Monday, September 26, 2011
Scanner = FABULOUS
I got some more art posted on my deviantart account! So happy my roommate has a scanner! I like having an outlet for my art other than people asking "hey, can I see your sketchbook?". When I try to explain to people the story or idea behind my artwork, it's awkward for me, and I feel like they just think I'm a weridie or something. On dA I just write down a description and people get it or they don't. Not that a whole bunch of people even look, but still.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Rainy Days in Idaho
So the VP of BYU-Idaho mentioned the "deceptively nice weather" when school first started. And now I know what he means. Woke up this morning to rain, and my first thought was "Oh no! I didn't put the poncho on the bike!" So that was soaked, but I just put a shopping bag on the seat and rode slower than usual, because I didn't want to get mud splatters up my back.
Is it just me, or is everyone sorta dumber when it rains? I was biking up to campus (like I do) and people just kept being in my way. And some of them have head phones, so I can't say "excuse me" and get by. I have to arrange a whole tactical insertion. Ridiculous.
Spent a long while in the bookstore, because I didn't want to go home and lose my "I'm at school" vibe that gets me through the school day. But now the weather is starting to clear up, and I wanted to go enjoy rooibos while it was still rainy. Oh well, I'm sure there will be other rainy days.
I don't know that my anxiety has gone away, but the peppermint helps keep the stomach pain away, and it sorta came back yesterday, I think because I hadn't had any for a while. That stuff has been saving my sanity, for sure.
So I broke down and got something frivolous. Well, two things, but they weren't expensive at all.
I didn't even know they made these, but at home, every time I get chocolate I always give it to Tyler. So this one is all mine.
These feel like they're bigger than the ones in the boxes at the store. Either way, I'm excited for chocolate!
Is it just me, or is everyone sorta dumber when it rains? I was biking up to campus (like I do) and people just kept being in my way. And some of them have head phones, so I can't say "excuse me" and get by. I have to arrange a whole tactical insertion. Ridiculous.
Spent a long while in the bookstore, because I didn't want to go home and lose my "I'm at school" vibe that gets me through the school day. But now the weather is starting to clear up, and I wanted to go enjoy rooibos while it was still rainy. Oh well, I'm sure there will be other rainy days.
I don't know that my anxiety has gone away, but the peppermint helps keep the stomach pain away, and it sorta came back yesterday, I think because I hadn't had any for a while. That stuff has been saving my sanity, for sure.
So I broke down and got something frivolous. Well, two things, but they weren't expensive at all.
I didn't even know they made these, but at home, every time I get chocolate I always give it to Tyler. So this one is all mine.
These feel like they're bigger than the ones in the boxes at the store. Either way, I'm excited for chocolate!
Monday, September 12, 2011
Liverpool, 1944
At the request of the First Presidency, I had gone to England as coordinator for the LDS servicemen. One Saturday afternoon in 1944, I sent a telegram from London to the base chaplain near Liverpool letting him know that I would be in camp the next morning to conduct Mormon church services at 10:00 a.m.
When I arrived at the camp, there were 75 Mormon boys, all in uniform and quite a number in battle dress. The chaplain to whom I had sent the wire proved to be a Baptist minister from the southern U. S. He, too, was waiting for my arrival. As these young men ran out to greet me not because it was I, but because of what I represented, and as they literally threw their arms around me, knowing I was representing their parents as well as the Church, the minister said, “Please tell me how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Why,” he said, “I did not get your wire until late this morning. I made a hurried search. I found there were 76 Mormon boys in this camp. I got word to them. 75 of them are here. The other is in the hospital. I have more than 600 Baptist in this camp, and if I gave them 6 months notice, I could not get a response like that.”
And then he repeated, “How do you do it?”
I said, “Sir, if you will come inside, perhaps you will see.”
We went in to the little chapel. The boys sat down. I asked, “How many here have been on missions?” I think a full 50% raised their hands.
I said, “Will you and you and you” and I pointed to six of them “please come and administer the sacrament? And will you and you and you” and I pointed to six others “please come and sit here and be prepared to speak.”
Then I said, “who can lead the music?” A number of hands were raised. “Will you come and lead the music? And who can play this portable organ?” There were several more hands, and one was selected. Then I said, “What would you like to sing, fellows?” With one voice they replied, “Come, Come Ye Saints!”
We had no hymnbook. The boy sounded the chord: they all arose. I have heard “Come, Come Ye Saints” sung in many lands and by many choirs and congregations. Without reflecting adversely on what we usually hear I think I have only heard “Come, Come Ye Saints” sung that once when every heart seemed to be bursting. They sounded every verse without books.
When they came to the last verse, they didn’t mute it; they didn’t sing it like a dirge but throwing back their shoulders, they sang out until I was fearful the walls would burst. “And should we die before our journey’s through, happy day, all is well”; I looked at my minister friend and found him weeping.
