Short week

I had a lot go on this week.

On Monday, I didn't work. Thank you, Dr. King, for a day off. Oh, and for all the civil rights activism too.

On Tuesday, I was amused by this Google search. I didn't find what I was looking for that day, but on Friday I found it in a book. No thanks to Google.

On Wednesday, a guy I home taught, Donald, was moving out, so I went to their pad for a going-away party.

On Thursday, I helped out with a ward activity where we tutor high school students from a Tongan neighborhood. I helped a girl with her math. It took me a while to figure out what to do, but eventually I got it. I think it was algebra 2, and I haven't had that for ten years. However, I was pretty good at that; I was picked as one of the students of the month from the math department. My last math class was college calculus, five years ago, and I wasn't very good at it. By "wasn't very good," I mean I got a B+, which to me is almost failing. My last class involving math was groundwater, a year and a half ago. I'm not a math person, so I felt bad for the girl I was tutoring because it took me a while to get back in the math groove. But I got it eventually.

When I got back home, at about 9:00 p.m., my boss called me, because he had some sudden things he needed me to look at.

On Friday morning, I went to a meeting where Reid Neilson, my boss, became a new assistant Church historian. He had called me the night before so I could look over some press items, so I was one of the few people who knew it before it happened. The official press release has some of my fingerprints on it, as I told him that it's perfectly acceptable to end a sentence with a preposition. He deserves this new title, as he is very smart and is the nicest boss I've ever had.

Then I had game nights on both Friday and Saturday.

Hmm. My week seemed a lot more interesting when I was actually experiencing it, rather than when I was writing it. Sorry about that.

Incoherent thoughts

The other day I was thinking about the months of the year, and how they all have their pros and cons. Even January has its good things. But I couldn't really think of anything bad about October. Other months may have better pros than October, but October doesn't have any cons.

January may be full of freezing temperatures, ice, smog, and the end of a holiday season. But it does have New Year's Day for one day, and it has a day off in the form of Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and it has the beginning of heart-shaped candy season. But all things considered, those aren't very good things comparatively.

My recent research for work has led me to read a lot about Amasa Lyman--who was an early Apostle, was mentioned in the Doctrine and Covenants, came west, helped settle San Bernardino, CA, was excommunicated, and became a Godbeite. What blows my mind about all this is that he is my ancestor and is buried in the same cemetery as my grandparents, which is the cemetery in which my parents will be buried. I have seen his tombstone!

I'm always learning new things. Today, we think of pioneers as those people who came across the plains between 1847 and 1869, when the transcontinental railroad was completed. But for those pioneers, they didn't all consider themselves pioneers. To them, only those who came in 1847 were pioneers, which was only a few hundred. I also learned this week that only 4 percent of all the pioneers came via handcarts.

This week I went with my grandparents to see the play The Miracle Worker. Whenever I see things like that, I want to know how much of it is true and how many dramatic liberties they took. But the overall story is true, and it is an amazing story indeed.

I guess I don't really have that much to say about the week. That's January for you!

CHL adventures

At my work at the Church History Library, I have my own cubicle. Almost all the cubicles around me are occupied by senior missionaries. And since they're just cubicles, I hear all of their quirks. One Canadian sister always says interesting things--like when she disliked a picture of herself and said, "My mouth's so wide, I look like I'm about to swallow a turkey!" One old man always answers the phone by saying "Good morning," even if it's 4:00 in the afternoon. And someone in a more distant cubicle has the loudest, most terrifying sneezes. And it's never just one or two sneezes. Once I counted nine sneezes in a row!

If I need to consult a reference book, I can request for the item to be delivered to my desk. But sometimes that can take a while, so sometimes it's easier to go down into the part of the library that is open to the public. (Most items in the library are ones people can see, but they keep them secure to minimize damage.) This week, I was doing a lot of research, so I took my laptop to work so that I could work down in the library.

In the library, there are lots of soft chairs and some computer stations where Temple Square missionaries do their emailing. There are also eight or so tables, each with four chairs, where researchers and others can do their work.

