Tonight, Audrey and I went out on the town. We both dressed up and went out to eat at a fancy restaurant. We decided we needed to celebrate. When people asked us what we were celebrating, we told them finals were over. But, that wasn't the real reason. It was more of a celebration of what we have learned about ourselves in the past year. It was a celebration of becoming women. It was a celebration of our realization of our own unique and wonderful talents and tastes that we have discovered. It was a celebration of our spiritual growth.
Audrey came home from a final, disappointed that she did not complete the reading. As a result, she will not receive an A in the class. She got 100% on every other assignment. She learned amazing things in the class. She internalized what she learned. She became a better person through the class. She put her whole heart into the class and wanted her grade to reflect that. As she came into my room with tears in her eyes, I held her. She could have still received an A, even though she did not complete the reading. She was honest. She evaluated herself and turned into the teacher that the reading was not complete. Ironic, I think, that the reason she will not receive an A in the class is because she internalized a principle she learned and put it to use. She would have hated the A she received had she put down a better reading score. That takes a lot of moral courage.
As I was reading my scriptures tonight, one verse in D&C caught my attention. I feel like I can safely insert the name 'Audrey' in the verse.
"And again, verily I say unto you, blessed is my servant Audrey; for I, the Lord, love her because of the integrity of her heart, and because she loveth that which is right before me, saith the Lord."
D&C 124:15
Monday, April 24, 2006
Finals
Finals. Just that one word fills most students hearts with dread. I won't lie. That includes me-most of the time. I had a final on Monday morning. 7:00 am on Monday morning to be exact. It was to be 3 hours long. My teacher is very intense. We had many papers, helped host a conference, memorized songs, practiced solfiege, learned how to play the recorder and autoharp and performed for our classmates, learned how to teach the blues to children, learned how to teach children, were chided if we did something in our 'practice" teaching that might hurt a child. We went to elementary schools and taught children song games. We observed teachers and their teaching methods and determined whether it was good for the children or not. This class was incredible. I learned so much about myself. I learned so much about children and how to build relationships of trust with them. I learned about the girls in my class. I have come to love each of them dearly. I have come to love and respect my teacher with all my heart. I value her opinion.
Our final this morning was bittersweet. We all have practiced for the last half of the semester, about 30 song games for children. We have also practiced recorder trio to perform at this final. We were to teach the song games and sing them to our classmates. We were to then sing them in solfiege. We had all practiced diligently and felt prepared for the test. When the test began, one by one we sang our songs and played our games. We had fun. I looked at each of the girls in my class and felt a strong love for them. A picture came to my mind of how we taught song games at the beginning of the year. Each of us have developed immensely. We are confident in our teaching of young children (at least when we practice on each other). We have each sat at the feet of our professor, ready and willing to partake of the knowledge she has to impart. We have loved her through her quirks and forgetfulness. We have loved her because of the passion she has for children which emanates in every class period. We have struggled together through difficult theory tests and laughed at their dumb jokes. We have talked about boys. We have been there for each other when there have been difficult break-ups. We have discussed the spiritual experience each of us had when choosing this major. For every one of us, it was a miracle.
When we finished the final, we all sat at our professors feet, anxious for more words of wisdom, but knowing the time had come to move on. She graced us with parting words of advice and told us she loves us and we must visit her. We will! We cried. We will! This was one final I am sorry to be done with.
Our final this morning was bittersweet. We all have practiced for the last half of the semester, about 30 song games for children. We have also practiced recorder trio to perform at this final. We were to teach the song games and sing them to our classmates. We were to then sing them in solfiege. We had all practiced diligently and felt prepared for the test. When the test began, one by one we sang our songs and played our games. We had fun. I looked at each of the girls in my class and felt a strong love for them. A picture came to my mind of how we taught song games at the beginning of the year. Each of us have developed immensely. We are confident in our teaching of young children (at least when we practice on each other). We have each sat at the feet of our professor, ready and willing to partake of the knowledge she has to impart. We have loved her through her quirks and forgetfulness. We have loved her because of the passion she has for children which emanates in every class period. We have struggled together through difficult theory tests and laughed at their dumb jokes. We have talked about boys. We have been there for each other when there have been difficult break-ups. We have discussed the spiritual experience each of us had when choosing this major. For every one of us, it was a miracle.
