Practically Perfect...

So I gave blood today.

The high school was hosting a blood drive, and having been the girl who asks everyone to donate and no one does, I thought I would sign up.

I now have a Donor card from CT and from UT, but neither of them works in MA, so I will soon have one here too. Apparently you have to get a new donor card for every state you donate in...

Anyway. I also didn't have my license with me; I had my "21 and under" license, but the lady said that would be fine.

(Side note: I was actually surprised at the lack of organization and student leadership; CHS blood drives were much more strict)

So I sat down for my little pre-screening and she took my temperature and said, "Wow, perfect! 98.6!"

Pulse: 60 bpm "A perfect one beat per second!"
Hemoglobin: 14.5 (range 12-16)
Blood Pressure: 108/58

She got done and said, "Wow, everything is just perfect!"

So. I'm perfectly healthy right now and I donated in 6 minutes. And, there are 3 people out there who will get my perfectly healthy blood in the next little while. Go me!

Extra! Extra!

Mollie's tummy does not feel nice.

I mean, I ate some pancakes about 4 hours ago and they didn't come back up yet, so that's good. Hopefully I feel better by morning... I'm supposed to go to work and meet with some students.

Update 11/9: I am feeling better. My tummy is still a little unsettled, but I went to work and ate normal things, so I think I'm ok...

Halloweeeeen

p.s.- On Halloween, I was all excited to get trick-or-treaters. I rushed home from work, and realized I hadn't carved my pumpkin. Janna and I went to buy pumpkins last week, and since we bought them at the grocery store (lame compared to picking your own), and they all cost a flat fee, I decided I would buy the biggest one I could carry. (It's big- you just can't really tell in the picture)

I quickly carved it and put it out. I was a little disappointed with how my Mickey turned out, but I guess for carving it without a pattern in an hour, it didn't come out too bad.

And we got FIVE trick-or-treaters!!! We had like... 8 bags of candy! So now we're just eating candy all the time.

Here are the pictures of my pumpkin, and my fingernails, which I painted for the occasion (it lasted one full day).

Weekend Update(s)

Ok, ok, I know it's been a while since I've posted. But I am happy to report there are officially only FOUR WEEKS LEFT in this semester, and then, ladies and gentlemen, I will be entering my very last semester of school ever! In my defense (of not posting), I usually post on weekends, and the weekends for the past couple months have been a little crazy...

As illustrated:

[Sept. 3, 4, 5]
Drive car back from CT, go camping with Anne. This is when I cut my finger. We spent 30 minutes trying to start a fire because my little torch wouldn't start. I tried to cut kindling, but all I had was an Exacto knife, with which I promptly sliced my pinky. Anne had to go to the camp store and buy band-aids. On the 5th, we went to the beach and drove through some small MA towns. (Anne has pictures...)

[Sept. 9, 10, 11]
On Friday Sept. 9 I had to go through the fiasco with my car window getting broken. On Saturday, there was a Young single adult temple conference at the building in Belmont. Then we (Anne and I) watched a movie. On the 11th, I went to a 9/11 tribute concert in Sanders' Theatre- it was a little weird, actually, and I didn't think they could really go wrong with a 9/11 tribute.

[Sept. 16, 17, 18]
On the 16th, Anne came over and we ordered Chinese food, went to Waltham to watch fireworks for their "Old Home Days" or some such celebration, and watched sex. ed. videos from the 1950s-- (it's a long story. I had to help my supervisor plan curriculum...)

On the 17 and 18th, there was a "Retreat" with my supervisor and the peer counselors he teaches. We went to an island and stayed in dorms, did activities and games, ate food, stayed up late, and did a ropes course the next day. This was my first experience really getting to know the kids, and it was good... I guess.

[Sept. 24, 25]
I went for lunch with Mike and Tina while they were here, then I went to the "Fluff Festival" in Union Square (the festival devoted to marshmellow fluff)with my roommate. Then I went for ice cream with a couple of girls from church before the RS broadcast.

[Oct. 1, 2]
Sean (one of my friends from BYU) came up from NYC (where he's going to med. school) and visited. We (Sean, me, my roommate Janna and my friend Anne) went to the Big E, which, for those of you unacquainted, is a gigantic fair for all the New England states. We ate lots of junk-- including: kettle corn, corn chowder, deep fried cheesecake, deep fried oreos, deep fried kool-aid, deep fried snickers' bar, 18" corn dog, blueberry pie, macaroni and cheese, chocolate covered bacon, apple cider donuts, corn on the cob, hot chocolate, and cotton candy. I think that's everything! (Pictures are on fb. Maybe I'll get ambitious and put some on here...)

On the 2nd, I went to Anne's and ate dinner/watched conference with her and our friend Sarah.

[Oct. 8, 9]
Anne talked me into going to a cranberry festival down near the Cape. It was a quaint little place, where they had little wagon rides for kids, pony rides (I talked the people into letting me go... yes, I did.), and food (the best cider donut I've ever had!!!). They also had a bus that took you out to see the cranberry bogs. Two of them were flooded for harvesting, so we got to see this gigantic vacuum-type thing suck up all the cranberries and dump them into a great big truck. There were guys wading in the water, and guys driving tractors in the bogs to pop off the berries. And of course, all sorts of cranberry food products. It was pretty cool. I have one low-quality picture on my phone, but that's it...

Then we went to Ruth's to help her run errands, and then we went to Anne's and ate diner and watched The Sandlot.

On the 9th, we had an open house church service with the Quakers. You see, there is a Quaker church across the street from ours. They helped take our stuff out of our building when it burned. They wanted to "welcome the Mormons back to the neighborhood", so they organized an open house and invited the residents of the neighborhood. They sent people to teach us about them during our Sunday School hour and we sent people to teach them about us, and then they provided a pot-luck lunch/dessert on the lawn between the two buildings, both churches had a leader speak briefly (on a sound system) and tours were given of both buildings. The whole thing was so friendly, and they were very hospitable and we had fun.

Then Anne and Sarah came over, we made dinner, and then watched October Sky. I love that movie, and we had talked about watching it during October, of course. I used to do this with a couple friends at BYU, so this was fun.

[Oct. 14, 15, 16]
On Oct. 14, Harvard hosted their 375th birthday party. It was ridiculous. There was dinner at the Ed. School before hand, with chili, and mac-and-cheese, and stuff. It was pretty good. Then we (my roommate and a friend) went into the yard for the party. Yo-Yo Ma was supposed to play, so I was super excited because he was playing with the BSO that week, but I couldn't get tickets (because they were $35/person). They had people dressed as trees and acting like statues. They had a guy they hired to look like the John Harvard statue. They had "heirloom apples" that were available in the 1600s, cider, a chocolate fountain bar, a 2500 lb. red velvet birthday cake, chocolate truffles, ice cream, a light show, a parade, dancers, choirs, a photobooth, and all sorts of other ridiculous over-the-top free stuff. It was really great... except that it was absolutely pouring. So it was miserable.

We lasted about an hour, and then we heard the cake wasn't being cut for another hour, and Yo-Yo Ma wasn't supposed to play for another hour and a half. I tried to hold my enthusiasm for as long as possible, but finally, I was wet, and stuck shoulder-to-shoulder with thousands of other people, and stuck in the back with one too many umbrellas, and we decided to bail. But you couldn't move, because there were so many people and so much mud. It was kind of nasty. Finally, we made it back to my car, which was parked at the school I work at. We had to walk through a puddle that was seriously almost up to the top of my rain boots... it was crazy.

We came home, warmed up, changed clothes, and watched "Steel Magnolias" while listening to the rain. I was a little sad because it would have been a great party if the weather was nice...

On Saturday, Anne's sister was visiting from CA, and she wanted to show her a good New England-y time. So we went to Maine and saw a bunch of light houses and then ate dinner in downtown Portland (I think). It was fun. (Pictures below).





[Oct. 21, 22, 23]
On Friday night, the school I work at was hosting a "Cabaret Night" where any student who is in private vocal lessons can volunteer to sing a song from musical theatre. I took Anne with me because a couple of my students were performing, my supervisor was accompanying them, and I happen to like musicals. It was really fun.

On Saturday and Sunday, the Head of the Charles Regatta was happening. There was also an education conference in Boston for young single adults, that Anne and I boycotted after hearing the agenda (long story). So we went to breakfast and then went to watch the regatta for a while. We met up again later in the evening and ate dinner downtown, which was fun.

On the 23rd, we went to Mount Auburn cemetery (pictures below) to see the trees. They were less impressive than we were hoping.







[Oct. 28, 29, 30]
Well, on Friday, I went to Danvers to a corn maze with some people from the ward. There was cider and a bonfire, but the actual maze was a little disappointing. Then we ate at The Cheesecake Factory. (Also, my new niece was born!!!)

