Back In the Saddle Again

Good News: Maren and I both got crockpots for Christmas! Don't worry, we'll keep you posted on which one lasts longer. If you aren't laughing from the last sentence, read Crockpot Lasanga Surprise, and you'll understand.

Second Semester? Bring it on.

Live... well, almost live from Hobbit Hole Number Six:

Becoming the Tubanator

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Cami who came to own the title of "Tubateer," after all "Tuba player" has too many syllables and "Tubist" ... well... it's not exactly the classiest title in the world. My private Tuba teacher, whom I shall refer to as Gandalf,  loves this title to the point of referring to it at least once every lesson. I like hearing it myself, so I don't mind. Gandalf has suggested that now that I am in college I should create a new alter ego to work towards.
Gandlalf: "Something Arnold Schwarzenegger-esk..."
Me: "The... Tubanator?"
Gandalf: "Perfect! How do you come up with these so fast?"
I try, I try.
Anyways, up until this past summer I had been playing three-valve and four-valve B flat Tuba, but in college you are supposed to play C Tuba, preferably five-valve for intonation sake. So in the two and a half months of summer I had to forget everything I knew about B flat Tuba and replace it with C Tuba which was a little challenging for me. I also had to incorporate my thumb into my fingerings for my lower register which is great for intonation sake, but still difficult when your hand it used to moving a certain way.
Sorry, I'll skip to the good stuff that you will actually care about now. Thanks for hanging in there!
My hand hurt a little in this process because I was building muscle in my thumb and metacarpals, but I didn't think too much of it. Then, after I started school, it slowly started to get worse until all my knuckles and metacarpals hurt. Suddenly all of the pain seemed to go into my middle knuckle and at this point I was like, (please imagine me saying this in the middle of a field, staring up at the sky, and shaking my fist- to get the full affect of the quote)  "WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! CAN'T I JUST PLAY MY TUBA IN PEACE?!"
A few days later, this would be last saturday to be exact, the pain went back to being everywhere else in my hand so I decided to take Sunday off and give my hand some time to recover. That seemed to have been a good idea because on Monday my hand didn't really hurt. After I finished practicing, I looked at my hand and it looked a little swollen just below my first finger. I pressed it a little... no pain... I tapped it a little... nothing... I slapped it a little... still nothing. Then I flexed my first finger and thumb *POW!*
Alter Ego attained. Just call me the Tubanator.
In case you didn't notice it in the above picture, I'll point it out for you:

I'm pretty jazzed about this Hulk-hand thing. Not gonna lie.
I still feel like I'm more of a Tubateer than a Tubanator, but maybe it'll grow on me on day.

Conference Thoughts...

First of all, I checked facebook right after the first session of General conference only to find that no less than ALL of my friends will be going on missions in the near future and that people had already begun to make memes about it. The meme above was the best one I saw.

My thoughts? I am so elated. I think that it will be great for some young men to serve missions right out of High School. It will be amazing to the rest of the world that we are depending on such young people to do the Lord's missionary work, but that's great! The more people ask about it the better! Also, this lower eligibility age for women will hopefully get ride of the hilarious but horrible Sister Missionary stereotype.
It may shock you that I think this, but I also believe that it is important for us as Latter Day Saints to get married sooner rather than later; not to rush into marriage, but not to wait if you already know that it's right. I think that by lowering the eligibility age, especially for sisters, will help to achieve earlier marriage. As the world goes farther and farther away from prioritizing marriage and family, we must do all we can to move in the reverse from the world. Once again, not to the point of rushing and making foolish decisions, but being able to act on faith though the decision may seem hard to make. Now sisters can serve a mission and come home to find many an eligible bachelor their age, and elders can come home to find a return missionary of their own, too.
Sorry to change subjects suddenly, but I also want to talk about Elder Oaks' talk. This is exactly the talk that the whole world needed to hear to clarify- for the members and nonmembers alike- where the church stands on public issues. It is a talk that I will definitely read again in the Ensign. Children are so important: not only will they populate the earth after we're gone, they are an essential part of the family unit. We are all put into families in order to learn how to love first by being the son/daughter and sister/brother, and then by becoming the parent. It is through the family that we can learn to have the kind of love for everyone around us that our Heavenly Father has for us.
I loved everything that Elder Oaks said, but in particular, I loved that he said, "children dealing with same-sex attraction need loving understanding and not bullying." The world needs to know we believe that, and even more importantly we need to know we believe that. Too often, we are quick to condemn and late to love. Love must come first. To have it any other way would be a sin against God and his  commandment to love one another as He has loved us. Love must come first. It is one thing to respect a person and another to accept their actions as righteous. Acting on same-sex attraction is wrong, but it is also a trial that people are given. Hurting someone physically or emotionally will not help them through their trial. Loving them, understanding them, encouraging them, and teaching them to rely on their Redeemer will help them through whatever they are facing. Love must come first.

