So, this one time, I went on a cruise with family It was fun. I was even proposed to by a 45 year old married man that wanted a one-way ticket out of his country! Here are some pictures.

This is Miami from the view of my balcony.














This is my boat. Isn't she huge? I lived on the third level from the top. It was convenient.













This is the most beautiful place I've ever been to. Magen's Bay in St. Thomas. I want to live here, forever. Michael Jordan lives in one of the houses on the top of the hill to the right. Maybe he wants a new roommate?

Ok, so here are a few updates:

That One Kid and I ended up getting back together. I'm having issues sorting out my feelings right now, though. I deeply care about him but something seems missing for me right now. I think it may be that I haven't seen him in awhile and I just miss him. Again, I'm not quite sure what's really going on. Hopefully I'll figure it out...

Work is going really well. We are approaching the nasty Christmas season so I'm a bit annoyed with all of humanity, but I'll assume that it'll get worse before it gets better so I'm going to smile my way through this nasty season of commercialization. Or go into an irrational rage of doom. Whichever. ;)

In just eleven days I'll be on a boat in the Caribbean. Things I'm excited for? That.

I just made the best brownies, ever.

I'm happy. Really... Well, maybe if I keep reminding myself of that I actually will be.

[/emo]

*Ahem!*

GO RED SOX! Beat those Rockies! Yeah! Make me proud, boys!
(And look, AtP, no extraneous exclimation points! Aren't you proud?)

So, this one time, I was broken up with. I'll keep it at that since I am writing things on the interwebs, but suffice it to say that we are still friends and all is well between us.

So, I have some awesome friends here in my ward. I have people that I can ask to give me blessings, that will talk when I need a friend, and just be overall awesome. I'm grateful for them.

I'm not currently in a "writing lots of things down so that I seem super cool and literate" but I'm just not feeling much of that right now. Everything I write seems trite and unimportant, so until I feel the need to write something of substance, I'll keep these puppies brief.

I need a hug.

This just in from Apartment 6...

***I'm dating someone in my ward. Wow! His name is... well, you'll just have to ask. Things are going really well and I care about him deeply.

***My roommates are amazing! We all get along very well and it's crazy. My one new roommate is a geography/urban planning major and she fills in the Chad void quite well. Except that she's a girl... and not named Chad.

***I got released from my calling on Sunday. I'm still sad about it, but I'm sure I'll be put to work soon. Ward greeter, here I come!

Yeah, that's about all. More to come soon. Promise.

My friends are some of the most amazing people on the planet.

Thank you.

OK, so my camera phone's quality isn't very good. I admit that. But look at the view on top of Rock Canyon! Isn't it beautiful?! I think so.

Also, thanks to one Hacksaw Harrison, I have a new nickname. Jen "Pite" . What does Pite mean? Apparently, it's an acronym for Pencil In The Eye. Yup, I'm just that violent. I'm thinking of asking him to reconsider it... I'm not sure my reputation is up for that level of amazingness. However, it is quite hilarious.

Ahh, what's a girl to do?

As many of you know, I work as a supervisor at Your Local Inspirational Bookstore and I, for the most part, love it. Sometimes, usually when I most need the pick up, someone comes in that says exactly what I need to hear at that moment. Today's was special. Here's a story that goes along with it.

I was helping this elderly woman to find a few books she was looking for when she asked me if we had a book about Sister Hinckley's life. I said we did and directed her to Glimpses, the story of her life. It's a sweet book and we talked about it for awhile. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, "I wish I was as wise as Sister Hinckley." I stood quiet for a moment and with tears in my own eyes told her that I knew she was wise and beautiful. She smiled and put her hand on my shoulder and we stood for a moment. She told me something that she liked about Sister Hinckley and then I countered. I relayed the following quote and then walked her to the register to check out. She really is a sweet, wise, woman and I hope I get to see her again soon.

