I'd Like to Thank My Father for Teaching Me to Use A Screwdriver

When I left work last night, the view of campus looked like this:

Magical, huh? It sure was gorgeous, but it was also very, very wet. It was so warm that when you stepped in it, it melted under your feet. Good thing I shoveled the sidewalks, because last night the temperature dropped almost 40 degrees and all that slush turned into ice. My walk to the office this morning almost killed me (okay, I exaggerate -- it almost dropped me on my tush) at least four times from the hazardously icy sidewalks. On the upside, though, there was this:

Since the semester is now officially over, the office is, how shall I say this, extremely slow. At least one person came in yesterday, and I did get a few calls. However, today: zilch. Good thing I Had A Plan.

This is what my office looked like my first day of work back in August.

This is what my office looked like at noon after I spent the morning rearranging it.

Okay, it wasn't that big of a rearrangement, mostly I just switched the orientation of my desk. You can't see it in either of the above photos, but my office houses the office's library on a couple of bookshelves just out of the picture on the left. That means people are popping in and out of my office looking for things. In the previous orientation, that meant getting out of or back into my desk space was really annoying if people were perusing our collection, and since people do that pretty often, the situation was less than desirable. So with all the lovely time I have on my hands while the semester is out, I hatched A Plan to fix that.

I have to say, I'm pretty darn proud of myself. That desk is huge and while it's not massively heavy, it is unwieldy. The two parts are actually screwed together, a fact I found out after clearing it off and trying to move it. Unscrewing it was easy, and once the two parts were separated it was pretty easy to get them moved to where I wanted them. The hard part was getting them screwed back together. You have to hold the smaller piece in place to make everything line up correctly, and obviously I can't hold it in place and screw it together at the same time. (Believe me, I did try. I tried to hold it up with my legs and  screw it in (with my hands, obviously), but it was a no go.) No one else was in the office, and I couldn't just go pop into the Controller's office across the hall and ask some startled accountant if they'd like to come hold my desk in place while I screw it together.

The solution I came up with is, I think, certifiably genius. Or at least worthy of being dubbed "MacGyvered".

Yup. That's a camera tripod. Genius, right? Sometimes I just really love myself.

Well, that did the trick, and I had the two pieces back together. Then I spent about a half-hour wrangling the appalling tangle of cords sprouting out of the back of my computer into a manageable tangle...

...and put everything back together. I have to say, I'm pretty impressed with myself for getting it all right on the first try. I didn't even have to hunt for the reason why my second monitor wasn't working or (fake) swear at my printer for doing wonky things. Nope, it all turned back on perfectly.

Here's the view from the back corner of my office, looking out the door into the hallway leading to the rest of the office. You can see the bookshelves I mentioned above behind the lamp. And that's a picture of one of the bridges over the Han River in Seoul on my computer desktop.

All in all, it was a pretty good day. I feel accomplished.

September Recap

Green Day released a song when I was in high school called "Wake Me Up When September Ends". Now, I've never wanted to sleep through September; it's one of my favorite months, and not just because I was born in it (though that does make it pretty awesome). But it does feel rather like I have slept through it, just because it's zoomed by. A lot has happened this month, actually -- I moved, I got my first grown-up job paycheck, my mom came to visit, I had a birthday, I got a second job, there was a temple open house and dedication, my best friend left on a mission, I made new friends, and I made old friends better friends. Oh, and I ripped my favorite pair of jeans. You know, got to make sure I get in all that really important information. So, since much of that I neglected to blog about, here's a short recap of September.

1 September: I moved out of my friend Jordanne's house, where I'd been living all summer with her and her family while I figured out what I was going to do with myself. I also got my very first grown-up job paycheck from IELI (albeit only a half of one, since I only worked half of August).

2 September: The high councilman over stake emergency preparedness asked me to accept a calling as the stake emergency preparedness committee co-chair.

3 September: I finally got all my boxes and the furniture in my new room unpacked and organized. And it was my first official paid holiday, too (yay for Labor Day!).

5 September: My mom flew into Utah and stopped by to see me for about three minutes on her way up to Bear Lake with her sisters and cousins for a reunion. She also dropped off a memory foam topper for my bed, which has radically altered my life for the better.

7 September: I left work early for the first time to go to Shannon's (my best friend's little sister) own endowment session. Afterwards, I met up with a friend to explore the Gallery Walk downtown, and we hung out at Coldstone afterwards, eating ice cream and listening to the screaming in the stadium during the Utah State vs. University of Utah game. (It was loud screaming, people. We could hear it a mile+ away. For the record, Utah State won. Go Aggies!)

