Sorry You Didn't Receive the Gift that is Actually Nonexistent: A Christmas Gift Giving Guide

Do give coupons: Remember when you were in first grade and your school teacher helped you make coupons for your parents for free car washes and breakfast in bed? My parents thought they were so cute they wouldn't even use them, they just put them in the "cute things Rachel did, but not cute enough to put them on the fridge" pile. The great news is that these coupons never stopped being awesome! I still give a stack of coupons to both my parents every year and they are always greeted with "Wow!" and "I never would've guessed that this is what you would get me!" If you are good at ignoring sarcasm, they sound pretty excited. There are many benefits to giving coupons as gifts. Obviously it fits well into my college Christmas present budget, which is approximately $0.02 per family member. Another great thing is that my track record for my dad using my coupons is currently 0 for 389. I could promise to take my dad to the moon and would be in the back yard, busily preparing for take off and my dad probably wouldn't even use them. This is great because since they are never used, you can promise to do anything and never actually have to do it. Another great thing about coupons is that you can get really creative with them. It is not rare to give my mother a coupon granting her permission to take me to Hawaii, or letting my dad take me to Chicago to see a Cubs game. I have also been known to make coupons offering the service of my siblings, which usually goes over very well. (As long as "very well" means that my siblings get really confused but don't take me to jail for forgery.)

Don't buy something for someone that someone else wanted. When I was younger, I really wanted a life sized Barbie doll. I had seen them throughout the holiday ads and mentioned it to my parents, but as the financially responsible 8 year old I was, I realized it was way too expensive to expect under the tree. Christmas came and went, and I probably wasn't even very sad I didn't receive it because as a financially responsible 8 year old I most likely realized my parents were saving up for my college education. You know, just your mature 8 year old. A few Christmases passed, and my wish list changed from Barbies to things like palm pilots, since every 13 year old needs a good personal digital assistant. (You think I'm joking, but I got one and it totally rocked. I was rarely late to any play dates and I always knew how much my parents should tip the waiter.) The morning of Christmas, my little sister had a gigantic box to open. As she tore off the wrapping, there, in all it's glory, stood a life sized Barbie. And it didn't even have my name on it. I think my sister must have said something like, "Oh, well that's pretty cool." Pretty cool?!? Pretty cool!? Santa brings you a 3 foot Barbie doll with two different outfits and clips for her hair AND YOU JUST THINK IT'S PRETTY COOL?!? A gift my sister didn't even ask for. So there I was, opening up my digital planner and started my first journal entry entitled, 'Santa can Apparently Bring Worse Things than Coal, Like Broken Dreams.'

Do wrap your present in an even bigger box, and then put puzzle pieces in said box. This completely throws people off when they're trying to guess what you actually purchased for them.

Don't ever ask, "Well what do you think I got you?" This gives time for people to list off things that they actually wanted to receive from you, instead of the coupon you created for them granting them permission to do your dishes. Set low expectations.

Do think things through before giving a gift. When I am purchasing a gift for someone, I like to think, "Would the person I am giving this gift to use it to make my life miserable?" For example, my mother is a big fan of practical gifts. She loves receiving gifts that make her life easier, and doesn't really mind receiving household items. However, if my mom asked for a vacuum for Christmas, I would most certainly not purchase her a vacuum because then she would actually make me use it. It's important to remember everything is a risk, unfortunately. One year my mom mentioned she would like some Christmas-y dishes for the holiday season, so I made sure to purchase the dessert platter instead of the vegetable tray. Imagine my dismay when the day after the platter was opened it was used to hold carrots, none of which were covered in Nutella.

Don't forget to make/buy gifts for people you probably should give to. If you do, that person you forgot to shop for will probably stop by your house unexpectedly to give you a super thoughtful gift featuring everything you like in the world, probably costing 7 trillion dollars. You will then be forced to run into the other room, grab something from your stocking that Santa Claus just delivered to you, put a bow on it, and give it to your friend. Your family will be in the other room, laughing at you. This experience once again showed that my decision making skills start to crumble during pressure, joining the many times I've been walking in the dark and have started to run away from dark, dangerous animals that turn out to be people on skateboards.

Do talk up your gift if it can't be fact checked. More than once in my life, someone has said, "I can't wait to see what you got me! I'm sure it's awesome!" More than once in my life I have also explained that I have shot off fireworks or rented a plane to write in the sky, 'Congratulations!' or 'Happy Birthday!'. This is totally fine because it can't be fact checked. If someone said they never saw it, I explain how sad it was they must not have been looking at the sky because the gift was THE COOLEST THING EVER. This way the receiver of the nonexistent gift feels sad, not you, the thoughtless person that you are.

May you all give dessert plates that are used as dessert plates, and may you receive the life sized Barbie doll you always wanted.

The Little Engine that Couldn't

     Last week I was able to spend my Thanksgiving in the beautiful land of T-Rex (Rexburg), Idaho with my family. Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays, along with Christmas, National Donut Day, and Columbus Day. But Thanksgiving is by far my favorite because it incorporates my favorite things: eating a large meal, spending time with family, playing and watching football, napping, and eating apple pie for breakfast the next day. All the while, people are counting their blessings and taking time to notice what they do have, instead of what they don't. Here are a few blessings that I counted during my Thanksgiving break:

Friends: The week before I set out to drive to T-Rex, one of my car tires looked incredibly low. I've never filled my tires with air before, so my best friend Cami offered to come help me. She didn't even complain that we had to go fill the tires in the freezing cold! I also got to see my good friend Melissa when I got to T-Rex. Melissa is one of those people that makes you want to live up to your potential and I was so grateful I got to see her.

Maps: When I mentioned that I needed to look up how to get from my apartment to Idaho, my dad just said, "Rachel. You get on the freeway. You get off the freeway 4 hours later. That's all." But since I'm the person who called my mom when I couldn't find Target last week, I was pretty sure I couldn't handle driving to another state. When I arrived in T-Rex and hadn't called my parents OR begged some random farmer for directions, I gave myself a big pat on the back and told myself that I was truly a prodigy.