"I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car wearing beautifully tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails. I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to Scout Camp. I want to be there with grass stains on my shoes from mowing Sister Schenk's lawn. I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbor's children. I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping weed someone's garden. I want to be there with children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder. I want the Lord to know I was really here and I really lived." ~ Marjorie Pay Hinckley

Isn't that beautiful? I want to live my life in the same way. Thank you Sister Hinckley for being such an inspiration, and thank you to my wise and beautiful customer that helped me remember the kind of person I want to be.

Lance Bass is going to be in Hairspray on Broadway from August to January. I smell a trip to NYC.

Wanna come?

So, this one time, I was swimming in the pool with some friends. We were playing innocent, yet stupid, pool games such as: King of the Hill, Marco Polo, and my personal favorite, Knock the Girl Out of the Tube. We were enjoying ourselves, getting a nice tan (don't tell Petra), and all of a sudden one of the boys decided that he didn't like me anymore* so he jabbed me in the ribs as hard as he could, thereby damaging me forever.**

Now, the purpose of this post isn't to rag on the poor kid that hurt me and caused me to go to the doctor or to make everyone feel sorry for me because I was an innocent victim. No, that's not the purpose. The real purpose is to talk about the adventures I've been on since this happened almost two weeks ago.

Let's see. Adventures.

dimmi (small d) and I started taking a spinning/cycling class at the gym. Today was our first class and boy, was that fun! No, really, it was! I thought I was going to die after the first ten minutes, but I liked it. I want to do it again. In fact, we are going to every Tuesday and Thursday until we go to China***. However, my ribs decided that they would stop working after about thirty-five minutes and spent the other ten screaming in agony. I didn't listen to them, however. That would have been impractical.

I go swimming as often as possible and still love playing my favorite pool games, but now I tend to stay in the shallow end of the pool. It's easier that way because I've been practicing my back stroke. I told a kid in my ward that I love swimming and he didn't believe me because I can't do a good backstroke (or front stroke, or butterfly, or, well anything). And let me tell you, my ribs love the exercise. After every swimming adventure, I have the opportunity to take more medicine and sleep for a long period of time. Yes!

And, lastly, I've been having all kinds of fun at work. My latest, and favorite, work time activity is unloading the boxes of new product at work. Each box is between nine and fifty pounds and I get to pick them up, input some information in the computer, and then put everything on new carts and bring them out to the sales floor so that everyone (including myself) can put that new product on the shelves. It's pretty fun.

So, those are my latest adventures. Pretty sweet, huh? My next adventures, as soon as I find people to do them with me, are going to be floating down the mighty Provo river and climbing (the hard way) up Bridal Veil Falls. Everyone is invited, just let me know.


*Not true. It was an accident.
**I'll recover in 3-4 weeks. Or so they say.
***Next October. Not this October, but the next one.

I don't know if I've mentioned how amazing my family is lately, but here's some proof. In December, my parents are paying for me to embark on a 7 day cruise to the Caribbean. Here's my itinerary (after much ado):

December 1: Fly to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida to stay with my aunt for the night.
December 2: Fly to Miami to embark on the Carnival Valor with my family.
December 3: Arrive at, and play in, the Bahamas.
December 4: Have a fun day at sea.
December 5: Arrive at, and play in, St. Thomas.
December 6: Arrive at, and play in, St. Maartin.
December 7: Have a fun day at sea.
December 8: Have a fun day at sea.
December 9: Arrive back to Miami.
December 10: Fly back to Utah.

All in all, it sounds like a pretty fun trip. I'm excited because I've already been to St. Thomas and the Bahamas so I can cross them off of my list of places I have to visit again, so that's good. (Someday I'll blog about that, I'm sure. It's pretty interesting.)

I'm going on a cruise with my family in December! Details and itinerary to follow!

It's 3 am. I've been cleaning since 10pm.

I'm not done yet...

Also, I can't decide whether or not I want to scream or cry or fall over in my little bed and sleep til noon.

Wait. I know that answer to that one. I pick the sleep one... in like 2 hours.

