Look Up Brock, You're In the End Zone

This guy's face is all over campus.
Makes me smile every time.

Sometimes you go to Vegas on your designated bimonthly food shopping day and when you get home, you have nothing to eat. If you’re lucky, you might just have an older brother that loves you and also needs food and has a yellow car with lightning bolts on the sides. That’s real. While shopping at Smith’s, I told Derek I was looking for a few things that I hoped were there, but that I’d really only ever seen at Macey’s. Derek, with wisdom bequeathed by his premature birth status, says, Why didn’t you ask me to go to Macey’s then? I would have said ‘No’, and we would have come here anyways, but at least you would have tried! Cheers to brothers that always got my back.

Remember that position that I accidentally applied for and won? Turns out I’m a member of the RMATA, a council of student athletic trainers in charge of planning the national convention and advocating for student rights and all that. I had my first conference call this week, since all 13 members are spread out throughout the western US. (Our group is called District 7, and, like the Hunger Games, each district has a specialty. Ours is ultrasound).

I still go to school and clinicals and work every week. Also, cranking on my Lazy Man Iron Man. I conveniently planned one of my runs to drop by the Farmer’s Market at the stadium in search of delicious fresh bread, but alas, there was none. Which is ok, because I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about running home whilst toting several loaves of warm bread.

I ate lunch with some old mission friends, Addy Bentley and Alisa Hulme. This appointment was several weeks in the making, which is mostly my fault. We claimed a booth as our lunching spot of choice and decided that Alisa and I should actually start a booth. Alisa will make ads with her beautiful handwriting and I will give terrible, but funny, dating advice.

Then, because I had previously driven Derek to the airport and had his car, I drove up to Logan. I chilled at Hannah’s apartment watching French television with her roommate until she finished rehab. And by that I mean strengthening her peroneal muscles to hopefully avoid ankle inversion because she tore the best ligament and now there’s only two left.

We chilled and then went to Chili’s for dinner with my old comp, Sierra Koyle, who happens to be another injury case for me to observe. Good company, good food, mediocre service: Welcome to Chili’s. Did Hannah and I get in a fight and spill a large glass of water everywhere? Yes. This is why we can’t have nice things. Hannah and I got ice cream and watched an episode of Chuck before I headed back to Provo.

That face, though.

Saturday I had an early work meeting, during which this video clip was played. Did I cry? Yes. I don’t cry at church, but get me to a sports game, and the Spirit hits me in the tear ducts with a jackhammer.

I got to hang out with some of my favorite people for the Utah football game. I tried to simultaneously study chemistry and it went fairly well. The Utes had this trick play they wanted Britty to run and we all knew it was a bad idea, but they ended up running it and Britty got burned pretty bad. It could have cost them the game, but Britty came right back with some sweet plays, Booker helped out, and the Utes ended up with the W. All’s well that ends well.

In other news, I’m trying out a new video series. It’s kind of like a Vlog of old mission stories, recorded with appropriate dramatics for future posterity. The first installment is complete, but I want to see how a few more turn out before I decide if I want to go public with them.