This week, twice I was astonished by some strange actions of old men. I had left my laptop on one of the tables while I was up looking for books. (That may not be the wisest, but I don't really worry about it getting stolen, because we don't get much riff-raff coming into the library. It's 85 percent missionaries and 13 percent scholars and 1 percent families.) When I came back to the table, an old man was sitting right next to my stuff at the table. They could have sat kitty corner from me at the table. Or they could have sat at a different table, since there were several empty tables. But no, out of all the places they could have sat, they picked right next to me. I wasn't so annoyed that they were next to me; I just thought it was weird they did that. And it was especially weird that two different people did the exact same thing.

With the drab post-holiday letdown upon us, I have been thinking ahead six months. This year, I plan to do a trial run of formally celebrating Pioneer Day. I often watch fireworks or parades, but I don't formally celebrate it like I do the other eight holidays. I have toyed with this idea for years, but this will be the first year I try it out. Doing all this research on the early days of Utah has given me a greater appreciation for the pioneers. But there's another, silly reason. One of the obstacles has been that outside of bonnets and covered wagons, there aren't many icons for Pioneer Day; and without icons, it's hard to decorate and have seasonal treats; and without decorations and seasonal treats, it's hard to formally celebrate. Some people have used leftover patriotic (red, white, and blue) items for the Twenty-Fourth of July. But I have always rejected this notion--after all, it's a Utah holiday, not a national holiday, and the pioneers were leaving the United States. But in all my recent studies, I have learned that the pioneers themselves, the ones who invented the holiday and the ones we honor, used American flags and such in their celebrations--long before statehood and even before official territorial status. Thus, if the pioneers themselves had patriotic images, then we should too, and thus it will make celebrating a little easier. I'm brainstorming how I will make the Twenty-Fourth distinct from, but still similar to, the Fourth of July.

I've learned that the 1849 gold-seekers were so sick of eating bacon and other things that they were craving vegetables once they got to Utah and were eager to trade things for fresh vegetables. They must have been really desperate, because I can never imagine craving vegetables.

I also learned this week that in 1850, Brigham Young weighed 182 pounds. So my goal is to follow the prophet in 1850 and get back down to 182. (A few Christmases have refused to leave my body.)

Christmas and New Year's found me home

Well, another Christmas and New Year have come and gone. (I didn't write about Christmas last week because I was doing my year in review.) It was a really nice break. I think I have the nicest boss in the world, and he was out of town, so he let me decide what I wanted to do. I decided to only work some of the days and only work partial days. It means I won't get paid as well for the last two weeks, but I'm fine with that.

On December 22, since I was only working a partial day, I went into work late, because it just so happened that my ward was having its Christmas party downtown. Thus, if I was at work, I would already be downtown and wouldn't have to go far. They had a bell choir, which was definitely better than the bagpipes my home ward did for their Christmas party back in 2009.

I worked on December 23, but I didn't work on Christmas Eve. Instead, it was a day of cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and ginger. I made wassail by putting apple juice, orange juice, a cinnamon stick, some whole cloves, and a sprinkling of nutmeg in a slow cooker. I used a horrible gingerbread recipe. It said to use half a cup of water, but it didn't say what to do with it. Well, I added the water, and it made it entirely runny. When I baked it for the designated time, it completely burned it. I then added lots and lots of flour to get the consistency right again--and then the gingerbread turned out quite nicely. But it was no thanks to that deplorable recipe! I put frosting in a bag to decorate the cookies. The first one started out decent...

...but due to problems with the bag, they got progressively uglier.

(Go ahead, laugh. I won't be offended. That's why I put them here.)

Christmas Day was a snowy day--the first really snowy day of the season, although we had had some snow in November. It was safe enough for relatives to come over. We got to Skype with my cousin Quin who is on a mission. Because I have always liked polar regions, I got some polar animal-themed gifts. I got an oven mitt and hot pad with walrus pictures on them, a walrus ice cream scoop, and a narwhal screwdriver. (I'm just happy that such a thing exists!) I also got a Nightmare before Christmas Monopoly game, in which some of the properties include the towns of Thanksgiving, Easter, St. Patrick's Day, and Valentine's Day. (They left out Fourth of July Town, but you only see that door very briefly in the movie.)

I didn't work the day after Christmas, even though I could have. Relatives came over again on December 27, and we played the Pictionary/Telephone game. It was fun, but it's funner with college-age people.

On December 28, President Eyring was visiting my ward again, and since there was extra time, he spoke to us again. He told us about his marriage, and if he was a "menace to society," it makes me feel better. (BTW, I don't know why we talk about the "menace" thing, because I don't think that was ever really said. An apocryphal story indeed.)