So, there's this guy in my ward that I've had a crush on all year. He graduates in April and then I'll probably never see him again.

So I told him that I liked him by love note today.

I thought to myself, "Why not?! He leaves in 3.5 weeks, we are friends, and if he ends up getting scared, I won't see him ever again. If he doesn't get scared and actually does something, we can figure that out later." So I wrote the note, showed it to a friend to make sure it wasn't too awkward, and put it in the little bucket thing. And it was sent.

What is it about the end of the semester/school year that brings out the pent up frustrations of the past months? Why do we wait until the options are 'work it out' or 'never see you again'? Why didn't I acknowledge these "feelings" (I put that in quotes because I'm not sure I have actual feelings for him... I just know that I'd like to get to know him better. And I'd like to kiss him, because I like kissing...) when I first had them? Why did I wait for the last ward date of the year, the one that he can't go on, to talk to him about this? And why am I such a stinking coward?

I remember this one time I had a huge crush on [insert board writers name here]. HUGE. I recall how I never did anything about it, except maybe try to sit next to him at movie night or invite him over to watch a movie that I hadn't ever seen, but nothing ... specific. Nothing that would make him know that I liked him. Why? Well, besides being a super coward, I knew that since we had the same set of friends, it could get awkward, ridiculously awkward, and I was scared. Of course now that the semester is over, and summer is coming, and I'm pretty sure I won't see him for months (I actually haven't seen him in months, anyway) I want to say something even if it was in the past and I've almost moved on.

Almost. But I'm a coward so I'll put it on my blog and wait for him to eventually read it and laugh when he figures it out and never talks to me again. (What can I say? I rock the awkward moments!)

Anyway, the point to all that? That I'm a coward and deep down, I want to be the damsel that waits patiently for her prince to come and rescue her from her tower of singleness, but at my age? Hah. I need to find my own way out of the castle - or I'm never leaving.

Also, I hope that guy in my ward takes my note well and doesn't freak out. We'd be so cute! *girly giggle*

So I've been hearing a lot about finding a husband, lately. Granted, at my age, I should have already found that "special" someone, but I had no idea how pressing this subject is. A friend of mine mentioned wanting to find her "knight in shining armor" and something kind of ... odd ... came to me.

I don't want my knight to have shining armor. How boring.

What?! As I thought about it a bit more (ridiculous doses of Lortab will do that to you, trust me), I figured it out. Shining armor could mean a few things, none of which are desirable.

1. If he shines his armor, he has nothing better to do, apparently. And, honestly, what good is someone that has nothing better to do than sit at home being vane? I'd prefer to meet someone that has something to do and is willing to go and, oh you know, do it.

2. If he does have someone shining his armor for him, that means that he paid someone else to do it for him. Thus comes the issues of finances. How did he get the money to pay someone to shine his armor? Did he go out and get a job and spend hours and hours doing early morning custodial work on campus to squander it on something so superfluous as armor? Doesn't he have something more important to spend his money on? Or, what if he is a trust fund boy that doesn't need to work hard and can just buy whatever he wants and doesn't understand the value of a hard days work? Hmm? What then?!

3. He's so new to knighthood that his armor doesn't need to shined. This is the most obvious one. I'm getting older and older and if my knight is so new that his armor hasn't been shined, that's not good. I don't need to meet any knights that are new to battle, I need to meet a seasoned warrior that knows the battleground and can handle the battle.

See? These are serious issues that come to mind when I hear the phrase "knight in shining armor". I think, actually, that I'd rather have a knight that has slightly rusty, a bit holey, armor. Then, at least, my only issue would be trying to help him fix his armor. That'd be fun.

Things that are fun:

having your mom come visit you from Connecticut.

Things that aren't fun:

having your gallbladder taken out.

More later, I promise.