10 September: My mom back from her reunion, she picked me, my brother, and my cousin up to drive over to Brigham City (about a half-hour away) for the Brigham City temple open house. We meet up with some of my dad's sisters and their kids (and one husband) to tour the temple before it's dedicated. It was absolutely gorgeous! My favorite part, though, was the ceilings in the sealing rooms. The picture below doesn't show it, but painted on the ceiling was a large circle of brilliant blue with flowering branches of peach blossoms. They were stunning.

Picture here from hjnews.com

After that, we drove to my aunt and uncle's house for a family dinner of delicious minestroni soup and fresh french bread (with donuts for dessert!). My uncle asked if I'd like to drive his manual 1963 Jeep, which in his words has "no power-anything" (no power steering, no power brakes, etc). I drove down to the river bottom and up and down a veeeery steep hill. That was a blast, even if my 15-year-old cousin drove on the way home. I only thought we were going to die about three times, so she did pretty well, I'd say. Riding standing up in the back was definitely a fun time.

11 September: I went to work, then went over to my grandma's house to spend time with her and my mom. We stopped by my friend Jordanne's house to say goodbye to her; she left for the Provo MTC and eventually a mission in Chile the next day.

12 September: I met up with a friend for Aggie Ice Cream after work to officially kick off my birthday celebration. Nothing in the world is as delicious as Aggie Blue Mint.

13 September: Happy 26th birthday to me! I woke up super early (630!) for some reason, but lay in bed until about 830 when my mom came over to make me a birthday breakfast of French breakfast muffins and orange juice. (Well, she bought the orange juice.) After that we spent a few hours shopping, and we made sure to stop by the Distribution Center so I could purchase my parents a present with my very first paycheck (a Korean tradition). She dropped me off at work, where this was waiting for me on my desk:

My boss had stopped by to pick up a brownie for me, and our director found a tea light, lit it, and sung happy birthday to me. The whole department signed a birthday card for me, too. My mom picked me up from work and took me over to my grandma's house were we made dinner and I put my candles on my brownies (I don't like cake so I have brownies instead). Most of my family that lives in the area stopped by for some birthday brownies and ice cream and some catching up. 26 candles makes for a lot of light!

14 September: I met with a couple looking for someone to watch their 8-week-old baby girl in the mornings. Since my office job is only 1-5, I was looking for a better way to spend my mornings than sleeping late. The couple seemed nice and I adored their baby girl at first glance, so I was hoping to get the job. After meeting with them, I met my mom and grandma at the temple and went to lunch downtown at Great Harvest, where we had fantastic sandwiches and a delicious cinnamon roll for dessert. We ate outside, and the weather was gorgeous!

That evening, I went for Korean food with a friend and saw The Amazing Spider-Man for the second time (the first time I went to go see it on the Fourth of July with my little brother). It was just as good the second time around.

15 September: I worked in the temple cafeteria for the lunch shift and had a great time with the two other girls who also volunteered. I also had my first emergency preparedness committee meeting, to prepare for the stake training meeting the next day.

18 September: I got a call from the couple I interviewed with the last Friday, and they offered me the job! I'm so excited to start in October. I think I'm really going to enjoy it, and I'll finally be working full-time, albeit at two different jobs.

21 September: The week was pretty slow and not very eventful. I met up with a friend for dinner and to explore our local (tiny) zoo. That's where I discovered this little gem I blogged about before. It was also the last day of summer, since the autumnal equinox was the next day.

23 September: Regular church was cancelled in order for us to be able to attend one of the dedicatory sessions of the Brigham City temple, which was broadcast to all the meetinghouses in the area. It was a special event, especially hearing President Boyd K. Packer talk about growing up in Brigham City and his memories of the city and how the temple came to be built.

26 September: I get a text from my mom in the afternoon that my little brother (the one who lives and goes to school here in the very same town that I live in) was being admitted to the hospital. They didn't know what it was yet, but it didn't seem too serious. That evening, I went to help my dad's mom put up some decorations for fall. While stepping off the top of a step ladder, I managed to rip my favorite pair of jeans. ~sad face~ But my grandma and I still had a good time, and the decorations look pretty good, if I do say so myself.

27 September: I went to visit the little brother in the hospital, and it appeared that he was anything but wasting away in sad loneliness, since he had an almost constant stream of vistors. We had a nice chat, and then I met up with a friend for gelata at Zeppe's (only the yummiest place ever).