When we finished the final, we all sat at our professors feet, anxious for more words of wisdom, but knowing the time had come to move on. She graced us with parting words of advice and told us she loves us and we must visit her. We will! We cried. We will! This was one final I am sorry to be done with.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Happy Birthday Dear Caitlin!
My sister's birthday was yesterday. She is officially 19 years old. I don't know why I put officially in that sentence. As opposed to being unofficially 19 years old? Weird. Anyway... she is an exceptional person. I want to tell you about my sister. Maybe this is more of a walk down memory lane.
When we were young, I used to read all the time. She would get very frustrated with me and wanted to play. There were 6 boys in my family and only two girls, so if I was occupied, that meant she had no one to play with. She would come sit by me while I read sometimes. Other times, she would try to get my attention nicely... and at other times she was downright obnoxious trying to get my attention. But in the end, I think she always won. I always stopped reading to play with her. Maybe not always... I think when I read any of Jane Austin or Little Women, I stayed and read. She is a very determined girl. :)
When I finally stopped reading, we played lots of things together. We played with Disney Dolls. Basically, they were the same as Barbies, but my Mom didn't like barbies and allowed us to play with Disney Dolls instead. We loved to play in our pasture outside. We used to go exploring. We would go to this old warehouse on our land and look at all the junk that was there. We had two creeks on our land and we would pick cattails and look at tadpoles. Sometimes we went to catch frogs with our little brother. We used to watch anthills. Ants are amazingly fast creatures, I decided. In the winter the four youngest kids in my family would dress up very warmly (face completely covered) and hook a sled up to the back of the truck. My Dad would then take us all around the land, pulling the sled behind. When we came back inside, we all got hot chocolate and sat next to a heater with a blanket on top to trap the heat inside. We would watch the snowflakes and study together that way. My older brother would always help us patiently with our math or reading. Sometimes when we sat there, my older brother and I would take turns reading stories out loud to Caitie and Nathaniel (Nate back then). We read things like Chronicles of Narnia and the Tennis Shoes series.
We got a little older. I graduated from primary and moved into Young Womens. I started doing strange things like shaving my legs and wearing make-up. I taught Caitie how to do those things before she was the acceptible age to do them. I think we had to be 12 to shave our legs and 14 to wear make-up. I felt bad when Caitie wasn't part of what I was doing, so I taught her how to do them and she followed. I got a little bit older and started doing even stranger things-like liking boys. I think Caitie watched with amusement as I spent more and more time getting ready because I liked some boy at mutual. We got a little bit older and I started going to church dances. This was the hardest separation yet. I didn't even want to go to dances without my younger sister. And she didn't want me to leave. We had always done fun things together. But, I went to dances with my older brother and he taught me how to dance. It was a good time for me. I started learning more about myself as a young woman and no longer a little girl. Caitie was starting to develop crushes. Holding hands was a big deal back then. :)
I remember one time that is very special to me. Caitie and I have always shared a room (except for the two years I went to college before her). This time was no exception. As we were laying in bed, Caitie was struggling with something. I don't remember what exactly. I put my arms around her and started singing-hoping it would console her. "Walk tall, you're a daughter, a child of God. Be strong, please remember who you are. Try to understand, you're part of His great plan. He's closer than you know. Reach up. He'll take your hand." By the end of the song, we both had tears streaming down our faces. Love isn't a strong enough word to describe the feeling we had in the room that night.
Years past and we moved from Montana to Ohio. I was 16 and Caitie was 14. The move was hard for all of us. But, we determined to make the best of it. Right away, Caitie had several admirers. I suppose all 3 of us younger children had admirers/friends right away. We became the "flavor of the month" as someone once said. Caitie had boys write her songs and poems and perform them for her. Boys came to help her paint the house-hoping through service they could win her affections. This has been the story of her life ever since. :)
All three of us younger children began karate lessons after we moved there. This was hard. Not so much for Caitie or Nathaniel. But it was for me. I didn't like hitting people. :) Our teacher was adamant that we hit to punch-none of this hitting a foot away from the person to make sure it doesn't hit them. If they got hit, it was their fault for not defending carefully. One night the 3 of us went to sparring night. The teacher put on loud, offensive music (to fit the mood) and put us each with partners. Caitie and I are similar sizes, so he put us together. We began hitting each other. Every time I hit her or she hit me, we started to cry. I was 16 and she was 14. We would fight each other with tears streaming down our faces. We weren't crying because it hurt physically. We were crying because it hurt our spirits to hit each other. It was traumatic. I didn't cry when I hit anyone else (except for Nathaniel).
