The Rest of Boston

How can I even sum up the rest of Boston since I last posted? It was awesome enough that I didn't have time to post. I'll post pictures later. I have no power at the moment. I'll explain later.

Saturday, I went to the Fogg Museum at Harvard for free (before 12). This security guard kept following me around and telling me things I was doing wrong (I hadn't been given my photo pass even though I signed the waiver and I got too close to the paintings to take a picture). Then I went to Tiffany's dorms, where I met Mary, Tiffany's tall and beautiful friend who is best described as sincere. I was grateful to hear about her conversion this year. We ate at the cafeteria and put up bulletin boards for the incoming freshman. Then we went to the beach. (Tiffany, what is it called again? I never saw it written.) Mary went home for some RS lesson preparation; Tiffany and I went to her place and talked about all sorts of things. We both have remarked that it is strange to think we just met; we are definitely kindred spirits. Ryan picked us up to meet up with a lot of people later at someone's house. There were guitars constantly being played, popcorn to be eaten, and a lot of conversation. I talked to Jesse Swift (a guy who was at the beach and who does eye research in Boston), Kevin Knight (who just went on a nine-week trip through Europe and is getting his MBA at MIT), John (a guy I recognized from Utah), Rob, Michelle, Evie, Ryan, Darron, and Lucas. I got back to the YWCA at about 2.

Church the next morning: I saw Kevin and sat with him. A blinking light on the piano bugged both of us. We looked at it later and saw that it said, "Water" on it. Weird. Does anyone know what that means? I had to stand up and introduce myself after sacrament meeting. A few people spoke to me in German because of that. I met Tiffany and Mary's friend, Jonathan, who is indeed very nice, talented, and suave. I convinced Kevin, Darron, and Teppo (Kevin's roommate from Finland) to go to the Boston Public Garden. We had a three-hour conversation that was just wonderful. We got back to the church just in time for the YSA dinner, which is usually $3 (fight over that, people), but free for new people. However, I don't think I'll count it since I was busy talking to an old friend of mine (Kim Neff) who is on a mission in Boston and we missed the main dish. Jonathan said he wanted to hang out, but he never called Tiffany who was going to call me so I could call Jesse, Ryan, Kevin, and Teppo. Tiffany and I got together at Hope's house anyway. She gave me some spaghetti which was marvelous. I got back to the YWCA around 12.

Monday I enjoyed the Science Museum. I was there for several hours. During the Grand Canyon presentation in the omnitheater, I got a horrible headache and almost had to leave. I thought maybe it was just the show making me dizzy or something, but the headache waxed and waned the rest of the day. I almost fell asleep during the star show, but walking around was quite interesting. After that, I went to Cambridge to have dinner at Fire and Ice. There is only one meal there: you pick whatever you want and hand it to the cooks, who grill it and hand it back. It was wonderful. You don't have to pick out things you don't prefer. I was disappointed because I didn't have a student ID, so it was going to be $16. I was talking to the waitress about paying separately. After she left, I found out that Ryan had already paid for me. How nice! He drove me clear back to the Back Bay/South End on Saturday, and now this. Family Night involved making brownies and cards for the bishopric. Jonathan, Cody, Jesse, a kid whose name I forgot, Tiffany, Lucia, and I went to swim in Walden Pond, but we couldn't find a place to park. So we drove north to see Emerson's house, Louisa May Alcott's house, the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, the North Bridge. We ended up parking on the other side of Walden Pond and trying to hike through the dark woods (luckily the moon was almost full) to find it, but we just found the river. I got back to the YWCA around 1:30.

Tuesday, my last day in Boston! How tragic! I let my computer charge all night (yes the plug was outside the door) because I figured I'd get up early enough that no one would notice. I woke up at 5:50 so I could watch the sun rise from the top of the seven-floor building. It really was nice. I dragged my luggage to the Government Center and then to the eye research center where Jesse Swift was kind enough to let me see his office and store my luggage there. He even let me hold and look at stem cells from mice!












Teppo and I met up to go see the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, a mansion filled with art by a rich lady who declared in her will that nothing was to be changed. Then we went to the North End for some Italian Food. We thought we were hungry enough to get two plates of the lunch special, but I ate about how much was left on Teppo's plate when he was done. It definitely was good, and I couldn't leave without getting a cannolli (sp?) and some lemon gellatto. Mmmm. Teppo and I talked and talked the whole day; never was there a dull moment. He sounds British to me, that's what I would have guessed if he hadn't told me he was Finnish. He is so nice, he even went with me to the Galleria mall to find some shoes. He was impressed with my shopping method. The airport story next . . .

Theme Song

For those of you who didn't know already, this song by Augustana has been my theme song for the last few months (thanks to Amy for buying it for my iTunes):

"Boston"

In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun...
Oh dear you look so lost, eyes are red and tears are shed,
This world you must've crossed... you said...

You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah,
You said
You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains... oh yeah,

Essential yet appealed, carry all your thoughts across
An open field,
When flowers gaze at you... they're not the only ones who cry
When they see you
You said...

You don't know me, you don't even care, oh yeah,
You said
You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains... oh yeah,

She said I think I'll go to Boston...
I think I'll start a new life,
I think I'll start it over, where no one knows my name,
I'll get out of California, I'm tired of the weather,
I think I'll get a lover and fly em out to Spain...
I think I'll go to Boston,
I think that I'm just tired
I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind...
I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of the sunset,
I hear it's nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice... oh yeah,

Boston... where no one knows my name... yeah
Where no one knows my name...
Where no one knows my name...
Yeah Boston...
Where no one knows my name.

Chi-Town

Happy St. Patrick's Day! I celebrated by dyeing the Chicago River green! Yes, I'm wearing green in this picture, it's just hidden by my coat.














This is Scott and I waiting for the "El." I made him wear that green shirt.














This is what the houses look like in Chicago.














Isn't Chicago nice? They even provide fire to keep the homeless pigeons warm.















The Lincoln Building is so cool--it has rocks from all over the world. I had to walk around the building twice, but I found the coolest one.














I really enjoyed downtown. Chicago has its own personality that I think is more enjoyable than New York. I told Scott that Chicago is funky, Boston is classy, and New York is big and dirty. He contended that Chicago is better than New York and Boston combined, but I beg to differ. Boston still wins in my mind, but I at least know that Chicago would be an enjoyable place to live. I love that there are some more open spaces so seeing the buildings is easier.














This one made me do a double-take. It's for the First United Methodist Church. There are only a few Christian churches that still have temples like in Christ's day. Luckily we know what's supposed to go on in there.














I couldn't decide which version I liked better. Notice the nature vs. man-made theme.















This is a cool art installment. These two faces (the people change) stare at each other and sometimes water comes out of their mouths (not now, it's too cold).

















This is the Jay Pritzker pavilion, designed by Frank Gehry. SO COOL.















Scott and I being reflected in The Bean.














What lawn? Is there even grass in this area?












Dancing Scott:




We had fun looking at the enormous shoes at Nordstrom Rack. Scott's shoe fit inside of them.

