The One Where I Come Out And Also Talk About The LDS Church

I'm working on a new project right now.  Its going to be a book.  Nothing major, just compiling all of the emails I sent while on my mission.  This is interesting, because just last weekend I went to my boyfriend's work party, which was at his boss' house.  Turns out his boss lives next door to my mission president!  (see my last post for more on said Mission President.)  Anyway...

As I'm going through these emails, I read little snippets.  A lot of it is "this week we taught So-and-so" or "so-and-so did/n't come to church this week" or "this week these annoying things happened."  Looking back, I can remember a lot of good times but there is also a fair amount of pain.  I spent two years in England, working 24/7 for the LDS church.  Most weeks I spent at least 20 hours knocking on doors, as well as hours being stood up for teaching appointments, and other countless hours espousing Mormon doctrine to anyone who would listen.

Why is this painful?  Its painful because I kind of hate the person I was back then.  I was self-righteous and it shows.  Its painful because I remember how I was so dedicated that I missed my own brother's funeral!  What kind of church requires that of a person?  Not only that, but what kind of person requires that of himself??  It is painful because I remember beating my brains out trying to be 100% obedient to gain the approval of God and my leaders.  Its painful because I remember trying, praying, planning so desperately to get people to listen to me, and do the things I taught.  Its painful because I remember those days where I was trying and praying so hard to be someone I thought God wanted me to be.

It is painful because I realize now, more than ever, how pointless those two years were in so many ways.  I entrenched myself more than ever in a doctrine/church that teaches everyone that only perfection is good enough.  The same church/doctrine also teaches that I, as a gay man, am less than a straight man.  I am not meant to be this way and God is just having a good time watching me struggle through as a "test."  He loves me though, according to this doctrine, and he'll be so happy if I just wait for His blessings and in the meantime slog through, hating myself for who I am.  He (and the church) will only be happy with me if I spend the rest of my life being completely chaste and living as the church prescribes.

Within 6 months of returning to the US, I began to realize that the inclinations I had toward men were not going to go away.  I started dating my first boyfriend about 8 months after getting home from my mission, and although that relationship had its issues, I experienced a greater connection with another person than I had ever had before, and which I had most definitely never experienced with a woman.  That relationship only lasted a few months before both he and I tried once again to change ourselves in order to please god and to follow what His earthly servants wanted us to do.   I confessed to my bishop, who was kind to me, although rather unhelpful.  It felt good to talk to someone about my situation, but the feelings of self-loathing still continued and deepened.  Not long after, I went to visit my brother's grave on the anniversary of his death; it was a cloudy, rainy day, and I went to the cemetery on my own.  As I stood at my brother's grave and contemplated who he was and thought about what kind of advice he would give me in my situation, my depression cleared for a moment.  Not too long, but long enough for a new thought to pierce the doctrine I was steeped in: god might want me the way I am, and things just might turn out ok.  However, this was no epiphany, and the next few weeks I thought about death pretty often.  I remember a specific time, driving back to Provo from Heber, and thinking how quickly I could end things by just driving off the road into a reservoir; when I got back to Provo that night I drove to the temple and just sat in my car freaking out and not knowing what to do.

After that semester finished, I took a 3 week trip back to the UK to visit my mission as well as other places I wanted to visit.  Although I was staying with and visiting members of the church, I spent a lot of time on my own, and was able to see what its like to just be whoever and whatever I wanted, without the expectations that come along with being a returned missionary BYU student.  When I returned home, I began to find a few friends that were supportive; it turned out that one of my coworkers was gay too.  That summer was a great summer as I began to let myself live for myself and not for an organization.  Not long after, I met my boyfriend, and our 2nd anniversary is coming up.  I realized that life really is worth living, and that the LDS church doesn't have a monopoly on happiness.  In the time since I have distanced myself from the church and its teachings; I am contemplating removing myself formally from the church, especially as I discover doctrinal and historical things about the church that I feel I should have known before sacrificing 2 years of my life to it.  I feel betrayed by the church for these things, but that is perhaps the subject of another post some other time.

In the meantime I have come out to friends and family.  Sometimes in the discussion that ensues, the recurring idea seems to be that I have not waited long enough for answers to my prayers and/or that I did not try hard enough to change.  Although I'm sure this is meant in the best of ways, it is in reality very offensive.  I prayed and tried for years to change...isn't that enough?  What more would God want of me? 20 years before an answer comes, rather than the 10 or so that I tried and waited?  I'm sorry, but I am not willing to believe that.  The response from my family as a whole has been interesting. A couple of my brothers have been 100% supportive and I would even say that our relationship is better than ever since coming out to them.  On the other hand, I used to be very close to one of my sisters and since I have told her it has been kind of rough for us.  I've been happily surprised by another sister and how well and kindly she seems to be dealing with the shift in how I live my life.  My parents found out in September 2009 (thats what this post was about).  The roller coaster our relationship has been on since then is probably too recent to write about, but, thankfully, things do seem to be looking up.

I'm starting to feel like it won't be too much longer before I take the formal steps to remove myself from the LDS church.  I have no problem with friends or family who remain within the church, but for who I am, my personal experiences with/relating to the church, and the life I intend to lead, I don't want to remain associated with the church, even if it is only on paper.

