Sunday, June 17, 2012

Quelle semaine!

This week I had finals for my spring classes. For my history class, we were given nine essay questions to study, and then we would be given three on the open-book test (three hours) and would have to write two of the essays. Since I did so poorly on the midterm, I really had to study for this test. I decided that I would take the essay questions and dump information from my notes and readings into documents until I made them sufficiently long--basically, write a sloppy essay for each question and refine it during the actual test time. This meant that I would write nine essays. I only ended up writing seven before the test. One of the questions that I got on the exam was actually one that I didn't write an outline for, but I decided to write it. I was able to write  it from scratch because I had written all the others. The other one I did was on Mao Zedong. My other option was the Cold War, but I didn't have enough information on it to write a good essay.

I am so glad that stupid class is over. BYU asks for student ratings, and you rate the class and the instructor on a scale ranging from "Very Strongly Disagree" to "Very Strongly Agree." There was only one question on which I checked the "Agree" side. Then in the comments, I vented my frustrations--that I did all the readings and attended the classes but felt destined to fail; that the quizzes tested us on mere minutia, stuff only a history major would need to know; that there was no length specified on the exam yet I got a poor grade because it wasn't long enough, even though I felt I answered the question. Then I added a final jab: "This class has reinforced my general distrust of historians." No longer will I have to hear the professor's various and sundry instances of saying "various and sundry." That professor should have retired a long time ago--he was in college during the Cuban Missile Crisis, for crying out loud!

Because I had to spend so much time studying for history, I wasn't able to spend enough time working on my Print Publishing portfolio. It got finished, but it was very sloppy. On Wednesday (after my history final) I had to get my book printed as a saddle-stitch book. So I went to the JFSB, but their color saddle-stitch machine was broken. So then I went to the Cougar Copy Center just south of campus by where I live. Their machine was broken. So then I went to Cougar Creations in the Wilk. Their printer was having problems so they couldn't get the cover to print with everything else, which meant that I had to staple the cover on. But they made me, an inexperienced stapler, staple it with a stapler that wasn't meant for the job, which resulted in bent staples and a generally sloppy appearance. It took me an hour to get a sloppy book. Oh well. Then I finished up my portfolio, which was not very good. But I was relieved to have it done. That night I went with some people and got shaved ice, which is in season.

Spring term was basically over, except that the next day I had to go on a tour of the University Press Building. It kind of reminded me of my Distribution job--same noises, same materials, same boxes--and it made me a little sad that I won't be there again for a while, if ever. But it's probably a case of absence making the heart grow fonder.

Then I walked home down 900 East, which is part of my old running route. It made me a bit sad, because I don't know the next time I'll be able to run again, because of my knee.

But then spring term was really over! Spring term is shorter than winter semester, but a lot of spring events seem like a long time ago. It was the night before classes started that I had my accident. During spring term, I recovered from my injuries, drove to Rite-Aid (while listening to Neon Trees' new album) to buy bandaging supplies and also ended up buying Reese's eggs for my roommate, got new glasses, used my GPS for the first time, got the lowest test grade I've ever gotten, bought new shirts, made several new friends, and, of course, got a job.

Despite the best persuasive efforts of some people, I decided to forgo attending my ward's boating trip. There were several reasons for doing this: My mom wanted to see me before she went out of town; my car needed repairs; I needed to see my dad before Father's Day, since it would be easier to attend my mission reunion on my way back to Provo instead of making several trips; I dislike sunlight; and I would have felt uncomfortable spending that much time with that many people.

On Thursday evening my family took me to get some Fourth of July goodies. I have sadly discovered that this year there are no "Summer" Animal Cookies and no Patriotic Dots. I thought that things were at least staying even, since I was able to get patriotic Oreos and patriotic "Rainbow" Keebler cookies--but it turns out that at least the Keebler cookies are made only because of the Olympics. Which really doesn't make sense to me, because I would think people would be more likely to buy patriotic cookies for the Fourth of July than for the Olympics. Whatever. Another newcomer this year to the Fourth of July candy scene is Blo-Pops, but I don't really like them that much anyway.

It was a nice evening that night, so I decided to jump on the trampoline. We got that tramp (our nickname for trampoline is tramp--I don't know if that's widespread or not) for Christmas in 1989, when I was just one. I obviously don't remember my first time on it, but there is old family video footage of my sister playing with me on it on that December 25. I was just jumping on it Thursday night when suddenly the springs made a weird noise, and the trampoline mat split right down the middle! It was as if someone had instantly torn a giant piece of cloth. There was no warning--it just split from one end to the other all of a sudden. My niece was watching, and she said, "Oh no! The tramp's dead!" It was dusk, so I was going to wait until the morning to get a picture of the torn tramp.

But when I got up the next morning, my dad had already dissembled it. And I felt like my childhood officially ended right there. I have so many memories--bouncing around apricots, grapes, and chokecherries; playing "Crack the egg," "Steamroller," "Corners," and other such games; putting the sprinkler underneath on hot summer days; getting my feet and knees absolutely filthy; breaking my arm twice--Ahh, childhood.

On Friday we took my grandparents to lunch for Father's Day, after a big ordeal with getting my car to approve inspection. And after all that I forgot to bring the registration back with me. Oh well. I'll be going back up in a week and a half to see my nephews, who will be visiting.

On Saturday I went to a mission reunion. My mission president had asked me to help get the word out. I made a Facebook event, and I was surprised at how many people attended all because of the page I created! The Clarks (my mission president and his wife) always have books with pictures of all the missionaries. I'm always amused by my transfer board picture:



Then I came home and I had to check the mail. It came! The surprise I mentioned last week about Jan Terri--it came! I had come across a website in which someone commented that they contacted Jan Terri via Facebook and she sent her copies of her CDs. So I followed a link to Jan Terri's Facebook and asked where I could buy her CDs. So she sent me burned copies of her three CDs, as well as an autographed picture of her. I'm especially excited to have new holiday songs. I now have an extra song for Halloween
and two for Christmas 
  .

Tomorrow I start summer classes. I'm taking two religion classes and a French class. I'm a bit nervous. First of all, it's the first time I've taken three classes during a term (as opposed to a semester). Also, I haven't had French for two years, and this class is the Advanced Grammar class, which is what the French-speaking RMs take. I'll be at the bottom of the class! My dad seems to disapprove of me taking this class because he worries I won't use it and because he worries it could lower my GPA. He told me I could take physics. But physics would actually prove less useful to me (as long as I'm just a geology minor) and would be more likely to lower my GPA!

J'espère que je reçois une bonne note!  (I'm sure I just butchered that. :(  )

2 comments:

  1. Mark, while I sympathize with the knee injury, I think this is a great opportunity to consider taking up a great replacement activity -- biking! I have bad knees, and can't run more than a couple of miles without them becoming very painful for the next several days, but biking is a great exercise that doesn't hurt my knees. I prefer mountain biking because it is more scenic, and can provide more of an adrenaline rush, although road biking may be a closer match to running in terms of convenience and geography.

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  2. Apparently my comment about biking posted as "unknown." However, since I disapprove of internet anonymity, I think I ought to identify myself. -- David Christensen

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