About a year after we moved to Ohio, I started dating someone. Here was another change I couldn't make with Caitie. She was very patient with me through the whole ordeal. As I spent more time with my boyfriend, she spent more time with our youngest brother. She watched me struggle through my first boyfriend. And right after dating him, starting to date someone else. She dated lots of different boys throughout this time. I went to college right after that. Another change.
The first 2 years of college were hard for me. I hadn't been to public school since 3rd grade. I had never lived away from home except for EFY every summer. I became depressed. I lost who I was. I longed to feel the peace and comfort I had felt when I was a little girl playing in the fields with my siblings. Finally, Caitie decided to come to school with me. She helped me remember who I was. She helped me to see my strengths. She helped me to realize that Heavenly Father loves all of His children-including me. All of the little things that were such a part of me when I was little had been lost. Caitie helped me find them again. She helps me every day to remember a little more of who I am and who I can become. I am so grateful for her. I truly am blessed to not only be her friend, but to be her sister. Happy birthday my dear, dear sister. I love you ever so much.
"Sisters don't need words. They have perfected a language of snarls and smiles and frowns and winks... expressions of shocked surprise and incredulity and disbelief. Sniffs and snorts and gasps and sighs... that can undermine any tale you're telling." -Pam Brown
When we were young, I used to read all the time. She would get very frustrated with me and wanted to play. There were 6 boys in my family and only two girls, so if I was occupied, that meant she had no one to play with. She would come sit by me while I read sometimes. Other times, she would try to get my attention nicely... and at other times she was downright obnoxious trying to get my attention. But in the end, I think she always won. I always stopped reading to play with her. Maybe not always... I think when I read any of Jane Austin or Little Women, I stayed and read. She is a very determined girl. :)
When I finally stopped reading, we played lots of things together. We played with Disney Dolls. Basically, they were the same as Barbies, but my Mom didn't like barbies and allowed us to play with Disney Dolls instead. We loved to play in our pasture outside. We used to go exploring. We would go to this old warehouse on our land and look at all the junk that was there. We had two creeks on our land and we would pick cattails and look at tadpoles. Sometimes we went to catch frogs with our little brother. We used to watch anthills. Ants are amazingly fast creatures, I decided. In the winter the four youngest kids in my family would dress up very warmly (face completely covered) and hook a sled up to the back of the truck. My Dad would then take us all around the land, pulling the sled behind. When we came back inside, we all got hot chocolate and sat next to a heater with a blanket on top to trap the heat inside. We would watch the snowflakes and study together that way. My older brother would always help us patiently with our math or reading. Sometimes when we sat there, my older brother and I would take turns reading stories out loud to Caitie and Nathaniel (Nate back then). We read things like Chronicles of Narnia and the Tennis Shoes series.
We got a little older. I graduated from primary and moved into Young Womens. I started doing strange things like shaving my legs and wearing make-up. I taught Caitie how to do those things before she was the acceptible age to do them. I think we had to be 12 to shave our legs and 14 to wear make-up. I felt bad when Caitie wasn't part of what I was doing, so I taught her how to do them and she followed. I got a little bit older and started doing even stranger things-like liking boys. I think Caitie watched with amusement as I spent more and more time getting ready because I liked some boy at mutual. We got a little bit older and I started going to church dances. This was the hardest separation yet. I didn't even want to go to dances without my younger sister. And she didn't want me to leave. We had always done fun things together. But, I went to dances with my older brother and he taught me how to dance. It was a good time for me. I started learning more about myself as a young woman and no longer a little girl. Caitie was starting to develop crushes. Holding hands was a big deal back then. :)
I remember one time that is very special to me. Caitie and I have always shared a room (except for the two years I went to college before her). This time was no exception. As we were laying in bed, Caitie was struggling with something. I don't remember what exactly. I put my arms around her and started singing-hoping it would console her. "Walk tall, you're a daughter, a child of God. Be strong, please remember who you are. Try to understand, you're part of His great plan. He's closer than you know. Reach up. He'll take your hand." By the end of the song, we both had tears streaming down our faces. Love isn't a strong enough word to describe the feeling we had in the room that night.