28 September: Our director at work took the office staff (me and our secretary/adviser) out to lunch at a local (and delicious) Italian restaurant. After work, me and some girlfriends drove down to SLC to wander around the new City Creek Mall, have dinner at The Cheesecake Factory (so. much. food), and spend the night at the Marriott downtown. It was a fun getaway, and our stay was free, thanks to my friend's aunt's Marriott reward points.

The view from our room on the very top floor of the Marriott in downtown SLC

My ginormous dessert, the delicious warm apple crisp. It was good cold the next day, too.

29 September: And now to today! Whew! My girlfriends and I slept in, laid around chatting about life until checkout time, ate brunch at Denny's, and drove home. This evening was the General Relief Society Meeting, the very first one with Sister Burton (my mission president's wife) as General Relief Society president. She gave a great talk! I was only sad that I wasn't able to go with my friends to the meeting in the Conference Center in SLC. Sometimes not having a car is very inconvenient.

And there you go. Not exactly a short recap of my September, but hopefully it wasn't boring.

First Day of Work

This is my new office. I suppose that's a bit of a misnomer, since it implies that there's an "old" office, when in fact this is the first office I've ever had. A bit of a thrill went through me when I reported for work this afternoon at one PM and heard, "You have your own office over here." I almost feel like a real grown-up!

To back track just a bit -- Obviously, the kick in the pants I got last week, combined with my computer biting the proverbial dust, did the trick. A good friend told me about this position, but I was initially reluctant to apply because it's not full-time, but half-time instead. I was wanting a full-time position for several reasons, but one of the most pressing was my upcoming 26th birthday (a month from today! crazy!). Turning 26 means I can no longer be on my parents' insurance, and gaps in insurance coverage can cause problems down the line. But when you're starving, metaphorically speaking, you can't afford to quibble with the available food not being 100% organic health food -- you've got to take what you can get. Plus, I knew they would seriously consider me because of my background and experience, and I wasn't getting a lot of consideration (*cough*or any *cough*) the other places I was applying. So I applied, and I interviewed last Thursday, and just a few hours after my interview they called me up and offered me the job and told me to come in Monday.

Here's the skinny on my current place of employment. I work for the Intensive English Language Institute at USU. The name is pretty self-explanatory -- it's a place where people come to learn English. Intensively. It serves mostly international students, but there are a few students who are US residents, mostly immigrants and refugees. My job is to do the "grunt work": filing, answering email inquiries, spending time on the telephone with insurance companies trying to straighten things out for students, copying, compiling orientation packets, scheduling catering for some events, etc. I work half-time, so basically I show up after lunch and close up the office at 5pm. Sadly, I only get three days off for Christmas (which I admit I'm a little puzzled about, since there are no students around).

Since there is currently a workshop going on that is being run by our faculty, I haven't really met anyone besides the IELI adviser, the IELI director, and one or two faculty. Oh, and the IT guys who came to help me get my computer set up. The only real work-y thing I did today was answer a phone while everyone else was out. I'm not yet in the system and I'm still fairly clueless about everything, so I spent the day reading the orientation packet and figuring how to get my (Windows 7 - ugh!) computer to let me type in Korean. I'm excited for the semester to start and for the students to get here, because I love students. And because presumably I'll know a little more about what's going on and be more comfortable in the office and know more people. I'm really excited about this job, even if I am doing "grunt work", because I feel so passionately about IELI's mission to help international students learn English and have a wonderful experience at USU and in America. I'm also hoping to be able to keep working my old job at the high school, since it's only in the morning and this job is only in the afternoon. That way I'd be working 35 hours a week, almost full time, which would keep me busy and stop me from sleeping too late in the mornings. We'll have to see how that works out, though.

"Blessed are they who humble themselves without being compelled to be humble"*

*Alma 32:16

Today I had one of those "compelled to be humble" moments. It was painful. And rather uncomfortable, too. And I feel monumentally stupid.

The thing about "compelled to be humble" moments is that you are usually fully aware of what it is you need to be humble about -- you're just not being humble about it. Such it was with my moment today. There was nothing new about the smackdown I got, nothing in it I hadn't told myself over and over again...except this time someone else was saying it. It's funny how hearing it all coming out of someone else's mouth has a way of making it all just that much more painful. And embarrassing. ~sigh~

The other thing about being compelled to be humble, besides it being decidedly less comfortable than humbling yourself, is that it's much harder to ignore the magnitude of what you need to be humble about than if you just give yourself a little lecture and then fix it. It also has a way of ruthlessly illustrating just how stupid you've been and how inane your excuses sound when you say them out loud.