Then one of the boys who had been asked to administer the sacrament knelt at the table, bowed his head, and said, “Oh, God, the Eternal Father.” He paused for what seemed to be a full minute, and then he proceeded with the rest of the blessing on the bread. At the close of that meeting, I sought that boy out. I put my arm around his shoulders, and said, “Son, what’s the matter? Why was it so difficult for you to ask the blessing on the bread?”
He paused for a minute and said, rather apologetically, “Well, Brother Brown, it hasn’t been two hours since I was over the continent on a bombing mission. As we started to return, I discovered that my tail assembly was partly shot away, that one of my engines was out, that three of my crew were wounded, and that it appeared absolutely impossible that we could reach the shore of England.
Brother Brown, up there I remembered Primary and Sunday School and MIA, and home and church, and up there when it seemed all hope was lost, I said, ‘Oh, God the eternal Father, please support this plane until we reach a landing field.’ He did just that, and when we landed, I learned of this meeting and I had to run all the way to get here. I didn’t have time to change my battle dress, and when I knelt there and again addressed the Lord, I was reminded that I hadn’t stopped to say thanks.
Brother Brown, I had to pause a little while to tell God how grateful I was.”
Well, we went on with the meeting. We sang. Prayers were offered, and these young men, with only a moment’s notice, each stood and spoke, preached the gospel of Jesus Christ to their comrades, bore their testimonies, and again I say with due respect—to the various ones with whom I have associated and labored—they were among the finest sermons I have ever heard.
Then the time was up and I said, “Fellow, it’s time for chow. We must dismiss now, or you will miss your dinner.” With almost one voice they cried, “We can eat grub any time. Let’s have a testimony meeting!”
So we stayed another hour and a half while every man bore witness to the truthfulness of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Each one in turn, and in his own way, said, “I know that God lives. I know that the gospel is restored. I know that Joseph was a prophet of God.” Again I looked at my friend, and he was weeping unashamedly.
At the close of that meeting, this minister said, “I have been a minister for more than 21 years, and this has been the greatest spiritual experience of my life.”
When I arrived at the camp, there were 75 Mormon boys, all in uniform and quite a number in battle dress. The chaplain to whom I had sent the wire proved to be a Baptist minister from the southern U. S. He, too, was waiting for my arrival. As these young men ran out to greet me not because it was I, but because of what I represented, and as they literally threw their arms around me, knowing I was representing their parents as well as the Church, the minister said, “Please tell me how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Why,” he said, “I did not get your wire until late this morning. I made a hurried search. I found there were 76 Mormon boys in this camp. I got word to them. 75 of them are here. The other is in the hospital. I have more than 600 Baptist in this camp, and if I gave them 6 months notice, I could not get a response like that.”
And then he repeated, “How do you do it?”
I said, “Sir, if you will come inside, perhaps you will see.”
We went in to the little chapel. The boys sat down. I asked, “How many here have been on missions?” I think a full 50% raised their hands.
I said, “Will you and you and you” and I pointed to six of them “please come and administer the sacrament? And will you and you and you” and I pointed to six others “please come and sit here and be prepared to speak.”
Then I said, “who can lead the music?” A number of hands were raised. “Will you come and lead the music? And who can play this portable organ?” There were several more hands, and one was selected. Then I said, “What would you like to sing, fellows?” With one voice they replied, “Come, Come Ye Saints!”
We had no hymnbook. The boy sounded the chord: they all arose. I have heard “Come, Come Ye Saints” sung in many lands and by many choirs and congregations. Without reflecting adversely on what we usually hear I think I have only heard “Come, Come Ye Saints” sung that once when every heart seemed to be bursting. They sounded every verse without books.
When they came to the last verse, they didn’t mute it; they didn’t sing it like a dirge but throwing back their shoulders, they sang out until I was fearful the walls would burst. “And should we die before our journey’s through, happy day, all is well”; I looked at my minister friend and found him weeping.
Then one of the boys who had been asked to administer the sacrament knelt at the table, bowed his head, and said, “Oh, God, the Eternal Father.” He paused for what seemed to be a full minute, and then he proceeded with the rest of the blessing on the bread. At the close of that meeting, I sought that boy out. I put my arm around his shoulders, and said, “Son, what’s the matter? Why was it so difficult for you to ask the blessing on the bread?”
He paused for a minute and said, rather apologetically, “Well, Brother Brown, it hasn’t been two hours since I was over the continent on a bombing mission. As we started to return, I discovered that my tail assembly was partly shot away, that one of my engines was out, that three of my crew were wounded, and that it appeared absolutely impossible that we could reach the shore of England.
Brother Brown, up there I remembered Primary and Sunday School and MIA, and home and church, and up there when it seemed all hope was lost, I said, ‘Oh, God the eternal Father, please support this plane until we reach a landing field.’ He did just that, and when we landed, I learned of this meeting and I had to run all the way to get here. I didn’t have time to change my battle dress, and when I knelt there and again addressed the Lord, I was reminded that I hadn’t stopped to say thanks.
Brother Brown, I had to pause a little while to tell God how grateful I was.”