I picked the wrong day to wear heels.

I not a big fans of high heeled shoes. I rarely wear them, and when I do they are of medium height. I like it when they feel like character shoes. You know, the perfect height to do necessary things like tap dance and/or sing arias in.

Any way, I wore a lovely pair of black heels on Sunday with my favorite dress. Maren and I wanted to go see Music and The Spoken Word before church so we walked down the hill from the Hobbit Hole to the TRAX stop. We made it there in about ten minutes and should've been able to catch the TRAX a few minutes later, but it never came. Instead we stood there waiting for about twenty minutes. It felt strange and surreal; partially because we did not get enough sleep the night before. After staring at the schedule for a few minutes, crossing the street to wait at the bus stop for a bus that never came, and waiting for a few more minutes at the TRAX station, we asked the other people who were there. The girl was clueless, but the guy was on top of things and said that sometimes the TRAX doesn't come until 9:46 on Sundays.
Having given up on the whole idea after that, we decided to go home. For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to hike up the steeper road home instead of the longer but more reasonable road. I had taken off my shoes before we left the TRAX station, though, so my feet weren't bleeding by the time we got home.
After being home for a little bit, it was time to put my shoes back on and walk up the hill to the Institute. Luckily, the TRAX came when we got to the station west of the stadium so we only had to walk half the way.
It probably doesn't sound as weird as it felt, but remember that this whole time Maren and I were half asleep.
Basically what I'm trying to say is that I have some blisters.
I also wanted to talk, on a more serious note, about what our Bishop said to us in sacrament meeting. He talked about taking the name of the Lord in vain: "taking in vain" means more than just using it as an expletive. If we aren't thinking about him and what he did for us when we say his name, we are using his name in vain. I just have never thought about that before, and now that I know that I feel so bad for all the times when I have said his name in a sentence without showing him the proper respect. I don't use his name as an expletive, but that doesn't mean I am always thinking about the full meaning of his name when I use his name in context. Food for thought...

The Green Side of Tailgating

I love football. Therefore, I had to go to the Utah vs. BYU game. Enough said. But in case you haven't heard of or seen the MUSS (the Mighty Utah Student Section)... well, all I can say is that I did not want to be trampled, sprayed with beer, or molested in any other way. Luckily, my good friend Timone invited me to recycle with him at the game. Apparently, if you can get on the green police list, you get into the game for free, and I love trees so that was a done deal.
I'm just glad that Maren couldn't come; she literally would have died. Our responsibility as the green police was to go through all the rows of tailgaters and collect the aluminum cans, plastic and glass bottles.We had gloves, and I find drunk people to be hilarious so I didn't really mind. I also had Timone with me and we met another girl who tagged along with us.
Generally, the fans weren't too drunk, and they also were strangely eager to recycle. I never realized that tailgaters would openly enjoy recycling, but people kept coming up to us and thanking us for doing such a great service. I was also pleased that I only got sprayed with beer once and it was completely accidental: the girl who tagged along with us meant to throw a can into the trash bag I was holding but it hit me instead and it was not an empty can. Ah, c'est la vie.
The only problem I really had with the whole affair was just that I think it is very stupid that parents are content to smoke and drink- whether to be social or to get drunk- around their kids when they know their kids are learning in school not to do either of the two. It made me think of block parties and Halloween during my childhood in Maryland; the other kids' parents would be social and drink with each other despite the fact that their kids were right there or despite the fact that they were handing out candy to little children. I'm just very glad to be able to call my parents my parents because they have high standards. They kept us a safe distance from that without sheltering us and letting us be oblivious and naive. I'm lucky and happy to be part of the one percent.
So after getting beer on my only pair of jeans, reaching into trash can after trash can, and inhaling endless streams of cigarette and cigar smoke: was any of it worth it? That statement was definitely overdramatic. Yes, it was worth it! Without paying a cent, I got to sit on the back of the BYU football truck right off the field while watching my favorite sport. I have to admit that I thought we would lose, but I am happily surprised. I also have to admit that I left at half time, but it was because I didn't want Maren to ride the TRAX home from work alone. I also don't like people enough to leave at the very end of a football game with the rest of the fans.
All in all last night was a fine night for football and the ecosystem. I got to help save a few trees and though the Utes still aren't very good, we still beat BYU 24 to 21.
Go Utes!

Having trouble staying awake while doing homework?

Earlier this evening, I was practically falling asleep while writing a paper that is due tomorrow when Maren- my door fell off, so she could probably see my head drooping as I was "working"- walked into my room carrying a bowl full of Famous Dave's Signature Spicy Pickle chips, and said "This should keep you awake." They most definitely did. :)
I am reminded on a daily basis that Maren is the best roommate anyone could ask for.