The upshot of my being compelled to be humble is this: I'm going to stop wallowing in self-pity (because as much as I try to deny it, that's what it is), stop expecting things to magically go the way I want them to, stop turning my nose up at jobs that aren't quite (or at all, ~sigh~) what I want, and give myself a schedule each day. I'm going to only set goals that require my agency to achieve them -- things like "I will submit 20 applications this week" instead of "I will have a full-time, benefitted position by the end of August". And I'm going to get off my bum and get active instead of moping around and eating a lot of ice cream and cookies.

Here's hoping. ~crosses fingers~

The Blues

"The Blues" by Switchfoot

I have a talent for wallowing in self-pity. I'm not totally sure if this little character quirk is a factory default, or if it's one of the bugs I've acquired sometime in the last quarter-century of life. In any case, it's mine to deal with now, and I've noticed I'm all too prone to it. Mopiness is something of an automatic reaction to difficulties in my life. It's as if, when the little avatar in your Nintendo game runs into a brick wall, it sits down and pouts rather than backing up and trying to find a way over, around, under, or through it.

At various times in my life I've handled it better than others. I usually do best when I have a clear goal in mind--a reason to scale that brick wall, if you will. But all too often I find myself (metaphorically, of course) sitting at its base, depressed about how I can't get over it. This point in my life is the latter. For the first time in my life I find myself without a clear goal or milestone toward which to work. I'm out of high school (thank heavens), I moved out of the house, been on a mission, finally finished college--now what? Obviously, the two big choices are a career and marriage. I can't make the second happen all on my own (something about other people having agency or some such crazy notion), and I'm surprisingly unsure about the first.

"All Blues" by Miles Davis

After moving past the "I want to be a ballerina! An astronaut! Robin Hood! The President of the United States! A movie director!" stage, I finally settled on one day becoming a college professor. Thanks to my father's career, my family has always lived in a college town, and I love the atmosphere of education and learning that imbues them. My family went to museums and libraries the same way other kids went to sports games and amusement parks. (Literally. Never once did my family go to an amusement park; I remember we went to a water park once, though, when I was five or so. But we went to plenty of museums and galleries and art fairs and libraries.) I'm confident I still want to live in such an environment, and perhaps one day it would be lovely to teach at a university, but I can't really see myself doing the five or six or eight more years of school necessary to get a degree and be qualified to teach. At least not right now. Plus, your chances of being hired fresh out of your Ph.D. program at the moment are dismal.

There are a few things I am confident about. First, I want to help people. Not necessarily large groups of people; I think I work best and feel most fulfilled when I work with people in small groups or one-on-one. I also would like to work with people who need opportunities, or opportunities to take advantage of opportunities. My experience in Korea and my studies have helped me see that I have the desire and perhaps the skills to work with immigrants and refugees, a group of people who definitely fall under the "people who need opportunities" heading. Second, I'm not too worried about making scads of money, which is lucky for me. I don't think working with immigrants and refugees will make you big bucks. What I really want out of a career is personal fulfillment. I've worked jobs just to make money, and almost always I was miserable. I don't need to be rich, I just need to eat, have a place to sleep, be able to do a few fun things, keep clothes on my back, and be able to pay off my student loans. Third, I'm pretty sure I want to somehow be able to use my Korean language skills and cultural experience at some point. I didn't spend all that time and shed all those tears learning Korean just to watch Korean dramas and rock out to Kpop. Lastly, I'd like to go into a field or at least develop skills that will allow me to eventually become a full-time mother, while also allowing me to still contribute and serve.

"Rhapsody in Blue" by George Gershwin

So you can see that my problem and my opportunity are exactly the same thing: a very broad idea of what I want to do with my life. It affords me an incredible amount of flexibility to pursue whatever might present itself, but at the same time it's so broad that trying to decide which direction to go feels rather like trying to drink out of a fire hydrant. There's lot of water to slake your thirst, sure, but it knocks you flat on your back in the process and not that much water ends up in your mouth, anyway. (Disclaimer: I have never actually attempted drinking from a fire hydrant, that's just what I imagine would happen if you did try.)

