The Unexpecteds

In the fall of 2006, I never thought . . .

• That I would be married by the spring of 2007

• That I would major in political "science" (yes, guys . . . I'm a SCIENTIST)

• That I would run the Boston Marathon with my husband

• That I would learn Arabic

• That I would survive my first 50-mile race

• That I would intern for Congress

• That I would live in the Middle East

• That I would graduate with two hundred and one  credit hours 

• That I would have a mere inch of hair under the cap I walk across the stage in (for years I tried growing it out so that I could have long waves to wear on graduation day just like all the other pretty girls . . . HAHAHAHAHAHAHA)

• That I would make so  many friends in so  many places (freshman dorms, Tucanos, BYU Political Review, American Heritage TAs, Model United Nations, Students for International Development, Washington Seminar, elementary education classes, TESOL classes, Arabic classes, political science classes, Amman)

And that's what it boils down to. You are all the best Unexpecteds of the past six years.

Thanks for a grand adventure.

Done and done! For now ;)

The one who got me through it all. 

My wonderful in-laws! So incredibly supportive. I love them.

Sorry, ladies. Neither is available.

HYPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My marvelous sister! And Caden being hyper in the background. Again.

Pardon the quality on these next ones . . . they're from my mom's phone (she SWEARS her phone takes amazing pictures . . . REALLY, MOM??? Can this debate be over now!?) 

Typical.

SOMEBODY'S disappointed that I graduated childless.

Missing Caleb, Colby, and Dad . . . with us in spirit!

***

Also, Kiana surprised me with a video that she sneakily made the whole day! Best sister ever :)

False Summits

I just took the test that concludes my journey into Arabic.

I still have other finals to take this week (writing, reading, and the dreaded OPI), but this translation test was the big kahuna: Four hours of deciphering newspaper articles that I'd never seen before. I so vividly remember my very first day of Arabic classes when Ustaaz Doug taught us the words for "he," she," "you," and "hi."

You know what it feels like? It feels like I've been climbing in the Himalayas this whole time, and I've been going and going and going and working like crazy to bag a foreboding peak.

And here I am. Looking out over everything below me thinking I DID that?!? And although I'm proud of myself, I'm also very humbled because now, from this vantage point, I realize that the goal I'd been reaching for this whole time was a false summit. It's not over for me. Life does not end at this study abroad.

The thing is though, I get a buzz off this. I love false summits. I am the World's Most Annoying Hiker (ask Brock) because I never want to turn back. Just one more corner! There might be something really cool around there! Just this one last hill! What if it opens up into a sweeping valley with deer eating wildflowers and scratching their antlers on aspen trees?!?

I enjoy false summits because they psyche me out. They make me push past the exhaustion and dig deep so I can finally get where I'm gettin'. And digging deep has a way of teaching you about life and God and all the uglies and pretties about yourself.

This is a good gauge of whether you studied the right thing in college (learning about the uglies and pretties of yourself, I mean) It's important to not confuse a good major with a difficult major--just because a major challenged you doesn't mean it challenged you.  Did your major make you re-evaluate yourself? Not your opinions or interests. You. You as a soul. Studying what you love is important, and I did that with political science. But I'm grateful for my Arabic minor because the lessons I've learned from it--particularly this last semester--have been life-altering. Between political science and Arabic, I feel like I got the perfect mix of learning about my interests and learning about my character.

It's been the year of false summits for me. I left BYU behind for good in April, but still had more credits to finish.Then came August, when I completed my internship in DC (and a B.A. in Political Science along with it). But again, there was still more to do. And now here I am in December: wrapping up my two-and-a-half year journey into Arabic and my entire college experience in general. It feels like I've finally reached the top, but I've been on the trail long enough to know that's not true.

The only thing that's weird now is not seeing the next summit--false or otherwise--in the distance. It's a white-out and I can barely see three feet in front of me, let alone three years. (Or hell, even three weeks!) Come January, I'll hit the trail again toward whatever and wherever it is, but it's nerve-wracking not knowing which direction to take to get to . . . someplace.