Temples and my family:  While in town I got to do a lot of fun things with my family, but one of the best parts was going to go do baptisms for the dead with my entire family (minus one of my brothers, who's on a mission) at the LDS temple. It was such a great experience to do that as a family, and I'm so grateful to have family around to always help me become my best self.

Birthday Cakes and Mom: Even though my birthday isn't for another 11 months, my mother made me my special lemon birthday cake because we weren't together on my last birthday.

Costumes and my sister: Continuing our tradition from last year, my sister and I dressed up for Thanksgiving. Unfortunately we were not met with the same maturity that the original pilgrims and Indians were met with. I'm grateful I have a sister who does such random things with me!

Warm Weather: When my family was moving to T-Rex, all I heard about was how terribly frigid the winters were. "Wait until your nose hairs freeze!" my brother would always tell me. Just the week before I got there, the wind chill was supposed to be between -20 degrees and -40 degrees. However, when I got there, the weather was pretty nice! We even got to play football in our backyard in short sleeved shirts. However, the last day or two I was there the weather started to get nasty again. And whenever I went outside to get to my car you could hear me screaming against the wind to my dad, "COULD YOU HAVE POSSIBLY WORSE PLACE THAN THIS?!?"

Antifreeze, Cell Phones, Prayer, and My Parents: When my mom asked me when I was driving back to Utah, I told her I would stay until the last minute possible, as per usual. Obviously that meant staying until at least dinner, so I could maximize the number of home cooked meals. Multiple times my mom would tell me how she wanted me to leave earlier, because she didn't want me to drive in the dark. She constantly said over and over again how if something wrong happened with my car, she didn't want me to have troubles in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. She didn't want me to have to drive through a snowstorm. She didn't want me to fall asleep at the wheel. My mom loves me a lot, which is why she worries about me a lot. Every time after she expressed her worries, I would say, "That's okay. I'll be fine." Then I would remind her that I've driven in the dark and the snow, I sing very loudly to keep myself awake, and I have the ability to consume pounds and pounds of pasta, just in case someone kidnaps me at the creepy gas station in the middle of nowhere and won't let me go until I eat 10 bowls of three cheese ravioli. Obviously, I was not worried.
      I set off to Provo right after dinner, and planned to get to my apartment at 10. I made a wrong turn when I was trying to find the freeway, but eventually found the entrance. "Well that started this trip out on the right note," I said, and laughed to myself longer than necessary, because I wasn't worried about getting back. I was cruising for 45 minutes, and then my 'Check Engine Soon' sign turned on. I didn't let that bother me, because my car has a history of that light turning on and off again, with hardly any reason at all. In fact, I mentioned it in my previous blog post, laughing at the fact that it finally turned off again.
     I drove for another 45 minutes and had reached the city of Pocatello. The speed limit is slower there,  so I started slowing the car down as I drove through the city. Just as I was leaving Pocatello I tried to accelerate my car, and nothing was happening. I couldn't go any faster. In fact, I was going slower. Then my car started jerking. I was still moving forward, but it was somewhat reminiscent of the day I first learned to drive, when I would move two feet and then slam on the breaks. All of a sudden my car could only go 60 miles per hour. Then 40. Then 30. The heater turned off and freezing air started coming through the vents into my car, and immediately I think that since it's getting colder, dementors are coming to steal my soul, like in Harry Potter. The independent college girl who had assured her mother that driving at night would be no problem, and that she could inhale 50 plates of pasta on demand was all of a sudden driving 30 miles an hour on the freeway in a car that was jerking more than the Dinosaur Drop ride at Lagoon with dementors after her. I started to pull over, but as I did the car stopped jerking, so I got back on the freeway. No more than 10 feet later, it started jerking again. Fortunately there was an exit just up ahead, and I was really looking forward to pulling into a gas station and looking at my car. As per Idaho stereotype, the exit instead led me to a middle of nowhereish road, no people, and no gas stations in sight. I found a place to park and called my parents. I specifically called my dad, as to not worry my mom. However, when the person picked up on the other end, it was definitely my mom. After our hellos, she asked if everything was okay. Obviously I started off by telling her that everything was great!

Then I looked out my window and remembered that the only other thing that that could hear me were cows, so I told her what really happened. When I was talking to my parents, however, I started my car and it was acting fine! I decided to see how far it would take me, with a promise to call back if there were problems. I got back on the freeway at normal speed. I had gone less than a mile when the car started jerking again. I called back home, and my dad promised to come get me. We also agreed that my mom definitely should have warned me that I shouldn't drive at night in the middle of nowhere, because there may be problems with my car. (Obviously not. But when I was on the phone with my dad I'm not sure if it was my mother or the voice in my head that sounds exactly like my mother that said, "This is why you don't drive to Utah at night!!")
     So there I sat, on the side of the freeway in the middle of some Idaho farmland right next to mile marker 60, losing feeling in my feet because it was so cold. Just as I was beginning to wonder if I really was in a state where people actually lived, or if I truly was the only one left during a zombie apocolypse, a cop pulled up to help me find the problem of my car, which was that I was all out of antifreeze, even though I had just filled it up the week before. (He also gave me some flares to put around my car, which would be awesome if I wasn't terrified of fire. Unfortunately, he gave it to the girl who made her roommate light her jack-o-latern on Halloween so she wouldn't have to get too close. Nevertheless, it was a nice thought.)

And then, two hours later, my dad arrived at mile marker 60, a container of antifreeze in his hand. Not only did he help me get the car up and running, but he followed me for the next 45 miles to make sure we thought my car would last through the night, with the promise of following me all the way to Provo if he needed to. Once the antifreeze was full again, my car was seemingly back to normal. (I found out later that I had a cracked radiator, which is why even though I had filled the antifreeze just a few weeks prior, it was completely drained.) Once my dad and I reached Malad, he drove the two hours back to T-Rex, and I drove the two hours to Provo. Yes, I arrived in Provo in the early hours of the morning in a car I knew I would need to take in to the repair shop for hundreds of dollars in repairs. Yes, I was exhausted and had seemingly just wasted a lot of time doing nothing. However, I was grateful. I'm so grateful that my car broke down in a place where my cell phone had service. I'm grateful that I have a dad that left the house to come save me without an extra thought, and didn't even seem to mind that he would be up all night. I'm grateful for a dad who works hard, and let me know that making sure I was okay was more important than his workday the next day. I'm grateful for a mom who waits up to make sure I get where I'm going safely, even if it's hours away. I'm grateful for a mother who insisted I take half a pumpkin pie back to Provo, along with half of the family food storage. I'm grateful for parents who give me a glimpse of how much my Heavenly parents must love me. I'm grateful that I could get back to Provo safely from spending a lovely week with the people I love most. I'm grateful for all the friends that I can count on that could've come to help me with my car. I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father who listened to my constant prayers when I asked him for help to know what to do. I'm grateful for a sense of humor, so not only can I laugh about the experience now, but while it was happening, in the dark, beautiful fields of Idaho.