Back to the "wallowing in self-pity" thing. Being the Type A person that I am, I'm more prone to see my situation as a problem than as an opportunity. That part of me demands I find the "perfect" opportunity that will meet all my wants and needs and set me up for life. The realistic part of me rolls its eyes at the Type A part of me and sarcastically remarks that that's a load of bull and totally impossible in the bargain. That just makes the Type A part of me curl up in a metaphorical corner of my mind and start whimpering. This is about the time I start the "woe is me" song and dance. Then the self doubt part of me gets in on the party and starts a whole refrain about how I haven't really done anything and don't have a lot of experience and why would anyone want to hire me (etc, etc, ad infinitum)? By this time, just to get away from all the arguing and the massive pity party going on in my head, I've decided to give into another of my vices, procrastination, and deal with it "later" by going to watch a TV show or a kdrama. Thus dooming myself to a repeat performance sometime down the line, without ever solving anything.

"Blue" by Big Bang

I realize that some of you (if you've made it this far) are asking yourselves, "What is this woman's problem? Stop whining and just do something already!" Trust me, you're not thinking anything I haven't already thought myself, many times over. But just like you don't understand why I don't just "do something", I don't understand why some people can never remember when to use fewer instead of less. My point is, we all have our own struggles. I'm not debating that I should get out and do something--I'm really working on it. I'm working on not wallowing in self pity. I'm working on seeing things in a positive light and taking steps to do something. What I'm saying is overcoming this part of me is a real challenge in my life, just like trying to control your chocolate cravings or your swearing habit is a challenge in yours. It's not going to change overnight. Maybe not even in a few years. Maybe it'll take my whole lifetime, and I'll still struggle with it when I'm eighty. (I really, really hope not.) But I'm resolving to do better, from this point on.

Being Employed Is Fun to Do, Or How I Got the Job

Perhaps you've heard the news? That's right - I'm employed!

Let me tell you, it is such a nice feeling. Being employed has far more perks than simply getting a paycheck. Being employed means my parents, my grandmas, and everyone else will stop asking me how the job search is going. It means that every day I have to be up and ready to be out the door by 715. It means that every day I get to help people and do something I'm passionate about. It means that every day I get to wake up with a sense of purpose and the knowledge that I'm going to accomplish something with my time. It means I wake up every day and dress like an adult instead of a college freshman. It also means I need to buy some new powder, new make-up remover, a new pair of slacks, and a pair of brown dress flats.

To be honest, I've been quite lazy about finding a job this last year (shocker, I know). When I first moved here last January, everything in my life had shifted around and turned upside down and the emotional stress of adjusting made me want to just hide in my room and watch dramas. It seemed like every time I got my act together enough to start looking for a job (which wasn't often), something big happened: my grandpa died, finals, I had to take my grandma to the emergency room and she was in the hospital for a week, my family came to visit, my other grandpa died, the new semester started, my grandma had a stroke and was in the hospital for a few days, I went home for Christmas break. And in between those big things there were papers and projects and homework and I was always "too busy". I was living a pretty easy life, or at least one I didn't have to pay a lot for, at my grandma's. And (it shames me to admit it) there was my refund check. Let's just sum all that up by saying I wasn't particularly motivated, though I felt guilty because I knew I should be.

Fast forward to last month. I'd moved out and was now paying rent and buying groceries, which obviously meant I was spending more money than I had been before. But I was still unemployed, and that was beginning to become a real problem. Fueled by panic, I started the job search in (semi-)ernest. I did some humbling and a lot of praying, accompanied by a spot of fasting. I checked the university's job boards every day. (The thing about college job boards is that they're usually looking for someone with specific skills or qualifications: web design, accounting, some kind of science, computer programming, a food handler's permit. I don't possess any of those skills of qualifications. In fact, there were no jobs for nice girls who write well, are willing to smile, and speak kdrama-enchanced Korean.) I know that networking is actually the most effective way to find a job, but networking scares the heebee jeebies out of me. And I wasn't really anxious to work at a call center or fast food joint. I wanted something that I could feel good about doing, something that would leave me with the knowledge that I'd improved someone's life. Fast food doesn't really do that for me.

One day about a week ago on the church's employment website, I ran across a listing for an ESL aide at one of the local high schools. I sent in an application, more to say I'd done something and not really expecting anything to come of it. Monday I was out in town running errands, then headed up to campus to visit the employment missionaries at the Institute. Somewhere in there I noticed that my phone had died, but didn't think much of it, because honestly, no one really ever calls me about anything important (not to say that your calls aren't important to me - they're just not usually very time-sensitive, is what I mean). When I got home and plugged in my phone, I discovered I'd gotten a call from the high school, asking if I could come in for a job interview the next day. It figures. The one time there's a truly important call, my phone dies. It's Murphy's Law.