On December 29, it seemed snowy, and fortunately I had saved my work in Dropbox, so I was able to work from home rather than drive downtown. On December 30, the news talked about how windy it was and how that was causing a lot of accidents. The Davis County sheriff was on the news saying, "If you can stay home, do." If the sheriff tells me to stay home, I won't argue with him--although I probably could have safely left, since the wind problems were further north. While I was sitting in the living room doing my work, I was startled when an enormous group of birds began flying around the house. You remember in Mary Poppins when she shakes the snow globe and lots of birds fly around? That's what it felt like. It literally looked like a snowstorm of birds. The birds came around a second time, and I was able to get some footage on my phone.

On the last day of 2014, I went into the office for work, after stopping in at the Salt Lake Temple across the street. It was the first time I ever worked on New Year's Eve in my life. I had a rather uneventful New Year's Eve.

Then on New Year's Day, I was able to get an invigorating start to 2015 by going running on Bountiful Boulevard, the first full run I had had since before Thanksgiving.

Then January 2, I was back to a full work day. And the holidays were all over.

I guess it's good that the year starts in January, because then it can only get better. January has exceedingly cold temperatures, smog, ice, and after New Year's, no real holidays. What a horrible month.

2014, a mixed bag

Well, this is the post I think about all year, in which I remember everything that happened over the course of the last twelve months.

And what an unusual year it has been, with graduation, jobs, trips (of both the vacation and injury variety), and more. I'll let the months speak for themselves.

January. I began my final semester at BYU, taking a fairly easy load. I worked at my BYU Studies internship for credit. I also helped out on some student journals, Schwa (linguistics) and Chiasm (neuroscience) for credit. I took beginning weight training and a weekly geology seminar. I took an unusual class called the Publishing Industry, which only met once a week and had guest speakers, some of them local authors like Brandon Mull and Brandon Sanderson. My most intensive class was French 322, Advanced French 2, which I took with my roommate Jordan. We had to deal with new apartment management, which led to us having our power cut off one night. We had to walk around with flashlights, which cast interesting shadows.

February. What a crazy month. I got a little annoyed with some Facebook fads:

After applying for a job with the Joseph Smith Papers in January, I went to Salt Lake and interviewed, but I didn't get the job. On Valentine's Day, I went home to visit. When I got home, my mom told me that my dad had fainted at work and had had to go to the ER. In celebration of the day, we got Papa Murphy's pizza, and my mom was carrying it downstairs when she misstepped on the bottom step and broke her leg. Well, she didn't just break it. She massacred it. I tried not to look, but I could tell that her foot was not at the angle it was supposed to be. One of her bones was shattered; the other was intact, but it detached from all the ligaments and broke through the skin. I had to clean up the blood. I still have not seen the gory picture my sister took. I don't need to. The following week, I got a call from Reid Neilson, the managing director of the Church History Department, who had received my resume from the JSP. He wanted to hire me as his editorial assistant intern, and I accepted. I therefore had to quit working for BYU Studies.

March. I began official work for Reid. I began to see the joys of trail running, and on March 14, I got my wisdom teeth out. They were already sticking out, so it was a very uneventful procedure. All I had to do was have some gauze for a few hours. Apparently the only image I have from the month of March is one where I was amused that Jeffrey R. Holland had more Facebook likes than the other Apostles.

April. On the day after Easter, construction began on my family's basement. They tore down the old wallpaper and the flimsy ceiling and installed new lights. I went to my commencement and convocation meetings. After commencement, as I walked home in my cap and gown, thinking how I didn't have creative graduation pictures, I had a crazy idea. I had never hiked to the Y before, and here I was graduated. So what if I had my graduation pictures taken from the Y?

I was officially no longer a student. But my boss allowed me to keep working remotely through the rest of the summer, so I didn't have to move yet. My sweet-bro roommate Chad was replaced by an even bigger sweet-bro, Jon, who was rarely around. My roommate Scott at this point had decided he was too good for us, so Jordan was really my only roommate. (He hiked the Y with me.)