The First Day of Travel

A combination of no sleep (okay, approximately 50 minutes) and avoidance of emotion over leaving family and friends made me a bit sick on the plane, but I was able to doze a bit anyway.

I caught up on my journal document. Let me just remark here that my Mac's battery is amazing! It's like the Energizer bunny or something.

I gaped out the window when we flew under the clouds towards Boston: trees grow densely everywhere! You see little dents in the forest where houses are, it's so thick.

Boston is so cool. This is my city!

After dragging around my carry-on, I realized there is more than one Church Street, and I happened to need the one in Everett. Everett is cute, don't get me wrong (I would know, I saw the whole thing because I missed the stop and had to go all the way around again), but it's not Boston. There are some hardcore accents up here. I thought this girl must be from a different country, but nope! I can't wait to go back tomorrow morning and start exploring. This is going to be awesome! There's nothing like getting lost in a cool city.

Ya know, I don't think I'm even going to go out and find some dinner. I'm just going to make plans for tomorrow and go to bed. Chocolate slim fast, a granola bar, a bite of mint chocolate, and a cup of water is enough for today. I must admit that I want to protest the fact that there is only coffee tomorrow morning. What about people like me?

The Big Trip's Master Plan

Although my trip is still in the vague stages, here is the master plan:

Leave for Boston on the 21st.
Spend two hours in Chicago on the way.
Do a bunch of cool stuff in Boston for one week (including the Freedom Trail, some cool art museums and libraries, and a Women's History Museum).
Leave for Manchester on the 28th.
Spend a week with Marie and her family. Wahoo!
Go to London for a week or so.
Fly from London to Altenburg using Ryanair (probably will cost only a few Euros).
Take the train or a bus to Leipzig.
Good luck finding a place.

So far, I've only researched Boston and skimmed through the Manchester section of the England book. The most exciting thing I could see was that Manchester is the home of Oasis!

Hit the Turkey With Your Purse (Literally)

For all those people celebrating Thanksgiving today (and happy birthday to my sister Amy), here is something I enjoyed:

Wild Turkeys' Lurking Puts Boston Area on Edge

Turkeys on the Lam

October 24, 2007 · Wild turkeys have begun roaming the streets of Massachusetts towns, from Plymouth to Concord and even parts of Boston. The birds get up to 4 feet tall, weigh about 20 pounds — and they bite.

A picture from Tuesday's Boston Globe shows a turkey strutting it's stuff down the sidewalk on Brookline's busy Beacon Street.

Animal Control Officer Pierre Verrier has been fielding the harrowing calls coming into the Brookline police station over the past few months. His advice for someone facing a turkey attack? "Try to hit the turkey with your purse or something — make it move away from you."

Boston, Buying Shoes, and Being Pregnant

I went through my Fodor's Boston today. What a cool city! I have wanted to go there for years and it's finally going to happen. It sounds like there are at least ten museums that I want to go to, not to mention Old Ironsides, some historical churches, a blues and jazz place, and the Holocaust memorial.

After being supportive of soccer-playing relatives (it should be "football-playing," if you ask me), Tanya and I proceded to Old Navy, where I bought a three-dollar skirt and some shoes. These shoes are similar to the rocketdogs I've been coveting for several months now, just pointier and not plaid. One thing my mom knows about me: I always seem to buy the wrong size shoes. Either I don't pay too much attention to how they fit while I'm at the store, or I worry too much and get worried and go back and forth about which size is best. Tonight, it was the first scenario. The sevens were too tight, so I grabbed the eights, bought them, and went home. Then I realized that there's about an inch between my toe and the end of the shoe. WHY?

While at Old Navy, I found a darling, gathered scoopneck shirt and decided to try it on. WHOA! It was horrible! It fit wrong in all the wrong (or right?) places. I was horrified at how bad it was. I called to Tanya (in the next stall) with, "This shirt is awful!" Of course, she wanted to see. I didn't want to show her, but I had to ask her about the skirt I had on. I opened the door and saw the scariest look of shock and fear I've ever seen on her face. "It makes me look pregnant!" I said. Later she confided that she was so shocked because she "saw Michelle pregnant!" It wasn't just the flowy bottom part of the shirt, it was the fact that for once Michelle looked chesty in a bad kind of way. The gathers just . . . gathered. I will never buy a gathered scoopneck. Not one that is that gathered, anyway.

Friday Near Fenway

Kay, that was really weird. I just turned around to type on my computer and felt like I was going to faint. Today turned out to be just lovely. (What day in Boston wouldn't be lovely?) My feet didn't fall off, they just turned red.

I saw the Museum of Fine Arts, and my oh my were there some fine arts! I couldn't believe all the big names. If Mrs. Syrett, my old art history teacher, hasn't been there, she should totally go. I also liked the contemporary Japanese display questioning the concept of things being too cute, or "kawaii" I think it was, to cover problems. I enjoyed seeing the old pianos in the musical instrument room, but I didn't enjoy listening to the guard there talk to me for 50 minutes even though I ignored him while I read about different instruments and said I had to go several times. His motorcycle-riding outfit matches his green motorcycle, and he thinks rock climbing is dangerous (I said, "That's what bullayers are for," but he seemed to believe a movie he saw instead). Yes, I filmed him. I have no idea what I was saying at the end. It's incredible he never noticed my lack of interest.




I also took a picture of myself at the Boston University English Department. I totally scared this lady who was coming out of the bathroom (unintentionally), only to find out a few moments later that she was the English department secretary.


I'd heard earlier this week that people were meeting at the chapel for baptisms, so I had packed my bag for the occasion. Unfortunately, while packing, I realized that I packed my white skirt but forgot a slip, so the black skirt it was! Anyway, I was going to get dinner on the way to the chapel, but I didn't want to pay nine bucks for a sandwich, so I went to the Hi-Rise Bakery which closed early! So I walked back around the block (blocks here may take you to somewhere completely different since they're not square) and said, "I'm back!" at the sandwich shop. As the girl made my sandwich, I discovered the sign that said, "Purchases with plastic must be at least 20 dollars." Yikes! I didn't want to go to a bank like she suggested. I told her I had six dollars and 25 cents. She picked some smaller pieces of bread and sold the sandwich to me with a wink. We talked as she made the sandwich (which, by the way, had amazingly savory seeds of some kind on it), and we had a lot in common. She had been to Germany because she had been dating a German. She broke off their engagement (we high-fived on this one, it took two tries). She's been to England. So I waved goodbye to her with my cheaper sandwich and headed for the chapel where I waited for an hour to no avail. I got a lot of good reading in, took a picture of myself at Longfellow's house, and played the organ, but no one showed.

I met up with Tiffany Evans, who turns out to be a really cool girl who graduated from Olympus with my brother Jeff. She took me on a triple date (yep, she bought my ice cream-filled cupcake/brownie). We went with friends of hers to the Italian festival, looking at earrings and dresses and trying free samples. She is really cute and friendly and smart. Tomorrow we're going to the beach.

Random Bostonian Activities

We did a lot of random things today. By "we," I mean Laura and Alana (my roommates) and I. The random things were awesome, though.