Years past and we moved from Montana to Ohio. I was 16 and Caitie was 14. The move was hard for all of us. But, we determined to make the best of it. Right away, Caitie had several admirers. I suppose all 3 of us younger children had admirers/friends right away. We became the "flavor of the month" as someone once said. Caitie had boys write her songs and poems and perform them for her. Boys came to help her paint the house-hoping through service they could win her affections. This has been the story of her life ever since. :)
All three of us younger children began karate lessons after we moved there. This was hard. Not so much for Caitie or Nathaniel. But it was for me. I didn't like hitting people. :) Our teacher was adamant that we hit to punch-none of this hitting a foot away from the person to make sure it doesn't hit them. If they got hit, it was their fault for not defending carefully. One night the 3 of us went to sparring night. The teacher put on loud, offensive music (to fit the mood) and put us each with partners. Caitie and I are similar sizes, so he put us together. We began hitting each other. Every time I hit her or she hit me, we started to cry. I was 16 and she was 14. We would fight each other with tears streaming down our faces. We weren't crying because it hurt physically. We were crying because it hurt our spirits to hit each other. It was traumatic. I didn't cry when I hit anyone else (except for Nathaniel).
About a year after we moved to Ohio, I started dating someone. Here was another change I couldn't make with Caitie. She was very patient with me through the whole ordeal. As I spent more time with my boyfriend, she spent more time with our youngest brother. She watched me struggle through my first boyfriend. And right after dating him, starting to date someone else. She dated lots of different boys throughout this time. I went to college right after that. Another change.
The first 2 years of college were hard for me. I hadn't been to public school since 3rd grade. I had never lived away from home except for EFY every summer. I became depressed. I lost who I was. I longed to feel the peace and comfort I had felt when I was a little girl playing in the fields with my siblings. Finally, Caitie decided to come to school with me. She helped me remember who I was. She helped me to see my strengths. She helped me to realize that Heavenly Father loves all of His children-including me. All of the little things that were such a part of me when I was little had been lost. Caitie helped me find them again. She helps me every day to remember a little more of who I am and who I can become. I am so grateful for her. I truly am blessed to not only be her friend, but to be her sister. Happy birthday my dear, dear sister. I love you ever so much.
"Sisters don't need words. They have perfected a language of snarls and smiles and frowns and winks... expressions of shocked surprise and incredulity and disbelief. Sniffs and snorts and gasps and sighs... that can undermine any tale you're telling." -Pam Brown
It was a joke... really
This might become a rambling blog entry. I just finished half of a crazy-hard final. The final was supposed to take 50 minutes. It took 1 1/2 hours. At the beginning of class an older woman who was taking the class brought in donuts to make the test a little more enjoyable. It was a worthy effort. It just didn't work. It was a music theory test. It was one of the most difficult tests I have ever taken. And that's only the first half! I'm in second-semester music theory. The tests are not supposed to be that difficult.
Sitting there in the hallway after we were kicked out of our room, you could feel the anger of all the students at our teacher. He's a grad student from some other university. I think he thinks that in order to feel like he's a good teacher, he needs to give us insanely difficult tests that are even harder than the tests that the typical music faculty give! That helps him to validate himself and feel important. One girl handed in her test and the only thing she said to him was ,"you're awful". One professor walked by and made a small joke. Everyone looked at him... more like stared at him. Not one laugh sounded, not one word was said, not even one smile was cracked. Finally the professor said, "It was a joke... really." We then could give him a small smile, grateful that he made the attempt at humor.
After I handed in my test, several of my friends and I went to lunch. We were still fuming about the test and how ridiculously hard it was. After we finished fuming, we determined one thing. We were grateful for it. We realized that next semester theory will be that much easier because this class was more difficult than it should have been. Anyway, it was an attempt at a positive attitute!
