This is Not a Normal Squirrel

Every Monday and Wednesday I always see our local squirrel. When I first started seeing squirrels in Idaho I was strangely excited. I guess it reminded me of home, even though at home I only tolerated the squirrels. I am no longer excited to see this particular squirrel. I am frightened.

This squirrel is not a normal squirrel. It is fat, and has no fear of humans. When ever I pass it, I get about a foot away from him, and then he leisurely moves around the tree. I'm sure he doesn't care if I come close to him or not. He has just decided to keep up the squirrel human pretence to keep us happy.

This squirrel is mean. He is really really mean. Once I saw a bird picking at something on the ground, and this squirrel came charging at the bird. He was ready to attack the bird for what I assume was a wrapper. After the bird flew off the squirrel started yelling at the bird. He stood on his two hind legs and screamed at the sky. I'm sure he was insulting the birds mother, and warning him never to come back to Kerr Hall again.

Ordinarily I would name an animal that is so distinct in character, but not this one. I'm afraid that if he doesn't like the name, he'll come in at night and kill me. I wouldn't put it passed him. He knows where I live.

Eat, Drink, and go Crazy

I love my new FHE brothers. They are so sweet and very funny. Our first Sunday here they came to our apartment and introduced themselves. They were even so kind as to do some manly chores, like taking bikes off of cars, and moving a heavy TV. About five minutes after they left, we had a knock on our front door. There were two brothers, "Ummm can we get something to eat."


Apparently these poor boys had no food in their house, and were hoping for handouts. I realized that night that Mormon girls with marriage on their minds love nothing more than displaying their domestic capabilities to a bunch of cute single guys. We fluttered around the kitchen as they watched in amazement. They said they just expected a peanut butter sandwich.


All of last week we gushed over the thought of our brothers. No we aren't in love with them, but we have assigned each guy out to a specific girl. It didn't take long for us to decide that we need to invite them over again, and with that thought in mind a lot of chicken was bought.


Last Sunday my roommates and I sat in Sacrament discussing the meal and at what time they should come. Mashed potatoes won out over rice, before the fireside instead of after, and fried chicken instead of... well we realized we didn't know any other way of making chicken. That's about the time we realized that the chicken was still in the freezer. Vicky ran home to defrost it, and since she didn't come back we assumed she started on the rest of the meal.


Our brothers seemed pretty excited to come for dinner, which made us excited to make it. So the rest of my roommates ran home the start on dinner. We only had an hour to prepare.


Once we just home, that's when the problems really started. The chicken was still very frozen. Time ticked by as we tried every trick we could think of to defrost chicken. 30 minutes till their arrival, panic started. I said, "We need a back up plan." We had some beef Vicky was planning on making, and so we started cooking that. "But wait some of the chicken is ready." So we started cooking that. It wasn't cooking fast enough, and plan C was a box of frozen corn dogs. "Do you need to defrost corn dogs?"


I even made a futile attempt to call and stall until after the fireside, but no luck. These popular boys had plans. Our brothers even came five minutes late, and we had nothing ready. I looked around and realized that three frantic girls in the kitchen was enough, and I left to be hostess. I wasn't easy trying to distract three hunger boys from a partially separated kitchen with crashing and thud sounds coming from it.


Really in the end it was Nelva's superhero poster that got their attention. Finally, ten minutes later we put food on the table. For dinner we had: lumpy mashed potatoes, wonderful salad, tiny chunks of beef, tortillas, and of course corn dogs.


When we finally sat down to eat, it was really great. The boys were so excited to have "real food," and we were so grateful to serve anything! During the first few bites I was terrified that something would taste awful, and in reality we could have done a lot better. Our brothers didn't seem to notice. I think it was because they're boys.

You do some strange things at college.

I was going through some pictures today and found some of my favorites. Last semester in my old apartment we had a christmas tree. We would occasionally move it adn change the decorations. THis is my favorite decoration.

It's our pan-tree!!

Blood Sweat and Tears

It's here... the end of the semester!! I only have eight more days of class, and half of my teachers are not requiring us to come the last day of school. I guess its their little gift to us.
Maybe its to make up for all of the end of semester work we have to do. I have a couple papers to write, two presentations to give, and I don't even know how many tests I have to take! Maybe I should figure that last part out.

But to cap off our finales to-do list we have Whiteglove. I just experienced my first whiteglove, and to be honest I don't know how I feel about it.

All of my roommates decided to procrastinate cleaning until last Friday night, the night before we got checked. I started around 5 pm. That was after I just got an A+ on a math so I was on a pretty big high. Then I saw my stove.

As a side note, our stove has been overworked this semester. We all like to cook to some degree, and I estimate that the stove/oven combo makes at least six meals on a very slow day. Interestingly enough known of us have ever taken the time to clean the stove.