There are always things to be grateful for, and from now on, I'm going to act like it.

P.S. Mom, you were right.(Again)

Pardon My French: Things People Should Never Say

If I was the president of the world, there would be a few things people wouldn't be allowed to say. Teachers wouldn't be able to give unnecessary lectures about how you shouldn't start a project the night before it's due, and dentists wouldn't be allowed to tell your parents that you've neglected to floss for the past 37 months and therefore have a mouth full of cavities. Unfortunately I have been a little too busy to be campaigning for president, but in the meantime I have created a list of things that have actually been said to me in the past month that would not be okay under my rule:

1.When my birthday rolled around I went to the DMV to renew my driver's license. I gave the man at the front desk my documents and sat down to get my picture taken. After the man instructed me to say cheese and the camera clicked, he said, "Looks great! Let's just...oh. Sweetheart, you have a darling smile, but we're going to need to take that one again." Apparently when I smile too big, it's a tad bit difficult to see my eyes, so the man told me to not smile as big. Sorry world, I am apparently too happy to have a driver's license. He took the picture again, this time with me trying to smile with my eyes wide open, which slightly resembled a face that Ronald McDonald would make. The man looked at the picture, then up and me, and said, "Um, okay. We'll see." The Ronald McDonald photo is now on my license. I wish I could say that this was the only time I've ever had to try to take a good driver's license picture multiple times, but when I first got my permit the lady taking the picture sat me down and told me, "No big smiles." When she was just about to snap the picture, my mom jumped in to fix my hair, so the picture ended up being a nice memory of my mom always having my back. (At least that's what I thought, until the grumpy DMV lady deleted it and insisted we take a new one.) By that time I was laughing so hard that my eyes couldn't be seen at all.   

2. How's everything going, sir? This is something completely fine to say to a man on the subway, a father waiting for his meal at a restaurant, one of those 9 year old prodigy billionaires who thinks they need a butler, or a grandpa playing golf. This is NOT something that should be said to a college girl at the grocery store. But after the cashier asked me this, I flipped my hair and girlishly giggled as I daintily swiped my debit card to pay for my groceries. Then I happily pranced off with my food. By the time that I got home, I realized I had devastatingly left a bag of groceries at the store. But I refused to go retrieve it because I AM APPARENTLY VERY MANLY AND HUNT FOR FOOD ON MY OWN. Really though, I didn't go back to get my last bag of groceries because I figured that an establishment that mistook me for a man is also probably an establishment that would want to poison me.

3. What's that smell? Again, this phrase is okay in specific cases, like if someone has bought you a surprise burrito and they are giving it to you as a surprise. You should not have to ask yourself, however, what the stench emitting from your backpack is, because you should NOT have left oranges at the bottom of your backpack for a month. In the morning when I pack my lunches I think I'm being really awesome because I'm being healthy by packing fresh fruits and vegetables, but let me say that this has only ended in pain, heartache, and toxic fumes. I formally apologize to the people I take classes with and the entire campus of BYU. Fermented orange juice is on me.

4. "Rachel, this looks like something you would definitely wear!" This sentence is usually proceeded by someone holding up some weird sweater that looks like it was knit out of rodent hair. There truly is no better way to tell someone that their style was actually never in style.

4. Check Engine Soon. The 'Check Engine Soon' light in my car is almost there as often as the steering wheel is. It turned on years ago, and every time I go get it fixed it turns right back on again. I now use the word 'soon' very relatively. For example, some people say, "I'll see you soon." when they are five minutes away from their friend's house, but then you hear reports about how 'soon global warming will destroy our entire atmosphere'. I prefer to take the global warming approach, and take my car in to get fixed as little as possible. I learned this week when the light randomly turned off that 'Check Engine Soon' actually means to check your engine soon, or wait 11 months and it'll all get figured out on its own.

5. People often use air quotes when they are saying something that they don't believe themselves. For example, I would use air quotes when saying, "Eating eight donuts for breakfast is a bad idea." I usually use my 'why am I surrounded by fools?' tone of voice and then attempt to roll my eyes so hard that they get close to falling out of their sockets. This, however, that I found at the school I teach at, was not the best use of quotes:

I'm sure the students would "love" to have "yummy" pumpkin pie. I'm sure they would also "love" if the whipped cream was made of brussel sprouts. Quotes just add confusion and sarcasm.

In case you are reading this and thinking that I'm only accusing others, please know that I asked a group of guys today how their freshman year was going, when it turns out they are in their third year. Needless to say, that was the end of the conversation.

May you all have perfect driver's license pictures on the first try.

The Unbreakable Vow

There is only one important rule in the Hardy family. This is not to say that we only have one rule, or that my siblings and I grew up as savages. We had the usual put your dishes in the dishwasher, be home by curfew, eat your vegetables (I only violated this one once or 5,000 times), and do your chores. My parents taught us to get along and that we needed to learn to laugh at ourselves or we would be missing a lot of great humor. I even found this family rules list created by my younger brother for his scout troop. Clearly our priorities are in order.

These rules are all important, but if you asked my dad what the greatest thing he's taught me is, it wouldn't be any of those. There is one important rule in the Hardy family: Never leave a sporting event early. Never.  Not when it's raining. Not when it's blizzarding. Not if it's getting dark. Not when it's too cold or too hot, not if the half time show is boring, not if you're sitting in the nosebleeds. Not if you want to leave early to avoid traffic. Not even if it's late, you have a long drive home, you forgot a jacket, and you're sopping wet because a tsunami just hit the field. It doesn't matter if you're bored or if it's already very clear who the winner of the game is. There is no asterisk next to our one family rule, and there never will be. You can NOT leave a sporting event early.

