More Machines...

More about technology.

I was hurrying to school this Friday morning. I had stayed up late again but still not quite managed to get everything totally ready. There were still a couple of handouts on my computer. We were going to be reading part of 100 Years of Solitude in Spanish 4 (but the English translation, since I didn't have a copy in Spanish--lucky students), and I had some handouts about background information for them to look at in groups. Apparently my teaching is too teacher-centered. This is frustrating, because I feel like I try to get them to do stuff. Like printing out little bits on the United Fruit Company, magical realism, and the environmental impact of banana plantations in South America for them to read one of these and report to their group about.

This didn't happen, though. I got to school and while they were doing some exercise in partners, I opened up my computer to transfer and print the handouts. The screen looked like a stone, but lit up. I restarted it--same results. My computer...had died.

I took it down to the Apple store when school got out. I pulled out of my bag for the "genius" at the "Genius Bar" at the back of the jam-packed store. The "genius" said, "I haven't seen one of these in awhile." He scanned something and pulled up the purchase date: July 2005. He explained that Apple doesn't service computers that have been discontinued for five years or more, and that I just barely snuck in under the wire.

It's getting shipped off to Kansas or something and should be back in a couple of days with a new graphics card and something else and hard drive. Suck as much life out of it as possible...

Extraordinary Machine

Before I left Korea, I wanted to get a flash drive. Korea has such beautiful electronics--I have pictures of a refrigerator displayed in front of an appliance store, and of the rice cookers from our apartments. I would tell people how beautiful their cell phones were as a way to start a conversation. "There isn't anything like that in the US," I would tell them, and it's true. I came back and found we have smart phones that can do amazing things. But with surprising colors, sparkles and lights, graphics and flower designs, their phones (like their refrigerators and rice cookers) are beautiful.

So I wanted to get a flash drive. These were also cheaper in Korea, and had huge capacities (at least compared to what I had seen...). So when my parents came to get me, we spent some time at Kyobo Book Store, and there, I found a flash drive.

And it is beautiful. It has an 8GB capacity. It is the size of the tip of my thumb, brushed red metal. It came attached to a little string so I could hook it to my cell phone, and a little chain to add it to a keyring. When I hold it, it makes me think of a rosary.

(Is that sacrilegious? Or just geeky?)

I never really had a need for a flash drive until I started student teaching. Going back and forth between my computer and the one in the classroom, I use one now pretty much every day. And at the end of the day, I take it out and stick it in my pocket.

Or, that's what I did until I washed the pants with the Korea flash drive in the pocket this last week. I don't put flash drives in my pocket anymore.

I was sad. Tonight, though, I thought I would just stick it in the computer and see what happens.

And it worked.

So, a lot has happened since my last post. I've been thinking about my blog, and trying to think of significant/interesting/poetic things to write about. I'm just going to summarize what I've been up to since I last wrote.

--I left Provo. This included the following events:
+Finals
+The Provo Tabernacle burning up the day before I left. I kept waking up to helicopters and wondering what on earth was going on.
+Moving furniture six inches out from the wall to check out of the apartment. This was apparently a new part of the check-out process. Items found behind said furniture included used tissues, a necklace, a pocket-sized hymn book, and a framed picture of Joseph Smith. This was BYU, after all.

--Christmas. It was lovely. My sisters and their families were in town, which was the best part. That, and the tee shirt my dad gave me. It has Che Guevara wearing a Che Guevara tee shirt.

--New Years. At this point, it was just me and my parents. We hiked Ensign Peak (I should really include photos...) in the snow, and it was a beautiful way to start the New Year. After this Korean New Years tradition, we proceeded to a family New Years tradition, and went to a movie. We saw The King's Speech. It was excellent.

--I have a new ward.

--I started student teaching.
+For the first two weeks I just observed. This actually wasn't that pleasant. To be honest, I got bored. Plus I didn't know what to do with myself.
+I did some bits of lessons. I lead the reading for my first go at something in front of the class. After, I was convinced they hated me, were bored, and that I probably actually didn't know anything.
+I've started teaching whole classes. Up until this point, I was thinking things like, "So, what is my plan B? I know I've been fixated on becoming a teacher for a few years now, but..." Since I've been teaching more, though, things are better. I really do enjoy it when I'm doing it. I was surprised at how much I care for the students. I was also surprised at how exhausted I was after I taught the whole day today.

--I'm trying to finish the thesis for the Honors program. Mostly, the last little while of working on it has been me wishing I knew more math.