Well, to make a longer story slightly shorter, after a night of less-than-swell sleep, I got up, got dressed up in my biggest big-girl clothes, did my make up, and waited on tenterhooks until my appointed interview time. I sent up several silent pleas to Heavenly Father than I would do my best in the interview, since I tend to get very nervous when meeting new people and when I get nervous I also get very literal and say silly things. But the interview seemed to go well - I met with the assistant principal and the two ESL teachers, and they were friendly and interested. I left with a feeling of having done my best, even if I didn't end up getting the job. I got home, changed my pants, and was about ready to head up to campus for class when I got a phone call from the assistant principal. I was the second-to-last person they interviewed, and even with my schedule restrictions, it was clear from the interview, he said, that they'd like to offer me the job.

And that's how yesterday, for the first time in almost seven years, I came to be at a high school early in the morning on a Friday.

There Are Worse Ways to Put Yourself Through College

...but my feet sure do hurt.

Yesterday marked my week anniversary of starting my new job at a shoe store in the mall. This is my first time working retail, and let me tell you, it is a different experience.

I was really lucky to get this job, seeing as how I have no experience in retail at all. I am even luckier because my manager is a really great guy who genuinely cares about what he's doing, loves his job, and is concerned about his employees. Plus he has really cute kids and his wife is adorable. They're from Thailand, actually, though he's Chinese and they've all been in the States for awhile now. I'm also lucky because I actually enjoy doing what I do -- helping people find shoes that fit their needs -- most of the time. It's just when I've been there for five hours, listening to the same CD of Brittany Spears, Shakira,*Nsync, and the Backstreet Boys (which is better than the alternatives, believe me) for the fifth time, standing up the whole time, and no one's come in the store in at least an hour that I start wishing I had a little more interesting job. Or when I hobble home on aching feet and finally collapse on my bed and wonder if $8.50/hour can possibly be worth it.

But, as I said, there are worse ways to put yourself through college. I try not to think about the job I had freshman year, before I left for the mission -- student circulation aide at the Naval Academy's library. It was easy, it was 15 hours a week, and it paid $3.50/hour more. Not to mention it was within walking distance and I didn't have to stress out over the unreliability of the public transportation. And I never had Brittany Spears stuck in my head.

Then again, maybe the Lord doesn't want me to take the easy road. I'm certainly learning things I wouldn't have learned at the library, and I can't help but think of Calvin's dad (in the comic strip Calvin & Hobbs) saying, a little superciliously, "It builds character." In this case I think it is. And who knows, maybe three years down the road I'll look back and see clearly that this was better for me and served some greater purpose in helping me develop into who I need to be.

But my feet really do hurt.

What great weather we've had lately

Mom and I finally figured out my financial aid situation, and frankly, it's not all that hot. Mom submitted all the paperwork that was required before I even came home, but it wasn't until about five months later -- in the middle of June -- that they calculated my award and sent it to me. I'm not sure why that is, but sadly, even though tuition and housing costs have risen and our family has more kids in college now (three! plus my dad's doing his doctorate), they gave me less aid than my original award my freshman year. That leaves me with about a $6000 gap between my aid and my expenses, and I have to find it before August. I might end up just having to take out a personal loan and start working two jobs to cover everything. If you could spare a couple of seconds to send up some prayers on my behalf, I would greatly appreciate it. 

This week marks the fifth week of work, with two more left in the summer program (it ends the last Friday in July). School doesn't start at SJC until the end of August, so I'm seriously thinking about going out to Annapolis a couple of weeks early, crashing on someone's couch, and spending that time hunting for a job -- or two. Mom and I haven't talked about it yet, really. For sure, though, I won't have a job here after the 24th. I can't believe how fast June went, and now July is speeding along, too! Speaking of July, this last weekend was the Fourth of July. As much as I love Korea and want to go back, it sure was nice to celebrate the Fourth in the good ol' US of A. :D Our family, at the invitation of (and with the generous support of) a couple in our ward, spent a wonderful three-day vacation at Reelfoot Lake, about 45 minutes from home. They went last year, too, but as I was in Korea, I didn't get to go. We went on a three-hour pontoon boat tour of the lake and got to see lots of herons, egrets, some turtles and ducks and even a copperhead! Some of the braver among us (not me, in other words) had froglegs for breakfast one morning. Surprisingly, they're really huge! I thought they'd be little and spindly, but these frogs much be the size of small chickens -- either that, or they did a lot of leg presses prior to being cut off and fried. We went swimming in the lake, went fishing, and watched part of a History Channel documentary on the Revolutionary War, and Friday night we had an awesome time shooting off lots and lots of fireworks. Growing up in Utah, you associate fireworks that explode in the sky with stadiums and big crowds, and only get to shoot the ground-bound ones off with your family or neighborhood. But when you live in a state that is 3/4 water, they let you shoot off all kinds of fireworks! And of course, I got completely devoured by mosquitos despite liberally applied amounts of bug repellant. (I think at last count I was over 30.) Thankfully, I've avoided sunburn for the last couple weeks, so at least I didn't have to suffer that.