On Saturday, Anne and I hung around and made Halloween treats and then went to Stake Conference. It was snowing and miserably windy and cold. The sleet in my face on the way back to the car actually hurt. We tried to walk backwards, but you had to lean into the wind to move forward. It was crazy weather! But by Sunday we had about an inch and a half of slush, so I slugged my way to the stake center again.

So you see I've been busy!!!

And that, my friends, brings me to this weekend: Nov. 4, 5, 6
Tomorrow night I am feeding the sister missionaries and then probably going to see a movie. And on Saturday and Sunday, I am hopefully DOING NOTHING AT ALL!!!! I'm pretty excited.

Also, did I mention there are only four more week in the semester???

I'm poor!!

So I'm sitting in class (it's my child dev. class where the professor presents his own research, instead of teaching us things... oy.) and I'm just writing to report I got an email yesterday saying I was eligible for an MTEL waiver.

You see, the licensing exam for educators in MA is the MTEL (because they can't use the PRAXIS like every other place in the country) and it costs $100+ to take the dumb test.

We were told we should take it before December to make sure we pass in time to be licensed by graduation. I haven't scheduled it yet. A representative from the Career Services Office came to our class and told us about the whole thing, and also said she had some fee waivers for people who had serious financial need.

Well, I didn't really think anything of it; after all, I've never really qualified for any extra money ever. But, as I said, yesterday I got this gem of an email in my inbox that said I was eligible for a waiver and I needed to go pick up the form if I wanted to claim it. Do I want to claim it? Yes. So... fortunately, graduate school has made me poor enough to qualify for fee waivers!

I'm not really sure if I should celebrate about that, but, if I'm going to be in debt, I might as well get a free test out of it.... right?

(Also, there is a girl coughing up a lung in front of me; someone needs to tell her to go home...)

good and bad

Hello all,

Just writing to post some updates:
1) On Friday night I went to a going away party for a friend and made a pineapple cobbler (supposedly from Aunt Peggy), which was pretty good.

2) On Saturday I met Michael and Tina for lunch at a popular burger place and didn't get a burger.

3) On Saturday afternoon, I met up with my roommate and went to the Marshmallow Fluff Festival-- a whole festival just dedicated to FLUFF! There were fluffernutters, fluff cupcakes, fluff cookies, fluff pizza-- a baking contest, and more.

4) On Saturday evening, I went out for ice cream with a couple friends and then went to the RS broadcast at the stake center

5) On Sunday I read two young adult books for my adolescent lit. class.

6) On Monday I went to practicum. Things got busy real quickly, and not in a good way, so there were students in the office all day. We were essentially in crisis mode for the second half of the day. And then I went to teach a class and got put on the spot without warning and did not do a fabulous job, so by the end of the day I was just tired.

7) I had to go to work and then go to class until 8.

8) I finally got home, and went to bed early.

The one good thing about Monday was that I went to adolescent lit. and got my first paper back. I got an A. Well, that's just great. Sort of. The problem is that in the syllabus they went all extremist and said an A is given "ONLY for truly outstanding, exceptional work" and an A- is for "excellent work" and a B+ is for "very good work". So I signed up to take the class Pass/Fail because I didn't want to worry about it.

... So, I guess I'm happy I got an A, but really... it kind of annoys me when professors inflate their grading to be harder than it actually is. Now I'm going to get a Pass on my transcript instead of the A that it looks like I might earn. Meh. Oh well.

Time for a nap. Institute later.

Then Sean is visiting Boston this weekend; I'm going to the Big E!!

-mollie

Update

For those of you requesting an update from my last post (read Erin and Megan)

I went over to Bob's house with a nice warm loaf of banana bread the next morning at 10:30. Rang the bell, and after some time, the door cracked open and a very disheveled, pajama-ed, man looked at me sideways with one eye open and said, 'Oh! Uh... hi. It was a late night for me..."

Luckily I purposely planned my visit to happen about 2 minutes before I was getting picked up for a church activity, so I said something polite and ran away. Seriously. I ran away.

It was uncomfortable. All I can say is it's a good thing I didn't want my soft drink.

The Case of the Broken Window

Well hello dear readers,

I have clearly been neglecting you, and I will remedy that soon with a painfully long post about my vacation to UT, but for now, I would like to tell you how my day went.

7:30 am: Wake up to hear the landscapers working across the street. [Note: I would usually be at practicum on Fridays, but I had the day off because my supervisor was out of town. (I started there on Wednesday-- that's for another post.)]
9:00 am: Get up, take a shower, get ready to go grocery shopping.
10:00 am: Walk out to my car (which, to be clear, I brought to Boston 5 days ago. FIVE.) and notice this:



Well, ok, the hole wasn't there. That happened while I was on the phone telling mom what happened, and I closed the driver's side door and the broken glass fell out onto my flip-flopped feet. I'm pretty sure I cursed-- uh... sorry mom.

So anyway. I called mom, and then I called dad who said perhaps the landscapers threw a rock at it while they were weed-whacking. Well, that would solve the question about why they looked at me so funny when I went out there. Anyway, they had driven away and I had no way to prove it was them.

Then a 60-ish yr old man, who we'll call Bob, from the adjacent harvard-owned property came out and asked me if I was ok and what had happened. I told him I was fine; it wasn't a break-in, but my window was broken none-the-less.I told him Dad hypothesized it might have had something to do with the landscapers. Bob told me he'd call the landscaping company for me.

He did so, and said, "Hi, this is Bob. Your guys were out here today and threw a rock while they were weed-whacking that broke the window of a young lady's car. I figured you have some way to deal with that, so I'll let you talk to her." He gave me his phone. The landscaper man, whose name was Pedro, told me he'd call his workers and call me back.

I didn't think I'd hear from him again. Meanwhile Bob told me he's a professor at Harvard Medical School and then sent me an email from his phone so I would be able to contact him. He left.

Dad called back and had made an insurance claim and an appointment to get the window fixed, but I had to start driving to CT within the hour. So I started getting the car cleaned up and putting plastic over the window.

THEN, Pedro called me back and said he talked to his guys and they didn't notice it but that he was sorry and would send someone out to fix it today.

So Dad cancelled the claim and the appointment and I waited to hear from the auto-repair guy. He finally called; his name was also Pedro, and he told me they'd have someone out to fix it in a couple hours.

So I spent the rest of the day waiting for the glass guy and then I convinced my roommates to order Chinese food with me. You see, one of my friends introduced me to a Chinese food place that takes orders online. So you pick what you want, pay for it online, and then it just magically shows up at your door and you didn't even have to speak to anyone! So we ate Chinese food while the guy fixed my window.

The guy finished, took me out to look at it and roll it up and down, gave me his card, and left.I went out and washed the car to make up for the man-handling it had to endure today.

THEN, I thought I should email Bob to tell him what happened. So I wrote him an email thanking him for taking the time to call the guy and get things going (because I'm pretty sure if I had called that landscaping company, they would have said, "No way lady.") I told him I'd bring him banana bread if he gave me his apartment number.

I fully expected him to say something like, "Oh no, I'm just happy to hear that it worked out." But I got an email back from him about 10 minutes ago that said he enjoys baked goods and his "woman friend" would be visiting tomorrow and she'd "love to hear the story." And I "should stop by in the morning and join [them] for coffee or a soft-drink if [I] wish."

... Hahahahahaha. I laughed for a good thirty seconds.

So... the moral of the story is, Harvard professors have authority (and woman friends apparently); some companies are not all about denying responsibility for damages; and I made a new friend.

Now I have to find some bananas.

Blah.

So I had a busy weekend that involved a trip home, swimming, eating, unsuccessful shopping, a drive back to Boston, camping, an unfortunate finger slice, and the beach. All of that was fine and dandy.

But somewhere between the driving and the camping, I picked up a snuffy/runny nose/sneezing combo. that is making me MOST unhappy, and even more particularly disinterested in getting the school year started. I took a "cough and cold" pill that did nothing for me, and now I am worrying that I developed some unfortunate allergy overnight. Seriously-- if someone can make this go away so I don't sound like a muffled sniffler for my first full days of class and internship, I would be most appreciative, because IT SUCKS.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game!

So, as some of you know, my roommate's birthday is today, and she asked me to go to a baseball game with her to celebrate. But not just any baseball game-- because we live in Boston, how could we go anywhere besides Fenway Park, to see the big boys play?

(Note: Let it be known I have no allegiance to one team over another)

So, after I worked for the day, I met Janna in the square and we went to CVS to buy water bottles. You can't bring anything into Fenway, except "one sealed 16 oz water bottle per person." Well, apparently you can't buy anything smaller than 20 oz., which is what we did, and then we stashed them in our bags and hoped our security guys wouldn't care.

We took the T down there, and let me tell you, I am glad I don't live on the Green Line-- it is HORRENDOUS on game days. We got off at Kenmore and walked down to the park, and seriously, it was like a whole different world down there! There were mobs and mobs of people in the streets-- street vendors, ticket scalpers, and all sorts of junk food.