It is with all of this in mind that I am compiling these emails in an attempt to remember those two years of my life very well, and also to move on from them.  Hindsight is a very interesting thing; I don't look back and only see the bad things, but also the good things.  And from where I stand now, the future looks pretty great and I am very happy--I don't see any reason why that would change.  To end this post on a positive note, here are some picture highlights of the last few years! :)

My boyfriend and I on the beach in Mexico 

From the top of the Eiffel Tower

Skate skiing

In Mexico with friends

Letter to my mission president.

Today I wrote a letter to my mission president. I had a pretty good mission and don't regret it, but there were a few things that kind of haunt me. I wrote this letter as a means of closure for me, and I haven't decided if I'll actually send it or not.

FYI, "tracting" is the Mormon term for when missionaries go door-to-door.

Let me know what you think, if I should send it, etc.

Dear President M.,

It has been about two and a half years since I returned home from my mission. I look back on those two years with fondness, and will never regret serving a mission. I appreciate the growth that I made personally during that time, as well as your contribution to it. However, there are several moments from my mission that I remember with such distinction that the same feelings I had at those times come back in full force—feelings like anxiety, trembling, and fear. From my personal experiences, I believe that these feelings were intentionally inflicted by you on your missionaries, as well as promoted as a form of “leadership” and copied by your assistants. The first two experiences I will describe are minor compared to the effect the third had on my mission and the effect it still has on my self-confidence.

The first such memory I have is from Burton-on-Trent. You and your wife came to visit for church one Sunday. We hurried and cleaned up our apartment, and went to church with you. Afterwards, you came to inspect our apartment. All was well until you opened our area book. You were disappointed, and rightly so—we had done a very poor job at keeping up the records that were supposed to be updated daily about our tracting and teaching activities. However, afterwards you rebuked us for at least 10 minutes, and seemed to feel that the sole reason we had not been baptizing by the hundreds was because we were poor record keepers. After you left, my companion and I felt like we had failed completely as missionaries as well as personally. You left us not uplifted and encouraged, but sad and dejected. Not long after you left, our zone leaders “dropped by.” Not only did they continue to rebuke us, but they also went through our personal things (even our scriptures) and went so far to ask if we were doing any missionary work at all. At this point I had been on my mission for approximately 6 months. While I admit whole-heartedly that we were poor record keepers and that we could have been working a little harder, I don’t believe this response was in any way helpful, and remember that day as one of the days where I felt I had little or no worth.

The second such instance happened a mere three or four months before the end of my mission. In the intervening time, I worked hard, had great companions, and was very successful. I trained a new missionary, became a District Leader, and then Zone Leader. Around February of 2008 you gave a talk about sin and repentance, based mostly on the teachings of Bruce R. McConkie (who may be partly to blame for this experience). After your talk, I became convinced that I needed to confess certain things to you from before my mission. When our regular interview came along, I determined to confess to you that before my mission I had viewed pornography. It came time, and I braced myself and told you. It soon became clear that you did not believe for one second that I was sincere or repentant, apparently because I was not showing enough emotion (doesn’t feeling like you want to die count?). And as if the embarrassment of discussing intimate and personal details of one’s life isn’t punishment enough, when I told you the steps I had taken to rid myself of this “sin,” such as fasting, praying, and abstaining, you scoffed. You even tauntingly said, “Elder Hansen, I don’t think you’ll be going home in June with your parents!” At this point my steely resolve to do the right thing finally broke down completely and was followed by gushing tears. This seemed to satisfy you, because you told me that we were done, forced me to pray aloud, and sent me out of the room. You later called me (again arousing feelings of anxiety and fear) to tell me that you had decided to let me stay on my mission. How gracious.

The third and most traumatizing experience was just two transfers before the end of my mission. You transferred me to the Forest of Dean, and my companion and I replaced the senior couple who had just finished their mission there. We were pumped and ready to go, as we had been told that around 15 people were practically waiting to be baptized there. We accepted the challenge, and got to work not only in our Zone Leader responsibilities but also in learning to navigate the Forest (a maze of country roads and villages, where houses are known by names rather than numbers) and—we hoped—baptizing all those people. We soon found out that all but a few of these investigators were only interested in being friends with the previous missionaries—not in the church at all. So, in the midst of determining who we should spend our time on (as well as driving all over southwest England for our Zone Leader responsibilities), I wrote one of the required weekly letters to you, explaining all that we’d done with the investigators who had been left for us, as well as our efforts to find new people, which had started to produce new, exciting results.

I was on an overnight exchange with the District Leader in Worcester when you called. Elder H. handed me the phone, and I said “hello?” During the next thirteen minutes (timed by the phone), I received the tongue-lashing of my life. This was no ordinary tongue-lashing; it was harsher than anything I’d ever been subjected to before, even worse than any from my own parents. You started out by asking how my zone was doing. I could tell by the tone of your voice that this was not a question you actually wanted an answer to. I gave a feeble but honest reply, and then you tore into me. I can’t recall the specific order of the things you said to me, but I do remember a couple parts:

“Elder Hansen, you have single-handedly destroyed Cheltenham Zone. Before you, it was a well oiled machine, and now you’ve managed to drive it into the ground.”

“When you went to the Forest, there were people waiting there for you to baptize. Now I get this letter from you, saying that you’re throwing away all of the [senior couple’s] investigators to go TRACTING. I think you’ve just given up on your missionary work!”

I will at least give you the benefit of the doubt that some of this was caused by misinformation. One of your assistants, Elder S., had never reported information about me in a good light (I know this from the time I lived with him in Nottingham), and perhaps that happened again this time. In his haste to please you and place the blame of low baptisms in the zone, he probably forgot to remind you that we were suffering from a short transfer (5 weeks instead of 6), in addition to General and Stake Conferences taking up two more Sundays, leaving only two weeks in that period where baptisms could occur.