The call to prayer is happening outside my window right now.

Maybe I should start there.

A New Adventure

WARNING: Long post. 

Thursday: Got up early to crank out some work on my capstone paper and to start packing up the house a little. Then went to commencement in the Marriott Center, where Brock made an entrance like a rockstar, pointing at everybody in the audience and doing Jersey Shore fistpumps. Elder Scott gave the commencement address--"10 Ways to Be Happy." I may or may not have slept through 1-8. Then we (Brock, me, Gary, Tammie, Allie, Ryan, Tara, and Allie's friend Emily) went to The Pie in SLC. No, the irony of going to a classic Ute hangout to celebrate a Cougar's graduation is not lost on us. But seriously--have you tasted that pizza? Went home and continued working on my capstone paper until about 3:30am.

Friday: Woke up at 6:30 to get ready for Brock's convocation at 8:00 in the Wilk ballroom. I went to take a picture of him as he walked across the stage, but MISSED IT. Yes. I MISSED IT. 200+ credits, six years, one internship, a double major and one minor later . . . AND I MISSED THE DAMN FIVE-SECOND MOMENT THAT SYMBOLIZES THE PAYOFF. I went down a few minutes early to get some practice shots in to make sure I had the right settings, but accidentally switched the camera to self-timer right before Brock walked across the stage. By the time I'd fixed it, he was gone. Luckily there was still a professional photographer there getting pictures of everyone, but I still felt like such an idiot and this thoroughly ruined my day. On top of that, my cheeks were still a little puffy from getting my wisdom teeth out and I looked ridiculous in ALL the pictures we took. And my Grandma Thomas starting crying at the thought of Brock leaving, which made me cry. And then Gary kept asking "Hey Kristi, how's the paper coming? Hey Kristi, how's the paper coming?" which made me cry even more. So took my crying eyes and chipmunk cheeks to the library and cranked out my capstone paper from 10am-5pm. My dear mother saw what an emotional wreck I was that day and booked me a massage that night, which I desperately needed. Oh, and I came home to a dozen roses from my lovey--how is it that I got treated better on his graduation day than he did?!

Saturday: Packing, packing, packing. But first, Brock and I went out to breakfast at Guru's with Heidi and Chad--so fun! Then I went to Thanksgiving Point with my family, where there was a massive Easter egg hunt going on. Except the funniest thing happened--the hunt happened in this big, wide open field, and the egg hunt volunteer workers were riding around on golf carts dumping out huge boxes of plastic eggs everywhere. Well, before they had a chance to finish, three or four over-eager toddlers started running out to grab eggs and then--in classic mob mentality--HUNDREDS OF KIDS followed! Of course, since they weren't finished putting out the eggs a lot of kids came back empty-handed and crying . . . kinda of sad . . . kinda of funny.

After the egg hunt, we went back home to pack. Brock told my dad we would need a 5x5 U-haul trailer--that guy has no sense of spatial reasoning :) After my dad had exchanged that for a 6x12, we got crackin'. After most of our stuff was loaded up, we headed to the BYU/UCSB volleyball playoff game . . . aka the choke of all chokes. Brock even painted his face Braveheart-style, but his enthusiasm apparently wasn't enough to prevent our team from 17 service errors. Embarrassing. Gary, Brock, Ryan, Tara, and I ate our sorrows away at Texas Roadhouse that night.

Sunday: Woke up and finished packing everything into Brock's truck. You know the sleigh the Grinch rides up to Mt. Crumpit? Yeah, it ended up kinda looking like that. We stopped by my Uncle Dan's house for a quick minute to say goodbye to Grandma and Grandpa Thomas, and then hit the open road. Did not shed a single tear as we drove away from Provo . . . .

Monday: Went to Home Depot to get some fresh moving boxes. Argued about the quantity of our boxes in the checkout line and made the lady behind us laugh. Found a great deal on a 10x10 storage unit at family-owned storage facility way out in the boonies. Loaded everything in, celebrated with some Taco Bell.