We found our gate and went through security, which went like this:

Security guy: Alright, let's check your bags.
(I hold my bag open)
Security guy glances in: Alright, let's keep moving.

Ok... I probably could have smuggled in a pizza and a 2 liter bottle of soda if I wanted to. I mean, I'm not complaining, but it was just annoying that they put up such a stink about bringing in outside food and stuff and they were far less intrusive than the security guys at the Boston Pops concert.

As we climbed up the stairs to our section, I told Janna I felt like I was in that scene from A League of Their Own when the girls are walking out onto the ball field for the first time with Mr. Capadino and he tells them not to eat the grass. The hall is dark and the field is bright and there's probably music swelling in the background. I have to admit- it was cool to come to the top of the stairs and see the gigantic field out there.



Of course, this is what it looked like about an hour after the game started, when the sun finally went down behind the left bleachers. The first hour was pretty brutal without sunglasses.



So I knew food at the game was going to be ridiculously expensive, and I braced myself to spend 4.50 on a hot dog. But when the guys came up and down the aisles with little bags of Cracker Jack and wanted $4.00 for it, I almost died. $4.00 for CRACKER JACK?

Well... about 30 minutes later, I had a craving for Cracker Jack. Obviously, this is what the ball park is hoping for. I had to take a potty break anyway, so I figured it would be my birthday gift to Janna since we were both moping about how expensive it was. So I got two bags and went back to my seat to eat it.

As I happily munched my popcorn, I started realizing there was a serious lack of peanuts in my bag. I asked Janna and she insisted that they were just at the bottom. I ate that whole bag and only had 9 peanuts. NINE! Lesson learned: next time smuggle in cracker jack from Market Basket for $.99 a box. At least if I only paid a dollar for it, I won't be disappointed in the lack of peanuts.

The game was fun to watch. But... I didn't expect the ball park to be loud. It was weird. When you watch baseball on TV, it's like golf. There's NO ONE talking. And when you sit out there in the stadium, it's like being in a high school cafeteria. It was weird. And then somewhere in the 5th/6th inning, David Ortiz hit a grand slam, so that was cool. And somewhere in there, we decided we needed to take a picture of ourselves.



Shortly after the "7th inning stretch" I realized that I was going to need a cake recipe to make for Janna's birthday. So I called Megan. And then realized that the 7th/8th inning is probably not the best time to be making phone calls at a major league baseball game. The crowd starts getting a little rowdy. So for most of the bottom of the 8th/top of the 9th inning, we were standing and being loud.

Of course, leaving the game is a whole 'nother thing. You gotta walk back to the T station and shuffle along like cattle, pushed up against each other, and trying not to breathe. It was gross. Luckily the crowds died out once we got to the red line to transfer.

We got home around ... 11:30 or something like that and Janna had to be at work the next morning at 4:30, so she wasn't exactly happy, or energetic.

And yesterday I made the cake (picture coming soon), and tonight we ate it with a couple of the middle school girls she teaches sunday school to. Then we played pictionary. It was fun.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for bed!

Summer So Far.

Well, since I am sitting around doing nothing, and I haven't updated my blog in a while, and there's nothing but infomercials on tv, and my lack of blogging was recently questioned, I thought I'd write a little update.

Since the last time I wrote (or right before)...

1) I went home and had an eye exam.The doctor was very disapproving of the fact that I wear contacts for as long as I can until they hurt or dry my eyes out, and that I order contacts online. He gave me this whole speech about how this is bad for your eyes and can cause all sorts of problems. And then he looked at my eyes and said, "Well, they look just fine and healthy now, but if you continue doing these things, there might be problems later." Ok-- quack.

In all seriousness though, contacts from the office are almost 2x as expensive as getting them online.

2) We celebrated Father's Day-- happy father's day dad!

3) Mom and dad drove me back to Boston (on father's day) so I could go to my building rededication. For those of you who missed that story, the building I would have attended here burned two years ago, and was being rebuilt all last year. I'd walk to school/work and pass it-- watching the walls be built, then the plumbing underground, etc.

Its long journey to restoration was finally over on Father's Day, and I felt like I couldn't miss it. Also, I snagged a ticket for the chapel, and President Eyring and Elder Packer were going to be there.

It was cool to hear all the history about the building, and now, ladies and gentlemen, I can WALK to church in 15 minutes. WALK!!! It's even ON THE WAY to school, so I can walk to school in 3 minutes from the building... and between the building and school is the office I work in. EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE is within a 20 minute walk now, and I am happy. Of course, my internship school for next year might not prove to be completely pedestrian friendly-- we'll see.

4) Mom and Dad were waiting outside that meeting because they didn't have tickets. When President Eyring and Elder Packer left, apparently Elder Packer fainted, and then a fire truck and an ambulance showed up. I got the story from mom since they kept us quarantined in the building until the scene was cleared.

5) We ate at Friendly's and walked to the top of a tower in a cemetery.

6) I interviewed for (and got) another summer job at the main undergrad. library at Harvard. I am the oldest employee.

7) I went to the Fourth of July Boston Pops Concert (on July 3rd) on the Charles River and saw MARTINA MCBRIDE. Don't judge my secret affair with country music.

The counselor I worked with at MHS gave me a very adorable picnic set on my last day, so I was all excited to use it. We got down there and had to wait in a security line, which, when we got to the front of it, had a sign saying "NO METAL SILVERWARE." Well, wouldn't you know, my picnic silverware had plastic stems, but metal heads. So my roommate and I tried to inconspicuously scheme about how we could hide the silverware. It was buried in the bottom of my freezer bag with our food in it. We thought we were fine.

Then we saw the security guards making everyone take everything out of their coolers, etc. (No WONDER the line was moving so slow.) So then we quickly decided to take them out of the bag and drop them into one of the bags on our camp chairs. And THEN we saw the security guards were taking chairs OUT OF BAGS and patting down the bottoms to see if anything was stashed in them. So we thought we were pretty much screwed, but we had no options short of quickly trying to find them again and stuffing them down our pants.

So we went through the security checkpoint and sure enough, the guy emptied our freezer bag. (He almost made us get rid of our plastic ketchup bottle for the hotdogs we brought.) He pulled the bags down off the chairs and there, half revealed, were the stems of the silverware. He patted down the bag, and I started to sweat as I watched his hands move down the bag, until one of them rested on the silverware. He looked up at me and I said, "Oh yeah..." and before I even had to pretend to make an excuse, he said, "Alright, you're all set." and pulled the bag back up and sent us on our way.

It's still not clear whether or not he knew the silverware was there, since it was on my side of the chair and he was just feeling his way around.

Anyway- once my heart rate settled down, we waited around for two hours and enjoyed the concert a lot. Is it sad that that's probably the most illegal thing I've ever done? That and smuggling candy into movie theaters. And jaywalking. I know- I'm such a rebel.

8) I took that same picnic basket and my roommates to a pseudo-ward activity at a beach in NH last week. It was a good trip, but it took us 2 hours to get there instead of one because of traffic, and we were not happy. We stopped on the way and ate at a Sonic. My roommates and I had a good time by ourselves once we actually got to the beach though. But, to be honest, the friendliness of the ward members when we finally found them and I introduced them to my roommates was underwhelming. Thanks for the disappointment and embarrassment, guys.

9) I've been working 30ish hours a week, which includes two twelve hour days at two different jobs. EW.

10) I am going to a ward activity in a little bit. Canoeing and barbecuing.

11) I got new shoes last week. I've needed new sneakers and flats for a while, but I was too busy/lazy to shop for them, and buying shoes online sounded like a bad idea. I wanted sneakers that weren't too bulky. I searched online and found some I liked, and then went up to TJ Maxx (a 15 minute walk) to see what they had. What to my wondering eyes should appear but the very same shoes I saw online!

Well, they weren't comfortable. But they had others I liked, and they're listed online for $60 and I got them for $35, so I'm fine with that. I also got a pair of these (the white ones) which I think are cute. And did I pay $40 for them?? No. $15.

I might have to exchange them though. You see, since high school I've been a size 8.5. In the past six months, my feet have been quietly inching along until they are now a 9.5ish. I was in denial. I even called mom to ask her to do a little toe-squeeze through the phone, but apparently that's not possible. She told me it's better to buy bigger than smaller. So I did. But WHAT THE HECK, CLOWN FEET?!?! So I bought the flats in a 9, but now I'm thinking I might as well get the 9.5.

Also, the best time to go to TJ Maxx is apparently when they're having their district management visit. I've never seen the store so organized and clean. The problem was it was teeming with staff, and when I took a pair of shoes out and left them on the floor, some guy quickly came by, swiped them up, and walked away to reshelve them. When I moved a little bench to the aisle so I could put on a pair of shoes, my butt barely moved three inches off it when a woman came by and moved it back.