1. We took forever to get to South Station to meet some friends who were leaving to LA by TRAIN!

2. We walked around Harvard, looking at bookstores and churches. (Yeah, I can't figure out how to turn the picture on my Mac. It shows the correct direction, but it won't load on Blogger that way.)

3. We found the LDS church and a missionary I know (no, it wasn't J.R., and yes, tell the Curtises, I asked them to say hi when they saw him).

4. We got a ride from one of the guys at the church--we saw UMass and a revolutionary war memorial where they shot cannons at ships that were approaching Boston. I had fun explaining things about American history to my British friends, especially when the stories involved the British being the bad guys, ha ha, even though we were considered British at the time.

5. We heard the guy's wife (who will be having twins) sing some beautiful German opera by Mozart about a lovable violet.

6. We went to dinner at a place that gives a free, three-course meal to girls on Wednesdays. They want you to get drinks, but we got fruit juice, which ended up being free anyway. I had the best steak tips I have ever had in my life. The guy told me that they are marinated in sugar! (Try that, Mom.)

7. We walked through Chinatown looking for boba and ended up going through a Chinese market buying candy and pretty moon cake tins instead.

8. We went to Boston Common and watched these guys play baseball with wiffle balls. We wanted to try, but it was a really serious game because the losers would have to buy the winners their drinks during the Red Sox game.

9. We walked to Quincy Market to walk around the shops.

10. We heard a guy play the buckets. (Like drums.)



Alana and Laura are so awesome. We discussed how it felt like we'd been friends for ages. They are from England and both have beautiful, curly hair. Laura said I'm "cheeky in a good way," and we discussed all the words that differ between British and American English. I'm so glad to have met them. They are wonderfully fun. I hope we can meet up again some day.

The Mormon Connection

Everywhere I've gone, I've run into the blessed Mormon Connection. It's amazing. Even Alana couldn't believe that I met people everywhere who knew someone I knew or had some connection . . . it's really quite a blessing.

Today, I took the tram to church. When I went to get off, instead of looking for the church, I saw some sister missionaries and talked to them as they led the way.

One of the sisters is from Boston and knows all my Boston friends.
One of the sisters is from Mt. Pleasant but she moved there too late to know Uncle Scott and Aunt Judy.
A beautiful girl named Ramona who is moving is going to call me about an apartment.
Sister Weber talked to me and invited me to live at her house. (I laugh looking back. You know the part in Better Off Dead where the French girl keep shaking John Cusack's hand, because she's excited to meet him and get away from Ricky? I shook this lady's hand vigorously, twice.) It sounds like an amazing offer, the only thing I'm weighing right now is if it will be too inconvenient since her family lives about twenty minutes out and the bus doesn't come as often. It would be nice to live with a family, but will I wish later that I had a place I could stop at for a snack between classes or something? Maybe I should try it for a semester . . . Then again, it's about time I live away from the family life.
There are a lot of YSAs since Leipzig is mostly a college town. The people I've met already seem really nice.
The German was so fast, I couldn't understand much today besides single words that I picked out. I'm sure it will get better with time, especially since I do what I can to keep conversations in German. Several people introduced themselves, and the senior missionaries are so excited for me to be here. Francy and I are going to have dinner at their house tonight and then we'll go to the fireside with the General Primary President.

Tie-Gyle, the "JUMP", Mandarin testimonies, silly me

(Transferred from my old blog on 18 August 2008.)

I've been stressing because my counselor let me know that I could not graduate and go to Boston in the same semester. I tried to figure out ways, but it was just too close to call, because of a residency requirement. So I think that the plan now is to graduate in the summer and either work there with an internship, or find one here, or start grad school there. Then I can go on a mission in the spring! Wahoo!

On Thanksgiving, Mom took me to Shopko and bought me a coat that was on sale for $25! She also got me some nice pants and a sweater. I finally have a coat, and just in time! It snowed the next day quite a bit and I really needed it today. I'm wearing it as I speak. After we ate a ton of food at Rick's (the stuffing and the orange rolls that Mom made were my favorite, although I've never had such a good turkey), we went to Grandma Smith's and had some pie. I talked to Lee for a while. I don't think I've ever done that. He went to Holland on his mission, so we talked about Dutch and German. Then I played some ping pong. On the way back, Mom hit the jump better than we ever have. We all thought she would stop, because when we came over the hill, the light was already green. She gunned it! We flew over that bump, screamed, landed, flew again, and landed. Holy mongrel! I bet the car waiting to turn left at the intersection was totally freaked out. I'm laughing my head off as I type this. It was so awesome and so good that it wasn't snowy and that we didn't die and that the axel didn't break. Then I went to Clay's grandparent's house and played "Obnoxious", their version of Phase 10. I did better than Clay, which is what his uncle was hoping for.

Clay has done a lot of nice things for me. He knew I was stressing out, so he called me one night (I was already in bed at 9), and told me to check my mailbox. There were Ghirardelli chocolates and a card that said, "Happy Turkey Day!" He wrote in there that he knew it wasn't Thanksgiving yet, but he wanted to let me know that he was grateful to know me! Wow! Then he brought me a Lollicup at work! He had to look on every floor and finally found me on third. The other night he grabbed my guitar and started playing. I realized he had taught himself this song that I told him was one of my favorites. He's so great, I'm just not ready for a huge commitment yet. I think that the whole Matt thing kind of messed up my relationship skills. Anyway, Clay and I went to a party at Marci's on Friday, and we played Mille Bornes and Canasta and Skip-Bo. She had good sandwiches and gave me a whole bag of rolls to take home. It snowed a ton!

I finally talked to Suzanne T about not working very much at EMC. It scared me, but Katie, as usual, helped me know what to say. I just told her that I needed to spend some time with Grandma before she dies. She said that it was fine, and I told her I could work a tiny bit, so she said just to let her know when I can or can't come in. I will miss Grandma so much! I can't believe how awesome she is! The same spirit that possesses you at death will have the power to possess you in the after-life. I heard that again yesterday and it made me glad that Grandma's so awesome. She's dealing with her pain and trying to be upbeat, but I've never seen anyone suffer so much! I keep thinking that she's going up to prepare a heavenly cabin for us to go to, since ours here will be gone soon.

I asked Wil if I could talk to him. I asked him what I could do to be a better employee. He was dumbfounded for a while. He looked at my stats, and kept apologizing. He also repeatedly asked if I was worried about something. Finally he said, "Okay, now just let me talk. When we get together in our meetings, and we think 'Michelle' , we like what she brings to the unit. She's hardworking and optimistic and . . . ." He went on and on and I was kind of embarrassed, but it was good to know that I'm appreciated. He even let me in on a secret about what they're doing with the employees in the next year and told me not to tell anyone. Then we talked about my family and Boston and North Carolina, etc. I was so glad that I went in there.