My siblings and I have all learned this the hard way. I can't count the number of games I've been to with my dad, some harder to follow the family rule than others. My dad would take me to the BYU football games, some of them being incredibly frigid. I remember sitting there on the frozen bleachers shaking in my coat. Would we leave the game early if I shook so much that I shook the rest of the fans off the bleachers? Would we leave early if my eyelids froze shut? Would we go if it snowed so much that we couldn't see the game? Would we leave early if the entire football team slipped on ice and broke their backs? Would we leave early if I died of frostbite? I didn't even have to say a word as my dad turned to me and said, "We're not leaving the game early, but I'll buy you some hot chocolate."

This is a family rule I grew to love. No matter the game, the score, or the temperature, we stayed. Sometimes it was just me and my dad, and sometimes my siblings came too, but we stayed. The rule came about because of my dad's true love of sports, and it has certainly instilled that love in me. It's also been a great way for me to spend time with members of my family. When I moved to college, I still tried to go to as many games as I could. I spent hours at games with my friends cheering on my favorite team. One football game my freshman year, the group I was with decided to leave after the third quarter because they were hungry. For a small moment I figured they had a good point. The game was late at night and the winner was clear. I then remembered that on the other side of Lavell Edwards stadium, thousands of people away, was my dad. And here were my friends, telling me they were hungry. WHO DID THEY THINK THEY WERE?! They thought they could just get up and leave with 15 minutes of football time left to go?! Didn't they know that so much could still happen? Didn't they know we needed to be there for our team?! Didn't they know the family rule?! It was then that I learned that not everyone has the same rules as my family, and this one is just a little too hard to explain sometimes. So I left. And I felt horrible.

I haven't left many games early since then, so I guess it's like father like daughter. Those who know me well are now very aware of the family rule. Last night I went to the BYU/Utah State football game with one of my very best friends, Emmie. Within the first few minutes of the game, BYU scored and the crowd was electric. It didn't take too long, however, for Utah State to catch up. Injuries were happening left and right, and it seemed like the Cougars couldn't complete a single pass. The Aggies kept making great plays, and by the fourth quarter streams of people were leaving. There was hardly anyone left sitting around us, and it was getting even colder. As another interception was thrown with BYU being already down two touchdowns, there was a pretty clear winner. A friend sitting next to us said he was leaving and offered us a ride home. Yes, it was late. It was cold. It was going to take a handful of miracles for BYU to win the game. Of course people were going to leave. Before I had time to say anything, in the truest act of friendship Emmie said, "We can't go. Rachel has this really important family rule where they can't leave the game early." 97 CHEERS FOR EMILY BUMA. If there was an award for being a really great human being, Emmie would not only be a winner, but it would also probably be named after her. She was definitely ready to go, but she knew that staying until the end was important to me. (In case you're wondering how truly great she is, let me just tell you that last week we went to the movies and bought a jumbo container of popcorn. We got a refill right before we left and as she was driving us home I accidentally tipped THE ENTIRE CONTAINER OF POPCORN ALL OVER THE PASSENGER SEAT. No, I'm not talking a couple of pieces. The container fell out of my hands and was completely empty when I picked it up. I was all of a sudden knee deep in buttery goodness, and all Emmie did was laugh. She wasn't even angry when I informed her she would smell like popcorn for the rest of her life. Yes, she's wonderful.) 

So we stayed until the very last second of the very last quarter. And even though BYU lost, I still felt a kind of happiness inside. On our way home I texted my dad and said he should be extra proud of us for staying. "I'm glad you maintained your integrity" was the reply.

10 Averagely Cool Things You can do in T-Rex, Idaho

Lebron James took his talent to South Beach (and then back again) and my family took their talents to Rexburg, Idaho. In July, my mom informed me that my dad was going to be interviewing for a job there, but this didn't bother me too much. I figured that my dad would never take a job in Rexburg because he would have to make the connection that if he worked in Rexburg, he would have to LIVE in Rexburg. Not that Rexburg is a bad place, but you would think that my family couldn't even bear the thought of leaving the state where I was continuing my education, right? Wrong.

Within a month, my dad was offered a job in the middle of nowhere, my family packed up the house that was in the middle of somewhere, denied a humble but sincere offer on the house made by a beautiful, intelligent college student (you would have thought that they would have remembered that my birthday is coming up. Also, $50 is a pretty good deal for a house with carpet that my sister and I accidentally painted), sold the house to someone that was not me, and proceeded to move to the middle of nowhere. In the middle of all that, you could find me sitting at the kitchen bar crying, "What if I need a Halloween costume?! What if I need a sleeping bag?! What if I need art supplies?!" It was then that I learned that apparently when college students need something, they usually just go to the store and buy it instead of travelling home and stealing everything that my family owns. This is a novel idea, which I may try someday.

Before classes at BYU started, I decided to make the trek up to T-Rex to see the city before my family officially moved there. (Yes, I now call Rexburg T-Rex for obvious reasons of coolness.)  Sometimes a small town is described as a one horse town. I think a more accurate description of T-Rex would be a one pony town. Or maybe a one guinea pig town. Or better yet, a one potato town. It's true, on the first glance, there's nothing there but BYU- Idaho and a bunch of fields. On the 80th glance, that's probably the same thing you'll see. But with 4 days to spend in T-Rex, my mom and I were determined to see the sights. Like what I would do if I were going to visit Venice or London, I googled the best things to do there. With only 4 days there, I didn't want to spend my precious vacation time at any boring places. So I did my research. I was actually pleasantly surprised at what I found. There were hikes, waterfalls, sand dunes, craters, and plenty of places to explore! I began to think that not only should my family move here, but that I should probably transfer to BYU-Idaho, buy a "Idaho is my Ida-HOME" t-shirt and set up camp for the rest of my life. Upon further research, however, I realized that my google searches didn't bring up things to do in Rexburg, but things to do NEAR Rexburg. Things to do CLOSE TO Rexburg. Things that were in the same STATE as Rexburg. NEARBY REXBURG AND CLOSE TO REXBURG ARE NOT THE SAME AS BEING IN REXBURG, FOLKS. Quite frankly, I am surprised that someone didn't claim that the Eiffel Tower is something cool to see in Rexburg, because technically Rexburg and the Eiffel Tower are on the same planet, and Rexburg and France both have a 'R' in their name. So I did more research and found an actual article of things to do without leaving T-Rex. The result had my mother and I laughing so hard we were crying, unless they were real tears, because some of the suggestions were so hilarious: Go to the gym. Take a bubble bath. Drink hot chocolate. Do service. Yes, these are all great ideas if you are bored, but you could also do any of those things in the Sahara Desert, if you really wanted. So instead of sitting in the hotel reading articles about T-Rex for the entire week, my mom and I decided to go see what the town has to offer. I have now created my own list:

 Averagely Fun Things to Do in T-Rex

 

 1. Eat lunch at the Madison Middle School parking lot. When we first got to T-Rex, we had our sack lunches and nowhere to stay, so we had our lunch here. There was a great view of the parking lot and probably the best view of the highway in Rexburg that anyone will ever have. An added bonus is that people will probably stare at you because you look homeless.

2. Buy ice cream at Dairy Queen. My mom usually makes after-school snacks, but since we didn't officially have a kitchen yet, Dairy Queen stepped up to the plate.

3. Go to the Madison County Library. Not only do their computers have internet, but they also have a thrilling anime book series about a prince of tennis that I found as my siblings did their homework. Also the library features a bathroom, which will be useful to you in case you move to Rexburg but you don't officially have a house yet.





4. Stop by Rexburg's appliance store, Bingham and Son's. Because I am a super rich college student, my main hobby is shopping for refrigerators. I spent at least half an hour helping my mom pick the best fridge. (False. My mom researched refrigerators, and I went around the store opening the doors of each fridge, praying there was actually food in one of them.)

5. Visit the Rexburg LDS Temple. This item actually belongs on the 'Awesome' list instead of the 'averagely cool' list. No matter where you are in the world, you can always feel the Spirit when you visit.

6. Drive down Pole Line Road. This road is the epitome of middle of nowhere. One minute you're driving by houses, and the next minute you're surrounded by hay bales and can see fields for miles.

 7. Shop at your neighborhood Wal Mart. Among other things, I found a great locker chandelier. I only wish I was back in high school so I actually had a locker to hang it in.

 

8. Eat breakfast at the local hotel. Every morning I went down for breakfast, there were mini Nutella packets to put on your bagels. This is by far one of the best things that T-Rex has to offer, and we took full advantage. My brother took the liberty of spreading Nutella not just over his bagels, but his ham, sausage, and eggs as well.

9. Pick an apple from the orchard on the campus of BYU-Idaho. I felt just like I was back in Provo since there was no parking on campus, but the orchard was beautiful. One of my favorite Greek Proverbs (also probably the only Greek Proverb I know) says that "A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in."

 

10. Visit the newly established Hardy household. This one also belongs on the 'Awesome' list. My mom's cooking is the best, my dad will give you great advice, and my siblings will make you laugh so hard you can cry. There is also a literal cupboard under the stairs, which is apparently my room, which I share with the Christmas decorations.

If you did everything on this list, it would probably take you AT LEAST 39 minutes, so you would probably also have time for other cool things that I failed to mention such as going to the gas station and squinting through the fields to see an actual mountain. Unfortunately I was only there for 4 days, so I could only complete things list approximately 57 times. As much as I like to tease T-Rex, the really great thing about the town is the people. From the person that helped install the blinds to the landscaper, each person welcomed us here with a kind smile. I hope they appreciate that they just inherited even more great people this month.

Batman's Gotham City = Rachel's Sports Camps

Last month I said a sad sayonara to something I love with my whole heart: BYU Sports Camps. Those who spend time with me are no doubt praising the heavens, because apparently that is the only thing I know how to talk about. Not only was it sufficient to tell my roommates a hilarious story from camp, but then I'd also have to tell my parents. Then my neighbors. And then I'd tell my roommates a second time, because if they didn't laugh as hard as me they must not have heard it.

There are a few things that made this summer of Sports Camps particularly wonderful:

1. One of the best parts of my job was ensuring the pizza was delivered to 7 Peaks before the campers arrived. Every week, it was just me and 100 pizzas, hanging out. I was in heaven.

2. The day that our boss decided to dump orange jello down Derek's shirt. Also the day that he decided to light the ends of Derek's hair on fire.

 

 

3.  The campers who thought it would be a great idea to catch seagulls by covering a camper with a beach towel, and then placing pizza on the beach towel. What the next step of their plan was, I will never know.  

 

 

4. The time that a game of 'Red Light Green Light' turned into the campers tackling their innocent counselor.

     

 

 

5. Deciding who had to do lunch duty by determining who was worse at Super Smash Brothers.

 

 

 

6. The time when our catered lunch was delivered to the wrong place and the NFL's Chad Lewis and all the 8 year olds started a riot.      

 

 

7. Spending time with campers that I was a counselor over the previous year.

 

 

8. Coming up with excuses to go out onto the football field. Rumor has it that Bronco Mendenhall would like to recruit me, but I can neither deny or confirm that statement.

 

9. Finding Derek asleep under our table after a long day.

 

 

10. Making some of my best friends ever

 

 

11. People finally calling me by my correct name.

 

 

12. Being able to work in one of the prettiest places ever

 

 

 

 

Obviously it was a summer that I loved. One of the things that I loved most, however, was how needed I felt. This may seem strange, but Sports Camps was able to happen this summer because it was something that the people in our office had been preparing for almost an entire year. Sports Camps needed Derek and me because we hired all the counselors. The counselors needed us because we helped assign them campers and made sure they got paid every week. The campers needed us because we were planning activities and making sure they were being taken care of. I decided that just like Batman looks over Gotham City, I would look over Helaman Halls. Gotham needed Batman, Sports Camps needed Rachel Hardy.