Last night we had the missionaries and my boss over for dinner. It was a really great time. I'd been warning Mr. Robert about the craziness of dinner at our house...only to bring him home to perfectly behaved children. I swear, it's a first for our entire existence, and I know they did it out of spite. My mom made a great meal, and the elders shared a message that really seemed to touch Mr. Robert. He even chimed in after Elder Teuscher (that's too-shur) had finished presenting his message about serving Christ as we serve others (Mosiah 2:17) with a great insight of his own, and we had a lovely discussion about changing our attitudes towards the efforts we make for other people. My dad even sang part of "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" a cappella. I'm grateful for the member missionary opportunities this job has given me. My testimony of the importance of member missionary work is growing every day -- and now that the mission president has whitewashed the ward next to us and put in sisters, maybe I'll even get to go on exchanges with them! It's only an hour drive, after all. :)

That's about all there is of interest, really. Rick came home at the last transfer, so we FINALLY, after almost two years, get to talk on the phone to each other without obtaining permission from President. It's been fun to hear the latest news from the mission and hear about his experiences with some of the people I got to serve with as well. Interestingly enough, I'm having just as hard a time transitioning back into calling him "Rick" again as I did trying to remember to call him "Elder Murphy" when we first went to the MTC. I am sad to admit, though, that he knows more Korean vocab than I do -- probably due to four transfers with a native companion instead of my one and only. I spell better, though, so it's not a complete loss. :)

Of Bug Bites and Boys

It's been a little bit of time since I updated, so I thought I'd take a second to do that tonight. These last few weeks at work have been hectic -- hectic the way only 40-odd kids can be. I love my job, but there's no denying that it takes a lot of patience and engery. Good mom training.

In the last two weeks, I've been sunburned three times, twice pretty badly; gone swimming three times (which is three times more than I have in the last two years); broken a pair of sunglasses without touching them or otherwise coming into contact with them in any way (still trying to figure that one out); been so sore that I couldn't get up off the floor; gone two days and 100 miles without showering and air conditioning; and received 30+ mosquito bites. Those last two were accomplished this last weekend, when my sister and I went on a little camping trip with some of the LDS singles in our region.

We left for Land Between the Lakes Friday after work, having thrown together an overnight back at the last minute and slinging a tent and some sleeping bags into the back of our (air conditioning-less) car. We drove up there, windows down, feet on the dash (mine, not Heidi's, since she was driving) and arms hanging out the windows, belting out the songs on the radio. It was a lot of fun, and after stopping for directions only once and consulting the map while sitting in the middle of the road only twice, managed to arrive and set up camp. Unfortunately for us, as we later figured out, we selected a less-than-stellarly-brilliant camping spot. One, it was right in the middle of a high-traffic area; two, it was right under a street light (no idea why that was there); three, not only was the light emitting light and thereby making it light, it was attracting lots of noisy, annoying bugs; four, there was no breeze whatsoever. I slept horribly, when I slept at all.

The next morning, we didn't get to sleep in and were awoken by the sounds of breakfast being made (I forgot to mention, we also cleverly placed ourselves near the main campfire and the center of all-hours socialization), gave it up as a bad job, and just got up. We ate, changed into our swimsuits, broke camp, and headed down to the lake.

...To be continued later, I just found out that my sister got locked in a bathroom at work for five hours...

Three Days Out

*AnnMarie collapses onto the floor in a heap* Today was my third day at my new job, and let me tell you, it's wearing me out! You'd think that with all of us helping out it wouldn't be that bad, but despite having six 20-somethings on staff, as well as three older adults, those forty kids run us ragged every day. We only have them for four hours (10:30 to 2:30)...but they are four very long hours indeed.