Seriously-- your district manager is not going to fire you for letting me sit down! I told mom I wanted to tell them, "Please stop! You are making my shopping experience worse, not better!"

12) Apparently someone I used to date is getting married. This is actually the first time this has happened to me except for some guy I dated for like two weeks in high school. Anyway- my family can all probably guess who it is (and the rest of you probably don't care, so it works out). I have tried very hard to have (almost) no hard feelings towards him, but all I can say is a) I hope he's changed and b) I hope she's not stupid/knows what she's doing. But I hear she's 19, so... I don't know.

13) In connection with one of my other items (can you guess which one??) I have no patience for poorly planned events, and people who don't care that things are poorly planned.

14) Yesterday I got out of work and was on my way home. I was trying to finish a book so I could start something more interesting this week, so I thought I'd sit outside since it was nice out. Luckily, on my way home, I pass my very dear church building (as previously mentioned) which has a little park next to it. So I sat down to read. About 20 minutes later, a man came by and asked me if it was unlocked. I said no. He asked me if I went to church there. I said yes. Without barely a second's silence, he says, "You should serve a mission." Uhh... ok crazy man. I made some non-committal whine, and he said, "No, I'm serious. why haven't you thought about it? The great thing now is that they let sister missionaries go. And you're probably, what, 20 years old? You should go."

This is when I started to wonder a) who this man is and b) whether or not he had all his marbles. Also... do I really look 20? Probably.

He then said, "Have you seen the church's mormon channel? They have a video about missionaries in Japan. They show them cleaning and moving things to help clean up. And there's sister's doing it too! I mean, the sisters are really just as good as the elders at things like that..." Ok... stranger. Now you're starting to move into patronizing territory, but thanks. Before he left, he insisted on showing me how to draw Japanese symbols so I would be able to find this video on youtube, and admonished me once again to go on a mission because, "What's 18 months?!"

Yeah, cuz that's a good reason to go. Thanks for the advice crazy man. The next time I re-evaluate my life based on the advice of strangers, I will certainly keep you in mind. It was bizarre.

15) I went on a date last night. We went downtown to eat and ended up near Faneuil Hall where there were street performers-- a bunch of black guys making jokes about how they're black and break-dancing. It was entertaining, until the guy asked for volunteers and when no one volunteered, he literally pulled me out of the crowd into the middle of the circle. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

They gathered about four of us and made us squat there in a line while they built up to their final act, which was a guy running and jumping over us. I assume he was successful, since people clapped and none of us got hurt, but I wouldn't know because I was crouched into half a ball with my head tucked to my chest, afraid I was going to get kicked in the face.

The date was fine.

16) I am going home this week. Hopefully I'll get new glasses while I'm there. And I need to order contacts at some point.

17) I have been reading books. First: "And The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth" and then "The Overachievers" both by Alexandra Robbins (or something like that). I did not like either one, but I will write a post about that later. For now, someone (I'm looking at you Megan, who also has an education degree) needs to read "And the Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth" and tell me what you think about the character "Regan."

And I think I'm done now. I'm sure this was thrilling. So Mom, Megan... now you know why I haven't posted anything lately.

Just sayin'

It's JUNE-- why is it COLD?!?

Not a City (or a Hockey) Girl.

So, if you live anywhere within a 200 mile radius of Boston or Vancouver, you know that Boston just won the Stanley Cup.

The news reporting went like this: "People are running in the streets-- everyone is very excited, but the police look calm; they said they're not worried about the crowd at this point."

-----ten minutes later--------

"There are dozens of police officers from other cities in riot gear moving in on the crowd. There are people climbing on top of the T stations and throwing beer bottles. It's becoming dangerous very quickly, and obviously most of the people here are very drunk" and "People in Vancouver are being taken away by police. There have been fires and people are just generally very angry."


*Sigh*

Ok ladies and gentlemen, I hate to break it to you, but it's just. a. game. Please go home and go to bed before you hurt yourselves.

I forgot!

So today I started a job at one of the Harvard libraries.

I had to fill out a form about my highest level of education. It asked for degree and institution and I definitely wrote "B.S. in Psychology, Brigham Young University, 2010"

After I turned it in I realized, OH YEAH

"M.Ed.- Prevention Science & Practice/ Adolescent Counseling, Harvard University, 2011"

I have a Master's degree!!!

Too bad I missed my first opportunity to brag about it. Woops.

Also, I will be happy when the stanley cup is over so boston TV can get back to regular programming.

Odd Question

So I was just perusing my blog statistics for fun where it tells me how long people stick around once they find my blog, etc.

One of my favorites is the key word-- it tells you what people searched for that brought them to your blog.

This month's favorite: "Are Mormons required to get their wisdom teeth removed?"

Hahahahahaha.

Seriously- people must think we're so weird.

And, just in case there are more people out there wondering about this, let me clear up any confusion: No, we're not. (Caveat: unless you're going on a mission, then you have to get them out to avoid things like my three week fiasco)


There, I've done my missionary work for the day... do you think I can write it in the "missionary moments" journal they've been trying to send around RS for the last 8 months?

school's out for the summer!

Ok, I think it's time for an update.

First let me say that having nothing to do but work for 2 hours a day makes me VERY lazy. And being very lazy makes me feel tired. Last night I slept for 11 hours without batting an eye. What?! Seriously- it makes me feel like something is wrong with me. So, I am trying something new. Setting an alarm even though I don't need to. Getting up and getting work over with early. We'll see how that goes tomorrow morning at 8.

I have an interview for another part-time job next week, so hopefully I should have about 30 hours of work a week for the rest of the summer.

Even though I posted the pictures on facebook, here is a picture of my graduation! Facebook decided to stop letting me download my pictures, so I only have one.



I'm currently watching a frontline episode about meth. use. Meth. use is responsible for 80% of property crime in Oregon, apparently, and 50% of foster care placements in that state. Hmm-- you learn something new every day.

I'm also trying to a) find a new roommate and b) figure out my schedule for the end of August so I can plan a trip to UT to welcome my very first niece to earth. Hopefully that works out because I am realizing I haven't been to UT in a year, and I miss my nephews something terrible, and seeing sisters (ahem- Megan- come to UT please) and old friends would be nice too. Of course, Erin will have a new baby to tend, so maybe midnight Chili's runs won't happen. We'll see about that. oh and c) prepare my body to wake up at 5:30 on saturday morning to proctor SATs. (I'm already groaning).

Class of 2011!

I knew the weather gods would come through for me.

I suffered through a cold hard winter with barely any complaining (don't laugh), so they owe me.



This is starting to get exciting!

Also, for those of you who find yourselves with nothing better to do tomorrow, feel free to tune in on the internet! The huge Harvard commencement starts at 9 tomorrow, and my diploma ceremony starts at 12:15.

The (commencement) links are here:
www.commencementoffice.harvard.edu
www.commencement.harvard.edu
www.uis.harvard.edu

and (diploma ceremony) here:
http://video2.harvard.edu/livevideo/HGSE_diploma/

just in case anyone is wondering,

i am not appreciating the sore throat i woke up with today.

GO AWAY!

Hello there readers,

Yesterday was rainy and miserable, so when I went to bed, I thought I'd check the weather. My roommates graduated today; mine isn't for another 10 days, so surely the weather will be nice by then. That's what I thought... until this:

The next five days:


And the next five days after that:


So maybe we'll get partly cloudy.

But really, Boston? Rain for 10 days (plus the last two)? REALLY?!?

That's all.

-mollie

p.s.- I had a dream this morning that I woke up at 7:30, in CT, and had to get to MHS. I'm supposed to be teaching three classes this morning, and there was no way to get here. I was all stressed out. So... waking up at 5:30 in my little Cambridge bed was less obnoxious than usual.

p.p.s.- as a "professional" woman, you know what I hate more than most other things?? PANTY HOSE!!!!

Shout from the Rooftops!

My dearest readers,

There is much to say about the last 10 days that I spent bumming around at home (ok, no there's not), but it'll have to wait!

I turned in a paper last week, a paper the week before that, and two papers today (for a total of 76 pages), which means I. AM. DONE. Assuming I pass all those, I have officially earned my Master's Degree!!!! ... Of course I have to wait 18 days for them to give it to me, but I'M DONE!!!*


Also, on my walk home today, I walked by the church building and they took down the construction fence while I was gone. They've sodded and finished the landscaping and the whole thing looks like it's been there forever! Not much longer now!


* Minus the fact that I still have to go to my practicum site until the 20th. So I really need to sleep now.

The post you've all been waiting for...

Well hello there ladies and gentlemen,

So, let me recap the last week of my life.

After my trip to the dental clinic, and their suggestion that I get all of my wisdom teeth removed, mom made the appointments for last Thursday (consultation) and Monday (surgery).