May. At Mother's Day, my sister's husband left them. My dad had to get a pacemaker after his Valentine's Day fainting spell. But besides these unfortunate events, May was an outdoorsy month! I fell in love with The National Parks after seeing them at Provo's Rooftop Concert. I began running to Rock Canyon; there I could identify the Mineral Fork Tillite, Tintic Quartzite, and Maxfield Limestone. Memorial Day weekend, I went to Yellowstone National Park with my grandparents, aunts and cousins. We stayed in a nice little rented cabin, and we saw six bears. I made a little joke that stopping to take pictures of buffalo in Yellowstone is like taking pictures of cactuses in the desert, so we began calling buffalos cactuses.
The following weekend, my Provo ward went to Capitol Reef National Park. The other car in our caravan hit a deer on the way there, so they had to turn around. Capitol Reef is probably Utah's least famous national park, even though it may be its best.

June. At the beginning of the month, I went to another Rooftop Concert. On a rainy, unseasonably cold day, I drove up to Salt Lake for my cousin Quin's setting apart for a mission--he was the first person to go on a mission from that side of the family since I got home. That week my family headed to California to visit my nephews and their parents. We met them in Lassen Volcanic National Park. I only got one hilarious, unflattering picture of all three nephews at the same time:

We then went to Mount Shasta before going to my brother's apartment in the Bay Area. We visited several other places in California, including Big Basin Redwood State Park, Fitzgerald Marine Reserve's tidal pools, a Petrified Forest, and the Charles M. Schulz Museum. On all these trips, Franklin (6) and Nathaniel (4) enjoyed asking me questions that got continually more bizarre, culminating in "What was your favorite leaf when you were a little baby?" My dad, sister, and I drove home, leaving my mom and niece in California. I had to prepare for my apartment to get painted.

July. My nephews, niece, mom, and sister-in-law and her niece came in from California just in time to celebrate the Fourth of July. Did you see the above link to Reid Neilson's Wikipedia page? I made it in July. My apartment got all out of order from the painting, but I was gone from it a lot. I would go to my apartment on the weekends but spend time at home, visiting my nephews, during the week. On one occasion, I prevented Ya-ping's niece from going out in public wearing a shirt that said "Pervert." Nathaniel loved telling us about his hundreds of moms and dads, who lived in a variety of houses, including jello and candy houses. I was released from my calling as ward clerk, and on a weekend when the rest of my family went to Yellowstone without me (since there wasn't any more room in the vehicle), I climbed Mount Timpanogos with my Provo ward.

Being afraid of heights and not in as good of shape as I thought, I don't have a great need to hike Timp again. My nephews left the day after Pioneer Day, and I returned to Provo. But they were doing more renovations on our apartment, so Jordan and I had to stay in a hotel for a week (they paid for our stay there). The timing worked out nicely, because that was a time when I needed to work in BYU's Harold B. Lee Library.

August. On August 1, I went to a Cherie Call concert and my final Rooftop Concert. On August 2, we were allowed to move back in our apartment. There was an incredibly rainy day that caused a landslide in North Salt Lake, and I cooked up some fresh vegetables from the Jensen family (the first counselor in my Provo ward). My final fling in my Provo ward was a trip to our Bishop's cabin near Yellowstone. This trip was much more enjoyable than the one with my relatives because there was no bickering; we boated on a Montana lake and I went into the park twice (with different people). We attended the West Yellowstone ward. Then I had to leave Provo and the apartment where I had lived for more than two and a half years. I moved back home, and I got my own cubicle in the Church History Library, no longer working remotely. I began attending the North Park YSA Ward. At the end of the month, my parents and I took a trip up to Idaho to see where Lake Bonneville drained out.

September. On September 1, I went running by the North Salt Lake landslide (since it's not far from my house).

I also discovered the Wild Rose Trail for running, and I went to the Utah State Fair. I helped out with a service project for the North Park Ward (remodeling a house) the same week that my grandparents moved from Salt Lake to Centerville. We see them a lot more now that they are closer. At the end of the month, I turned 26 and therefore had to get health insurance.

October. I attended general conference in the Conference Center with my friend Emily, and also taught her third-graders about the Mesozoic Era. We also went to a Lower Lights concert. I viewed a partial solar eclipse and examined the springs in Warm Springs Park in northern Salt Lake (but not quite in North Salt Lake). My parents took me on a trip to Capitol Reef and Goblin Valley State Park, my first time visiting Goblin Valley.

I had a satisfying Halloween, listening to a Dracula audiobook and running on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail on a cool, spooky evening.