Sitting there in the hallway after we were kicked out of our room, you could feel the anger of all the students at our teacher. He's a grad student from some other university. I think he thinks that in order to feel like he's a good teacher, he needs to give us insanely difficult tests that are even harder than the tests that the typical music faculty give! That helps him to validate himself and feel important. One girl handed in her test and the only thing she said to him was ,"you're awful". One professor walked by and made a small joke. Everyone looked at him... more like stared at him. Not one laugh sounded, not one word was said, not even one smile was cracked. Finally the professor said, "It was a joke... really." We then could give him a small smile, grateful that he made the attempt at humor.
After I handed in my test, several of my friends and I went to lunch. We were still fuming about the test and how ridiculously hard it was. After we finished fuming, we determined one thing. We were grateful for it. We realized that next semester theory will be that much easier because this class was more difficult than it should have been. Anyway, it was an attempt at a positive attitute!
Friday, April 07, 2006
Some inspiring words
Things that Never Die
The pure, the bright,
The beautiful that stirred our hearts in youth.
The impulses to wordless prayer,
The streams of love and truth,
The longing after something lost,
The spirit's yearning cry,
The striving after better hopes,
These things can never die
The timid hand stretched forth to aid a sister in her need,
A kindly word in grief's dark hour that proves a friend indeed;
The plea for mercy softly breathed,
When justice threatens high,
The sorrow of a contrite heart;
These things shall never die
Let nothing pass, for every hand must find some work to do,
Lose not a chance to waken love;
Be firm and just and true,
So shall a light that cannot fade beam on thee from on high,
And angel voices say to thee;
These things can never die
~Charles Dickens
Good Quote
I heard a great quote today.
"The Lord didn't do it all in one day. What makes me think I can?"
That probably means that you do a little bit every day and not wait until the last minute so you have to do it all in one day. Hmm... Good lesson.
"The Lord didn't do it all in one day. What makes me think I can?"
That probably means that you do a little bit every day and not wait until the last minute so you have to do it all in one day. Hmm... Good lesson.
The oddest quartet
For the past week, I have had a huge project due in my Music Theory class. We were to write a four-part harmony and then transpose the parts to different instruments (including an E-flat saxophone). I began my first draft and when I heard the melody I wrote, I realized it sounded like the kind of song you would hear when there's a creepy ghost in a movie or something. I decided to revise it.
I wrote the first draft a week ago and didn't have time to revise it until this morning. :) Seeing as how it was due at 12:00, starting it this morning wasn't the best idea, but it worked. I finished the whole piece 10 minutes before class started. I walked into class and our "string quartet + 1" was there. We were going to have 2 violinists, a cellist, and a saxophonist. The problem was that one of the violinists did not show up for class. The class began brainstorming about how we would hear the second part. One girl said she could sing it. Another suggested playing it on the piano. But, my favorite was when my good friend from my elementary music ed class piped in, "I can play it on the recorder!" I laughed. I've never heard a quartet made up of violin, recorder, cello and saxophone. And I must say it is one of the most unique sounds I have ever heard. When everyone began tuning, they had to tune to the recorder. Can you imagine having a symphony tune to a recorder? It was very amusing.
The composition went well. I conducted the quartet and felt good about the performance. Mostly, it just feels good to have that composition out of the way.
I wrote the first draft a week ago and didn't have time to revise it until this morning. :) Seeing as how it was due at 12:00, starting it this morning wasn't the best idea, but it worked. I finished the whole piece 10 minutes before class started. I walked into class and our "string quartet + 1" was there. We were going to have 2 violinists, a cellist, and a saxophonist. The problem was that one of the violinists did not show up for class. The class began brainstorming about how we would hear the second part. One girl said she could sing it. Another suggested playing it on the piano. But, my favorite was when my good friend from my elementary music ed class piped in, "I can play it on the recorder!" I laughed. I've never heard a quartet made up of violin, recorder, cello and saxophone. And I must say it is one of the most unique sounds I have ever heard. When everyone began tuning, they had to tune to the recorder. Can you imagine having a symphony tune to a recorder? It was very amusing.
The composition went well. I conducted the quartet and felt good about the performance. Mostly, it just feels good to have that composition out of the way.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Baleeted, delteated, del taco?