I stayed up too late last week to make a poster for a presentation on Tuesday, that my program director asked me not to miss. Blah. Went to work on Wednesday, left to come home early Thursday morning.

Went to the consultation appointment where my oral surgeon, in his attempts to make me feel at ease, made me feel more like he was brushing off the fact that I was scared to death. So that back-fired for him. Maybe it's because I'm in a counseling program and it seems like 98% of the time, the response to give to a student is "validation". Tell them how you think they feel based on what they've said. All he had to say was, "Wow, it sounds like you're really scared about this, but ..." and I would have felt much better. It's dumb, but it works, and that's why they tell us to do it.

ANYway. So I left and ate 20 chicken nuggets, partly to make-up for the fact I didn't get to eat them when I got my job, and partly to drown my misery in sweet and sour sauce.

The weekend stretched on pretty slowly. I babysat Paul for most of Saturday and almost all of Sunday. That gave me something to do besides think about the terror of getting four teeth ripped out of my face. We went to the park, rode his bike, played video games, etc.

Finally, Monday morning came. Luckily I slept pretty well on Sunday night. That was great, except for the part when I dreamt about three times that it was already over and I was at home in bed. Waking up and realizing it still had to be done was really sad.

Because mom can't really move off the couch and I felt like Dad should go to work since he's missed so much time caring for his ailing wife (mom won't like that...), I asked Laurel to take me because she had the day off. She picked me up, drove me over there, and sent me away into the back. I sat down with the oral surgeon who again told me what was going to happen.

He sent me into the next room with the medical chair and all. Two nurses came in and went right to work hooking me up to machines to monitor my heart-rate and stuffing an oxygen tube up my nose (wasn't expecting that!). Then the doctor came in and put the IV in. He started talking to me about Harvard and the next thing I knew, I was groggily opening my eyes with a nurse standing over me. She said we were done. It felt like I had been asleep about 30 seconds.

I told mom and Laurel I did NOT want the teeth, so the nurse said, "I know you don't want them, but do you want to see them?" I mumbled "Sure" and she showed me them. They were all bloody and nasty, one of them was sawed in half. Ick. She asked me how my vision was and I motioned that the room was spinning. She told me to take my time.

About ten minutes later, she plopped me in a wheelchair and sent Laurel to get her car. They moved me into the car, and buckled my seatbelt. Laurel kept telling me she was going to video my drugged escapades, but... I wasn't really out of it. I was a little wobbly and my head was foggy, but I remember everything that happened after I woke up from surgery, so that's good. I was really weirded out by the possibility of not remembering two days of my life.

I think the worst part of the whole thing was driving home, because my eyes weren't quite keeping up with the moving scenery, and I started to feel really sick. I covered my face with my jacket and felt fine after sitting still on the couch for a little while. And trying to sleep with a numb lip and tongue; I had to hold paper towels next to my mouth to catch the bloody drool that I couldn't feel. That was NASTY.

Anyway. I can't smile or laugh really, but I don't feel pain more than a dull ache, which is how it felt before I got them out. My face never really got swollen. I've been trying to brush the teeth I can reach, but my mouth still feels like something died in there. Mostly I've been laying around wanting to eat things.

Yesterday I struggled through some scrambled eggs and pureed lasagna that Laurel made (I was hungry!). And Erin and Megan had flowers delivered to me, which mom said I didn't deserve, so apparently I'm recovering too quickly. I've been showering, doing laundry, watching movies, and sleeping a lot. Mostly mom and I lay around and argue about who has it worse. "I can't eat anything!" "Yeah, well I can't walk... or sit!"

So that's that. Today I have to write a paper that's due tomorrow.

All in all, it wasn't so bad. But I really really really just want to eat candy. Or 20 more chicken nuggets. YUM. Sadly, the internet is saying it could take a month before I'm completely healed?! But I love crunchy foods!

I'll stop my whining now.

Oh, and turns out the medical insurance would only pay for the removal of the impacted ones. So... that was $650 out-of-(momanddad's)-pocket for the other two. The whole thing cost almost $2000, so Megan, if you got yours out for $900, you're lucky!

Quick news.

So... turns out my date for tonight got a girlfriend... yesterday. Alright then.

Also, I officially got the internship at the school I was talking about.

Watching movies and eating easy candy in my pyjamas for the night.



And I am going home next Wednesday to get my consultation on Thursday to get my wisdom teeth out on Monday. Joy of all joys!

4/23- p.s.- I am pleased to announce my mouth pain has downgraded to a dull ache. I think the mouthwash made the swelling go down, which makes it a bit easier to open my mouth. Now I hope it stays this way...

We're Not Friends Anymore

Dear blog audience,

I'm just writing to formally inform (yes) you that I have lost a dear friend. That's right, tooth #17 has been out of control these past few days, and all he's done is hurt me. I'm ending it. The sooner the better. Of course, splits like this are never easy, and it will hurt me too. A lot.

That's right- as the "attending oral surgeon" said to me today, 'The day of judgment has arrived!' and I am officially getting my wisdom teeth removed shortly. Well, maybe not officially since I don't have an appointment yet, but it looks like it will be within the next 10 days.

I went to the Tufts Dental Clinic this morning. It said to get there early because the spots fill up quickly. They open at 9. I got there at 8.50. Their spots were already filled for the morning. (What the...?!) So I sat down and hoped I could get in. (This is when the fire alarm went off, we evacuated, and the fire trucks came while we stood in the rain. Oh yes.)

At about 10:30, I did. Come to think of it, I don't even know the (student) dentist's name. He was Indian and had a thick accent. We went up to the third floor and he simply said "Follow me" and bolted off down a hallway. Seriously, I felt like Alice following the White Rabbit. Where did he go?! Why is he walking so quickly?! I chased around corners to catch a glimpse of his feet to know where to go next.

He sat me down, and then said he'd look inside my mouth. With his little dentist-y tool, he hammered down on my gums which are covering the tooth (and that's why it hurts). "Does this hurt?" he asked. ?! OA@#$"*KJASLDF$ YES that hurts! Holy crap, why do you think I'm here!

So off he whisked me again to get an x-ray. He looked at it and said "So, you're going to be getting your wisdom teeth out." The one that's hurting me is on the bottom left and doesn't have enough room to erupt through my gums completely, so it's just stuck way back in the hinge of my mouth, with my gums covering half of it, which, as it turns out, hurts like the dickens. The one on my bottom right is legit. horizontal; I thought if I was going to have problems with one, it would be that one, but I'm sure that would not be far off.

So then the dentist was off again down some hallways and upstairs to the oral surgery floor where I sat for 3 hours waiting for a consultation. It was like a war zone up there. It reminded me of Chicken Run and Mrs. Tweedy: "Chickens go in. Pies come out." People came in, sat down, got called, went away, and 20 minutes later, they returned, their mouths stuffed with bloody gauze, and they shuffled their way to the elevator.

Finally, when it was my turn, the guy showed me my x-ray again and said "This is a consultation meeting, which means I'll tell you all your options and you will have to make an appointment to come back." He couldn't do anything for the tooth that's hurting because a) it's not a "simple extraction" because the tooth is considered impacted and b) he said I might as well get them all out at the same time and c) I'm not sure I adequately conveyed how much pain I was in and I'm pretty sure he thought I was a ninny.

So he sent me away with the comforting reassurance, "Yes. It's going to hurt like that until you get them removed, but I can't give you pain medication stronger than ibuprofen anyway." He prescribed antibiotic mouthwash and sent me back to the front desk to make an appointment to get them removed.

All the talk of IV or general anesthesia had me on the verge of tears, but what was worse was when the receptionist told me I couldn't get an appointment until mid-May/June so I left and called mom to find out what I should do now. Well, turns out my health insurance (thanks to Obama and Dad being employed) covers wisdom tooth removal 100%. And there are oral surgeons in CT who can do it next week.

The problem? Well, this is my last full week of classes. They officially end next Wednesday, when I also have a poster and a paper due. Then there's a finals "reading period" before my other papers are due. Could this have come at a worse time? I'm really not sure.

So I sit, popping pills every 5 hours, with pain in my jaw, tongue and throat, not opening my mouth more than 1.5" or so. I live in constant fear of yawning. All this while I'm trying to write papers and make posters in the next 4 days so I can get these teeth ripped out of my face sooner. Because writing papers with chronic mouth pain, or while trying to recover from oral surgery basically seem like the same thing to me right now.

Yayyyyyy!

Well, that was unexpected.

So, as some of you know, my continuation at H next year means that I end one program, get a master's degree at graduation, start a new program (though my courses will be chosen from the same list both years), and graduate next year with a CAS (certificate of advanced study) and a counseling license.