***

It's a weird feeling, starting this new chapter in our lives. BYU has been all we've known for the past five years together. Granted, I'm still in school till December, but as we drove away from Provo I still couldn't help but feel free.

I just absolutely love this. I love feeling nervous for the upcoming weeks and months. I love the uncertainty of not knowing where we'll be come January. I love being somewhat of a gypsy, tearing up my roots completely and transplanting them in fresh soil.

My soul has been antsy for a long time. For the better part of the last two years, I have had a constant, almost aching craving for a change of pace. I can't tell you how many times I've cried to Brock over being sick of school, sick of Provo, sick of freaking construction on I-15, you name it. I truly believe that there are places where your heart belongs, and when you're living in a place where it doesn't, it can really mess with you. 

For a while now, summer in DC and fall in Amman has been this distant set of events to look forward to. But now that it's actually materializing right before us--wow! I can't tell you how invigorating that is. I feel like a sprinter who's just burst out of the blocks, with the wind blowing in my hair and my lungs pumping sweet, sweet oxygen as fast as they can.

It's apropos that we drove away from Utah on Easter, a holiday that symbolizes rebirth and new beginnings. As Brock and I begin this next chapter of our lives, I know we'll be relying on the Savior more than ever.

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.

In the world ye shall have tribulation but be of good cheer; 

I have overcome the world.

[John 16:33]

Avoiding My Capstone Paper

BYU Bathrooms

The fact that a month-old blog devoted solely to providing information on various bathrooms around campus (byubathrooms.com) will shortly surpass me in followers. There is truly a market for everything.

This site is done by a guy who bears a striking resemblance to Adrian Brody. That has nothing to do with anything, just thought I'd throw it out there. Anyway, he goes in to bathrooms, takes pictures, and writes reviews based on cleanliness, decor, location, and traffic. (On a side note, wouldn't it be creepy to be doing your business in a stall and hear the click of a camera shutter?) For some reason, I'm surprised that it's a guy making this blog. Don't guys just go in and get out? Girls are the ones who dither around trying to calculate simple probabilities in their head of which toilet is least used--the one closest to the door? Farthest away? Middle? Handicapped stall? This kid even comments on things like lighting (the Kennedy Center bathrooms are just a tad too dim for his tastes).

I would say this guy is totally weird, but there's a mini-documentary that someone made about him (posted on his site) where he's wearing an Oceanic Flight 815 shirt. This makes him cool.

UPDATE 10/2012: I am proud to say that I am now good friends with this blog's owner! His name is Jesse Thomas and we studied Arabic in Amman together. He's pretty much DA BOMB.

Pay It Forward

I was standing in a line at the Wilk trying to buy a donut before rushing off to my next class. Earlier in the day, I'd discovered that I'd left my wallet at home, so I met up with Brock and borrowed his.

I handed the cashier a credit card to pay for my wares.

"Can I see some ID?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"I need to see some ID."

"Oh, I don't have any on me. I left my wallet at home, and borrowed my husband's credit card today."

"Ummm....okay....well, I can't process this transaction without seeing some ID."

Seriously? Can't you just take my word for it? I understand that you're trying to prevent identity fraud, but c'mon. We're all Mormon here--this is the university where people will turn your laptop into the Lost and Found if you lose it. Plus, it's a freaking 75-cent glazed donut. Not a bottle of gin. Is ID really necessary?

I stared down at the donut, which I'd already taken a couple of bites out of while waiting in line. I couldn't believe this girl being such a stickler. "Well, what do you want me to do? I've already taken a bite out of this . . . "

The cashier looked at me blankly. It was a classic BYU-employee-runs-into-a-problem-with-a-simple-solution-but-can't-force-themselves-to-break-beyond-the-red-tape moment.

"Here," said a voice from behind me. "I got it. Add it to my tab."

I looked behind me to see a smiling girl with gentle eyes. She set her own food on the counter next to my donut and offered the cashier her credit card.