On Wednesday, Tanya and I bought some tie-dye stuff and some white t-shirts. I told her I thought it would be funny if we made an argyle shirt, because I've been obsessed with argyle lately, but the problem is, since it's too current of a style, I can't get any without breaking my 10 dollar rule. Then we decided to tape diamonds onto the shirts and then spray on the tie-dye! We named it tie-gyle! It looks pretty funny, but it's cool. Tanya was jealous because hers bled all over, but I was more careful. I even used food coloring to make two pink diamonds and a green one right in the middle. Then we put some on the sleeves, and Tanya forgot to put a bag in her sleeve, so it bled through and looks like she has pinkish-yellowish sweat. Who knows if the food coloring will stay or not . . .

Weird, non-chronological order, sorry. On Friday, I went on a date with Steve. Grandpa hugged me before I left and said that I smelled so good "that boy will want to get close". Haha. We went to Passages across from Temple Square. They had GOOD ROLLS! Yummy! I think we both ate a meal's worth of rolls, and so the real meal we couldn't really finish. Then we went to Steve's house and played Apples to Apples with his family. I WON! I never win that game! Yippy!

I stayed up late last night writing and researching this essay, and then got up early this morning (4:30) to finish it. I was so proud of the final product, it really was a nice paper. Then, at 7:04 AM I realized I had done the wrong essay! I did the re-write instead of the one that's due today! NO! I can't believe it! I am such an idiot.

So I wanted to go visit Grandma right after school, but I've got to turn in this essay. Wow, they need to dust in here. My teeth are bad again. That is a SCARY BAD SIGN! (Instead of very, ha.) I'm going to call the dentist in a bit.

Oh, guess what! I went to three sacrament meetings yesterday: Craig Barton's farewell, Grandma and Dan's homecoming, and Joey Mortensen's homecoming. First off, Craig's talk was AMAZING. I can't believe how much he has grown and matured in the last year. It's a good thing he waited. At the end of his talk he bore his testimony in MANDARIN! COOL! He kept saying something that sounded like the word "censure" to me, but it was nifty. How many people can do that before their mission? And in Mandarin? Anyway, next, we left Craig's early to go to my Grandma's, and I was mad because Joey said he was going to be at Craig's and that he wanted to see me. At Grandma's, there were like forty people in the chapel and 25 to thirty of them were related to me. Then we stopped at her house for some food, and went on our way to Joey's. It was so awesome! He is so funny and intelligent. I can't believe the memory he has. He remembers everything that anyone has ever told him, and he knows so many poems, even one about a hippopotamus that's really funny. Anyway, Emily has liked him for a long time, and I can't say I haven't had my moments, but she doesn't know what to do because she's kind of dating this other guy. We stood at the church for a long time (his mom wasn't very happy that most of the "guests" had left when we got to his house with the actual missionary). We all talked for about three hours before we finally left. We're starting our own book club, possibly to be called the Melinda Lane Book Club.

Stuttgart Silvester Tagung

Marcl and Bryan picked me up from the Müller's house and seemed surprised at my limited baggage. Next to the two missionary-sized suitcases, my backpack looked like a purse. Inka's suitcase only further worried me. What more should I have brought? With four of us in the car, it took us quite a while to really leave for the Stuttgart Silvester Tagung (New Year's Eve Convention, but less professional and more fun than it sounds) as two people forgot things and lived in opposite directions. As we drove further and further from Leipzig, I thought of how I would miss the Müllers.

Four hours and two naps (for me, at least) later, we made it to snowy Stuttgart. The stakehouse was decked out for the first casual dance, which included a chill lounge, a game room (with the typical fußball and ping pong), and one of those big jumpy things, which was shaped like Noah's ark.

We slept in a sport hall (girls and boys in separate gyms). I was grateful that Inka had bought some posh ear plugs (they were malleable wax with a fuzzy cotton layer on the outside).

Saturday morning was spent with a small gospel class at the Stuttgart institute, a walk into the city center, us seeing The Golden Compass (which I both understood and quite enjoyed, I think I wrote a report on that book at least 8 years ago). Then we split into groups and went around the city with cameras, trying to gain points for different activities, which were hilarious.












I ended up asking a man who was staring at us if we could trade shoes for a few steps, which was one of the requirements I figured I could handle. (Yes, they were my plaid shoes that have holes in them. He laughed when I said that his were comfortable and warm.) We also asked people if they had washed their hands as they left the toilet, sang a Christmas song on the Castle Plaza, welcomed people to Burger King, made a congo line, yelled "Stop that thief," and asked a man for his tie, among other things. By then, Inka and I were exhausted, so we went back to the stakehouse and started the fad of sleeping in the chill lounge. By the time we left, there had been at least twenty nappers in there. I slept against the heater and woke up with red eyes. After dinner, we all headed to the local beach hall, a place filled with imported sand. I enjoyed a short bit of beach football (wow, you can't really run, can you?), but especially the volleyball. I surprised more than a few people with my serves, so that was fun.
















Sunday morning showering was fun. Let's just say that being in Germany makes me step out of a lot of comfort zones. After church, all of us went for a walk, or spazieren. I have meant for quite a while to write a post about spazieren, look forward to that. I talked to Frank's brother the whole time, which was quite enjoyable. Then we went back to the stakehouse and enjoyed a fireside given by a last-minute replacement. The man who spoke had some really random subjects and a few opinions that I didn't quite agree with, but it was nice of him to fill in, even if it went way longer than everyone wanted. Then we had a game night that was a little too boisterous for my taste on a Sunday, although it was amusing to see a girl get duct-taped to a wall. Inka and I sat in the chill lounge and talked. As it got later and later, my begging efforts were continuously fruitless, so we finally took the shuttle back.

Monday, Inka and I brought everything we needed to prepare for the ball with us to the stakehouse. She had discovered that there was a shower we could use where we wouldn't be fighting for mirrors and power plugs like all the other girls in the sport hall. After a good fußball fight (wherein Inka was excited to have made a few goals) and a morning gospel class, close to 200 of us split into groups to do different activities in the city. I chose ice skating even though my feet hurt already from dancing and walking. Frank, Robert, Marcl, and Inka said they'd come too. The entire time, Frank was to be seen zooming around doing fancy skating. (I have asked him several times now, "Is there anything you're not good at?") Inka entertained herself teaching people how to do pirouettes, Marcl continued cracking his jokes, and I basically just had fun throwing snowballs from ice shavings, learning how to do pirouettes, playing tag, helping little kids up who had fallen, and holding onto Frank as he skated us around the ring.















I had one huge fall as I avoided being tagged and remembered that it's much better to fall on your bum. Check out this bruise (there's a similar one on the other knee, which is also just as bony and pasty):
















Then I waited as some people got lunch at Burger King. We had a bit of fun with the crowns there, then headed back to the stakehouse and tried to learn to knit. Wow, why do people knit? Crocheting is so much easier! I could never remember how many loops I had already done and didn't get very far before I decided to amuse myself elsewhere, which turned out to be the awesome piano in the chapel, drawing some nice people who showed off their piano skills. Inka and I finally showered and got ready for the ball. A girl who is a beautician did my hair while I tried to cover my rebellious skin.
