Today I have a 10-page paper due. I finished 6 pages of it last night and this morning I woke up at 6:00 to finish the paper before my class began. When I finished the 10th page, I pushed a link in Microsoft Word that ended up doing something very strange to my paper. It wasn't what I wanted so I clicked the red X at the top right-hand corner. Did I want to save the changes? The computer asked me. Of course not, I decided. So I clicked no. Away went my paper. Away went 3 more hours of typing. Hmm... I thought. I don't think this is what is supposed to happen right now.
I went immediately to the nice young men at the help desk and told them what happened. They looked at each other with a knowing glance. The glance wasn't a very optimistic glance. I had a twinge of concern enter my heart. One of the young men came over to my computer and after a going through a series of search engines, he looked at me and shook his head. I'm sorry I couldn't help, he said. Me too... me too. Too bad I'm not more like Homestarrunner. Who when receiving an email he did not like, tried to delete it. It would not disappear. Sometimes I wish I were a cartoon... :)
http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail50.html
I went immediately to the nice young men at the help desk and told them what happened. They looked at each other with a knowing glance. The glance wasn't a very optimistic glance. I had a twinge of concern enter my heart. One of the young men came over to my computer and after a going through a series of search engines, he looked at me and shook his head. I'm sorry I couldn't help, he said. Me too... me too. Too bad I'm not more like Homestarrunner. Who when receiving an email he did not like, tried to delete it. It would not disappear. Sometimes I wish I were a cartoon... :)
http://www.homestarrunner.com/sbemail50.html
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Steak Dinners
I have two roommates who recently got engaged. This is very exciting and both of their fiance's are perfect for them! I just wanted to write a quick congratulations to both of them!!!
Conference Weekend
What an incredible weekend I had!! I performed in General Conference Saturday afternoon. I even got shown on the TV once! It was definitely an unforgettable experience. It was great for my family because they had someone to watch for in every conference session. My brother, Josh, is in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir (MOTAB) and they performed in 3 of the 5 sessions. I performed in 1 of the 5 and Caitie's friend performed in the Priesthood session. I've always wondered what it was like for the MOTAB to have 20,000 people singing at them from the congregation. I must say, that was my favorite part. The congregational hymn was absolutely amazing. Yay for singing in choirs. I love it!
Caitlin and Emilie's
Here is the long-awaited story. I'm actually just postponing my homework by writing this, but whatever works, right? Here goes.
Last week Women's Chorus had a concert. I felt it my duty to go around my ward and invite several people that I thought would appreciate it. My sister was kind enough to accompany me on the outing. We walked up some stairs and knocked on a door that we thought was 97... in actuality it was 99. I got nervous after we knocked and suggested we run-as we did not know the occupants of the apartment. Caitie, being the more sensible of the two, told me to come back and not be nervous. The door opened and some very kind young men invited us in to chat and sit on their couch. They asked us our names. "I'm Caitlin and this is Emilie." My sister answered. "What ward are you in?" They queeried. "149th". "Are you the Caitlin and Emilie from the 149th ward?" "Umm I suppose so. I don't think anyone else in our ward is named that." "It can't be you! You guys are famous in our ward. Wait... do you have a bulldog?"
As you can imagine this was starting to become a little disconcerting to Caitlin and myself as we had no idea what these boys were talking about. What have we done that could possibly make us famous in a ward we've never even visited before? The conversation continued, "Yes. we have a bulldog." "Was it ever stolen?" "Yes!!! What is going on here? Please tell us before we go mad." "We can't tell you." At this point the boys were blushing and laughing at the same time. "Yes... you MUST tell us." We replied. They told us to relate the story of our bulldog being stolen from our point of view. We told them what happened:
Over the summer, we had a bulldog on the hood of our truck. It was a hood ornament and we named him Stu-boy. One morning I woke up and went out to the truck. To my dismay, the bulldog was gone and in its' place was a ransome note for strawberry cheesecake or else the bulldog would suffer humiliation. I was saddened by this note. I was quite attached to Stu-boy. Caitie and I kept trying to figure out who it was that stole the bulldog. Finally, we figured it out and after delivering the cheesecake, we had our dear Stu-boy returned to his rightful place on our truck.
The boys started laughing again at this point saying the story they heard is a little bit different. This is what they relayed.