November. I had fun putting my Thanksgiving decorations out in the yard, even though I didn't really decorate for Thanksgiving. I didn't want to decorate because we weren't going to be home for Thanksgiving, since my parents and I were driving to California again to see my nephews for the holiday. It was an enjoyable trip, although I left my pumpkin pie dish (meaning a pie dish that looks like a pumpkin) there. The boys loved having us there, and Nathaniel especially seemed to like it. He loves climbing things, a hobby that made me a little nervous. 

We went to Six Flags and to the Point Reyes National Seashore.

December. I went to lots of Christmas events--first a work Christmas devotional/lunch, then four concerts: Cherie Call, Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Lower Lights, and Piano Guys. We simply had a wonderful Christmastime on a snowy December 25, and I got some awesomely random Christmas gifts.

"The unicorn of the sea helps at home."

I got to hear President Henry B. Eyring speak twice in my ward. It was an unusually warm and dry December until Christmas. 

I hope 2015 has no broken bones or broken relationships, but I would be just fine with new jobs and more trips!

Happy New Year!

The Modern Yuletide Carols

This has been a month of Christmas concerts. Earlier in the month I went to a Cherie Call Christmas concert and to the Tabernacle broadcast of the MoTab's Christmas concert.

This week, I went to two more Christmas concerts--The Lower Lights and the Piano Guys.

This year, the Lower Lights did seven Christmas concerts, each with a special guest. One of their guests was the National Parks, who I grew to like this spring, so I got tickets for that show. I went with my mom, sister, and niece. (Another guest this week was Neon Trees, disguised as "The Christmas Trees," but even though I knew who they were, we already had tickets for Piano Guys. Between National Parks and Neon Trees, I prefer the Parks; but I don't know who I'd pick between Neon Trees and Piano Guys.)

I was a little disappointed, because the National Parks only sang three songs, and it was very stripped down. They got to sing later with the Lower Lights, and they were, after all, not the main act. I own two of the songs they sang. They sang a new Christmas song--I don't own it because it's only available on a Provo Christmas CD, and I didn't feel like getting it if I don't live in Provo anymore.

The Lower Lights, as always, were great. They sang their Christmas songs and some songs from their latest album. There were about twenty of them total. They always put on a good show. I don't like most of the vocals by the men of the group, especially not Ryan Tanner, but they have a bunch of super-talented male instrumentalists, such as Ryan Tilby and Ryan Shupe. (I just had to make sure that I wasn't confusing their names; there really are that many Ryans!) The three primary female soloists, however, are great. Sarah Sample is good, but a little generic. Debra Fotheringham has a powerful voice and amazing range. When I went to see Cherie Call's CD release concert in March, I was sad to see Debra had a ring on her finger. And the last singer is Cherie Call, who is of course my favorite, but she's only my favorite when she's singing her own songs.


The Lower Lights concert was held at the Masonic temple, which was an interesting, intimate place. It was a far cry from where the Piano Guys concert was, at the Energy Solutions Arena, formerly known as the Delta Center. (Why'd they have to go and make the name twice as long?) The Piano Guys tickets had been purchased months ago, because my aunt and cousin from Delta wanted to go and invited me and my mom as well. At the beginning of the show, I was thinking it just didn't work--all I could hear was a muffled cacaphony; that music just didn't work in such a huge area. But then the sound guy woke up and it got better.

I find it strange that the Piano Guys filled such a huge arena. First of all, I think the Piano Guys are extremely talented, and their mashups are incredible, but I think they're a little overrated. There are lots of piano and cello virtuosos, although most of them aren't as creative. I'm surprised that classical-ish music can fill a stadium. (They sold concessions for the concert, but the beer stands were closed.) Second, I think it's weird Jon Schmidt has done world tours, when he's practically a neighbor, just living in Bountiful. He performed at several South Davis Junior High assemblies when I was there. I think he was on the high council in my YSA stake a few years ago. And last year at a Cherie Call concert on Temple Square, he was sitting right behind us.

I am glad that Alex Boyé didn't make an appearance, because I find him annoying. I feel like the Church uses him a lot to show we are diverse--but it's not diversity if you use the same person over and over.