The ball was fabulous. Everyone got glow-in-the-dark wrist bands, everyone looked great, the dinner was fabulous, but my favorite was the dancing. Frank was the best dance partner, as he can twist and twirl and basically make it so exciting I just wanted to dance the whole night.












We were given a few minutes to think back on the last year. I thought of hard times at the FHL, of writing the training manual. I thought of all the traveling I had done, from San Francisco to Moab to Havasu to Costa Rica to Boston to Manchester to London to Leipzig. I thought of the dark, dissatisfaction I felt for a while and of the satisfaction I felt on moving to Leipzig. I thought of my family and friends and of the future. Then we watched as fireworks went up all over Leipzig and the snow came down.












Although it must be tradition here for everyone to hug everyone else and say "Beautiful new year" or "Healthy new year," I got a little wary of hugging all these strangers (even though I've come a long way here in Germany). Then everyone went back to dancing. Inka considerately came and found me when she heard that one of the cars was going back at about 3:30. I found out the next morning that people had gotten back at 6. That's A.M. Crazers. The breakfast the next morning was fabulous. I put away all of this:













People wrote their last notes to each other, we took a group picture, and we had one last dance (I danced with Frank). Then we had a lovely testimony meeting. I had decided to go up when they said they were going to close. I guess I'll have to wait until Sunday.

On the way back, the snow came down beautifully as we drove (and as I napped), but it decided to stop almost as soon as we passed the Sachsen border. Yes, I have a hair sticking straight up in this picture at the rest stop:















I realized that I left my beloved scarf from Ronda in Stuttgart. Marcl wryly suggested that I'll just have to knit myself a new one. I thought back on the last few days and here are some of my thoughts:

-I didn't end up feeling like I needed much more than what I had brought, but it would have been nice to look a little cuter like all the other girls. One of my friends pointed out that me getting ready faster and being a cheapskate ("Sparfuchs" in German, literally "save fox" in English) would pay off some day, and I asked why. He said that I would make someone really happy while other husbands would be fretting as their wives were still getting ready.
-It was great to hear and speak German for four days straight. There were a few Americans there, but I avoided them like the plague, reasons for which are debatable.
-I wish Tanya was there.
-I wish Seppl was there.
-I found it hilarious how prepared Inka was. She whipped out one of those electrical outlet divider thingies (what is it in English?!?), a song book, an umbrella, and other random things that we ended up needing.
-I like dancing and want to dance a lot more.
-I had reinforced that I don't like staying up ridiculously late. Or just late.
-It was great getting to know Leipzig friends even better.

Of course, we had to have an after-party party, so we gathered at Bryan's apartment. I got to try out his new piano with the headphones. People laughed to hear the keys being pushed but not to hear music. I could have been playing anything and it would have sounded impressive. We watched a movie that my family has, I don't remember what it is called in English. I wonder how understandable football films are for Europeans. I know they like Remember the Titans. I think they still enjoyed it. I want to see Bridge to Terabithia next.

For now, sleep!

The True Church

Alana asked me if she could go to church with me. That made it quite easy. Since we couldn't find a skirt for her, she ended up wearing my black one, and I wore the white one that was in need of a slip (somehow I moved it out of my suitcase before leaving Salt Lake, whoops). I just kept my legs together and myself against things that were not windows or lights . . .

Anyway, I told her a lot about the Bible and the Book of Mormon and other things I could think of, like the sacrament. I'm not sure what she thought about the whole thing, I prayed that she would feel the Spirit.

Half the Mitcham ward is made up of wonderful people from Ghana, even the bishop. People immediately asked Alana and I if we were BYU students, which we found strange. Then the real BYU students walked in and we found out that each ward is given a few of the BYU London program students. One of them knows Jeff and Tiffany . . . Bethany Pinnock! I went to school with her sister, Jessica. Wow. Alana couldn't believe all the random people I meet. The same thing happened in Boston with the missionaries.

I was grateful when one of the men shook our hands and asked Alana if she'd like to talk to the missionaries. We gave the elders her number so the elders in her boundaries could call. She is wonderful and I would love for her to know the Gospel, my friends, and my family. I hope she can visit Salt Lake with me some time.

Boston to Manchester, Up Til Thursday Night

I shipped my cell phone, the charger, and the Boston guide books back to Utah and made it to the T with just enough time before my Charlie pass expired. Of course, it stopped working and the guy there had to scan me in, but I knew it would stop when I saw how sweaty it got in my pocket every day.

The flight to Shannon was interesting. I debated whether to check my biggest bag or not and finally decided that since I'd be taking the smaller planes from Ireland to England that it might not fit as well, so I checked it. It's always a weird sensation to cross so many time zones: it feels like you've had the longest day ever, but it's really been two days. I slept on and off during the flights and the transfers. I wanted to go into Dublin proper but was told that there probably wasn't enough time between flights, so I read my book instead.

I worried about looking greasy, dirty, tired, and having bad breath, which all make a bad first impression. I ended up having other worries: my suitcase didn't show up. I filled out a missing baggage report and dug through my bag until I found my baggage number. Unfortunately, I couldn't give them an address or phone number, so I told them I'd call them later.

Walking out of the airport, I knew who Marie was first thing. It was exactly as I pictured: a smiling woman with two redheads. Yay! They hugged me and we talked about crocs as we walked to the car. I definitely opened the wrong side of the car (the driver's side over here) right as Marie remarked that I'd probably go to the wrong side. Ha ha. Driving on the left wasn't so scary as much as I just kept thinking that we were either on a one-way or that she had forgotten to get over to the right. We drove through beautiful country roads and I was surprised to see how much England looks like Germany: the buildings, the trees, the signs, etc.

We dropped everything off at the Viners' lovely, pristine home. Marie and I had a lot of nice conversation. There is never a dull moment with her. She is so positive, energetic, and gospel-centred. (I spelled it that way in honor of Marie.) Marie and her four sisters and mother were taught the gospel and baptized by my dad and his companion 31 years ago. My middle name is Marie after her. Just like Anne Shirley discovered, I am discovering that there are a lot of kindred spirits in the world. Marie is a wonderful mother. She loves to scrapbook. Jonathan and James are so fun. They showed me their scrapbooks and I enjoyed talking to and playing sports with both of them.

James had football (soccer in America, although I've thought for a long time that we should fix that and go to the metric system). It was cold out there, even though the sun was shining. (Alas, my jacket is in the suitcase.) We talked to a nice man Marie calls "Granddad" about ghosts. I stole Jonathan's soccer ball a few times, which impressed him. Give him a few years and he'll realize my skills are actually quite lousy. You should have seen James's face when I told him I was a certified soccer ref. On the way back home, we stopped at an old church and looked at the graveyard. We walked inside and Marie told the vicar there that I love organs. He let me play! Cool! I was so nervous, I didn't do so well on "All Creatures of Our God and King," but "Be Still My Soul" turned out quite well.

Marie made cajun salmon for tea. Yum, yum! I taught her how to blog and use analytics and everything. Her site is theviners.blogspot.com. Si came home and we watched the Man City game. I had no trouble whatsoever falling asleep.