This also means my internship at MHS ends and I have to find a new internship for next year. Last year, we didn't get internships until we got here (obviously), so we started working at the sites at the end of September. This year, we're looking and shamelessly advertising ourselves right now in hopes of landing internships for next year, so we can start when they do- which is usually before classes at H start.

So about 10 days ago, I had an interview at a school in Cambridge; I was originally attracted to it because it's small (500 kids vs. MHS 1800) and closer to where I live (a 20 minute walk vs. a 60 minute bus+subway+walk to MHS). It is a private school, where tuition for a year is $36,000. (Whoa.)

Anyway. I had an interview there and thought it went well, and then didn't hear anything for 9 days. Yesterday the guy (who also happens to be in my Moral Adults/Moral Children class, but attends lecture on a different day) sent me an email and asked if he could call me today with some follow-up questions.

I was really hoping his follow-up questions consisted of, "What days can you work?" and "Would you be happy if I offered you an internship here?"

I was waiting all morning for him to call, which he finally did. He said in his section of Moral Adults/Moral Children, his class got talking about BYU's Honor Code and Brandon Davies (of course). He said he remembered that I went there, and wanted to know why I chose to go to school there and what I thought of the Honor Code. Of all the things floating around in my head as possible topics for our discussion, BYU and the Honor Code did not cross my mind even once. Not even for a split second.

So... after trying to recover from being shocked by his question, I struggled through an answer. After that, he asked me how I felt my own beliefs and morals influence my work with students in counseling relationships. Holy smokes.

Luckily, and partly because of my LDS Perspectives Class at BYU, I must have said something right, because after that, he said "Well, it was great to meet you, and everyone I talked to had great things to say about you. I think you'd be a good fit here, but I need to verify that with our headmaster and I'll let you know by the end of the week."

... I got off the phone and felt like I needed to take a nap. That conversation was exhausting.


Also, I might need emergency wisdom tooth extraction in the next week or so. I went to bed with pain and woke up with it; unlike my other wisdom tooth pain, this doesn't feel like it will go away soon. So that will be fun.

Also, I have a date on Thursday night.

The end.

Ok, so maybe I'm a control freak.

Update: This entry has been censored as promised.

So, I'm pretty sure tomorrow is going to be a nightmare.

Tomorrow I am an official, unofficial chaperone for a field trip that includes 200 juniors from MHS, and the public transportation system.

... Someone else planned a field trip to a college fair in downtown Boston, and we (the female Harvard interns) are expected to attend.

We have to switch subway lines three times.

Did I mention that 200 kids have turned in permission slips? And that there are TWO chaperones? And those two chaperones were told not to worry about keeping track of those 200 students, at all; we don't need to know how many go, or how many come back.

[rant about having to chaperone this thing...]

The End

(Also, for those of you who haven't heard yet, I'm getting a niece this summer and I'm really excited!!! And I painted my toe nails on Sunday and they look pretty cute, if I do say so myself.)

Unbelievable.

So...

The big H (lest anyone google it and happen upon my lowly blog, which I'm pretty sure is highly unlikely, but whatever) sent out their financial aid awards last week to the newly admitted students. This week, all I've done is spend time filing the letters that come in from students who want more money. It's not a bad idea in and of itself, so I don't mind.

But... today I happened across a letter from a mother who was soliciting extra financial aid for her son because he got accepted to Yale, Stanford, UC-Berkeley, Princeton, MIT etc. etc. The mother outlined all the financial aid packages from the other schools. [edited] A girl I go to school with was an undergrad at H. and she said, "Yeah the hard thing was being an undergrad. here- a lot of the kids you're in class with have already published books, or they've traveled around the world doing humanitarian aid work. It's intimidating."

I really thought those kinds of application essays were urban legends, but apparently they exist. And kids are really doing these things, on their parents' dime and errand no doubt, in hopes of securing their spots in Ivy League schools. And I guess I better get used to it if I'm going to be a school counselor.

But really, what is the world coming to?

Still in Mourning

The report of the Provo Tabernacle Fire came out today.

Reading the summary is like watching an awful suspense movie. You're sitting at the edge of your seat. You want to yell at the screen multiple times.

You want to yell at the lighting technicians, "Read the label on the lights! It says you shouldn't leave them there! You're not supposed to be in the attic anyway!"

You want to yell at the people who smelled 'hot glue', "Tell someone!"

You want to yell at the guy who noticed the building looked 'foggy', "Call the fire department!"

You want to yell at the guy who told the other guy to silence the alarm, "I know it's 1 in the morning, but it's NOT a false alarm!!"

You want to yell at the guy who silenced the alarm. "CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT ALREADY! THERE'S A FIRE IN THERE! DON'T JUST WALK AWAY!"

... but alas, your heart sinks at the end because you know it doesn't matter. The building burned anyway.



And it just makes me so sad.

Popular, You're Gonna be Popular.

So, I'm supposed to be writing a quick paper right now; it's due at 2:30. But I have to take a break to talk about this.

Yesterday Harvard put out an email about commencement marshals. This means one person from each Master's program will be recognized at graduation for being someone who exemplifies leadership and the general HGSE aura; they do some sort of special thing and get a cord or something to wear. It sounded nice, but my first thought was, "... popularity contest. Joy."

So the email included a link for the poll to vote. I closed the email, figured I'd vote later, and moved on with my life.

Until right now. I am sitting in the cafeteria trying to write my quick paper, and I have never overheard so much conversation that made me feel like I was having a flashback to high school. I have heard three different people pitch themselves to their friends to be the subject of the awards. "Would you guys vote for me?" they ask in enthusiastic tones. Really? Really?!

Never have I seen so many mid-twenties (and older) people regress to middle school social skills, vying for a symbolic recognition of their Harvard-ness. "Yes, I DO belong here. Look at my cord! Now somebody hire me." they seem to already be saying. I suppose I shouldn't be quite as surprised, considering many of these people are academic elitists, used to everyone making a big deal about them because of their awesomeness in one form or another. But oh, the lack of humility.

Ick.

So I will go back to my paper now, and vote quietly in my room later. But so help me if we get an email asking us to vote for "Best Eyes" or "Cutest Couple".

birthday planning

Dear Family,

Most of you know your favorite holiday is coming next week... my birthday! (... I think it's taken me 5 years to say "my" birthday and not "our" birthday- and it still looks weird.)

Anyway- I do not want people spending money on me, so I am now accepting only homemade gifts-I would like to see your best macaroni necklaces please.

Some of you might have to help me convince mom not to buy me anything except dinner.

And, the end.

mollie

Anniversaries

On this day a year ago, I could barely sleep from excitement about being accepted to Harvard for graduate school.

On this day this year, I spent my evening volunteering to make phone calls to the newly admitted students. It made me really happy. It reminded me of my BYU/FA days when we used to have phone marathons calling students. And it reminded me of last year when I got a call from a student, but I was still in shock and didn't answer.

Mmmm... that memory makes me so happy.

Oh and apparently I didn't tell anyone this, but last week I got my acceptance to my second year at Harvard to pursue a Certificate of Advanced Study in Counseling and get my license.

I am truly grateful to be going to school here.

Oh AND my friend Sanita from BYU, has an interview at a school in Boston, which means I get to see her for her (16 hour, fly-in, fly-out) visit the week after next. It's been more than two years, because she served a mission. And I'm sure excited.

So it's been a good day.

My Social Network

So today I got up weirdly early and felt weirdly well-rested.

The sun was shining (ok, it wasn't really visible, but it was warm out) so I felt the need to reintroduce it to my legs as I walked to the bus for church. It was SO NICE to not cringe when I opened the door in my sweater tights and spend time worrying that my legs will not be warm enough.

So I ate breakfast and as I stood at the bus stop and popped my last bit of bagel into my mouth, I realized it was fast sunday.

Woops.

I went to church and sat with a friend of mine and during testimony meeting, a guy got up. Not just any guy. One of my best home teachers, from my first year (I was there for 2 years, and had different home teachers the second year, who were also really good interestingly enough- I guess that was the ward of good home teachers) in my last ward at BYU. It was crazy! I could barely contain myself.

No offence to him, but it wasn't like he was my favorite person in the world. It was just that he was a good friend, a familiar face, and a genuinely nice person. And he came from Provo (and is going back tomorrow) and I had been missing Provo. It was so surprising to see him that I couldn't help but be happy.

So that was a bright spot in my day. I asked him what he was doing, and he's out here touring Harvard Law at an admitted student event. (He also got admitted to Stanford and a bunch of other places- who knew he was such a fancy pants... then again, he said the same thing about me being at school out here. We are closet Harvard-ians.)

Anyway. I was supposed to spend my time after church writing a paper due on Tuesday. But I decided since he didn't know anyone and he was staying in a hotel and probably being lonely, I should invite him to lunch at my house. Of course this meant I had to find something to serve for lunch. Luckily I gave in to my Cafe Rio craving last week and bought (on Tuesday) and made (on Friday) all the stuff for Cafe Rio salads. Mmmmm. So I made that. And we ate it. And it was good.