Regardless of what you knew, the respect (and perhaps fear) I had for you at the time made those words really hurt. By the time you were finished berating me, my whole body was trembling. It was now past bedtime, so I went into the bedroom to say a prayer with Elder H. He asked me to pray, and I accepted; I was barely able to speak because my jaw was shaking so bad. Toward the end of my prayer, we once again heard your familiar ring tone on the phone. I answered, and you began speaking much kinder than you had just a few minutes before. You now said that I wasn’t so bad of a missionary and that perhaps you had been “a little harsh.” Because I trusted your opinion and the fervor of your previous phone call, this second call was pretty hard to believe. Luckily this call was much shorter—perhaps a minute or two—and soon I was able to privately plead with God in prayer to make me a better missionary. I promised to work harder, study better, and be stronger. I’m not sure how long I prayed, but I’m sure it was quite a while. Still, I felt no comfort, no answers, and no peace.

The next week was another round of interviews for our zone. During the period of instruction for all of the missionaries, you called Elder W. and I up in front of everyone, and asked us how things were going. We warily said that they were OK, but not great; you asked us what had happened the previous weekend, and we told everyone how we had set a baptism date with an investigator. You seemed to think that this was your doing, and told everyone with a laugh in your voice and a smile on your face that you had called me and “gotten me going” again or something. The funny thing about this is that the investigator who was to be baptized was found through tracting—the very method you were angry at me for focusing on.

It is now more than two and a half years after this last incident, and yet I am still affected by it. Whenever my boss calls or sends me an email, my heart races, and my palms start sweating; but I’ve realized that in the real world, superiors don’t treat their employees the way you treated me. In the real world, I am a person who has feelings and real worth, undiminished by others.

While I can’t say enough how grateful I am for most of the experiences I had on my mission and the way that they changed my life, I believe it is important for you to realize the massive impact you had on your missionaries, and not always in a good way. I have come to realize that the reason the mission baptized more people was not necessarily because of greater faith and work by the missionaries (although we can hope that played a part), but because of the severe pressure administered by you through your assistants. I will always wonder: your mission may have been successful by the numbers, but at what cost?

Sincerely,

Elder Hansen

EuroTrip 2010, Part Deux

Continued...

Riding the Eurostar was great! Much less stressful than flying. Security is much simpler, with no restrictions on liquids. We got through security, had our passports checked and stamped by the French border police, and after a short wait, got on the train! We had luckily picked seats toward the back of the train, and got 4 seats to ourselves. In what felt like no time (but was actually just over 2 hours), we pulled into the Gare du Nord station in Paris. I was a little freaked out when we first got off the train with the language difference and all, but soon enough we'd gotten directions to our hotel and got on the Metro.

Let me just say right now that I love the Metro. Simple and easy to use! Even in French!

We got off at the Pyrenees station and walked only about a block to our hotel. It was a small, kind of run down hotel, but for us it was perfect. It had a real bed, and our own bathroom!! Yipee!!! It also had French doors that overlooked the street:

After freshening up, we went into the city center. Paris is beautiful! That night we saw the Notre Dame and the river Seine by moonlight. We ate dinner al fresco (of course). Jarrett had smoked fish, and I had the French version of bangers and mash. It was a sausage from a certain region in France (can't remember which) and mashed potatoes which were different because they were mashed extremely fine and mixed with garlic and cheese--very good. I have to say, we were really underdressed! It was a very nice evening, and we (stereotypically) wore shorts and flip flops. Boy were we stared at!! On the Metro ride home, this drunk guy started kind of freaking out and pointing at my legs and we realised he was surprised that I wasn't cold (even though the temperature was in the 70s).

Thursday morning we slept in a bit before heading into the city. We saw the inside of the Notre Dame, and after that walked through the city, going through the Luxembourg Gardens, H&M, Hôtel des Invalides, and finally to the Eiffel Tower. We relaxed for a while in the park next to the tower before going all the way to the top! It was a lot of lines and 2 elevators, but it was really cool. We were there basically at sunset, with great weather. On the way down, however, we ran into some horrible Americans. They got off the elevator at the top, but didn't even go up the last set of stairs to go outside! They looked out of the windows and then cut into the line to get on the elevator back down. Lame! But we had a great time :)

Afterwards, we went back to the hotel to change into more "night-appropriate" clothes--no more stares! We went to dinner at a cool little restaurant called Le Gai Moulin (recommended by Lonely Planet). It had a great atmosphere and really good food. I got beef bourguignon (like in Julie & Julia) and it was really good. After dinner, we decided that we wanted to see the Arc de Triomphe, and decided we'd just walk there so that we could see more of the city. I'm not really sure that that was a good idea!!! Our feet hurt SO bad. But, on the way we got to see the Louvre (just the outside--we saved the inside for next time), the Tuileries Garden, and most of the walk was down the Avenue des Champs-Elysees.

We finally got to the Arc, and it was really beautiful, all lit up in the dark. We took pictures, rested for a bit, then headed for the Metro to go back to the hotel. HOWEVER, it was closed!!! This is one problem with Paris--there seems to be a complete lack of clocks in public places, and since our phones weren't operational, we didn't carry them with us. When we finally found out the time, it was something like 1:30am! The other problem is that everything stays open so late--restaurants are open til 12:30ish--that its hard to gauge the time. At any rate, we found a taxi and somehow communicated that we needed to be dropped off near the Pyrenees metro station. This took a little work, but we did it! Unfortunately that ride was 20 Euros, but it was worth it to get back to the hotel. There was NO way we could have walked.