I wasn't sure what the stoves true color was, but I took my steal wool in hand and began my intense scrubbing. I scrubbed and scrubbed, and when I had enough I started on the oven.

I found myself reverting back to my old cleaning tricks. When I was little and had a lot to clean I would pretend I was a maid in a haunted house, or an orphan forced to clean by the evil orphanage lady. I haven't done that in such a long time, but around 11pm I was imagining I was a fine lady who ran away from her evil husband and took a job as a scullery maid. I thought it was very Anne of Green Gables of me,but it got me through the floor, windows and the cabinets.

Kristie and I worked on the kitchen until 12:30, and then fell into bed. Then we got up early the next morning to finish the kitchen and work on our rooms.

My resident assistant said we pasted with flying colors. I'm sure glad we did, because as I looked my hands I saw the two small burns on my fingers, the several cuts I found randomly, and sand paper skin that has since been loaded with lotion.

I felt like all of the grim that I washed off the floor was clinging to me, its a gross feeling. But at the same time I am so proud of the kitchen. I look at it and see the new sparkle. It makes me feel so proud and so protective. When one of my roommates spilled her pot of noodles on my stove I almost cried. I had to remind myself that I should ask if my roommate was okay, instead of attending to the stove.

What can I say, I think I've bonded with my kitchen.

The Bishop Didn't Mention This.

This semester, I've been called to be FHE Mom. Basically all I have to do is plan the activity for FHE and I'm good for another week. Over all, I'd say it's a pretty easy calling.

(Some of my daughters and one son.)

On Saturday I had an experience that I did not expect. I was alone in my dorm, and had just settled down for a perfect Saturday night: a masterpiece movie, and big bowl of popcorn. Suddenly my daughters burst in.

"Mommy, we have a question for you." Said one of my daughters. She was practically rolling on the floor laughing.


"Umm... What do you need?"

"Can you tell Jessica what 'to cop-a feel' means?" and then she burst into another peal of laughter.


Jessica look innocently at me as I hemmed and hawed, and wished that her father was here. I explained, to the best of my knowledge, what it was 'to cope-a-feel.'

(More of my beautiful daughters)

I just kept thinking, "The Bishop did not mention this."

Where Is My Hair?

Devotional inspires many people, on many different topics. Three weeks ago, I was inspired about my hair.

I found that having split ends puts me in a bad mood. I just sit and look at my split ends in disgust. One week in devotional I was a particularly bad mood, and Suddenly I knew I had to cut my hair. But how should I cut it? Short very short. And for the rest of the devotional I sat imagining my beautiful new hair.

Last Saturday I went to the beauty College to cut my hair. It's dirt cheap, but one the other hand these people are learning to cut hair. I was nervous and that woman looked at my hair.

"You know, I think your hair is long enough to donate to Locks of Love. If you do that we give you a free hair cut."

I was sold. Even though I had to cut my hair an inch shorter then i planned.

So, this week I've spent time getting reacquainted with my hair. Suddenly I don't use as much shampoo, but a lot more bobby pins. I can't put my hair in a pony-tail without a fight, but i can wear pig-tails without looking like a county bumpkin. So all in all, I'm happy.

Oh, so this is what fun is.

This past Christmas, my family went to the Sappington's for dessert, and Rock Band. I was not to keen on playing Rock Band, but my siblings cajoled me into it. They explained to me that this was what fun was. I hadn't realized it until then.

Here at BYUI I have been learning a lot of things. Among the treasure trove of knowledge is my expanding view on the word fun. Honestly, I'm a homebody. I like to stay inside and read a book. Actually talking to people, while possible, is extremely exhausting. I walk away from social situation, with the sudden urge to apply some deodorant.

Today I would like to announce a break through. Yes, on Wednesday night I actually went out willingly and talked to people.

That night I had no homework, and found myself watching my roommate and her boyfriend make dinner, and hug each other. As exhilarating as this was, I decided I needed to go out, and before i knew it I was walking to the Kirkam into an improve workshop.

I planned to sit and watch, but immediately I was passed the imaginary ball and had to pass the ball while saying something related to ice cream. Before I knew it, I was a blind woman in Rapunzel, a squid playing the Dating Game, and a woman determined to have Lasagna for dinner. I know, utterly absurd, but lasagna was the only thing I could think of.

I was really proud of myself. Me. Tressa Allred actually went out and talked to people. Not only that, but I would make a joke, and people would laugh!! Then they would make a joke, and I would laugh. It was like I was in a conversation and I was enjoying myself.

This really big. Next week, I think I'll actually try to talk to people after the closing prayer. I'm going to really need deodorant for that one.

For your viewing pleasure... my roommates.

This is Tamara and Megan eating Megan's delicious greenbean casserole.

This is Kristie and her boyfriend Josh. Josh is pretty much a staple in our dorm.