Last year, Jan Terri released a new album called No Rules, which included her own version of "Ave Maria." She recorded it as a dance number because she had a voice instructor tell her it couldn't be done. Her music video of the song debuted yesterday. I put it on Facebook briefly, but then I took it down. With everyone sharing thoughtful videos to #ShareGoodness and #SharetheGift, I thought it would be in poor taste. Although the messages of peace and love in the video are the essence of the gospel, the half-naked Gabriel and the Mary and Joseph dance party are a little blasphemous. Sacrilege aside, it was a typical hilarious Jan Terri video--but I think the ridiculousness in this one was deliberate, unlike the others. (I also don't approve of the language in the scene after the credits, but no one seems to bat an eye when Taylor Swift sings it on the radio.)

One thing that bugs me about Christmas songs is the tradition of singing "Silent Night" at the end of meetings. I guess it may be the most peaceful Christmas song, but by no means is it the best. I like "It Came upon the Midnight Clear" and several others more. Another recent tradition has been to close church meetings with "Joy to the World" on the piano and organ. "Joy to the World" may be the least interesting of the 14 Christmas songs in the hymnbook (with the exception of "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks," which nobody sings). Not to mention that the lyrics of "Joy to the World" are the least Christmassy Christmas lyrics ever.

I had to give one of the prayers in church today. That's a little nerve-wracking when your bishop's dad is the presiding authority, and your bishop's last name is Eyring.

One Christmas season! Ah ah ah. [Thunder]

What a joyous time of the year!

On Thursday this week, my mom and I went downtown to try for standby tickets to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir concert. We didn't get tickets, but we got to watch the broadcast in the Tabernacle, which is just fine by me--in fact, the Tabernacle is more historic and iconic.

Since 2007, the Choir has released CD albums of their Christmas concert from the previous year. I have collected all of these, and some of them are wonderful. But their guests for 2011, 2012, and 2013 were all opera singers. But no one likes opera! The only people who like opera are people who were told they should like it. And last year's guest, Deborah Voigt, is the most opera-y, horrible of them all. I only got the CD to keep my collection complete. Her singing is terrible.

Therefore, I was delighted that this year's guest was not another opera singer. The singing guest was Santino Fontana, who was Prince Hans in Frozen. But he didn't sing any Frozen songs because he doesn't want to be remembered as a villain. I thought he was a little bit hammy, but he was good--especially compared to opera.

The main charm, however, was the Sesame Street characters. I was so glad that they didn't take themselves so seriously that they had such beloved characters. They had Big Bird, Bert, Ernie, Count Von Count, Cookie Monster, Grover, Elmo, Rosita, and Abby Cadabby (who was not a Sesame Street character when I was a kid). I was disappointed they didn't have Oscar the Grouch, but oh well. It was just so charming. My eye literally teared up a little because I was so happy the MoTab/Sesame Street mashup happened. I loved the Count helping with the organ solo of the Twelve Days of Christmas.

However, it was more of a performance than a concert, so I'm not sure how well it will work as a music CD next year. But I'm so glad I got to see it. I haven't been to one of their concerts since 2005, when they had another terrible opera singer, Renee Fleming. Of course, I'm not sure this year counts as getting to go, since I only watched it from the Tabernacle.

As I've been listening to Christmas music, I have noticed just how bad the lyrics to "The First Noel" are. Seriously. I have thought and thought about those lyrics, and have tried to grammatically parse them, but I just don't get it! Does it mean "The angels did say that the first Noel" or "The first Noel that the angels did say was to..." Regardless, it still doesn't make sense. The first Christmas was to shepherds? It makes zero. sense. And "a cold winter's night that was so deep"? What does that even mean? The tune is pretty and makes me feel Christmassy, but the lyrics are pure garbage. "Once in Royal David's City" and "It Came upon a Midnight Clear" have better words.

Yesterday, we finally got our artificial ten-foot tree up. The Christmas season got off to a slow start for us, since we were out of town for Thanksgiving. But yesterday I also put up a six-foot tree in our basement, a five-foot tree in my bedroom, and a three-foot pink tree in our TV room. It is fun to do those things.

Sometimes I worry I won't get all the things done for Christmas that I want. But this week I read a Christmas talk by Dieter F. Uchtdorf in which he likens those things to Jenga--we have these ideas about all these things and where they should go, but when they aren't right, everything comes crashing down and we are disappointed. But we shouldn't let those things disappoint us, because that makes us miss the essence of Christmas.

Happy Holidays! (You see, I said that, and I still celebrate Christmas. If you got offended, you are a rotten person.)