On Friday, we got up, got breakfast at the bakery by our hotel (can I say delicious??) and took the train to...Versailles! Versailles is a nice town, and the famous French palace is located there. We got there at about 11 and stayed until about 7:30--and could have stayed longer! It is so huge, and so much to see. We really loved it. Everything is ornate and covered in gold, it seemed like. The gardens were also very pretty, and we got to see the Petit Trianon, Grand Trianon (2 smaller palaces in the grounds of the main palace) as well as Marie Antoinette's Hameau, the little model village she had built. That was probably my favorite part, as it was so picturesque around a lake, with farm animals and everything.

We rode the train back into Paris (which was a nice rest for our feet!) and got some REALLY good ice cream after we got back. Then we went to a Turkish restaurant on our way back to the hotel. It was in a very international part of the city. Dinner was great but boy were we tired! We headed back to the hotel and got ready to leave the next morning.

Saturday morning we finished packing, checked out of the hotel, and took the train to the airport. We hoped to get onto the direct flight between Paris and SLC, but no luck--completely full! We then were bumped to the Paris-->Philadelphia flight, but again no luck. We started thinking this would be a repeat of trying to get out of SLC when we got seats on a flight to Atlanta--in Business class! We could not believe our luck, and were so excited to at least get a plane back to the states. It was so nice to fly business, too, as I never had before. We got to board the plane first; they took our coats for us and hung them up; we had amenity bags with socks, a sleeping mask, chapstick, lotion, etc. We also got real pillows and down comforters instead of the normal crappy airline blankets! Oh, there was also plenty of juice to go around before everyone else got on the plane. In-flight entertainment was great: we could choose what movie we wanted to watch and when, as well as tv shows and music. The food was great too--3 course meals! I'm not sure if business/first class is worth the extra money you normally have to pay, but it sure was nice lucking out on those seats! :)

When we got to Atlanta, we couldn't get on the last flight of the night to SLC, so once again we got a hotel. Luckily hotels are much cheaper in Atlanta--we stayed at a Super8 for "only" $50. We got some sleep, which was nice, because the next 2 days were a nightmare!! We went back to the airport at 6:30 in the morning. We tried to get on 4 flights in a row to SLC, but to no avail, and the standby list just kept growing and growing--with us at the bottom. Then we tried twice to get to SLC via Houston, but that didn't work either! Finally we got on a flight that evening to Sacramento. We arrived around 10pm, completely exhausted and feeling nauseous from stress and lack of sleep. We were scheduled to leave on a flight the next morning, but after checking with the airline staff, it looked like we wouldn't actually get off the ground until 6pm the next evening. Now it was time for desperate measures because it was Sunday night and we both needed to get to work the next day. So we bit the bullet and rented a car--and DROVE FROM SACRAMENTO TO SLC! Let me recap: flew from Paris to Atlanta to Sacramento and drove to SLC. This process may have been the longest 3 days of my life, haha. Anywho, we were out of there by 11:30pm and on our way north. We switched on and off driving, but it was tough! I was so tired I started seeing things pop up in the road (such as animals and an old lady). At that point, we switched drivers.

We were almost to SLC the next day when I got pulled over by the highway patrol in Tooele. The officer acted like he pulled me over for speed, but asked us about what was in our trunk and stuff. Then he even had me come back to his car with him. It was only later that I realised that we had been profiled as drug traffickers and that was the real reason he pulled us over. He asked me to get in his car because his dog was in the back and it would have gone crazy if it smelled drugs on me. Still, he grilled me again about where we were from, where we had been, what we had been doing, what was in the car, how I knew Jarrett, when/where I met him, and how long I'd known him! Talk about the grilling of a lifetime. Still, he let me go without even an official warning.

We made it back into town around 10am, and we both went straight to work. It was a crazy trip, but a good one!!!

EuroTrip 2010, Part 1

A couple months ago, my friend Eric said I could use his Delta Airlines buddy pass. Eric works for Delta, and as a perk, he gets a number of these passes to give out to friends every year. Contrary to popular belief, travel on these passes is not free; however it is only a fraction of the cost were you to fly the same trip as a regular, paying passenger.

Eric told me all about the potential hazards and annoyances about traveling on a buddy pass (especially in the short amount of time I had), but Jarrett and I decided to take a chance and go. We narrowed our choices down to Mexico or Europe. We have both been to Mexico (though not really--Ensenada is barely south of the border), so we decided on Europe.

We left my apartment Thursday night, May 13th. We first attempted to get on the red-eye flight to NYC which left at 11:45pm--no luck. You see, traveling on a buddy pass means you are at the end of the standby line, which often times is exceptionally long. Any regular passenger or crew member automatically goes before you on the list, no matter how long you've been waiting. Basically, you have to pray that a flight gets cancelled or some people wake up late.