Successful Activities

I was a Family Home Evening group leader this semester for church, which meant I was responsible for organizing some sort of spiritual enlightenment and activity once a week for a group of people I go to church with.

There were a couple of things we did that went well, so I'm going to share them.

Creating

I think one of the biggest worries of people my age is what to do with your life. So, one week, we started by reading a few quotes from this amazing talk about finding your life's calling.

Then we watched a video that my sister Emmy posted on her blog awhile back. A "Mormon Message" about creating. Because that's what we're doing. Even homework is creating, and creating is divine.

Then, for the activity, we sculpted ice cream. (Do you see a theme?) For the treat, we ate ice cream, but not the same ice cream that was sculpted.

We bought ice cream in cartons, so you can just peel away the carton, and then bring out the figure within it (with spoons, knives, and other kitchen implements). The theme was Disney characters.

This is Lumière (Beauty and the Beast)

This was supposed to be Simba, but the way it turned out, we decided it could be a character from Brother Bear.
Mater, from Cars. (Sideways--sorry about that.)

Bridge

I learned a few things during this past General Conference. One of them was that we just need to keep being consistent and doing the little things. Another was a story told in Neil L. Andersen's talk. He talked about how we need to not get offended about little things. He told a story about how Parley P. Pratt had been offended when he was doing what was right but was "judged unfairly." When it happened, Joseph Smith told him, "Parley...walk such things under your feet...[and] God Almighty shall be with you."

That phrase stuck with me: Walk such things under your feet.

So, for a family home evening lesson, I passed out a little piece of scrap paper to each person, and a sticky note to each person. I found the whole Parley P. Pratt story in his autobiography posted online, and read bits of it.

Then, I asked each person to write a challenge to faith. I told them it could be a personal challenge, an offense, a commandment, whatever had challenged their faith. And that no one was going to read these.

I then asked them to take the sticky note and write on it one thing they learned in General Conference that we should do. This might be following the prophet, praying, reading the scriptures, etc. (And that we would be reading these)

I had set two chairs facing each other, and told them that this was our "bridge of faith." I asked them to crumple their scrap paper and throw it under the "bridge," and then stick their sticky note on the bridge. We talked about how doing things to develop faith--the things they had learned to do at General Conference--can help you overcome the things that challenge your faith. To "walk them under your feet."

And then I asked if anyone wanted to cross the bridge. A few of the guys did it.

"Um, excuse me..."

So I biked to school this morning. I always bike to school, on the eBike that I got from my cousin (thanks to my parents). I had just got onto lower campus and was going up a hill to get to my class.

I was also running late, and was trying to go quickly. Another bike came up beside me, and the girl riding said something to me. I was listening to my iPod, so I couldn't quite here her. (I assumed it was a comment about my bike, since a surprising number of strangers ask me about it. In fact, that's the only thing people talk to me about while I'm riding a bike.)

I took out an earphone, and what she was saying was, "Did you know there's a bra hanging off your backpack?" The answer to this question was obviously no (in fact, I just about ran into her at this point). I stopped, took off my backpack, and--sure enough--there it was, hanging from a bottle of water I had in one of the water bottle holders.

Yep.

I tried to replay in my mind the people I had gone past. I couldn't remember passing anyone I recognized--besides the nice Jehovah's Witness man who stands at the entrance to campus and passes out copies of The Watchtower most mornings. I tried to think of where it all broke down. What was the fatal decisive moment? Was it buying a bottle of water the other day (I had felt guilty for that, plastic bottles ruining the earth and all). Was it not putting all of my laundry away last night? Was it getting up to late to not be in a hurry this morning? The implications of what would have happened--possibilities of riding through campus with a bra hanging off my backpack, of walking into class with it--also went through my mind.

And so I want to emphasize my gratitude to that girl on the bike, who saved a bit of my dignity. She instilled in me a resolve to tell people the things they don't realize, whether they have food in their teeth or toilet paper stuck to their shoe. I, in turn, urge you to do the same.

The awkward people of the world will thank you.

Most Recent Life: Fort, Spark

I've had a few recent blog realizations. One, I'm a little more interested in my blog again. Two, I don't have particularly interesting things to blog about. Three, I really enjoy reading other people's blogs, even if they are just about every-day stuff.

So, I'm blogging about some kind of mundane stuff.

The Fort.
So my roommates and I got a group date together. There was much deliberation about what we would do for this date (which gave me a new respect for guys who plan dates). After much discussion, we decided to build a fort. In our living room.