"Are you serious?" I said. "Thank you so much! That's so kind of you."

"Hey, no worries. It's no biggie."

But it was to me.

***

Amazing how the simplest things can make a person's day. I think that's really important to remember. Being Christ-like doesn't necessarily mean going out of your way to care for the sick and afflicted, donating your time to worthwhile causes, not judging others, etc.

More than anything, it's about keeping your eyes open for those small moments that make a big difference.

He Saw Him

Jimmer Fredette had just dropped a free throw to score his fiftieth point of the game Fiftieth! We were watching it in the basement of the Wilk with several hundred other students who erupted into deafening jubilation. Amidst the whistles and hooping and hollering, I turned around to give Brock a high five, but he was nowhere in sight. My eyes scanned the room looking for him--he knew Jimmer was about to hit 50! Where on earth did he go?

Then I saw him. He was holding open the door for a man who was bringing in his three young daughters to watch the end of the game. The man was crippled.

I am so thankful to have married a person who is constantly looking beyond himself, even in situations where we often forget to open our eyes. It was--by far--the most memorable thing I saw tonight.

Kanye Moment

I just walked down a hall on my way to class. In that hall, and during the course of two minutes, I ran into three different people I knew who were like "Kristi! What's up? How are you doing! Good to see you!"

It was nice to see the first person.

It was nice to see the second.

After the third, I could think of only one thing:

I AM POPULAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EVERYBODY KNOWS ME!!

EVERYBODY WANTS TO TALK TO ME!!!!!!

Okay, so three things. Whatever.

I walked away with a pep in my step. My ego has since returned to its normal size (which, admittedly, is what I like to call "healthily robust"). But still. It was nice to feel all Kanye West there for a moment.

Idea FAIL

To motivate myself to do homework, I'm always like "I know! I'll start with the funnest homework first, and then I'll just get on a roll and won't be able to stop!!!"

YEAH, RIGGGHTTTT.

Weekend Update (Sans Seth Meyers)

Last night, Brock and I went to the BYU volleyball game against UCLA. It was so fun--partly because it was a great match-up, partly because we were standing with the rowdiest fans ever.

Highlights:

• The awesome signs the people we were cheering with had made--my favorite was one the kept updating throughout the game, a sign that said "MISSED SERVES" with a running tally.
• When one of the UCLA players with the last name of Page kept messing up, they made an impromptu sign that read "PAGE M.V.P."
• The heckling! Oh, the heckling! People, it was art. When their Argentinian player would go to serve the ball, we'd chant "USA! USA!" Or we called him Frodo. (Because he looked like him.) Or unibrow. (Because he had one.) Another one of UCLA's players was seven feet tall. He came to be known as Gumby. But my personal favorite was a lanky UCLA guy with long, shaggy brown hair. We affectionately called him "GEI.CO.CAVE.MAN."
• BYU won in four games, and near the end of the fourth game, a player on our team (Souza, I believe) totally stuffed UCLA twice in a row. The place erupted!

Both Brock and his brother Ryan (who plays on the BYU volleyball team, for those of you who don't know) grew up playing volleyball, and are patiently teaching Tara and I the ins and outs of the game. The more I learn, the more I realize how big of a factor heckling actually is. Getting in the opponents' heads gives you a huge home-court advantage. And when BYU's team travels elsewhere, they get heckled sooooo bad--and it's not "nice" stuff like Geico Caveman. Ryan even called us after the game and thanked us. (Apparently the UCLA players were shooting their mouths off at our team during warm-ups. WARM-UPS.)

Anyway, it was a great game and everything was in good fun. The Geico Caveman was laughing along with us the whole game. Whenever a UCLA player missed a serve, he'd look our way and motion for us to add a tally mark to our poster.

After the game, Brock and I grabbed a jumbleberry pie shake and some fries at the Malt Shoppe  and headed home to watch a Netflix movie (Captain Abu Raed--definitely put it in your queue).

In other news . . .