We decided to stay at the airport and wait for the next flight to NYC, leaving around 8am the next morning. We didn't want to find a way home (we'd been dropped off) or pay for a taxi, so we slept a couple uncomfortable hours on the floor of the terminal. Then...surprise...we didn't get on the next flight! In fact, we didn't get on the next 3! It is a frustrating thing, to hope and hope and hope that you'll get on a flight, only to see the plane leave without you (Eric warned us!). In the afternoon, we switched to the direct flight from SLC to Paris, on which there were supposedly a lot of free seats. But, once again, the plane was full (overbooked, actually). Right as this plane started boarding, I checked with the plane going to NYC at the same time, and it had seats! We quickly ran over to the other terminal and the gate agent was nice enough to help us change our tickets onto that flight.

After a long flight, we landed at JFK airport around midnight. Man, was it humid there! Jarrett and I were ready to kill for a shower and real bed, but instead we just paid for it! We found the cheapest airport hotel we could ($110) and hopped on the shuttle to get there. Man, was this place ghetto! Our room was clean though and thats all we really cared about. Some girl that arrived with us freaked out and started balling because her room smelled like pot, but we had better luck I guess. The next morning we slept in a bit, ate our free breakfast, and then set off on the town with Eric (who lives pretty close to the airport/hotel). He showed us around the subway system, Times Square, the LDS temple, the Plaza (former) Hotel, Central Park, etc. It was pretty cool. Soon enough, we had to get back to the airport to try some more flights to get to London. Miracle of miracles, we got on the first flight we tried! We left JFK around 7pm and were on our way to London. Somehow, Jarrett and I even got to sit together.

We arrived in London around 8am, exhausted but excited. First off we decided to find a place to stay. We had checked out some places beforehand online, but couldn't make a reservation because we weren't sure when we'd get there. The first place we tried was the Green Man pub on Edgware Road--our first hostel. They had space, and we were able to leave our luggage there whilst we went off for the day. We mostly went shopping on Oxford Street that day, which was a good choice because it rained a fair amount. We did a bit of general sight seeing though, and saw Trafalgar Square, Picadilly Circus, and Leicester Square. By 6:30pm we were absolutely pooped so we made our way back to the hostel and fell asleep by about 8! Our beds were bunk beds, but they were clean, and the dorm-style room was pretty quiet. The hostel was a pretty good choice--it was about $45 for 2 nights, and it was in a good location.

On Monday, we slept in a bit (badly needed) before heading out. We decided to splurge and do the Tower of London, which cost a cool £18. Having spent so much to get in, we spent most of the day there. It was a pretty cool place, and we had good weather so it was really enjoyable. We saw the crown jewels, as well as what we liked to call the "ghetto crowns"--the old royal crowns and other jewelry whose jewels had been taken to create the current crown jewels, leaving ghost-like crowns. We also saw various other exhibits, including the old royal apartments of Jarrett's ancestor, King Edward I.

After the Tower, we strolled across Tower Bridge (often confused with London Bridge). Then we enjoyed walking along the banks of the Thames, down to London Bridge. I was excited to show Jarrett just how not-cool London Bridge is, since the old one was shipped to Arizona. Still, we walked across it (crossing the Thames is always a pleasure, no matter the bridge or mode of transportation). We then went up to St. Paul's cathedral (where Princess Di and Prince Charles got married). It wasn't open for tours, but we got to sit in on a bit of the evening service, which got us into the cathedral for free! Its very beautiful. After this, we ate dinner at a "traditional" pub. We were both disappointed when Jarrett's first Fish 'n' Chips tasted rather dreadful. After dinner, we took a gander through Hyde and Green Parks and over to Buckingham Palace/the Victoria Monument, then continued through St. James' park and into the area of the city that houses most of the government ministries. I have to say, Westminster Palace (Houses of Parliament) are very beautiful in the early evening/night.

After strolling along the river, we decided to head back to the hostel. Before we called it a night, we got some pizza from Domino's (very British, I know). Unfortunately, by the time we got back, someone had fallen asleep in my bed! Instead of waking him up, the hostel just switched me to a different one.

Tuesday, we woke up early (well...I did...Jarrett slept in), fetched our rental car from the place next door to the hostel, and headed out to the country! We got the cheapest car possible, which ended up being a Smart Car! It's always been a dream of mine to drive one, although I must say that desire has been satiated. When I first got in the car, I was unsure how it worked and almost crashed into the rental agency! Once I got the hang of it, it was OK. We drove out of London, and up to the coolest country mansion, Chatsworth. This is "Pemberley" from the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice, and was also featured in another of her films, The Duchess. There weren't too many people there, and we were able to enjoy the home fully. We had amazing weather, and so we also got to enjoy the grounds and fountains! This is really one of the most beautiful settings I've ever experienced.

After our time at Chatsworth, we drove over to Nottingham to see my friend Lisa Hayes. She and her boyfriend made us a DELICIOUS roast dinner. Let me just say that it was good enough to get Jarrett to admit that British food can actually be amazingly scrumptious! We hung out with Lisa that night, as well as took a walk around Bulwell (the part of Nottingham she lives in, as well as the part that I spent a large part of my mission in) and did some chocolate shopping at Tesco :)

We left Nottingham at 6:30am and drove back to London. Even though we returned the car a little late and less than full on gas, it still only cost 39! We had a few hours to kill before our train to Paris, so we went on over to Westminster Abbey, and had a great time. Its a very beautiful place, full of history and interesting bits and bobs. My favourite part was definitely the ceiling of the lady chapel:

After this, we went to the train station, and hopped on the train to Paris!

...To be continued...

Prince for a day

As some of you may know, Jarrett and I recently embarked on a trip (pretty much) around the world. I'll post about all that soon.

This post is about something else--a coronation.