 

However, that's not exactly true. Anyone could have done exactly what I did for Sports Camps. In fact, tons of people could have done a much better job than me. Luckily, though, Heavenly Father is mindful of each one of us. He wants us to grow and become more like him. Sometimes we grow through trials we are asked to face, but sometimes there are simply experiences, not trials, that He gives us to grow. Sports Camps was that for me. I am so grateful that Heavenly Father saw the areas I needed to grow in and let me do that through Sports Camps. Because of the experiences I had, and people I was able to associate with, I became more humble. I learned how to work hard, and be more selfless. I was able to grow closer to my Heavenly Father as I asked him for help to be a better person every single morning, and every single night. I was able to feel his love more fully in my life.

 

No, Sports Camps didn't need me. I needed Sports Camps.

As the summer was coming to a close, I felt the lonely feeling of not being needed anymore. No one would be calling me in the middle of the night for medicine anymore, and gone were the days of frantic parents who were worried about their child. I loved the feeling of being to help others whenever I could. It took me a little while to realize that I still WAS needed. Heavenly Father still needed me, and he needs each one of us. The reason I loved Sports Camps so much is because I was able to spread the gospel of Jesus Christ by word and example every single day. I was able to testify of my Savior Jesus Christ and influence the lives of others, and Heavenly Father still needed me.

In one of my favorite General Conference talks, Jeffrey R. Holland speaks about the time after Jesus Christ was Resurrected and visited the apostles still on the earth. The apostles had gone back to their fishing, as they were fisherman before the Savior had come to minister. The Savior asks the apostle Peter if he loves him. Peter answers, "Lord,...thou knowest I love thee." (John 21:16)

Elder Holland continues the story, "To which Jesus responded (and here again I acknowledge my nonscriptural elaboration), perhaps saying something like: “Then Peter, why are you here? Why are we back on this same shore, by these same nets, having this same conversation? Wasn’t it obvious then and isn’t it obvious now that if I want fish, I can get fish? What I need, Peter, are disciples—and I need them forever. I need someone to feed my sheep and save my lambs. I need someone to preach my gospel and defend my faith. I need someone who loves me, truly, truly loves me, and loves what our Father in Heaven has commissioned me to do. Ours is not a feeble message. It is not a fleeting task. It is not hapless; it is not hopeless; it is not to be consigned to the ash heap of history. It is the work of Almighty God, and it is to change the world. So, Peter, for the second and presumably the last time, I am asking you to leave all this and to go teach and testify, labor and serve loyally until the day in which they will do to you exactly what they did to me.”"

 

 

Our Heavenly Father needs me, and our Heavenly Father needs you. He needs us to love Him and live like it. He needs us to be better disciples and to be better friends. Just like he needs us, we need Him.

 

I am so grateful for the experiences I've had over the past year that have increased my testimony of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. And even though it's over, every night I still quitely pray, "Heavenly Father, thank you for letting me be part of Sports Camps."

My Own Worst Roommate

There are hundreds of weird things about college ranging from the way college students cook to how they spend their free time (will someone please explain to me why someone can ask you to hang out at 10pm and it isn't that weird? I'm usually in my second REM cycle by the time some people are on their first round of the 'gallon challenge'.) but one of the truly weirdest things about growing up and moving out is the phenomena of roommates. My first two years of college, I moved in with completely random people. I'm no stranger to taking risks, as sometimes I walk under ladders and some nights I go to bed without flossing. All of these pale in comparison to moving in with a total stranger. One afternoon you're moving in your dishes and asking your roommate what their major is, and then just a few hours later you're sleeping under the same roof as them, still unsure what their little quirks are. Maybe they snore. Maybe they forget to close the refrigerator door. Maybe the whistle in that shrilly frequency you just can't stand, or maybe they're the roommate who has a boyfriend who never leaves the couch. The point is, you have no idea about this human being sleeping in the bed next to you, but there you go, putting all your trust in them, hoping they're not eating your Berry Colossal Crunch in the middle of the night. It really wasn't until my second year of college when I realized how odd this was, and as I was getting ready for bed that night and turned to my roommate who I had met just hours earlier, and said, "Hey, this is super weird to me. I just met you, and basically now I'm trusting you with my life. You could be a serial killer!" Then we laughed for a good long while. Then I lay in bed that night with one eye open.

I am pleased to say that I have had some really great roommates. However, there's one roommate that sometimes drives me up the wall: myself.

One day I remember leaving my bedroom to go work on a school project in the kitchen. I got my things and left the bedroom, only to set up my stuff and realize that I had forgotten something. I went back to my room and noticed that nobody was in the room, but the light was still on. I felt a little miffed that my roommate had forgotten to turn the light off. I certainly wouldn't consider myself a tree hugger, but I like to make sure we don't leave the lights on so that we don't have to pay a big electricity bill. I got what I needed and left the room. No more than 20 minutes passed by, and I realized that I needed a book from my room. I walked into my room and yet AGAIN, the light was on, but still no roommate. I was a little bothered now: in between the time I had been upstairs and turned off the light after her previous blunder and when I went to grab my book, she managed to come upstairs, turn the light on, and then leave again. What, was she raised by wolves?! Was mine truly the only elementary school that talked about the importance of conserving?! I left the room, only to come back at the end of my project with the light on again, blazing like the sun. AGAIN, PEOPLE. There I was, working hard on my homework, and all my roommate was doing was walking into our room, turning on the light and leaving, and destroying our environment one light switch at a time. I remember thinking how grateful I was that at least I wasn't trying to destroy our beautiful world. Good thing that there was someone like me to step in and yet again save the universe. Good thing I was not so OBLIVIOUS that I was costing my roommates more with our electricity bill. As I was congratulating myself for another job well done, my roommate walked in. I was about to inform her that NO she could NOT continue to get away with environment-wasting crimes such as these, when she shook some snow off her coat. And then I realized: my roommate had been gone the entire evening. She was just getting back from her night class. I had been at my apartment ALL ALONE. It was ME who kept forgetting to turn the light off. I would walk upstairs, realize the light was on, roll my eyes at my roommate, and then leave, with the light still on.

