Smackdown Sunday

My Sunday was going swimmingly. I slept in, I made pizza dough, I watched "Music and the Spoken Word," I went to Church . . . it was all fantastic. After Sunday School, some guys came up to Ann (my roommate) and said, "We're ready to come over and eat your delicious food again."

Hmmmmm. They were at the apartment Saturday night (I wasn't there) and ate all our chicken roll ups. I was leery of the guys, but she said, "Sure!" and they all said, "Great!"

Whatever. I was having a great Sunday. After Church, I told Ann that this mooching could not take place anymore, but it was fine they were coming over for dinner then. She nodded and smiled.

I completed the pizza when I got home from Church, and soon the moochers arrived to eat my food. The vibe I was getting from these two immature boys was not good--my mood began to turn sour. As I cut into the pizza, I realized the crust was a bit hard (Alisyn, you would have been so ashamed of me!). "Whatever!" I sighed to myself and placed the beautiful pizza on the table. The moochers began to dish themselves some pizza.

"Sorry the crust is a little hard," I remarked as they began feeding their faces.

"It's okay," one of them said (Devin--why do I need to conceal the names of the guilty?) as he fed his face.

"Uh, yeah, this crust is really hard," moocher #2, Chris, snipped, as if he had just eaten the most disgusting food in his life.

WHOA!! I thought, looking at him. If he would have said it sarcastically, it would have been different; but his remark was so rude and so snide that I flipped a brick right then and there.

"You don't have to sit here and eat my pizza," I snipped back, poison dripping from my words.

And then he had the audacity to reply, "I don't have to sit here and ruin my enamel."

I don't know how I didn't lose it right then and there. I was mad; I was irate. How rude!!!! How dare he sit there and get a free meal and complain. I would NEVER complain about a free meal at a guest's house. NEVER! And there Mr. Moocher was, complaining about his free meal. Don't bite the hand that feeds you, buddy--especially not mine.

I held my tongue and fumed through the rest of dinner for the sake of the Sabbath. Ann knew I was mad. The moochers knew I was mad.

When they finally left, I flipped a brick in front of Ann. "I don't put up with crap," I hissed, all of my anger finally releasing. "That was uncalled for! Creeps! They are never to come over to this apartment again!"

Ann knew I was mad, and she agreed. She left, I went home and collapsed in front of my family, angry tears and screams escaping from the deepest, darkest place of my soul.

After having a good cry and a good angry-fest, I drove back to the apartment and had a heart-to-heart with Ann. No more moochers, no more creeps. If someone comes over, we both have to approve.

Chris was just lucky he didn't get the smackdown.

I am SUCH an Idiot!!!

I am kicking myself right now. Why? Well, in case you couldn't tell from the title, it is because I am SUCH and idiot! Today in physics lab (yes, the place where I live), I was working with my little group of people. We were doing physics and talking about random things. One guy (we'll call Joe) mentioned he wanted to see "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," and I said I would like to as well. We finished our physics homework, and everybody pretty much fizzled away except Joe.

"So, do would you like to go see 'Chocolate Factory' tonight maybe?" Joe asked, looking at me.

I was shocked. I full couldn't open my mouth for probably five seconds. During those five seconds, several thoughts raced through my mind:

#1 Did what you think just happened really happen?
#2 Did he just ask me on a date?
#3 It's Cindy's birthday tonight. I promised I'd be with her, and I want to be with her!
#4 Why would he ask me out?
#5 Call Cindy and tell her you got asked on a date. She'll understand.
#6 You can't cop out on Cindy!
#7 You just got asked on a date!
#8 Stop standing there like an idiot and say something.
#9 You hate awkward situations like this.
#10 Say something!

"I would love to," I replied, "but it's my friend's birthday, and we're celebrating tonight." I tried to make my voice sound as anguished as possible. The first time I've been asked out in months and I say I can't go . . . idiot.

"Sure . . ." he smiles, hinting that I am lying.

"Really!" I cried. "Her name's Cindy, and she's turning 22!"

"Well, see you later."

"Thanks though. I would love to go, but . . . I'm sorry. Tell me how you like it."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

AHHHHHHHH!!!!! As I was walking down the hill, I thought of a million more witty and beautiful things to say. I thought of suggesting a later movie so I could be with Cindy AND go on a date. But, alas, all I could do was stand there like an idiot and refuse a date. I think I subconsciously push men away. I really do. I think I'm afraid of becoming emotionally involved and being hurt. So when something like this happens, I have no idea how to deal with it or what to do. I'm pretty messed up when it comes to the guy department.

Heaven, though, has pity on poor souls like me, and I'm going out on a blind date with Joanna and Lyle this next weekend. Hopefully I can redeem myself. But with my record of dating and simple interactions with males, I highly doubt any redemption will occur.

(Deep sigh.)

Darwin's Beauty

"There is a grandeur in this view of life [that of natural selection], with its several powers, having been originally breathed by the Creator into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being evolved" Charles Darwin, Origin of Species.

Isn't that a beautiful statement? The simplicity of Darwin's explanation is so elegant and so perfect. Ponder on this statement and feel the power of Darwin's words.