The other night I had this AMAZING dream. You know, a dream that just goes above and beyond all other dreams.

The dream began outside a cathedral. Jarrett and I were standing there, waiting, dressed in our best, at the beginning of a line of people. It turned out we were waiting for Michelle Obama (not really sure how she fits into all this...but I'm glad Barack wasn't there). Once Michelle showed up, we all walked towards the cathedral doors, and they opened for us. We then began to make our way up the aisle in a formal fashion, nodding at people on both sides of the aisle as we went. The whole time, I just felt so happy!! Unfortunately, the dream ended there (I think my happiness woke me up), before I could find out whose coronation we were at. But I'll just continue the dream, and believe it was me. :D

Yeah, my life is average.

I'm going to start off-topic because I'm sitting at work, and its kind of been a dreary day--but now its thundering outside! Having grown up in Iowa, its one of the things I miss most now that I live in Utah. This is the first time I've heard thunder here in at least a year but probably much longer. Something about thunder is just very calming to me...maybe its the reminder that there is something bigger than me out there. :)

A couple weekends ago, my dad came to visit. It was fun: we looked at cars together, went out to eat a few times, and I even cooked the rosemary cream filet mignon for him (he enjoyed it). Before my dad came over that night and while I was cooking, I plugged in my iPod and kind of let myself go, singing along. I had a grand old time. Later that night I went downstairs to my brother's house to give them my rent. While we were talking, my sister-in-law asked "who was singing up in your apartment this afternoon?? It was SO loud! All I could think was that whoever it was should not try out for American Idol!" Embarassed, I then admitted that it had been me.

This experience, plus the coincidental post my friend Eliza made on her blog about her life being average, made me realise that yeah...my life is pretty average too.

Now, I've never really thought that I was an amazing singer. I don't have my own fan page on Facebook and I'm not trying to make any record deals or anything like that. But having someone say outright that I was not a good singer--that was a definite ego-crusher. And then I realised, "wow, I really am rather average." In high school I knew that I'd probably never make any money singing, but still, I got into the intensely-competitive All-State choir 2 years in a row, got high scores in other singing contests, and my choir teacher loved me. I got a couple solos in my first musical in 10th grade, and a lead role in South Pacific my senior year. All of these things made me feel pretty good about myself. Not in a boastful way--but just knowing that I was pretty good at something. Since high school, the only choir I've really been in was Scandinavian choir at BYU my freshman year. And yes, it was almost as ridiculous as it sounds. I liked the songs, but we weren't that good of a choir. After that, I sang in some quartets (and one accidental solo) on my mission.

So, it was quite a shock for me to realise that really, my voice is absolutely nothing special. I think it had been coming on for a while, but then it really hit me. And...thats ok. The funny thing, however, is how in high school, students are always told "you're great!" "good job!" "wow!" sometimes with stickers that match. But in reality? We're just average. I was ok at singing, because I tried harder than other people. I got good grades, but I'm no genius. I'm not ugly, but I'm no model. I'm not poor, but I'm most definitely not rich.

So, in conclusion, we should all be happy to be average. And who knows what average really means? Its rather open to interpretation. And, whatever average is, its not so bad. Everyone's a little bit average (cue Avenue Q music): even celebrities are average (I know, big shocker)--they may have tons of money or some mad singing/acting skills, but they sure suck at other things. Like dancing, for example. Or being a famous leader.

Thus, I'm kind of happy to be average--because it doesn't mean anything!

My Joy of Cooking

Recently, Jarrett and I have taken to having friends over once every week or two for dinner. Its a lot of fun to have people over, but also to eat good food. Its funny to think about now, because when Jarrett and I first started cooking together last summer, the results were somewhere around mediocre. I believe our first meal was pasta salad. Like I said...it was something mediocre. Definitely edible--but less than gourmet.

Our cooking largely took a break once I moved into Old Mill. The kitchen there was...undesirable. So, once I started staying at my new place in SLC, we bumped things up a notch. We've done things like:
--Lemon Chicken Broccoli Casserole
--Spaghetti and Meatballs
--Sausage Pasta Bake
--Taco Soup
--Homemade Chicken Alfredo
--Stuffed Shells
--Manicotti

The most recent addition to this list was the creme de la creme. It was.... drum-roll....

Filet Mignon with a Rosemary Cream Sauce! This was accompanied by rosemary roasted potatoes, a fresh garden salad with Gorgonzola cheese, and French bread. I'll post the recipes at the end of this entry.

I'm happy to say that this dinner was really easy! It takes a little prep time, mostly with the potatoes and also if you're chopping up fresh rosemary. But still, its not bad.

There are 2 especially great things about all of this: I feel like I've gained a lot of experience cooking, and thus become a better cook. Its really not that hard (surprisingly enough). Cooking is something that I've simply never taken the time to become good at, but when you do, you experience immediate gratification and satisfaction. Every time I cook something nice, I feel like I've accomplished something. Its a nice feeling--especially after working 8 hours in a pretty monotonous job. The other great thing is that you can do it with/for friends. Jarrett and I have made it an opportunity to invite small groups (2-3 people) over for dinner; we get to know them better and we all get good food and some good conversation too.

So, although I'm no Julia Child or Julie Powell, I have to say that cooking is fun. I have yet to master the art of French Cooking (ugh, the French), but maybe one day I'll get there.

Now, to start you on your way to deliciousness, try out our best dinner so far! The following recipes are great with salad and some bread.