Yes, I truly am my own worst roommate. This summer I stayed in my own dorm room. One of the perks, besides being able to talk out loud to myself whenever I wanted, was being able to control the thermostat. It's not uncommon for there to be a thermostat war going on between roommates, and this time I wouldn't have to fight with anyone. I made sure to turn the thermostat down nice and low, so I could justify sleeping with my gigantic comfy quilt in the middle of the summer. The next morning, I awoke to GOOSEBUMPS on my arms, and I'm fairly certain I had to scrape frost off my desk. What kind of person thinks it's okay to make the dorm room Antarctica?! Oh yeah, that's right. ME. I made sure to turn that thermostat nice and high once I was able to crack the icicles off. I returned that night to my room which was actually not my room anymore and was instead an OVEN. I walked over to change there thermostat again, this time wishing I had oven mitts. Again: what kind of person tries to make their own Sahara Desert right in the middle of campus?! Oh, right. ME. This kind of thing went on all summer as I would pull myself out of bed in the middle of the night because SOMEONE decided that living in her own snow globe would be a great idea.

Yes, I am my own worst roommate. But sometimes, it's totally worth it.

 

Lessons Learned, No More Police

If I had to explain to someone what I've been doing for the past 9 month, 2% of it would be dedicated to my schooling, 3% to my family, and at least 4% dedicated to cheesecake. The rest of the 91%, however, would be devoted to talking about Sports Camps. Every week of my summer has started with Monday morning registration and ended with a smallish nap taken with my head on my desk. In the middle there have been missing kids, fire alarms, lots of Cannon Center meals, and plenty of laughs. I have learned so much being the head counselor, but here is just the tip of the iceberg:

1. It will rain every Wednesday. Wednesdays we take the campers to the water park, 7 Peaks. Wednesday mornings always begin with me looking up at the sky and telling my good friend and other head counselor, Derek, "Today looks like a great day for 7 Peaks!" Then we head over to our office, and on the way I realize I was a fool for wearing pants instead of shorts, because it's definitely going to be a toasty day. The morning goes on, and the weather just gets hotter and hotter. By the time we go to lunch, I am convinced that I will die of heat stroke if there's not a parking spot close enough. As I get in the car to go to 7 Peaks, I begin to believe that BYU Campus is actually a gigantic sauna instead. Now, I'm not sure what happens in between my commute to the water park, but as soon as I step my feet out of the roasting hot car and onto the pavement, a skyfull  of clouds appear. And then it gets windy. Real windy. And I just walk over to the people setting things up at the pavilion as if I am NOT WALKING THROUGH A GIGANTIC TORNADO. Then people usually think it starts raining, but that's because I usually want to cry whenever I see a perfectly innocent pizza blown onto the cement. No, no, the rain does not start until all the campers have arrived and just as they are about to enjoy the park, lightening strikes. The rain pours, and all of a sudden Provo is having their own TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR. Hundreds of kids try to huddle under the pavilion, and counselors start asking what we should do. I usually take a clipboard and start pacing back in forth around the grass so it looks like I'm "taking care of the problem",  but in reality I just really like walking in the rain. I'd love to say this only happened one week at Sports Camps, but I am beginning to lose count of the times it has happened.

These four are some of my most favorite people in the world, hands down. 

2. Pay attention when you're talking with the operator. One evening the gate I needed open was locked, so I called the operator to connect me with someone who could unlock the gates. They connected me with someone else, to whom I explained the problem and she informed that someone would be right over to help me. No more than 15 minutes later, A POLICEMAN SHOWED UP. LOOKING FOR ME. Apparently when I informed the operator that I needed to be connected with the master gate keeper at BYU, they instead heard, "I want to be connected with someone who can open up a gate with a gun the size of my head." All while I am trying to explain this to the policeman, the actual person that is in charge of the gates came to open them.

3. Ordering food for large groups of people rocks. It's not possible to have a bad day when you hear yourself saying, "Hi, I would like to order 1,000 ice cream bars and 20 dozen cookies."

4. Moms can help with anything. Often I am faced with problems I don't have the answer to. One particular late night, one of the campers had a really bad rash, and medicine wasn't helping. It was already past 11, and I didn't know what to do. The girl's counselor was my friend Philippa, and I told her, "Let me make some calls and I'll figure out what to do." (Usually when I say this, I use a tone of voice like I'm getting ready to call Barack Obama) I hung up and called the one person who I knew wouldn't judge me for calling so late: my mom. Barack may be able to sign legislation, but my mom is the best sounding board that this nation has.

Along with the other great stuff I get to do for my job, I got to be part of some videos for the campers to watch. Just when I thought the only person to watch these videos was my great aunt, I had a camper come up to me and recite all of Derek's and my lines from memory! Coming at you soon, Hollywood. #BYUSportsCamps

They Say Einstein was Smart, but I Think He Just Knew How to Use Google

Last weekend I went and faced my arch-nemesis, which is also named the PRAXIS. (This is not to be confused with my other people/ things I have proclaimed to be my arch-nemeses in the past, such as the person that installed a lock on the neighboring apartment complex's swimming pool without giving me a key, or the innocent ticket taker at the movies who informed my best friend Cami and me that no, we can not take a gigantic pizza into the movie theater.) The PRAXIS is a teacher licensing test, and passing it is necessary to graduate. I signed up to take it in April, bought a book, and started studying. I took a bunch of practice tests, and all these tests taught me some very important things. Arguably the most important thing I learned was this: TESTS ARE SUPER BORING. (Sidenote: my writing professor in college one time told me that you should basically never write sentences in capital letters, like what I just did. But honestly, do you really feel any emotion at all if you don't feel it in capital letters? For her sake, I hope she is never next to a house that is being engulfed in flames, because she would probably say in a very calm voice, "Please, someone call 911. Also, Rachel, please stop banging your head against the wall every time I make your rewrite that essay.")

Anyway, I put in some study time in early May, and then my work started getting really busy. One of my many talents is lying to myself and actually believing it, so when I told myself, "I'll study on the weekends" I actually thought this would happen. I'm not sure what happened next, but I firmly believe that I accidentally stepped into a time warp of sorts, because all of a sudden it was the night before the PRAXIS and I still wasn't even sure what PRAXIS stood for. My first solution to this problem was to watch some tv, and when that didn't solve the problem, I took a short nap. Now that the evening was almost over, I decided that maybe it would be a good idea to crack open my study book. As I reviewed the material, I realized there was a lot of stuff I was supposed to know. A smart person would crack down and start studying. An even smarter person, however, would use their resources. 