Well, we went on with the meeting. We sang. Prayers were offered, and these young men, with only a moment’s notice, each stood and spoke, preached the gospel of Jesus Christ to their comrades, bore their testimonies, and again I say with due respect—to the various ones with whom I have associated and labored—they were among the finest sermons I have ever heard.
Then the time was up and I said, “Fellow, it’s time for chow. We must dismiss now, or you will miss your dinner.” With almost one voice they cried, “We can eat grub any time. Let’s have a testimony meeting!”
So we stayed another hour and a half while every man bore witness to the truthfulness of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. Each one in turn, and in his own way, said, “I know that God lives. I know that the gospel is restored. I know that Joseph was a prophet of God.” Again I looked at my friend, and he was weeping unashamedly.
At the close of that meeting, this minister said, “I have been a minister for more than 21 years, and this has been the greatest spiritual experience of my life.”
Stadium Singing
So every Sunday evening there's an event called stadium singing. Because I wasn't able to go to any official memorial for the tenth anniversary of the 9-11 attacks, I thought this would be the best way to show my remembrance and support of the lives lost and changed that day. I didn't know that it would be a spontaneous choir that one joined. I thought it was something to go listen to. So I was horribly unprepared because I didn't bring my hymnal to college with me, let alone along to the stadium. But I was able to do well enough, since most of the songs were patriotic.
It was beautiful, so many people joined together singing. I don't remember all the songs we sang, but I do remember singing "Onward Christian Soldiers", "God Be With You Till We Meet Again", "America The Beautiful" "My Country 'Tis of Thee", "Battle Hymn of the Republic" "Come, Come Ye Saints" and the "Star Spangled Banner".
I think I got them all. I loved hearing "Come Come Ye Saints" because of the WWII story I associate with it now. I'll post it in the next blog. "Battle Hymn of the Republic" is always a nice one to hear as well. It was such a lovely time. The only awkward spot was meeting up with a guy I met a few days ago, he kept looking at me while I was singing, which was awkward (1) because...well... why was he looking at me? We're all here to sing, either with friends or not, but we didn't even walk here together....(2) I didn't know all the words all the time and I felt like he was scrutinizing me.
Other than that, it was a beautiful experience, even if it did catch me off guard. And before singing "The Star Spangled Banner" as the last song, we had a moment of silence. It was nice. Especially because the conductor was my roommate and I (and my mom, just a little bit) got to give input for song and song order. Pretty cool!
It was beautiful, so many people joined together singing. I don't remember all the songs we sang, but I do remember singing "Onward Christian Soldiers", "God Be With You Till We Meet Again", "America The Beautiful" "My Country 'Tis of Thee", "Battle Hymn of the Republic" "Come, Come Ye Saints" and the "Star Spangled Banner".
I think I got them all. I loved hearing "Come Come Ye Saints" because of the WWII story I associate with it now. I'll post it in the next blog. "Battle Hymn of the Republic" is always a nice one to hear as well. It was such a lovely time. The only awkward spot was meeting up with a guy I met a few days ago, he kept looking at me while I was singing, which was awkward (1) because...well... why was he looking at me? We're all here to sing, either with friends or not, but we didn't even walk here together....(2) I didn't know all the words all the time and I felt like he was scrutinizing me.
Other than that, it was a beautiful experience, even if it did catch me off guard. And before singing "The Star Spangled Banner" as the last song, we had a moment of silence. It was nice. Especially because the conductor was my roommate and I (and my mom, just a little bit) got to give input for song and song order. Pretty cool!
Monday, September 5, 2011
Surprise Phone Call
So I get a call from an area code back home, and I pick it up, and I recognize the voice as he says hello, and introduces himself as John from Round Table Pizza. A little bit into his call (talking about some special thing they're doing this week for people on this phone list) I KNOW it's him, and he sounds so casual, I was wondering if maybe he knew who he was calling, so I asked if it was who I thought it was, and he stops, says yeah and asks who knows him on the other end of the line. I tell him it's me and he's all surprised, because he didn't think it was me (must not have my last name on the list) and he told me he was a little worried, maybe someone wasn't happy with him on my end of the line. So we talked for a little bit, about my school and housing, and his dissertation and then he let me go, since he had other numbers to call and I don't live in there anymore, so I can't use the special. It was a really nice surprise, talking to him. This guy is so cool, very intelligent and has a great wife and children.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
I love these videos so much I had to share.
Miss my sisters! This California Girl is lonely in Idaho
Rrrrosella the snail Tamer/trainer. Man, that was such a long night, I kept messing up. You actually hear me say lion tamer at the end. I lost my voice so bad the next day.
I miss working on Thursday Forum with the gang. I haven't done it in a year. I'm so sad......
I wanted to post the airsoft one, but I can't, because it's not my video. Lamesauce.
Friday, September 2, 2011
We interrupt your normal blog for a demonstration of the emergency frustration alert system
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That is all. Thank you.
That is all. Thank you.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
I wanna throw up
Is it possible to get sick with loneliness and anxiety? I think it might be. This grown up thing is hard.
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