Random Thoughts for the Day

Today I bought ice cream at Sugar and Spice (in the good old Cougar-Eat), and the girl who was serving me asked, "So, have you had a spiritual day today?"

I wondered what she meant, and I said, "I guess, but I'm going to take a statistics exam after this, and I thought I'd pump myself up with ice cream."

"Oh," she said, "I thought you were an EFY kid."

"Do I look young enough to be an EFY kid?!" I asked, incredulous.

"No, well, but, you looked dressed up."

I peered at her as I stood there in plain white shirt and capri jeans.

"Good luck on your statistics test!"

Thanks, girl. All of a sudden I've gotten a slew of comments that I look 16-18 years old. What is up? When I was younger, I always got 1-2 years OLDER than I really was. But now . . . what is it? My hair? My youthful face? My lack of a mature air? What is it?! I don't know, and I am all confused inside. It doesn't matter much, but I truly want to know why I look so young.

Anywho, on a happier and more exciting note, I got a 98.6% on my statistics test. ROCK ON!!! The professor and the TA's all said the test would be harder than the last one (which I got a 91% on), but I took this test with peace and happiness in my heart and got a 98.6%. Eat that, pre-meds! Eat that, smart boy in my lab! Eat that all you disbelievers of my ability to do statistics!

Just kidding. I am very grateful for all of the heavenly help I received when studying and taking the test. Without the Lord's help, I could NEVER do as well as I do in statistics. Or physics. Or humanities. Come to think of it, my whole scholastic career has been helped and guided by my loving Heavenly Father. It humbles me to think of how little I know and how much He knows. He blesses me every day with a small part of His knowledge, and I will forever be grateful for that.

Me and My Making-Out Roommate

So, I live in an apartment with three other girls I really don't know. I shall call them by pseudonyms as to allow for their privacy while I tell their funny stories. Anywho, Ann and I were cleaning out the kitchen because we have a roommate, Helen, who is moving out and emptied her cupboard. We didn't want to keep a lot of stuff, so by the time we were finished, we had oodles of stuff to throw away. Junk in hand, we made our merry way out to the garbage dumpster. It's only 2 or 3 minutes away, but by the time we rounded the bend back to our apartment, there was our roommate, Helen, full on making out with her boyfriend.

Two thoughts ran through my mind: #1 "Back up and don't come back for a while! Don't let them see you!" I started backing up, but then #2 "Haylee, you're past the point of no return. Just walk up the steps and go into your apartment." Thought #2 won, and I marched my way up the steps. I had no idea where Ann was, but I was moving. "Sorry, excuse me," I mumbled as I stepped past them. Helen blushed deeply and Mr. Boyfriend (Brandon?) thrust himself down the stairs. I didn't even see his face. Once in the apartment, all three of us (Ann, Helen, and me) burst out laughing.

"I'm so sorry!" I cried, tears running down my face, "but I was past the point of no return!" We all had a good laugh.

I hope, though, that is the last picture I see of Helen and Mr. Boyfriend making out. I have images in my brain I'll NEVER forget! Whew!

Growing Up is Hard

I was talking to Alisyn tonight, and she told me she was going to be gone for three weeks in St. George. "What am I going to do?!" I exclaimed to her. She said that it would a good time to ease into the aspect of not seeing each other for long periods of time. I nodded, not recognizing consciously what she was talking about. Driving home, though, I realized exactly what she was talking about. She leaves for an internship in January, I'll be student teaching in January, everyone else will be doing their own things in January, and then graduation will hit in April. After April, who knows where we'll all be? We all won't be together, that's for sure. After I realized that, I began to cry silent tears in my car.

Changes are hard, and it is hard to comprehend that friends won't be together anymore. It's hard for me to comprehend that I may not be near any family or friends in a little over a year. Who knows where teaching will take me? I try to be brave and excited about growing up and moving on from my college life, but truthfully, I wish it could be like it is now forever. I know that it can't, but it doesn't make it any easier. I wish I would have treasured each moment more, studied a little less and played a little more, introverted less and reached out more. But I can't go back and relive it, and I won't have those same opportunities in the future. I am sad, but there is nothing I (or anyone else) can do about it. I thought when I was younger that growing up would be easier, but I find that it is harder than I could ever imagine. It's hard to change and to move on to things I never thought would come. But they are here.

In the car, I could just imagine myself sitting alone in an apartment somewhere on a Friday night with nothing to do and no friends to be with. I guess what I'm most afraid of is being alone. The most comforting thought that has come to me is that I'm never alone because Christ is always with me through His Spirit. "You're not alone" seems to be a cheesy theme, but when you really ponder, it is so true. I am grateful for my Savior and Redeemer. I know He lives, and that knowledge is treasured and amazing. Because of His Atonement, I can feel peace and joy every day in my life, no matter the circumstances. He is the source of light and truth. I am nothing without Him. I know my Heavenly Father loves me, and I know He sees the big picture. The experiences I've had and the ones I will have teach me lessons I need to learn. He is so patient with me, and He blesses me every day of my life.