Thursday: I woke up at 8:30, took a shower (Marie had to come turn on the hot water for me, it's outside the bathroom according to the old code that electricity shouldn't be near the water), put on some of Marie's clothing which fit very nicely, and had some cereal. Simon had already left for work. We stopped by the mission home and saw the current mission president's wife, Sister Jacobsen. Then we went to Tatton House, an enormous estate with a farm (pigs, cows, roosters, etc.), a mansion, a garden, a restaurant, herds of deer, and a nice playground. James, Jonathan, and I played football until Marie decided to join up, girls against boys. She made an awesome goal and sacrificed her toenail for it.

We took Jonathan to his swimming class; he is a silver swimmer, meaning he is almost to the top gold classification. Every kind of education here sounds phenomenal. I couldn't believe the kind of math that 7-year-old James is doing. Division already! They start school at age 4.

We made dumpling stew in the slow-cooker for tea. Si came home and we had quite a time comparing music. He loves Coldplay and Oasis (whose hometown is Manchester). Marie and I made superman cupcakes. I accidentally dumped the frosting mix into the cupcake mix, so they were funny. After the kids were in bed, Si, Marie, and I watched a British comedy called "The Vicar of Dibley." Then we headed to bed. I think I fell asleep praying, as I went to bed around 10 and got into bed at 11:14, not remembering what I had been doing.

No word on the baggage. I've called several times. Marie has been so kind about letting me use their things.

Thursday 6 September

I decided to follow Amy’s specific for-a-day instructions. Luckily, the tube strike has been called off and I haven’t run into any troubles whatsoever. I got off at the London Bridge stop, walked west until I ran into Southwark Cathedral (pronounced “Suthek”). There I saw a window for Chaucer, a memorial to Shakespeare, a nice organ, etc. Then I walked to the Globe Theatre and bought two groundling tickets for “Love’s Labour Lost” next Wednesday. Walking along the Thames, I got a nice view of the city and ran into the Tate Modern, which had free admittance to most exhibits. Wow! I think that was the most complete modern art museum I’ve ever seen. The one in Boston was really cool, but the Tate Modern is like a battleship-looking building with five floors. No one could beat it. I saw LeWitt, Judd, Lye, Mondrian, Medalla (his bubbles fountain next to a marvelous view of the Thames), Soto, Beuys, Baccioni’s Unique Forms of Continuity in Space, Picasso, Braque, Duchamp, Matisse Warhol, Johns, Lichtenstein, Richter, Rivera, Klee, and Frampton! I loved the timeline they had on the wall and wanted a copy, but you know me: if I can get it on the internet, why should I pay for clutter?

Then I crossed the Thames on the Millennium Bridge and went to St. Paul’s. Admittance was really expensive and I could see a lot of cool things from the desk, so I took a look around and went to eat a raisin biscuit (Dad’s two favorite things) on the “feed the birds” steps with two hundred other people and pigeons hopping around. On the London map that Marie gave me, it didn’t seem too far to the British Library, so I started walking and walking and walking. (Tube fares add up quickly, especially going to Tooting.) I discovered that I had been looking at the British Museum on the map and the library was even more to the north and back a few blocks. I’d made it this far, so I kept walking, reading my book as I walked. I got to the point where I just couldn’t read it anymore! It was so cheesy, worse than Tess of the D’urbervilles! Sentence after sentence about physical touch and swiftly-swinging emotions, blah blah blah . . . I guess the exact things that made me not like it as much are what make teenage girls like it. Give me some depth!

I stopped at the Wellcome Collection and decided to go back when Alana’s done with her exam. That way she can see the heart exhibit. When I finally made it to the library, my feet were on fire. I figure I walked about five miles. I was amazed at the conserved collection there: they had music written by Rachmaninov (his second symphony), Handel’s Messiah, napkins whereon the Beatles wrote lyrics, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, things from Whitman, stamps from the recovering Germany, the first volume of Shakespeare, Captain James Cook’s journal, religious scriptures from all over (except Palmyra), Darwin’s notes, and two copies of the Magna Carte! The inside of the building was beautiful as you can see in the picture.

Eventually I went back to Tooting. Alana and I went jogging with the jogging club. They weren’t joggers. They were runners. Once we got through some neighborhoods of Wimbledon, Alana kindly let us turn back, leaving the group to fly. They were sick of waiting up for us anyway. It totally reminded me of Sister Barton’s observation that people wait up for the slow ones on hikes and once the slow ones arrive, they leave immediately, giving the slow ones no break. On the way back, Alana humored my wish to go into the cemetery and look around. We laughed about how most people travel to shop and eat and I travel to see churches (mostly for the organs), cemeteries, and libraries. After seeing a few nice gravestones, we turned to leave and discovered that the gates were locked! We couldn’t get out. For a few moments we surveyed the fences and found a nice spot close to a tree. Using our nicely stretched-out hamstrings we swung our feet up onto the top between spikes and jumped down, all while bicyclists and cars stared at us. Hilarious. Alana remarked that it would be really funny if we jumped out right as the other joggers were coming back.

We made some delicious prawn, tomato, and onion sauce to put on noodles. Then we made a cake for Jo’s friend’s birthday (Jo is another housemate). As I looked through the available cookbooks for a recipe, I eventually realized that when they say, “cake,” they don’t mean the basic fluffy thing with frosting on top that we mean. Jo pointed out a sandwich pastry thing with cream and jam in the middle. It turned out more like an American cake anyway. Tomorrow we’re putting cream and strawberries on top. Tonight I’ll sleep on the mattress that Alana has.

American accents are starting to sound foreign . . .

June Write-Away Contest

Here is my June write-away submission for the blog Scribbit. It didn't turn out quite like I wanted it, but the deadline is today, so I don't have time to revise. It explores some deep parts of my life and I don't have a title I like yet.

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

When I graduated from high school, the traditional graduation gift was given to me: Dr. Seuss’s book Oh, the Places You’ll Go! With its swirling colors and lofty aspirations, I’m sure the gift giver thought that I would love it as a book from one book lover to another. The thought was nice, but vague goals in childish fantasy were not for me. I put the book on my shelf and forgot about it. I had higher education to pursue and dates to go on. I had money to earn and adventures to experience. A few harsh heartbreaks, two study abroad programs, one job, and a bachelor’s degree later, my next goal was to go on that mission for my church that I had wanted to go on since spending a day with the sisters in Atlanta, Georgia.

Accomplishing this was easier said than done. I rejoiced that the time had come; I attended a plethora of institute classes, I was a frequenter of the Sunday-morning mission prep class, I saw the required doctors, I got the classy collared-shirt picture taken, and I sent in the application with gusto. My family, ward, and friends were excited to see where I would go, but no one could have been more excited than I. The week the call was to arrive, I pulled some strings through a friend to go pick up the call instead of waiting for it to be sent to my house.