Despite being exhausted, I do love my job. They're really great kids who have less-than-ideal situations, and despite a certain amount of attitude and lip, they're very loving and eager to do well for us. We spend our days doing various planned activities, like martial arts with a local instructor, visits to the library, and swimming at the pool. We play outside on the playground, eat lunch, and play board games and color. Today, we had a visit from a dentist, and tomorrow the First Baptist Church will take some of our kids fishing. It's a great job, and I'm really lucky to have it. I very much dislike working at jobs where I don't feel I'm making a difference, and working with these kids I can feel that I am. Plus, I love working with the other staff members, especially Mr. Robert. He's the director of the program, and in actuality, he could be doing five hundred other, more "profitable" things as a career. But he loves these kids so much, and it shines through everything he does, and it's reflected in every child's eyes. The kids can't get enough of Mr. Robert; they always want to be around him, and they're constantly hugging him and tugging on his hands. It's the most adorable sight. :)

This experience is helping me in ways I'm beginning to see even now. Despite my (quite vast) experience with kids (for my age, at least), I've never interacted with kids quite like these. A lot of these kids have authority problems, along with all the other problems you'd expect kids growing up in the projects to have. As a result, we spend a lot of time calling kids out for their attitudes and reactions toward our authority. You'd expect that, but I was surprised and mildly upset by how severe and angry our reactions to their reactions were. I'm not saying I'm perfect by any measure, but unless I was very upset and at the end of my chain, I wouldn't react that way to a similar outburst by one of my siblings or a child I babysat. As I thought about that in the shower this morning, I decided that I wasn't going to let myself be molded to the situation; rather, I would try to mold the situation to be more Christlike. I don't want you to think that the other staff members are being unusually mean or rough, but I didn't think that Christ would necessarily approach the situation in that manner. So I gave it a try today. I failed quite a lot, but I do think I succeeded as well. As I keep working at it, I hope it will help me practice patience when my temper is short, as well as helping me to work on my communication skills and other skills that will be of value when I ultimately become a mother to my own children. All in all, I'm very grateful to my Heavenly Father for giving me this opportunity to both help these great kids and learn about myself.

First Day on the Job

I wish I had a picture I could post along with this entry, but alas, there is none. I shall have to try to paint you a picture in words instead, and hope that suffices.

Today was my first day of work at the summer youth program the housing authority does for the kids who live in the projects. I wasn't sure what to expect, since we're actually hired through a government grant and not through the housing authority and they didn't really know any details, but I showed up at their main office this morning bright and early at eight a.m. like I was told. It turns out that the programs doesn't even begin until ten-thirty, so we sat around for awhile waiting for all of the staff to get there, then filled out paperwork for a bit, and then finally headed over to the building that houses the program.

The director of the program (and all youth activities) is a Mr. Robert Nunley, a dignified older black gentleman who nonetheless still wears khaki shorts and tennis shoes and acts as the umpire for the kids' baseball games. As I said, he is older, but hasn't any hint of the middle-age spread that seems to accompany advancing years. The liberal patches of white in his close-cropped beard give away his age, however; it doesn't tarnish his image one bit, though. Rather, it enhances it. He has a no-nonsense attitude that goes along with is appearance, but there's a hint of a sparkle in his eyes that denote a well-developed sense of humor and fun. The latter is completely necessary when working successfully with children.

The kids themselves come in all kinds of shapes and sizes: big and round, little and thin, thin and tall; little and round, white, black, Hispanic. Some have accents so thick it's hard to understand them. Some have cornrows, and some little girls have braids that stick out all over their heads, with groups of beads swinging at the ends. Some don't have any hair at all. All are anxious to show you their drawing or the trick they can do on the trapeze bars, and will tug on your clothes or hands or whatever else is convenient to them until they have your attention and can display said drawing or amazing feat.

The morning was spent out on the playground playing on the jungle gym or at four square (a very popular, and from the comments, very controversial sport with the kids) until the rain drove us inside to do introductions and an impromptu spelling bee. (The last little kid -- a tiny, adorable little black boy with a high, piping voice and the cutest little face ever -- got out with the word "water;" pretty good, considering he's just finished kindergarten.) After lunch (spaghetti, cheese toast, corn, and a lettuce salad), we played on the playground some more until it was time to load up in the vans and head downtown for some martial arts. That was most entertaining to watch...until we got conscripted to be the punching bags for the kids to practice their jabs, crosses, left hooks, and uppercuts. Even that was alright until we had to stand in front of all the kids and do it with them; keep in mind, none of the three of us have ever done anything of that sort before. But we survived, and it was fun. I just need to make a note to myself not to wear jeans again on Mondays. Mondays are martial arts day.