Then he walked down to Harvard for an event, so I tried to do some homework. But the CES broadcast was on, so I watched that.

So... the moral of the story is: it was good to see an old friend today, but I'm afraid my procrastination and social time today mean that I now have to write a 12 page paper TOMORROW. IN ONE DAY. And I have to work at MHS tomorrow and at the FAO. Which means I have to write a 12 page paper tomorrow (after getting up at 5 am), between the hours of 5 pm and 10 am on Tuesday. And do all the research for it.

I am not going to be a happy person on Tuesday.

Let that be a lesson to you: happiness now does not always feel good later.

I sound so Biblical.

The end.

New URL!

So I've decided to change my blog url, as I said I would.

Despite Kyle's advice, I think I succeeded in making myself less google-able.

So here we are!

I think if you were a "follower" of my blog before, you'll have to find me again.

We'll see.

Also, I'm feeling a little provo homesick today. It's sad.

Anddddd I just swallowed a worther's whole by accident. WHOA.

Content.

Today:
Filing papers for 4 hours.
Puddle-walking and a little more snow.
Reading articles (2 more to go!) about mental health in schools, character education, and special education assessments for next week.
Video chatting with Will and Sawyer- twice. I love those boys.
Dinner with roommates.
Scrabble and TV with roommates.


Tomorrow:
Breakfast with roommates.
BYU basketball game with Mormon friends.
Dinner with Mormon friend.
Stake fireside.

Sunday:
Oscar party with roommates = ridiculous jewelry and make-up. And food.

... And that's a good weekend.

The Long Version- Kicked to the Curb.

So I posted the quick version of this story on facebook, but for those of you looking for more detail, or for those of you who don't facebook-stalk me (which I'm sure you all do- I mean, what else do you have to do with your time?) here is more detail.

This morning I had a meeting on campus with the other interns from MHS and our supervisor. I had arranged to have it there (I was incredibly excited about the lack of an hour commute) so I had to be on time. I got on the bus up where I live and took it into the square.

The scrolling sign over the bus windshield said "Route 78- Harvard Station" but inside, the electronic announcements were saying "Route 74- Service to Harvard Station" (There are 4 buses that go into Harvard station from where I am; the 78 and 74 are two of them. It was odd the signs didn't match.)

Anyway. Every time someone got off the bus, the bus driver said, "Thank you, have a good day!" He was a portly older man with silver hair. I thought he was friendly.

The bus drove into Harvard Station. Knowing I had some extra time and the bus makes a big loop, I thought I'd just stay on to get closer to where I wanted to be. (See, the bus route is more like a needle. Most of the route is the long skinny part, but I wanted to be on one side of the eye, and we had just driven around the other.) I have only ever taken the bus into or out of Harvard Station. I have never stayed on to see the mysterious black deep that the bus somehow navigates to get to one floor to drop people off and another floor to pick them up. I was curious. And lazy. So today was my day. I had a little extra time and thought the bus driver was friendly, so I walked up and asked him if I could stay on and get off at such-and-such street.

He said,"I suppose." I thought he was being funny and sat down in the first row of seats, with my chocolate chip bread for the meeting and my feet dangling happily above the floor. He asked to verify where I was going, so I told him again.

We drove out of the bus port further away from where I needed to be. I figured the "eye of the needle" was simply bigger than I thought.

Having only seen this part of Cambridge on foot, I was enjoying the quicker navigation. Until he was stopped in traffic. He looked in the mirror and said, "You're out of control. You have to get off." I gave a courtesy laugh. And then he opened the door to the bus and I realized he was not joking.

So he dumped me out, there in the middle of traffic, calling after me, "Have a good day!"

... I got to the curb and looked around to notice if anyone else was as confused as I was. What just happened? I think I just got kicked off a city bus. I DID just get kicked off a city bus! WHAT!? I didn't even do anything! Ahh! I have a meeting to get to. Start walking.

I had to walk about 15 minutes to where I actually wanted to go, and I was late for my meeting (luckily my supervisor was late(r).)

Anyway. It was the most bizarre experience I've had on Boston public transportation yet, and that's really saying something. ...And now I'm a little scared to try to take the bus again tomorrow morning.

Peter Pan Adventure

Well, this is sure to be my most interesting bus ride on the Peter Pan from Hartford to Boston.

First of all, they jacked up the prices for the holiday weekend, which is definitely highway robbery (and aptly named).

Second of all, I got to the station at 3:30 and my bus wasn't supposed to leave until 4:15. I walked out to check if the bus was already here and there was a massive line of people. The loudspeaker said "3.30 express to Boston. Gate 8." Knowing the Peter Pan policy, I could have gotten in line and if they had a spot, they would've let me on. But I thought, "No, I'll wait for my 4.15 and get a good seat." (I recently discovered the handicapped row, which has double the leg-room.)

So I went back inside and stood around. I asked the lady at the counter where the 4.15 bus would be leaving from, and she said gate 8, so I went back outside with some other people to wait. I have never boarded a bus more than 15 minutes before it was supposed to leave, so I was content.

People had no idea what was going on, so I finally asked the bus driver. He said "I'll take your ticket." I said, "But this is the 3.30 right?" He said, "You have a ticket for the 4.15." "Yes," I said. "Then I'll take your ticket," he said.

... so I asked again, "Is this the 3.30 bus?" to which he again replied, "You asked about the 4.15." Ok, very tall, balding foreign man, FINE I will get on your bus. It might be taking me to New York City, but whatever.

So I got on and found a (crappy) seat. I asked other people on the bus and they said they were waiting for the 3.30 and some were waiting for the 4.15. As far as we can tell, they just started filling busses around 3 and when one got full, they left. So they started another one. Whatever. I don't know what's going on- I just know finally Tall Man came back, sat down in his little seat, and off we went at 4.15. So I guess it was the 4.15 bus... loading 45 minutes early.

But it's sure to be interesting. There is someone somewhere with ethnic food that is SUPER fragrant (I packed my chinese leftovers under the bus because I didn't want to stink up the bus... apparently others do not feel such courtesy towards their 59 fellow passengers). Something on the bus is whistling like a teapot. And there are two girls behind me who keep kicking my seat and are legitimately drinking from beer bottles in brown paper bags, and cursing. Really? Really?

Ok. Best go look at the road lest I barf.

p.s.- I did all my reading for classes up until next Monday, which I'm telling you because it rarely happens and I think I deserve bonus points.

UPDATE: We got to Boston in 1:45 (so the driver was clearly speeding...) and I went to go home by getting on the subway (T) and then another bus. But the T was delayed because of a police investigation at one of the stations between me and home. Mom (and the nightly news) told me there was a stabbing at 5 pm in the station.

Emails

I get a lot of emails from the ward listserv; like... probably 10+ per day.

Today had one that said the building that burned here (that's 10 minutes from my house and 3 minutes from school) is getting its steeple tomorrow morning! They put it out with an agenda; bring your lawn chairs everyone- it's sure to be a nail-biter! In all seriousness, I AM excited. That building needs to be done. So I don't have to commute 40 minutes to church.

Another one advertised free dental work through Tufts School of Dental Medicine. You get screening x-rays and if you have a medium-sized cavity, you get it filled for free and $100. I thought "That's a good idea! I haven't been to the dentist in a(n embarrassingly) long time. I should go; I probably have a cavity."

And then I thought, "No, no. That's a horrible idea. I have a feeling it'd only make me more terrified than I already am of dental experiences in the future." So no free dental work for me, I think.

Long weekend ahead- thank goodness!!

Word to the Wisdom Tooth

Please stop hurting me.

I am in an abusive relationship with one of my wisdom teeth. They've all done just fine growing in, if a little crooked, in the back of my mouth. But the last stubborn tooth to grow in is on the right bottom, and it insists on growing in a little more crooked than the others. It has been fine, hurting every now and then, but the last couple days, it's been hurting. I'm hoping it'll go away, because I'd rather not have emergency dental work done at this point.

But ever since Erin told me about her friend whose wisdom tooth grew in and broke her molars, I have been nervous.

So, tooth, please stop bothering me. I have been nothing but nice to you over the years, and I gave you all the growing room I could. Let's all get along please; all my other 31 have been just fine- why you gotta rock the boat?

"Basketball Jones" Would Be Proud

So today I feel like this:



because yesterday, I did this:



(Yes, exactly like that.)A girl in my ward organized a stake (well, singles' wards in the stake) women's basketball tournament as a throw-back to our YW basketball days.

I was excited about it.

There were four teams, and we all played each other and whoever won the most games won the tournament. So I played basketball for 2.5 hours. And of course, in true YW basketball style, there were pig tails and knee socks, one team that was super competitive and kept fouling people,a number of girls well-acquainted with the floor, a fair amount of travelling and double-dribbling, and much "jungle ball" as our coach used to call it. And of course final scores that never broke 10 points. Ah, the good old days.