Even after the envelope was safely in my bag, my mind was on it as I made my way home. Once I was sitting on my bed, I opened the package. It was all nicely arranged, with pictures of what kind of clothing would be acceptable, a little something from my mission president, and of course the mission I would be serving in and when I was expected to show up at the training center. I don’t know if I was awaiting some sublime moment, but I felt instead rather disconnected, as if it was unreal. Waiting to tell my family and friends where I had been called to until that night left time all during my brother’s wrestling meet to think about the call to serve. No meaning came to me. It was simply a place, a place I would work in, sweat in, love in, learn in—a fact I tried to come to terms with.

As expected, my family and friends rejoiced, but as the weeks passed, I found my thoughts wandering. I was thinking about what I would do afterwards; that year and a half took a blank space in my mind, even though it was something I prepared for every day.

I wasn’t afraid of learning a new language, in fact, I had secretly hoped for the opportunity (even if was just to improve my limited German skills). It wasn’t just that I couldn’t see myself serving in the country where I had been called. I couldn’t see myself serving at all anymore. Myself as a missionary was not an image that fit, and for someone with a very vivid imagination, that was big-time. I reprimanded myself for my disloyal thoughts. After all, when I set my mind to something, I’m going to do it! I prayed and studied harder, but I became more and more confused. I turned to a boy I was dating to see what potential was there. I needed to know if that was why I was confused, but I was unable to find any assurance. My mom saw my inner turmoil and said one night that maybe I wasn’t supposed to go, which annoyed me. “God wouldn’t curse me for serving Him,” I said. I’m just nervous, I told myself over and over. I just need to go and do what’s right.

I read talk after talk from church authorities telling people to put aside their selfishness and to go out and serve, but one scene kept replaying itself in my mind: I had asked my stake president (a church leader) several months before how girls knew if they were supposed to go. He had answered simply, “Your desire to serve is your answer,” which had completely satisfied me at the time, because I had that desire burning within me. Where was the desire to serve now and why had it vanished? What was I doing wrong? I searched and searched for some kind of reassurance, for some kind of motivation, but I found none. Life turned to chaos, bedlam, uncertainty, even though everything was going smoothly.

My bishop (congregation leader) advised me to go to the temple. Part of me wanted to be obedient and justified in my mind that the temple can never be a bad thing, but the other part of me said that it wasn’t the right time. One day that I scheduled to go found me in the worst mood. Until then, I had been internally confused, but that day I was unable to keep myself from snapping at others and I felt like crying the whole day. I finally canceled the trip, saying I would go later. In the meantime, confusion built to the point that I thought I was either going to have to find peace or I would explode from this personal turmoil.

One cold January morning, standing at the bus stop on a cold morning, I called my sister. Usually in times of stress, I called her and relayed events to her, but this time, I couldn’t complain about work or social life or family or money. I had nothing to convey but a feeling. I felt miserable as I tried to put my confusion into words, as I cried about my inability to understand what was happening, as I was unable to swallow anymore because the pain in my throat was so bad. As always, my patient and wise sister had the kind of answer that helped me understand the answer I had already received. As soon as I said, “I’m so confused, I don’t even know what I’m confused about,” she said, “Helllllooo, you know this already. That’s a stupor of thought. You just need to let go and think for just one minute what would happen if you didn’t go.”

For several hours, I fought the idea anyway. Of course I was going to go. I’d wanted to for so long! This was what I had aimed for, and nothing could take me from my goal, but fighting so hard against the obvious drained me. I don’t remember where I was, but I remember the feeling. The exact moment I allowed myself to think that maybe I shouldn’t go, it was like being able to fall asleep in the middle of a loud and rowdy concert. I felt peace for the first time in a month. I was aware that I was alive, that there was something for me, that I had been fighting my answer for the last month. I knew that I wasn’t to go on this mission and that that was okay.

Nevertheless, I waited about a week to tell anyone. I wanted to make sure this feeling was consistent. I enjoyed the fruits of the peace; I flew through everyday events with a smile on my face and a laugh in my eyes. Three days after I had decided and four days before I told anyone, my boss called me at home. He said he didn’t know why since I would be leaving so soon, but he felt like he should promote me. This of course complicated things, as it then looked to jealous coworkers like I gave up the mission because I had been promoted. I didn’t care what they thought because I had my answer and I knew I had made the right decision.

My change in plans surprised friends and family (immediate family not so much, I think), but they were supportive, sometimes too supportive. Everyone seemed to have the idea that it must be because I was going to get married instead. It’s true that a newly-budding relationship with a wonderful young man was something I looked forward to after each busy but happy day in my new position at work. But when that relationship ended, I found myself in personal crisis. The peace and happiness of having made the right decision about the mission had worn off. Wait a second, I thought, I wanted to go on that mission! What am I doing!? I finally recognized the loss of a goal I had so eagerly looked forward to and I mourned it. I was done with my bachelor’s, and the natural thing to follow in my mind had always been the mission. I still knew that I had made the right decision, but my life had been future goal-oriented for so long that I had no idea what to do without a goal.

Work became my new goal because it was there; as my life, it helped me ignore the fact that I didn’t know what I was aiming for. In a way, it became my mission as I worked with senior missionaries. When problems arose, I aimed to not give up until I had overcome the challenges. However, the job always felt temporary. And when it got to the point that I realized some problems can never be overcome, I poured my soul into finishing everything I started, which took a few excruciating months when things just seemed to get worse and worse. The day my biggest project was finished, I told my boss I wasn’t coming back the next day. We both mourned, but I needed to move on. I needed to deal with this lack of goals and find some meaning.

The next few months were some of the hardest in my life. I took a short-term job only to reject it five days later; I needed time to myself, time to recuperate, time to lay in the sunlight and do nothing. I read and pondered and slept a lot. I practiced the piano more than I had in years. My spotty jogging habit became an intense outlet for my stress. I would run as hard as I could and cry as hard as I could. I knew that I needed to get away, that I needed a new beginning.

I began looking, though one thing held me back: my jogging had brought me regularly to visit my grandpa, with whom I now had a strong relationship. I could see myself in his life. Somewhere between getting married and retiring, he had turned into a strict, grumpy person, during which time I was born. I got to know him in this phase, and I stayed away from him because of it, calling him “Grumpy” instead of “Grandpa.” After his retirement and during the sickness and death of my grandmother, something happened that no one in the family could explain. “Grumpy” became “Grandpa.” He was softened somehow. Still a stubborn individual, he loved people more than he had ever shown before. Generous to all organizations, regular studier of the gospel, a new lover of Mormon romance novels, this grandpa was one I had never known. He would invite me to watch movies with him, eat breakfast at his house, accompany him to plays, and read his old books (which didn’t suit me, but which was kind of him). I saw that it was possible to change for the better and that my situation wasn’t hopeless. I rejoiced when I could help him by weeding his garden while he wasn’t home, or by putting clean sheets on his bed. With his health getting worse, I knew I needed to spend as much time with him as possible.

Grandpa had decided to take the whole family on a cruise, which I wasn’t going to miss out on. I felt like it was the last big thing I could do for my grandpa, to be there for the present that had excited him for months. There were days when I thought I would have to leave before the cruise or I would die, but I didn’t know where I should go anyway. Mini trips temporarily satisfied my wanderlust and acted as therapy: I rock climbed in Moab, river rafted through Idaho, Oregon, and Washington, hiked into the Grand Canyon, and drove through Costa Rica.