(The twelvthfhf--HOW DO YOU SPELL THAT???--person was my little sister, Kiana, who had a mail-in ballot. For some reason she couldn't comment on the post, so she emailed me.)

And the ninth commenter?

I am happy about this because I haven't seen Sierra in forever, and in order to give her my term paper, I will have to meet up with her. Perhaps over lunch??? :)

University Parking Enforcement

I will not detail a comprehensive list of my grievances concerning this despicable, vile, wretched excuse of a company. However, after an experience I had today, I feel compelled to issue a warning to fellow BYU students:

UNLESS YOU'RE A RESIDENT, DO NOT PARK AT THE RIVIERA. EVER. FOR ANY REASON. EVEN IF YOU'RE DYING BEHIND THE WHEEL AND NEED TO PULL OVER SO AS NOT TO INJURE OTHERS. EVEN IF YOU NEED TO DELIVER A BABY. DO NOT PARK AT THE RIV.

THEY. WILL. TOW. YOU.

I parked at The Riv today for five minutes to deliver an old textbook to a guy who I'd sold it to on Amazon. Literally five minutes. No, really, LITERALLY.

I returned to my car just as a UPE tow-truck was about to hook up my car in its hateful $200 grip of doom. He let me off because I arrived at the scene before he was fully connected to my car, and legally they can't just finishing hooking up and drive away with you standing right there. BUT HONESTLY. Is every parking lot wired with video surveillance?? Am I unaware of combination stealth-bomber/tow-truck Transformers that fly over parking lots? Circling like vultures for the next sorry soul who dares park their car for--I repeat--FIVE MINUTES?!?

Awesome Ish

A conglomeration of awesome ish that I have run into both in person and on the internetz recently . . .

Watching the colors change on Y Mountain.

I have a class on the fourth floor of the Clyde (engineering) Building and came across this on my way out of class. I busted up laughing in the middle of the hallway. 

My bro/sis-in-law delivered us a batch of awesome homemade cookies. One of which was shaped like . . . a moose. Or at least that's what Ryan told me it was supposed to look like. (For me, it bears a striking resemblance to the Quizno's spongemonkeys). In any case, it made me laugh SO HARD.

I WANT TO BE THIS LADY.

And finally, the awesomest ish I've seen all week . . .

First, watch 60 seconds of this (the original) video:

Now, watch the slowed-down, unintentionally seductive version.

You're welcome.

Pancakes: The New Rocket Science

Every time I order something at the Scoreboard Grill in the Cougareat, I am impressed.

With the incompetence of the student employees making my food.

Every time, I hope it will be different--that I won't need to muster every ounce of restraint to keep myself from yelling "Hey! You're not dismantling an atomic bomb. You're making pancakes for two people with PREPARED BATTER. It shouldn't take four people nine minutes to do this."

But every time, it does.

Yet I, ever the glutton for punishment, went to Scoreboard today for pancakes after finishing a 7AM final exam. After I'd given birth to my second child, my food was up. But something was wrong.

No syrup? This is America. Pancakes and syrup are not mutually exclusive. When have you ever gone to an IHOP and not had at least THREE flavors of syrup ON YOUR TABLE. You hand me syrup-less pancakes and expect me to carry on normally? Is this a joke?

I politely asked for syrup. A student employee responded "Absolutely! Guys, can somebody grab me a syrup?" with a cheery smile. I watched in awe as the following scene unfolded before my eyes:

1. The guy who said "Absolutely!" exerted all his faculties in scrambling an egg.
2. Another idled at the cash register.
3. One wiped down a counter.
4. Another dithered about aimlessly trying to look busy.

Any rational person could ascertain that none of the above activities would have been grossly inconvenienced by a brief syrup-retrieving intermission. I thought about piping up, but I was truly interested in just how long this dazzling display of dimwittedness could go on for.

Six minutes.

Finally, a fellow sufferer waiting in line commented "Uh . . . dude, are you going to get her syrup?"