FILET MIGNON WITH ROSEMARY CREAM

4 beef tenderloin filets (or medallions) 1 1/2" thick
4 tbsp. olive oil
3/4 cup dry white wine (we used a Riesling, and it worked quite well)
1/2 cup whipping cream
1 1/2 tbsp. fresh rosemary, chopped (can be substituted with dry rosemary)
1 tsp. corn starch or flour
salt & pepper to taste

Heat the olive oil in a pan, then cook the filets first one side until a nice brownish color is obtained, then turn them and do the same to the other side, sprinkling salt, pepper and part of the chopped rosemary over them. Turn them again, add the flavoring, then take them out of the pan and briefly set them aside.

In the same pan and without shutting down the heat (or draining the pan), add most of the wine and the remaining rosemary. Dissolve the flour/cornstarch into the remaining wine and add it along with the cream to the pan. Continue revolving until the sauce thickens. Return the filets to the pan, covering them with the sauce. Serve immediately.
(Adapted from www.cooks.com)


ROSEMARY ROASTED POTATOES

Ingredients
1 1/2 pounds small red or white-skinned potatoes (or a mixture)
1/8 cup good olive oil
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoons minced garlic (3 cloves)
2 tablespoons minced fresh rosemary leaves

Directions
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Cut the potatoes in half or quarters and place in a bowl with the olive oil, salt, pepper, garlic and rosemary; toss until the potatoes are well coated. Dump the potatoes on a baking sheet or casserole dish and spread out into 1 layer; roast in the oven for at least 1 hour, or until browned and crisp. Flip twice with a spatula during cooking to ensure even browning.

Remove the potatoes from the oven, season to taste, and serve.
(recipe courtesy Ina Garten, www.foodnetwork.com)
*A few notes about this recipe: I prefer to use a casserole dish because it has high sides and is thus easy to flip potatoes in. Also, I make sure the whole bottom of the dish is covered with a layer of oil to help the roasting. :)

Hopefully this doesn't turn into a cooking blog, but I'll try and post my favourite recipes in the future. If anyone wants a recipe for one of the previously mentioned meals, let me know!

Moving on

It has been just over one month since I last wrote--I consider this an accomplishment.

In the last month, I've mostly been doing the normal--school and work. However, I have also been working on a new apartment and a new job!

First, the job. Currently I have an amazing job at BYU teaching software classes to students, staff, faculty, etc. I've been there for pretty much a year and I've loved it all. When I got the job, I kinda knew PowerPoint, Word, and Excel, and had dabbled in Photoshop and InDesign. NOW I know Access, PowerPoint, Word, Excel, OneNote, Outlook, Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign, Qualtrics, etc. So it has been a rewarding year as far as work skills go.

As much as I love my job, I have been planning on moving up to Salt Lake City for a while now. This was scary, because with the current economy, I wasn't sure how quickly I would find a job--but find one I did!

A week ago (ish), I was surfing Monster.com and randomly found this position open at a place called Coventry Healthcare. It was the position of "Credentialing Associate." I had no idea what this was, but I met the requirements, so I applied. The next day I got a call, and an interview was set up for Tuesday. On Tuesday I traveled up to their office in West Valley (part of SLC) and had my interview. I thought it went pretty well, but at the same time a few things scared me:

1) I did OK on the typing test, but on the 10-key typing test I thought I did horribly.

2) I didn't see any men there the whole time I was there (2 hours!).

3) At certain points I just wondered whether the people who interviewed me (3 separate people) were interested in what I had to offer.

I felt a touch sad after leaving, thinking about the long road ahead to find a new job. When I got back to Provo I went to DI to look for a couple things. And, surprise! I got a phone call, offering me the position! I readily accepted and was pleased to know I will make a bit more than I currently make, but will be working full-time, and will have full benefits. I couldn't believe it--a great full-time job and November wasn't even half over. Another great thing is that I don't start til January 4, so I can still go home for Christmas!

Now on to the apartment...

My brother Chris and his wife Di bought a new place, and it has a "mother-in-law" apartment attached (meaning an apartment with a separate entrance). They offered to have me rent it from them and I thought that would be cool--especially after I took a look at it. Here's a pic of the front of the house (I have the 2nd level):

Anywho, it wasn't furnished, so I quickly set to the task of doing that, which was pretty fun. I got most of my stuff from IKEA, and it was way cheap! I won't bore you with the details. My couches, however, are not from IKEA. I found them on ksl.com (a local site with classifieds). They were originally advertised at $150 and I got them for $120. This is good because they were in much more of a mess when I saw them in person than they looked online (of course). They are brown microfiber, which turned out to be extraordinarily easy to clean. Jarrett and I spot-cleaned all of the cushions, used some spray and wash (there were gross stains...baby juice, wax, food, markers, etc), and put the cushion covers in the washing machine. They turned out great! Anyway I can't wait to move there officially cuz its awesome!

my new bed and comforter.

the little nook in the living room wall. i like it.

the couches--restored to original glory!

kitchen table with first home-made meal!

Thus, it has been a kind of crazy month, but a good one. I'm looking forward to the end of the semester, moving to SLC, going home for Christmas and--oh yeah, I'm going on another cruise in January! It was super cheap so a huge group of friends are going. It'll be great!

Another day, another month.

Time really flies too fast. But at the same time, I'm not the best at time management. I wonder how much I would have accomplished right now if I always managed my time effectively. Even just managing my weekday time effectively. Hmm. Kind of depressing!