But today many of the muscles from my shoulders to my knees are very sore.

... perfect conditions for sitting around watching football with roommates and eating junk food.

Moral Adults?

(CAUTION: This post is obscenely long...)

So in my Moral Adults: Moral Children class, we spent this week talking about self-esteem in public education and in parenting. Basically, the professor was making the point that somewhere in the last generation or so, parents and teachers have become so worried about making their kids feel good about themselves that no one is paying attention to whether or not they're becoming good people or getting good grades.

For some reason the argument in pop psychology and modern education seems to be "Make kids feel good about themselves and they'll learn better and become good people." But it's not true. Children from Asian countries are more likely to rate themselves lower on self-esteem measures than American students, and yet they have the highest rates of achievement. And, many criminals and bullies have very high self-esteem, which didn't seem to do them any favors in the realm of morality.

The idea of self-esteem education is not a new observation in the Dickerson family; ask my siblings or parents and you'll hear what we refer to as "self-esteem school." Using that term often also means Megan or I will remind everyone of her history project in middle school, which was a last-minute crap job, and yet the teacher gave her an A+++, or some such ridiculous mark. Self-esteem school. We also liked to jokingly refer to BYU-Idaho as such. Like the mother who recently asked Cromwell Middle School to abolish their honor roll because it marginalizes the kids who don't get put on it, parents are so worried about how their kids feel about themselves, that they're not paying attention to whether or not they actually deserve the praise they receive.

The professor argued, with research, that in fact, when kids receive empty universal praise from adults (like "you're great!" "Way to go!") they report feelings of indifference later in adolescence. They may feel good about themselves, but they've also learned that praise from adults doesn't mean anything. And they've learned that they can do no wrong. They've learned that they don't have to do good to feel good about themselves or to earn praise. They've learned that there's no need to put effort into developing any sort of moral compass because people will tell you you're great no matter what.

He also said a lot of things about how parents need to be parents and not friends to their kids; how parents need to encourage children to be good for being good's sake; not because it will make them happy (indeed, being good or standing up for what's right often won't make a kid happy; it will make him lonely.)

Anyway. I'm rambling, but the lecture was really interesting.

The professor likes to give us scenarios to think about. This week it was the following:

"You are the coach of an eighth grade traveling soccer team. You have told parents and kids that you're very interested in promoting players' "character", but you haven't defined explicitly what that means. You have worked to create a sense of "team" among the players, and all players play roughly equal minutes. But in part because you don't play your best players much more than your weaker players, your team has been struggling. The team has won 2 games and lost 4. Michael, a parent of one of your best players, Katie, calls you. He says that Katie is very frustrated that she is not playing more and that the team is losing. He also says he is frustrated as well. He also says that Katie's grades are not great and that this is the one place where she can really stand out. Michael says that if Katie doesn't play more then he will try to find another team for her."

His questions were "How do you respond to Michael?" etc.

Now. We were supposed to talk about it with the people sitting near us. I happened to be sitting next to my Harvard twin Megan (she's a twin, born on April 1st, 1988; I mentioned her before). We talked about it and seemed to quickly come to the conclusion that you would talk to Katie, and try to ask her to think about how the other players feel, etc. We might talk about how she could help the other girls learn, etc.

The professor brought the class together and opened it to discussion. I thought it would be a fairly tame conversation about how to teach kids it's not all about winning, etc. I thought that, until the first girl commented that she didn't understand why so many people encourage this "communist distribution of playing time." She went on to argue that it's not bad for kids to want to win, and it's not bad for kids to learn that if they're not good at something, they don't get to play.

Whoa.

And so the conversation continued with people arguing that kids who are bad at playing shouldn't get to play. One girl even argued, "I don't think it's fair to give everyone time to play. Maybe those kids who aren't very good feel guilty for their team's losses." I had just been sitting and watching people get fired up until I heard that.The professor then said, "Most of you seem to be arguing that the good player should get more time. Does anyone feel strongly about a different opinion?" Before I knew what was happening, I raised my hand. I said I WAS the kid that didn't get to play 8th grade basketball because my team wanted to win and I wasn't that good. I said I spent hours in practice and never got to play; my team winning didn't matter to me because I had nothing to do with it.

The professor acknowledged my point, and then one of my classmates piped up and said, "So we just have to encourage kids who aren't good at things to keep doing it? If it's not ok to tell a kid they're not good at something, how will they learn?"

I got annoyed with that too. It's not like if I had gotten playing time, I would have thought I was good at basketball. I knew I wasn't that good. Trust me; as a 13 year old, you know when you're not good at something. As kids get older, they'll learn very quickly that they're not as good at things as other kids are. Adults don't need to tell them. And if, in some anomalous twist of reality, a kid doesn't realize they're not as good as other kids, don't worry-- the other kids will tell him pretty quick.

Anyway. It just made me think, "You all must have been the kid who was good at soccer; you wouldn't argue for her to get more playing time if you were the kid who would have to sit on the bench for her to play more." It made me think "Your parents were the crazies who would call the coach about something like this. Your parents were the ones who yelled at the ref. on the sidelines." Ugh. And the most discouraging thought of all was, "In 20 years, my kids are going to be going to school with yours."

So after we have these discussions, the professor always gives what he thinks is a good solution. Of course he started by saying it depends on how the team was advertised. (If the team wasn't advertised as a group where everyone gets playing time, we might have more of a problem.) But in general, he agreed that kids in 8th grade shouldn't be split into groups of who is and isn't good at things; there's plenty of time for that in high school. He said kids should get a chance to play. He suggested that perhaps the problem was only Michael's and that Katie didn't actually care. He said the coach should talk to Katie and the rest of the team to get a feel for how everyone feels. Ultimately, he said if Katie DID care, someone needed to talk to her about learning to be a good loser, learning what it means to be a "team", and learning to be committed to other people and worried about someone besides herself.

So I felt vindicated. But a lot of people left annoyed. And I suppose some of you probably agree with the other people in my class, and you're probably annoyed. But anyway. I guess it partly just goes to show that my moral compass is more closely aligned with my 60 year old professor than with my classmates. Big surprise. Perhaps that's why most of my friends in high school were faculty members.

Ok, I'm done now.

$14/hr

So as you (should) know, I have recently entered the wonderful world of working people.

Last semester, I "worked" by taking notes in my classes for some anonymous person in my class who had diagnosed learning disabilities. I only got 4.5 hours of work a week, for $14/hr.

This semester, I signed up today for more note-taking. So that's 4.5 hours.

Then I have my Financial Aid Office job at 10 hours a week, $14/hr.

The FAO is located about 4 minutes from HGSE campus, so it is super convenient to go before class. They require us (there's 3 of us) to work at least 2 hours a day each in the file room. The file room is a big room with floor to ceiling book shelves that I have to swipe my ID card to access. (Ooo fancy.) All the undergrads have folders in there, but my job is for freshmen filing.

The College received 35,000 applications this year; that's a 20% increase from last year; last year saw a 10% increase from the year before. I don't know why everyone has decided now's the time to go to Harvard, but that's beside the point. The fact that their application fee is $75, so even if we generously estimate that 20% of the students got to apply for free given their financial background, the College still made more than $2 million on applications alone is also beside the point.

Technically, most of the paperwork is submitted online. But there are still a LOT of people, and over-zealous, anxious students/parents who submit paper copies of forms. And that's where I come in. I file all their paperwork into drawers of folders. As the application decision season progresses, we start pulling folders of students the College likes. They get filed on a different bookshelf to be looked at by a financial aid officer. Eventually, they will admit 2500 students.

So technically, I suppose, I have an inside scoop on who Harvard is admitting this year. If only I knew anyone who cared about such information. Although, even if I knew anyone who cared, I am sworn to secrecy, so I couldn't tell you if I wanted to, without getting fired and probably "dismissed" from HGSE.

I will say my alphabet skills will be acutely honed by the end of the semester; with so many applications we are often filing up to the 5th or 6th letter of names. Also, I'm getting a lot of paper cuts. We're talking massive, 1/2" long paper gashes. It makes washing my hands or using hand sanitizer a real treat. Also, it is surreal to come across tax returns and bank statements with 7 figures on them.

That's an amount of money I'm pretty sure I won't ever see associated with my name. I am just happy to have my $203/week, thank you very much. Someday I might make like $1000/week.Maybe.That would be nice. I don't know what I'd do with a 7 figure bank statement... after paying off my student loans.

Anyway- before I get sucked into thinking about just how much money that actually is, I'm gonna be done now.

-mollie

p.s.- I'm going to a sushi restaurant for the first time tonight; I'm wishing I was going to be eating 20 chicken nuggets instead, which I have yet to partake of.