My roommate, Emmie, always laughs because of my obsession of Google. I need directions somewhere? I can't remember what time the library opens? My new roommate informed me that she used to live in Azerbaijan, and I wanted to pretend like I'd actually heard of that place? Google it! Many of my life's questions are answered through a click of a button. Except for my question about Azerbaijan....but that was because I spelled it Azerbaiqoiwej,mvnljgoijewlakdjfs and apparently not even Google is that smart.  

I figured that Google would save the day again, so I began typing in any topic that happened to be on the test. As the night grew later, my searches began to get more and more desperate:

It turns out my Google searches paid off, because the next morning I went and passed the test. Certainly the hardest part of the test was even before the test started, and I was required to write a paragraph in cursive. IN CURSIVE, FOLKS. I'm fairly certain the last time I used cursive was when I decided I was the Greek queen during social studies in sixth grade and I wrote down commands for my loyal subjects. 

Good thing if I ever have to teach cursive, I can just Google it. 

Fathers and Sons and Rachel

My awesome friend Alice made our welcome sign.

I currently hold the second best job in the United States, the first, of course, belonging to my pal Barack. (The only reason President Obama's job is slightly better than mine is because he gets his own bowling alley.) I work as a head counselor for BYU Sports Camps. My friend Derek is my co-head counselor, and he and I are in charge of the counselors for the summer. This meant hours of advertising, interviewing, and scheduling. I love it all (that's a lie. I didn't love the time when we had to take one trillion ads to every building on campus during what I believed to be a freezing apocalypse. The oblivious weather man claims it was just a blizzard, though.) and I've been so excited for the summer to start! Memorial Day weekend kicked off our very first camp, Fathers and Sons!

On the first day, the planner of the camp, David, asked me if I could take some flags over to the football field in the GEM, a little electric golf cart. I said I would and I hit the road. The GEM can only go 25 miles/hour at most, but that was fine because it was only a 3 minute drive to the stadium. Just as I was getting there, the GEM started beeping and felt sluggish, but I ignored it, grabbed the flags, and brought them into the stadium.

Because I love watching sports, my job is the perfect one for me because sometimes I get to stand on a field/court without actually being athletic. I took the flags next to the first row of seats and then marched right onto the field. This had nothing to do with my actual job, but I've always wanted to stand on the field where I've watched so many games. In the middle of taking a goofy looking selfie on the field and thus checking another item off the bucket list, David called and said he needed the GEM back.

I went back to the GEM, which continued to beep at me as I drove through the parking lot. It took me a little bit too long to realize that this chirping noise was not installed as an attempt for a poor radio system, but instead to warn me that the little electric car was RUNNING OUT OF ELECTRICITY. Would it really be that difficult to make sirens start blaring when such a life crisis arises instead of a tin beeping noise?! Obviously Heavenly Father loves me, because just then my wonderful friend and co-worker Natalie drove up to see what I was up to. We exchanged our concerns that I was going to die into the golf-cart-turned-death-trap and she promised she would follow me back to the Smith Fieldhouse. I puttered over to the stoplight and said about one hundred prayers as I crossed the busy intersection. This may seem like an exaggeration, but there was enough time to say one million prayers in the time it took the cart to cross the street and safely onto the sidewalk. Going down hill was a little bit faster, but eventually I hit level ground and I was back to going the speed of a three-toed sloth. (You better believe I just read an article about the top 10 slowest animals in the world.) Part of me tried to tell myself, "Hey, you're not actually going that slow." Then another child would pass me on their Barbie bike and I would come back to my senses.

It turns out that if you drive a golf cart 5 miles an hour on the sidewalk, people think it's a great idea to yell at you via their car window. Didn't they know I was ON A MISSION?!? How would the crew of Apollo 13 feel if spacecrafts kept speeding by honking their horns?!  Fortunately some of the voices yelling at me were familiar, as Derek and David yelled to me, "RACHEL! YOU CAN DRIVE THE GEM ON THE STREET!" Apparently they thought I was driving incredibly slow on the sidewalk because I was too scared to go fast. IF ONLY THAT WAS THE PROBLEM. Every intersection I reached I would look back at Natalie and she would cheer me on as if I was completing a marathon. (If completing a marathon was ever for some bizarre reason on my bucket list, this event could definitely count in lieu of an actual one) We would yell back and forth to each other about whether or not we thought I would actually make it, but usually we couldn't hear what the other one was saying because we were both laughing too hard at this ridiculous spectacle. At least Natalie was nice enough to pretend like she thought I was going to survive to eat another pork salad from Cafe Rio. Finally I crossed the last intersection and made it back. What took a few minutes getting there took about 15 minutes to get back. Natalie and I had a good long laugh, and I promised myself I would never put my life at risk again by getting in that death machine. (That promise was broken a few hours later when I decided that only fools walk around campus, but whatever.)

The rest of the weekend consisted of pretending I was part of the basketball team, running errands all around campus, proving I was not part of the basketball team by consuming large amounts of ice cream, and glaring at the GEM every time I passed it. On Sunday we got to take the campers to Music and the Spoken Word in Salt Lake City and then had sacrament meeting in the Assembly Hall on Temple Square. I was hesitant about being one of the only girls in Sacrament meeting since many of the talks talked about father-son relationships, but it reminded me of how much a hero my own dad is to me, and how much I love him. I was also able to think a lot about my relationship with my Heavenly Father and how grateful I am for him and his unconditional love.

This weekend was also a good reminder that no matter how hard you plan, things won't always turn out your way. During the fireside Sunday night, my awesome counselors scooped ice cream into bowls so they would be ready for the campers when they finished. The fireside went almost half an hour too long, and all the ice cream melted into soup. I only wish I had a video of the kid next to me who slurped up his dessert with no spoon. The moral from this story is never plan anything in advance.


Overall it was a great weekend, and I'm glad I got to be a part of it. To complete this blog post, here's a picture of the men's basketball coach, Coach Rose, riding a pink moped. Me and the GEM could beat him in a street race any day.