The Top 5 Ways to Keep Your Cashier Happy*:
By: SkyBluePink

PLEASE:

1. When you get to the counter, please turn off your cell phones. I don't care about what Great-Aunt-Gertie had for dinner last night. Really. And don't get mad at me when I ignore you and help the customer behind you because you weren't paying attention to me when I said hello and started to ring up your merchandise.

2. Yup, I'm going to ask you to apply for a credit card if you don't have one. Every. Single. Time. Don't yell at me, please. It's required by law. Honest.

3. Keep your receipts, people. We give them to you for a reason.

4. To answer your questions:
a.I like my job (sometimes).
b.Yup, I'm working hard.
c.Yeah, this job is to get me through school/on a mission/and for vacation. Whatever YOU want it to be, sir. Really.

5. If you want to know the price, go over to that handy little display that says "PRICE CHECK" (or something like that) on it.

6. If all of the tool experts are busy helping other customers, please stand patiently at the counter until one arrives. Don't roll your eyes at me, don't yell at me, don't start pacing around by the tool chests. Either stand there nicely or feel free to walk around the surrounding area. Please, do NOT go over to lawn and garden or vacuums until he or she comes to get you. They will come. And when they do, I guarantee they will be nicer to you if you've been nice to me.

I wrote this when I worked at Sears. Funny how things kind of change when you actually like your job.

I am not jealous of her. I am not jealous of her. I am not jealous of her.

Screw that, yes I am. Will I ever be good enough?

So, the other day I went out with AtP to the mall so he could buy a few things that he "needed" and while we were browsing around Buckle (or, he was browsing, I was following him around holding things) he asked me how I was doing. It took me a few minutes and then I realized that I didn't really know. Or, on some level that I was unaware at the time, I didn't want to tell him. I'm trying, very hard, to figure out why I clammed up that day. Do I still adore him as much as usual? Yes. Is he still a good friend of mine? Yes. Do I trust him? Yes.

Do I trust anyone else in my life? Hell no. (Well, that's not completely true. I trust RHB, his roommate, my roommates and two other people that live here in the apartment complex.)

Aha, the culprit. Trust. Why? This may take awhile, please sit down.

So I had this friend once, her name was Del* and we worked together for the man in 2002 here in Provo. We became quick friends (mostly because she was competent and I respected her for that) through our note-writing adventures. We'd write down anything that was bothering us, that we questioned, that we cared about, ANYTHING, and then we handed the note off and waited for a response, feeling a bit more relieved that someone else could help fix a solution or share in a great moment. At first, they were superficial notes, "Oh my goodness. That new cashier guy is hot!" or, "My roommates and I are fighting because she left the toilet seat up." and gradually they became more in depth. "You should go on vacation with me, I'm worried about my family," etc. It took a few months, but finally we realized that we could say anything and it wouldn't go anywhere. I'd take what she'd tell me and keep it to myself and she would do the same. It was amazing. Because of that, I learned about her engagement before everyone else, she learned about my family situation and we were good friends. I trusted her. I guess I, falsely, assumed that everyone was like that and, since I've been back here, realized that it's not true. People like to talk... and it drives me insane.

(Granted, I shouldn't talk. I'm the one that blew that one kid's cover about the NSync marionette's because I was so excited that he actually knew what Lance was. And we all know how obsessed with Lance I was, er ..., am.)

But, am I crazy in assuming that when I tell someone about my crappy, traumatic, weekend, that I expect it to stay between us. Or when I'm so excited because the kid has the other four dolls and that proves we are soul mates, or that my roommate is getting married 2 months early and I get to go to the sealing, that what I'll tell someone will stay between us and not be broadcast to the world/ward? That they won't go telling others? And, granted, I'm not really complaining about one or two people in general. I'm not complaining at all. (And at this hour, I'm totally not making sense.) I just learned my lesson the hard way. Stuff got back to me. People were rude. Stuff was done that I didn't approve of.

So, what's my solution to this? To keep quiet. To feign a sense of perfection so no one will tell what's really going on to those around me. And what sucks is when a friend, a true friend, that hasn't really screwed you over asks you how you are, you have to still lie. Because that's when you are most in control.