The last month has been mostly dominated by 3 things: health, dog-sitting, and school.

Health:

I was sick for a few weeks with a fever, aches, and headaches. Lame. I also visited the Student Health Center for a couple routine things and ended up having my blood pressure medication changed, and my blood drawn. I'm glad my medication was changed--this new one actually helps my blood pressure stay down and it doesn't affect my heart/physical activity. yay! I got my blood drawn cuz I had these funny pink dots on my ankles and my doctor wanted to make sure it wasn't some disease with blood vessels. Anyway the results came back and apparently I don't have that disease, but my blood iron levels were extremely high (3x the normal amount) so this morning I went in for a retest. The results should be back in a week. We shall see!!

Dog-sitting:

My brother Chris and his wife Di have taken 2 trips out of town and I've taken care of their dogs and cat for them. The first stint was like Thursday-Monday and was perfect because I didn't have school that Monday. This last time, however, was 3 weeks. First off, let me say the pros:

1) House to myself

2) Live in SLC/get out of Provo

3) Constant companionship of dogs and cat (very adorable)

cons:

1) Live in SLC, work and study in Provo (commute = not cool)

2) Constant companionship of dogs and cat (very needy)

All in all, I'm glad I did it. It certainly made time go faster! And I got some great use out of my UTA pass. I love riding TRAX (Utah's light-rail system)--it reminds me of Europe and the tram in Nottingham. I also love those dogs and that cat. It was also good because I got to see how much work it is to have pets. I probably won't ever have a dog as a pet, but I might have a cat. Especially if its like my brothers'--it just comes inside to eat and cuddle but otherwise stays outside. I also enjoyed the use of a huge flat screen tv, surround sound, and Netflix. There is one somewhat humourous story I would like to share. It is about Duncan. A dog. A yellow lab to be precise.

One night I went to a BBQ with some friends. When I got back home (to my brother's) Duncan ran over to the door to say hi. He then started gagging like crazy. This was followed by quite a lot of barf. To make a long story short, Duncan barfed from when I got home til about 1:30 in the morning. Towards the end he was just gagging, but he was obviously not feeling well. Having seen the movie "Marley & Me," I was scared that his stomach had flipped or something, which is life-threatening. After a couple calls to the vet, I took him in. Yes, I took him in, at 1:30am. The vet and his technicians were nice and helpful. Poor Dunc knew what was coming as soon as he saw the technician take out the "silver bullet" (thermometer). They took x-rays and gave him a shot for nausea and then sent us home. Duncan was more or less fine after that, although the gagging persisted a bit through the next day. However, he was able to eat and keep things down. A few days later I discovered the culprit of the whole problem in the back yard--it was a strangely shaped poo. Upon slightly closer examination and after use of the garden hose, I discovered that it was a sock!! Duncan had eaten one of my socks, digested it whole, and pooped it out. Ah, what a dog.

School:

School is going fine. Busy as ever. Midterms, assignments, reading, tests, quizzes, labs....it goes on and on. I'm afraid it will never end. I'm not quite seeing the light at the end of the tunnel yet...maybe someday.

A personal accomplishment: mastering Access!!

Access is a very complex program that is part of the Microsoft Office Suite. We teach it at work and over the summer til now I've been slowly learning how to use it. Well, it is really starting to make sense!! Yay! I've taught 2 Access classes...and am teaching another tomorrow. Also teaching/assisting 4 more over the next two weeks. So, its lookin pretty good :)

Other news:

1) Sarah (my sister) is prego with TWINS!! I'm really surprised and excited (especially since I don't have to take care of them!

2) I took a little foray into Southern Utah this weekend with friends, and it was lots of fun. A highlight was visiting Colorado City, Arizona. For those of you who don't know, it is the home of Warren Jeffs, the FLDS leader. It was an interesting (but kinda creepy) city.

Well I think I'll quit for now. Let me just say that I am grateful for my many great friends and family. I couldn't do it without them!!

The Climb

Yesterday was kind of monumental. For personal reasons. But so was today.

Yesterday, I went with my mom to Salt Lake to drop her off with friends when the car started shaking like CRAZY! We pulled off and it turned out that one of the back tyres' tread was ripping apart. So, we drove about 25 mph to a Walmart and got it fixed. This was lucky (that we could get it fixed right away) but instead of getting home around 8, I got home around 10:30.

Today, I finally got my schedule figured out. I'll still only be taking 13 credits, but thats better than the 12 I had originally planned, which was kind of like 8. So now I'm taking:

D&C

Comparative Politics

Geography of Europe

Spanish 101

Folk Dance Performance (team)

This may be slightly embarassing, but I've come to like Miley Cyrus' song, "The Climb," and feel its applicable at the moment.

I can almost see it

That dream I am dreaming

But there's a voice inside my head saying

"You'll never reach it"

Every step I'm taking

Every move I make feels

Lost with no direction

My faith is shaking

But I gotta keep trying

Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain

I'm always gonna wanna make it move

Always gonna be a uphill battle

Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there

Ain't about what's waiting on the other side

It's the climb

The struggles I'm facing

The chances I'm taking

Sometimes might knock me down

But no, I'm not breaking

I may not know it

But these are the moments that

I'm gonna remember most

Just gotta keep going

And I, I got to be strong

Just keep pushing on

'Cause there's always gonna be another mountain

I'm always gonna wanna make it move

Always gonna be a uphill battle

Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there

Ain't about what's waiting on the other side

It's the climb