"And in the end, having my freedom, boast of nothing else..."

Let me tell you of a tale . . . a wonderful tale.  It regards a certain day in my personal history I'm sure will be made into a national holiday.  It is the day I finished my last undergraduate university final EVER.  Ahh yes . . . a wonderful tale.

It began not unlike any other day.  I got up, ate some cereal, then did some last-minute studying.  Somewhere in there, Jake (who is also having a similar day, though he'll have more semesters of school and thus - more finals) and I managed to play around with Brooklyn a bit:  

But play time did have to end eventually, and I had to get going to school for my last final.  It was a scheduled test, to take place in the basement of the Clyde Building at 11:00 AM.  Now, on a normal day, it takes me just over an hour to get onto campus using the bus system . . . but this (as I previously mentioned) was no ordinary day.  We had some 6-8 inches of snow dumped on us that day, and I knew it would be tough making that 12 mile trek from Pleasant Grove to Provo.  I decided to leave a tad early, and got to the bus stop at 8:30, giving myself well over two hours to navigate the public transportation system to my destination.

 So at the bus stop I waited . . . and I waited . . . and I waited.  

 After 45 minutes of waiting I called UTA's customer service line to inquire as to the whereabouts of the bus, which was at this point 40 minutes late.  I was promised that the bus was enroute, and "just around the corner" from my location.  In fact, the lady on the phone said she was suprised that I "couldn't see it right now, it should be so close!" 

Well, with such a promise, I waited yet another 20 minutes before I realized that I was in serious trouble.  At that point I shook the near inch of snow that had accumulated on my shoulders, backpack, head, and shoes and jogged the few blocks back to my house.  I had no other choice . . . I had to drive myself.  Naomi was planning on using the car that day (since I had planned to take the bus) but unfortunately her plans had to be postponed, as my schedule was deemed a higher priority at the time.  It's not every day you have your last final ever.

 The drive itself (which normally takes 20 minutes) took me the next hour to make as I battled icy roads, 20 feet visibility, and dumb students from Southern California who don't know what snow is, let alone how to drive in it. 

 I parked at Jennie's house, ate some of Lydia's home-made fudge (Thanks Lydia!) and trekked up to campus, arriving at the appointed room with literally 90 seconds to spare. 

 The test itself (the ending of which gives this day its notoriety) lasted just a smidge over 4 hours, and was probably the most intense of my college career.  It was the final for my Hydrology class, and consisted of 100 multiple choice questions followed by an open book, 12 question monster.

 I did finish it though, but was so focused on the exam for the entire 4 hours that I did not realize a) how hungry I was, b) how thirsty I was, and c) how much I had to pee.

 After I took care of the aforementioned problems, I walked on back to Jennie’s house to grab the car (feeling so free I walked atop the snow like Legolas).  It took me just under an hour to finally get home, at which point I got to shovel the driveway to the view of a beautiful Sunset.  Have you ever noticed that the best sunsets occur just after storms . . . and final exams?!

 That night we had a little party with myself, Naomi, Jennie and Jake.  We vegged, watched a few episodes of The Office, then Jake, Jennie and I enjoyed a nice game of Risk, in the which Jake handily and decidedly defeated us. (Seriously, who rolls that many sixes?!) 

 All in all, it was a fabulous day, and I’m glad the finals have ceased.

 But don’t anyone tell Craig we played Risk that night . . . he was still taking a final, so we couldn’t invite him.  He might be a little miffed.  Oh . . . probably better not tell Nikki either, she got married the next day so we couldn’t exactly invite her either (she’s been bugging me for ever to play some Risk!)

Strange Addictions...

Most boys (and men) that I know have a tendency to get addicted to video games. As soon as they set eyes on one, their brains seem to liquefy and leak out of their ears. They can't hear you, understand you, and won't acknowledge you until they have sufficiently beat the next level or conquered the game. I thought I had a pretty good grip on the importance of video games in a man's life until I saw this:

As I was walking toward the basement door last week, I passed the bathroom and noticed that my three nephews were sitting there in the dark. I had to do a double take before I realized what was going on. Joseph had needed to go to the bathroom but didn't want to miss seeing Mason beat the next level. So, out of common courtesy, Mason and David moved into the bathroom with Joseph so he could watch while taking care of his "other" business at the same time! Life never ceases to surprise me! :)

Seriously... why do we even HAVE pinky toes?!

I'm sure that there's a good reason for having pinky toes.  A student of biology may be able to tell me something about how they help you keep your balance with a stiff wind at your side.  It's possible they have a good purpose.  But for me, all they seem to do is get hurt and cause me pain!

I still remember the day, back in October, over two years ago.  After my swimming workout in my PE class, I hopped out of the pool and headed to the shower.  It was in the shower when I noticed massive amounts of blood coming out of my foot.  Turns out I had sliced my right pinky toe from the toe nail all the way back into th

e foot.  I won't say anything about the caliber of the lifeguards at the pool, who wrapped it in gauze then told me to go walk to the health center.  I made the mile and a half hike (very slowly) and got some 15 stitches in my toe.  I won't say anything about the caliber of the health center employees, who when taking out those stitches a week or so later, accidentally left some in my toe!

Anyway, If you thought BYU PE classes were done attacking my poor defenseless toes, you'd be as wrong as I was.  With a mere 1 1/2 weeks left of classes ever in my undergraduate college experience, another PE class, this time gymnastics, took its final shot at injuring me, this time attacking my left pinky toe.  

After performing my vault for the instructor for my final, as I'm stepping off the pad, the sticky pad reaches up and grabs my left pinky toe, curling it under my foot as I stepped down - breaking it as easily as a boy scout steps on a branch to break firewood.  I didn't realize how much damage was done, as a pain took a while to settle in.  I managed to finish my other routines for the final test (a tumbling routine on the floor, and the high-bar as well) finish my school day, run to catch the bus home, then referee a laser-tag game with Craig later that night.  It wasn't until I got home and took off my sock did the thought entire my mind "something's not right here..." This is the sight that greeted me:

So yes, BYU got its final shot at me mere weeks before I graduate and move on! Oh did I mention I'm graduating! heck yeah! A dumb broken toe's not going to stop me! Bring it on PE! What else you got?! I've got eight more toes you haven't touched yet!