A Little-Known Fact About Me:

I hate thunder.

El Colegio

School started yesterday.  My first day consisted of back-to-back literature classes, a lovely introduction to Spanish (even though I took it in junior high), and woodwind ensemble.  I'm unbelievably excited for literature--see?  I highly doubt you believe that--even though I can't even begin to imagine how hard it's going to be.  A foreign language is required for my degree, so it doesn't really matter how I feel about that (or about the fact that this otherwise wonderful university DOESN'T OFFER ITALIAN).  Woodwind ensemble is a desperate attempt to hang on to my flute skills and hopefully be accepted into a group of high-class musicians even though I'm not a music major.



Today I have another lit class and more Spanish.

Another oh-so-fun aspect of starting another year of school is job hunting.  I've now put together what I hope is a thoroughly gripping resume, two cover letters, and lots of applications.  Honestly, my biggest motivation for getting a job is that I need a laptop and I can't afford one right now.  But hey, whatever works, right?

No, I don't have anything better to do than talk about my schedule.  My apartment doesn't have cable or a DVD player.  So there.

My Testimony

Last week was Fast Sunday (the first Sunday of every month).  Every Fast Sunday, LDS church members get the opportunity to bear our testimonies in order to strengthen our own and others' faith.  I've always had a hard time talking in front of people, so naturally I don't take the chance as often as I should (or ever...) and it always bothers me.  So I'm going to use the power of the written word to share what I believe with you.

Growing Up

My very first memory is the first time I got stung by a bee.  I was sitting by our flower bed in the front yard of our gray two-story house, and wandering among the petunias was a strange small creature with pretty black and yellow stripes.  I stared at it in fascination.  I remember reaching out to touch it--it looked fuzzy--and the next thing I remember is blinding pain.  I can't remember which finger was stung, but I was horrified at the red dot on it as my mom held me and calmed me down.  One of her friends was there.