1. As my fifth year at BYU is dawning, I am living* in the freshman dorms for a first, last, and thankfully short time.**
Who knew there are so many buildings?! And this is only *Heritage* Halls. Freshmen are apparently more abundant than rabbits.
2. Eating at the Morris Center. May I simply say: Bleh, indigestion. Apartments with kitchens were invented for a reason.
3. Going to a 2-hour dance with 350 tweenagers, and realizing just how old I really am: I knew two--yes, TWO--songs that were played the ENTIRE night. Granted, I suppose part of that is my own fault, since they *did* play half the soundtrack from Hannah Montana:The Movie, which, if I were cultured, I would most certainly have recognized on my own (as it was, the 18-year-old counselor who just graduated from high school had to inform me).
4. Sending one of my 15-year-old girls to the Emergency Room after she somehow poked a hole in her finger (almost right to the bone) with a folding chair.
5. Finishing my second semester of teaching a real college course. Woowoo! And I even got a nice two-page, hand-written thank-you letter from one of the students in my class this semester. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy.
Tonight is sure to be chock full of delights--a silent movie (actually, I'm excited for that), and then I get to entertain my girls for two and a half hours until bedtime. I told them I would take them on a fieldtrip to the Creamery. [insert squeals of excitement here] Don't you wish I was your counselor? Yeah, thought so.
*in Horne, smack dab in the middle of it all. At least I don't have to live in E. Richards where we have our daily counselor meetings amidst reeking smells of...well, I won't elaborate. (Yep, it's a guy building.)
**I am a Summerfest (sort of like EFY for music students) counselor this week, Sunday through Saturday.
1 comment:
Hey, you. How's Europe? (Of course, I could have posted this on Facebook, but this way I can also comment on how well I can empathize with your cultural illiteracy. I feel so old these days when I listen to the regular radio and realize I don't recognize anything [and that half the artists featured are younger than me]).
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