The fort wasn't looking to be very exciting until one of the guys suggested we turn the couch on end. We did that, and put a chair on the table, strung sheets off the ceiling and from the door and the refrigerator, put all the couch cushions on the ground and had a picnic in the fort. The picture hopefully gives you some idea of how it all went down. Spark.
My friend Jessica gave me a Groupon to Spark Restaurant Lounge for my birthday. I went there Friday night with some friends (the group would have included Jessica, except she lives in Salt Lake, not Provo, the location of Spark Restaurant Lounge and of me). It's quite the place. I was going to lift a picture of someone's Flickr photostream, but I'll just let you click the link. They set our places at the end of a long, black table. Kind of like medieval dining. We all felt chic. My friend Natalie got a Shirley Temple. It was described in the menu as having a "cotton candy cap." We all wondered what on earth this meant, until she got it. Basically, it's what it sounds like. There was fluffy cotton candy on a stick stuck in the drink like a flag. Quite the garnish.

The Trip, Part II

Some more pictures from the trip--this one of the Hill Cumorah. It really is the tallest thing around--a spectacular view from on top. Several people elected to roll down it. I declined. A set of keys to one of the rental cars was lost in the process (and quickly found).
We drove from Palmyra, New York, to Kirtland, Ohio. Everyone learned the Erie Canal song ("I've got an old mule and her name is Sal...") on the way. It was sung several times during the trip. We stopped at one of the locks on the actual canal. It's still used for shipping and recreation.
A reconstruction of the John Johnson farm in Hiram, Ohio, where the Church was officially founded on April 6, 1830 (a Tuesday). The other building on this site is half a visitors' center and half a meeting house for the area.
And we went to Kirtland, Ohio. The Kirtland Temple was a highlight of the trip for me. It's currently owned and maintained by the Community of Christ, a break-off from the LDS Church. They also run several of the sites in Nauvoo, and they had some big-wig guides for our group. One was one of their major scholars, and the other the director of all their sites in Nauvoo. I appreciated their work to maintain these common aspects of our heritage and their explanations of their beliefs, but that wasn't why I so loved visiting the Kirtland Temple.

A lot of amazing things happened in the Kirtland Temple while the saints were there. There are reports of miraculous things happening at the two packed dedication services. Later, Christ, Moses, Elijah, and others appeared here. And though not all the ordinances we have in the temple were performed until the saints were in Nauvoo (so after the days of the Kirtland Temple), it was the first temple of the new dispensation--it opened this age of temple work. I felt such a special peace being inside it, and I felt close to and grateful to those who worked so hard for it.

It's a big building, and I got the impression that it's very delicate. There are three levels: two huge meeting rooms (with pew boxes and benches that could be shifted to face either way) on the first two floors, and offices upstairs. The main level meeting room was for everyone, the second level was for priesthood meetings and training. The upstairs offices were used by the First Presidency, but also used as a school on weekdays open to anyone.
On the way to dinner that night, we stopped to see Symons Ryder's grave. He was an early member of the Church; the reason he gave for leaving it was that Joseph Smith spelled his name wrong ("Rider") on his mission call. He was a wealthy man, and after he left the Church gave a lot of money to a college in the area, and was a leader in the Campbellite Church. "Disciple" in "disciple of Christ" is misspelled on his gravestone.

Isn't this a wonderful cemetery? We stopped really briefly, but there was a quick game of "Enemy and Defender," which involves lots of running and giggling, before we left...car keys were lost then found here, too.
The next day we flew to Saint Louis, then drove to Nauvoo. A brief stop in Hannibal, Mark Twain's home town.
By now we had a tour bus rather than cars. Everyone was excited as we drove into Nauvoo--excited to see the temple. There it is, on the hill. We drove in to Nauvoo from Missouri, talking about the saints being driven out--following their footsteps, so to speak. It was so hopeful--triumphal, even--to see the temple in Nauvoo. And when we left a few days later, we were again in their footsteps, this time to Salt Lake City. Salt Lake, where it all finally worked--enough for them to build their houses, city, temple. Enough for them to stay. It strikes me that I am living what they hoped and worked and sacrificed for.
At one of the Community of Christ gift shops in Nauvoo, our professor, Richard Bennett, noticed two or three books he had authored or co-authored. He asked one of the students for a pen, picked one up, and started signing. He let the visitor's center people know as he was through about half the stack.