I sat down at a table to eat my now-cold meal. My bacon was undercooked.

Need A Male Escort??

If so, then today's your lucky day!

I found the following advertisement on the BYU Wilk Board.

Are You Desperate and Available??

If so, then today's your lucky day! Your perfect match awaits.

I found this flyer today outside the BYU library:

"We may not be the sharpest tools in the shed, but we have great personalities! We can try to make all your dreams come true! Don't be shy and give us a call, or maybe a text, either way we don't mind because we are 'Desperate & Available'.

Don't let these charming pictures fool you . . . underneath we are shy, innocent, tender-hearted lost souls that are simply looking for an eternal companion. So call fast! The weekend is drawing near and we would love to fill our nights with you!!"

***

This reminds me of when I found an advertisement on the Provo Craigslist for kissing lessons offered by a group of experienced, entrepreneurial "specialists."

Only at BYU.

Things I Love About Provo

I should be more grateful to live where I do. I hate on Provo all the time...partly because where I grew up in Colorado was like heaven on earth. In lieu of writing a "Things I Miss About Fort Collins" list (which I am sorely tempted to do), I've decided to compile a list of all the things Provo has going for it. Isn't there a primary song about having an attitude of gratitude? Or Barney? Or something? 

1. Spark. Spark is a cool restaurant on Center Street that feels so not Provo. No families, no crying babies, no strollers. It has dim lights, modern decor, and an ever-changing menu and drink list. Brock and I don't go there that often because it is a little pricey, but when we do it's so worth it. 

2.  Bicentennial Park. It really is beautiful. Wide open spaces, picnic tables, a marshland with a wooden walkway that winds through it, even a natural aquifer with that you can drink right out of on a hot day. 

3. Jumbleberry pie shakes at The Malt Shoppe. 

4. Sweet potato fries at Guru's. Best in town! They always come out hot, fresh, and with just the right amount of crisp. Plus, they're sweet potato fries, so they're healthy. Especially when you dip them in fry sauce.

5. The quattro formaggi sauce at Gloria's Little Italy. 

6. BYU's campus in the springtime. I love springtime at BYU...it's when campus truly comes to life (not with students...with greenery!). It's especially gorgeous if you get a light snow overnight, in which case the whole campus is filled with blooming flowers, trees, and freshly mowed grass, butstunning snow-capped mountains in the background. Plus, campus is way lax in the springtime because hardly anybody is around. And it's fun to watch all the little EFY kids try to be cool. Precious.

7. French toast at Kneaders. One the best breakfasts in Provo...and I love breakfast.

8. Banana cream pie shakes at Sammy's. A whole piece of banana cream pie in every shake. A whole piece! You can get all kinds of other varieties--coconut cream pie, mint chocolate chip pie, etc--but banana cream is the best. Sammy's is just a cool place in general. It's got way chill employees who'll just lean over the counter and shoot the breeze with you (our favorites are Kayla and Sean), really cool artsy decor, great music, and they're open way late on weekends. 

9. Having the mountains right near my house. 

10. My hair stylist. Shea Lynn Scheiss at David Douglas salon has been a godsend to me! After literally YEARS of searching for "my hair girl" since moving to Provo (and going through six or seven duds...) I finally found her! Shea can read my mind. I'll try to articulate to her exactly what I want (with moderate success at doing so) and yet my hair always comes out looking EVEN BETTER than what I'd had in mind! Shea just listens to you and does what you ask her. None of this "I'm the hairstylist I know best" business. Plus, she's fast. I'm usually out of there with a cut and color in 2.5 hours tops.

11. Living so close to extended family. My Grandma and Grandpa Thomas have been a part of my relationship with Brock pretty much day one. They live twenty minutes away in American Fork, and we're always heading over there for Sunday dinners, game nights, etc. We also live close to my Aunt Cindy and Uncle Rob, who frequently host Sunday get-togethers for all the Kern cousins attending BYU. I've gotten so much closer to so many of my cousins because of it. I love having my family as my best friends!