Either Caitie or I had a relationship with one of the boys involved in the dognapping. When the boy tried to kiss one of us, we denied him and he got upset. So upset, that he stole the dog off the truck with a ransome note telling us to kiss him. When we refused, he made little whitie-tities (white underwear-for those who may not know) for the dog and wrote on them "Caitlin and Emilie, 149th ward". The boy also put whitie-tities on and was dancing in his bedroom with the dog and both sets of underwear when his buddies from this other ward walked in and asked him what in the world he was doing. He sat down, embarrassed.
At this point, Caitie and I burst out in laughter. That's a very outragous story, I said. They boys continued laughing and blushing and said that was not all. They had made up a song to the story and also no longer referred to whitie-tities as whitie-tities. They were now called Caitlin and Emilie's. They said it was around several guys' apartments. They would go to a basketball game and say things like, "Dude, your Caitlin and Emilie's are showing", or, "Hey... ya got your Caitlin and Emilie's on?" The boys then performed a song and dance they had made up about Caitlin and Emilie's.
I really think it was one of the most modnar experiences I have had. I'm kind of nervous that the part about the underwear could be true. And because of that, I refuse to ask the guys who stole the dog if it is. There are some bits of information I would just rather not know. If you know what I mean...
Last week Women's Chorus had a concert. I felt it my duty to go around my ward and invite several people that I thought would appreciate it. My sister was kind enough to accompany me on the outing. We walked up some stairs and knocked on a door that we thought was 97... in actuality it was 99. I got nervous after we knocked and suggested we run-as we did not know the occupants of the apartment. Caitie, being the more sensible of the two, told me to come back and not be nervous. The door opened and some very kind young men invited us in to chat and sit on their couch. They asked us our names. "I'm Caitlin and this is Emilie." My sister answered. "What ward are you in?" They queeried. "149th". "Are you the Caitlin and Emilie from the 149th ward?" "Umm I suppose so. I don't think anyone else in our ward is named that." "It can't be you! You guys are famous in our ward. Wait... do you have a bulldog?"
As you can imagine this was starting to become a little disconcerting to Caitlin and myself as we had no idea what these boys were talking about. What have we done that could possibly make us famous in a ward we've never even visited before? The conversation continued, "Yes. we have a bulldog." "Was it ever stolen?" "Yes!!! What is going on here? Please tell us before we go mad." "We can't tell you." At this point the boys were blushing and laughing at the same time. "Yes... you MUST tell us." We replied. They told us to relate the story of our bulldog being stolen from our point of view. We told them what happened:
Over the summer, we had a bulldog on the hood of our truck. It was a hood ornament and we named him Stu-boy. One morning I woke up and went out to the truck. To my dismay, the bulldog was gone and in its' place was a ransome note for strawberry cheesecake or else the bulldog would suffer humiliation. I was saddened by this note. I was quite attached to Stu-boy. Caitie and I kept trying to figure out who it was that stole the bulldog. Finally, we figured it out and after delivering the cheesecake, we had our dear Stu-boy returned to his rightful place on our truck.
The boys started laughing again at this point saying the story they heard is a little bit different. This is what they relayed.
Either Caitie or I had a relationship with one of the boys involved in the dognapping. When the boy tried to kiss one of us, we denied him and he got upset. So upset, that he stole the dog off the truck with a ransome note telling us to kiss him. When we refused, he made little whitie-tities (white underwear-for those who may not know) for the dog and wrote on them "Caitlin and Emilie, 149th ward". The boy also put whitie-tities on and was dancing in his bedroom with the dog and both sets of underwear when his buddies from this other ward walked in and asked him what in the world he was doing. He sat down, embarrassed.
At this point, Caitie and I burst out in laughter. That's a very outragous story, I said. They boys continued laughing and blushing and said that was not all. They had made up a song to the story and also no longer referred to whitie-tities as whitie-tities. They were now called Caitlin and Emilie's. They said it was around several guys' apartments. They would go to a basketball game and say things like, "Dude, your Caitlin and Emilie's are showing", or, "Hey... ya got your Caitlin and Emilie's on?" The boys then performed a song and dance they had made up about Caitlin and Emilie's.
I really think it was one of the most modnar experiences I have had. I'm kind of nervous that the part about the underwear could be true. And because of that, I refuse to ask the guys who stole the dog if it is. There are some bits of information I would just rather not know. If you know what I mean...
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