One scripture seems particularly meaingful. I've modified it to fit for me, but the meaning still holds true:

And I will bring Haylee by a way that she knows not; I will lead her in paths that she has not known: I will make darkness light before her, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto her, and not forsake her. (Isaiah 42:16)

My name is Haylee, and I have volume control problems.

I can get really passionate about things. Pretty much everything. I am on the extremes of the spectra of life--I either passionately agree with something or I am passionately against it. This being said, I tend to verbalize my opinions a lot, and along with verbalizing comes my volume control issues.

I was talking to Dr. Gardner the other day about a girl we both knew. Let's call her Jane. Jane had introduced us to her "friend," but I insisted to Dr. Gardner that they were more than "friends." After he examined the issue thoroughly, he quietly proclaimed that, indeed, they were more than "friends." I shouted for joy and exclaimed passionately "I knew it, I knew it! Wahoo!" He finally said to me "Shhhhhhhh!" I stopped my ranting and raving and said, "I have volume control problems, don't I?" "You think?" he replied. We started to recall all of the times when my volume control issues have caused me problems. After struggling for some amount of time with my immaturity and lack of control, I told him I resolved to fix my imperfection and to become more "gentile" and graceful, etc.

Friends, family, loved ones: please help me. I cannot do it without your help. I live life passionately, but those around me clearly see my volume control as a problem. Let me know when I have volume issues . . . I will try to remedy my problem with as much dignity as possible, without letting go of who I really am.

That being said, WAHOO!!!!!!!!!!

Physics and a Frenchman

So, I'm sitting in the physics lab (I live there now. If you need to mail me anything, please send it to N305 ESC Brigham Young University), trying to study for my physics test. I'm studying with a small group of people--we're sitting there studying on our own, but whenever we have a question, we shout it out and someone, somewhere answers it. We are all studying, and yet we know that studying is futile because it is physics. No matter how hard you study, the test always looks foreign and always kicks any semblance of hope out of you. Anywho, we're trucking along, and this guy comes in. I've seen him before, and this time he directs his comments to my little study group in accented English. My little head pops up because I recognize the accent--it's French. Suddenly I get all excited and listen to every word he says just because he's French.

He tells the group that he's just taken the test, and it was hard. I shudder. Great. Now I really have no hope. I verbalize this outloud, and he says, "Well, it takes me a while to take the test because I am French and I have a hard time interpreting the questions."

"I'm a native English speaker, and I have a hard time interpreting the questions!" I exclaim, dropping my head in my hands. People laugh. "I really have no hope!"

A gentleman, the French guy shrugs my comments off and says, "It was hard."

Poor guy. I only have to translate physics into English, but he has to translate physics into English and then into French. It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase, "Lost in translation."

Stupid physics.

Ode to Roberts

Oh, dear Roberts Arts and Crafts
How I do adore thee!
With thy sales and crafty stuff
I do adorn my forlorn apartment
To make it into a home.

Just call me "Mommy"

Well, my first week in the singles' ward, and I already have a calling--FHE "mom." I kind of asked for it. After Sacrament meeting, the 1st counselor met with me as a "getting to know you" type interview, and I gave my life schpill and then said, "I would love to have a calling." He gave me one right then and there. In this instance, I got what I asked for! Technically I'm called "FHE Group Leader," but both the 1st counselor and the FHE chair say I'm the "mom" of group #3. And guess what? Since I'm a "mom," there has to be a "dad," so I guess I have somewhat of a "husband." Better now than never, right? Ah, it is all so interesting and weird . . . more random adventures to come!

When all hope was lost . . .

When I thought all was lost, I found today that there really are nice and genuine people in this world. As I was walking up the hill to class, I heard this voice saying, "Hello?" I turned around and there was this nice looking guy coming toward me. I thought, "There is no way in the world my luck is this good," when he said, "I always see you walking up this hill, and I thought I'd introduce myself." Anyway, his name is Dave, and we randomly talked up the hill. He asked were I was headed, I told him, and we talked some more. We parted paths at the library, but he said, "Nice to talk to you." Wow! Someone who sees me often and genuinely wanted to know who I was. It was awesome! Thanks, Dave, whoever you are, for making my day!

Also, the Relief Society presidency of my new ward came over and visited today. Man, they are on top of things! It was happy to see smiling and welcoming faces. I love the organization of the Church, and I love when fantastic people magnify their callings. Thanks, Relief Society Presidency, for making my day!

I did it!

After talking about it for so long, I finally made my own blog. The title well fits--it will be a whole lot of random thoughts from my head.

What to Expect:

--I'm a biologist, so expect a lot of random thoughts about amazing biology facts. Also, expect a heated and passionate post when someone bashes Darwin or evolution.

--I'm a single girl, so expect a lot of random stories about my failed interactions with males. I'm also in a singles' ward, so expect really random stories from that.

--I go to BYU, so expect a lot of random stories and opinions about BYU and all the fun contained therein.

--I'm LDS, so expect a lot of my personal testimony throughout the blog.

That's about it! I hope this is a productive adventure, somewhere I can spew out emotion relatively painlessly and hopefully humorously.

Loves, etc.
Haylee