I began to revive the old idea that I was going places and I was excited by the possibilities. I updated my resume and filled out applications. When I was accepted to two universities in Germany, I couldn’t believe my luck. The two oldest universities (nearly 600 years old) in Germany wanted me! I could combine so many interests: German, traveling, a Master’s Degree, the study of literature, etc. During the cruise, I announced my intention to move to Germany. Grandpa hugged me and told me he was proud of me, but he got teary-eyed when he said he would miss me. With his well wishes, and the knowledge of his love, I could move on.

I booked the flight to Leipzig and included weeks in Boston, Manchester, and London along the way. Leipzig was an unknown city with unknown people, but so were Boston and London, and they both ended up being wonderful experiences where I met many people and saw enough sights to make me love both cities. A new friend in Boston said she felt like it was meant to be that we met. She told me that her first semester away from her family was the hardest, that she had to learn that when no one else is there, God is. When I finally arrived in Leipzig, I was eager to take on the challenge of a new city, a new church congregation, a new language, a new school, new friends.

Amazingly, it hasn’t been hard. I immediately loved the city and everything about it upon arrival. I now understand the trials of life in new ways. I have built my trust in God more than ever before and have been showered with blessings, among which I count the fact that homesickness has never been a problem. I have re-learned that friends are to be found everywhere, that there is always a reason to smile and laugh, that I can accomplish anything because of my faith. My involvement at church has kept me sane; it is something I can always rely on and put my energy into when other things are frustrating.

I can see that a lot of satisfaction in my life has been and is based on being able to work towards a clear goal. Looking forward, I fear the day that I will be done with institutional education. There may be further goals to carry me on, but will I some day become bored with my role either in a job or in a family of my own? In other words, the success that all of my life has lead up to doesn’t sound satisfying. It sounds rather fearful to settle down in the way acceptable to society. Setting “die happy and faithful surrounded by family” as a goal seems too far-off and vague. I yearn for something concrete. I yearn for new experiences and cultures. I fear my way of assessing progress will bring me down if that want isn’t met. However, looking backward, I know that each step in my life was guided. The Lord was telling me that if I wanted to go places, I would go places with Him. And now I need to find the faith and trust to know that He knows best, that he wants me to be happy, and that He will continue to take me places.

Weather Today

How curious, the four cities I have on my iGoogle weather are more similar to faraway cities today than closer ones:

Leipzig, SN

21°C
Bewölkt
Wind: NW mit Windgeschwindigkeiten von 16 km/h
Feuchtigkeit: 56%

Heute

Salt Lake Stadt, UT

21°C
Klar
Wind: O mit Windgeschwindigkeiten von 0 km/h
Feuchtigkeit: 40%

Heute

Boston, MA

23°C
Bewölkt
Wind: SO mit Windgeschwindigkeiten von 8 km/h
Feuchtigkeit: 95%

Heute

Zürich

23°C
Bewölkt
Wind: O mit Windgeschwindigkeiten von 10 km/h
Feuchtigkeit: 65%

Heute

Mad Magazine Boy

In Boston I met a nice guy who looked familiar. Tiffany mentioned it to him and he said, "Yes, it's Alfred Neuman, the Mad Magazine boy." We realized it was true and that he was handsome even though he looked boyish.

Now, looking at James Viner, he looks even more like the boy. I showed Marie the picture. She agreed, even as James's mother. You judge.

ICA and MIT and Stuff

The two coolest things I did today involved the ICA (Institute of Contemporary Arts) and the MIT Museum (Massachusetts Institute of Technology).

The first is right on the ocean and can only be explained by this cool picture:


My feet are numb and sore, especially where the right flip-flop rubbed all day. For only having two main destinations, I did way too much walking, but I wanted Laura (the second Laura from England) to see some neat places before she left to return to New York (and hopefully not lose her passport again).

I discovered as I checked out of the first hostel today that there was a piano there. Sure, it was old and warped, out of tune, and half the keys didn't work, but my fingers wanted to tickle the keys a little. This guy saw me fingering the keys and said, "Well, let's hear something." I played a little bit, but I wish I had brought a copy of The Minute Waltz, because the YWCA also has a piano, and it's a lot nicer. I can play most of it by memory, but not when I'm feeling pressured by surrounding strangers.

The second main destination today seemed to be way out of the way, and we hurried to get there before it closed at 5. At 4:35, we rushed in to have the man at the desk tell us we could just go in for the last 25 minutes.


The display that Laura really wanted to see was Arthur Ganson's works. He is a mechanical engineer slash artist. He builds mechanisms that move and look cool. Here are some of his things (looks like I'm stuck with photos in the hamburger direction unless someone can help me out here):


We also saw Harold Edgerton's work in photographing things in motion. Look him up and make sure you see his photo of the golf swing and the liquid dropping.

There was a display of holograms. My favorite was one where a lady starts out giving you a mischievous look, and as you walk to the right, she blows you a kiss and winks. I said to Laura, "What is a hologram anyway?" Then we turned around and saw a sign that said, "What is a hologram?" Yeah, the explanation didn't help me. Here's a video:



I ended up going to Cambridge's Mr. Bartley's Famous Burgers (or something like that) for dinner after Laura left. They have burgers named after politicians and celebrities who have been there. The waiters and waitresses yell the orders over the counter, "I need anotha Nancy Pelosi and a Dick Cheney." Ha ha ha. I didn't notice until after I ordered the Ken Reeves turkey sandwich that the place was voted one of the best burger places in the U.S. by U.S. News or something. Whoops. I had way too much left over, so I should have gone somewhere cheaper anyway. I gave my fries to a guy begging for change. I thought about it before I left, and when he asked I was ready for it. He had me just put the fries in his hands. Too bad I didn't have a napkin. I don't think he cared, though.

Yay for Boston's public transpo. It is so easy and wonderful. I told Alana about the lameness of Salt Lake City's public transpo--how everyone just wants their own car, leaving no option for those who can't afford them or who are advocates of mass transit.

So somehow I ended up with a sample-sized tube of toothpaste in Salt Lake, so I decided to bring just that so airport security wouldn't take it away. I'm a Crest toothpaste snob. I can't stand Colgate as it makes my tongue go numb. Anyway, I thought it would be fine, seeing as how it was Crest. But I didn't realize it was CINNAMON! BLECH! Don't you think if you were Crest and you made cinnamon-flavored toothpaste that you would at least change the tube to red instead of blue? I hate cinnamon to begin with, even to the point of not enjoying cinnamon rolls as much as other people. I refuse to chew cinnamon gum. Who decided that they'd make gum a flavor that makes your breath smell bad? Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose? So, brushing my teeth has not been a pleasure like it has been for the last 22 years. I've looked for mint-flavored Crest sample-size toothpaste, but I haven't seen any yet.

How I Travel Alone Part II

Oh, and sometimes when I only have a few things to say to people in public places, I fake the accent.

In Boston: "What variety ah theeese?"

In London: "Ah phoutagrahphs allowed in theh?"