And control, I've learned, is totally where it's "at". You don't get screwed if you are in control. Right.

Big blog post coming. Huge. Super ginormous. Like, so large it's going to take over the planet.

I know.

And I am so not exaggerating. ;)

So I went with Robert Poste to watch him perform his yo-yo routine with dimmi, and Brooklyn on Friday night. When Brooklyn and Robert Poste showed up at dimmi's to pick us up, we talked about how we were all doing. I mentioned being "super fantastic" with the reasoning being that nothing bad had happened to me lately and, naturally, nothing bad equals good. Yes, my logic was faulty (when is it not?) and I've sense learned to never say those words again. I am a foolish, foolish girl.

What follows is a list of everything that has gone wrong in the past 24 hours. Please laugh. I am.

1. RP did an amazing job with his yo-yo-ing and the BYU gymnastics team was also impressive with their slaughter over Texas Woman's (heh) University. So, the funny part. I was getting out of the car and came upon a piece of ice and because I was wearing skating shoes, Etnies to be exact and being that skating shoes have no traction, I fell. Hard. Thankfully, I landed on my bum and I was spared a very awkward broken bone. I am very grateful for that. I spent the rest of my night adjusting in my chair so that I would be comfortable. I'm still sore, but it'll get better quick.
2. I had a 7 a.m meeting for work today. My co-worker called Friday night and offered me a ride because she didn't want me to have to walk in the snow and be cold. She said that she would be outside of my apartment at 6:45. I woke up on time, got dressed, and went outside to discover that it was snowing and I was not wearing good shoes. (Again. Someone go with me to buy some boots, this is getting ridiculous!) So I waited out in the cold snow for 45 minutes for her to come. 45 minutes! It was, what, 5 degrees this morning? Yeah. Anyway, we didn't arrive at the meeting until 7:30 and my store manager was mad. VERY mad. Turns out her alarm didn't go off and she was woken up by the store manager asking where she was. He ended up forgiving me because it wasn't my fault, but I still don't think I've warmed up. But, it's OK because she realized her mistake, and apologized, and when someone genuinely apologizes, I have to forgive them. I assume I'll warm up sometime around July. We'll have a party that day, OK?
3. I was waiting outside of my store for the bus to arrive at 7:20 tonight. I waited. And waited. It was late. So, I kept waiting and it finally showed up and ... kept going. It didn't see me until it was 20 or more feet away so I had to run, in the snow, to catch it. I did. I was happy. No problem there. Yet. So, we finally arrive and and what happened? I go to get off and I slipped and fell, in front of many people, and landed on my knee. Hard. There were a bunch of people that were on that bus that saw me wipe out. Bunches! I had to pretend that nothing was wrong and just got off the bus as quickly as I could. Now, I have a limp and it is swollen and I couldn't go to Optimistic.'s birthday party because I didn't have the energy to 1) walk there or 2) call and see if anyone wanted to pick me up.
   

I did have a good night though, even though I missed the party of a good friend. We started apartment prayer tonight. My roommate and I watched "The Importance of Being Ernest". We went to a "dance party" where I learned to "salsa" with a cute boy. So, I guess in the end, I'm still "super fantastic" even though I've gotten hurt, frozen, and humiliated in front of strangers in the last twenty-four hours. I have friends. I have awesome roommates. My life is good.

Even when I have more bruises than I can count.

It seems that everyone in Blogland is writing reflective "year in review" posts. I'm debating whether or not I want to join the party and conform to this yearly trend.

Oh, why not. Everyone else is doing it.

2006 - cryptically.

Turned 26.
Moved to Utah.
New Job.
Promotions.
New friends.
Old friends.
Decided against a mission.
IMN and the people involved.
Dinner parties.
Roommates.
Moving apartments.
Understanding.
Growth.

I hope 2007 includes some of 2006's happiness and adds much more.