There's Something Wrong

For my statistics class I have to do a little research about crocodiles and present it in a powerpoint presentation. I came across this picture on the internet:


I don't think I would want to visit that zoo.

The Herald Sun

While I was serving in Durham, N.C. we had a photographer from the Herald Sun follow us around for several months observing different aspects of our work (morning study, knocking doors, eating with members, weekly planning, etc.).

His name is Mark Dolejs. He recorded an interview and made a little movie that was posted on the website for the Herald Sun. Mark told me to speak slowly because if I spoke too fast it would be difficult for viewers to understand me. So I spoke way too slow and sound like I am mentally slow.

It was a good experience to have him follow us around. He said his favorite moment with us was when we went to Duke University and looked at a copy of the original Book of Mormon. He said he had fun watching how excited we were looking up our favorite scriptures in the nearly 200 year-old book.

Misfits Island

Correct me if I am wrong, but I heard that Australia was populated a long time ago with criminals from England and other places. The punishment for the criminals was being exiled to Australia.

I think there should be another island for misfits like my mom and me (and others who have the label of misfits). My mom and I will be co-presidents. The only rule would be that anything goes unless it harms others. Taxes will be low, I promise.

The reason I have decided to move to Misfits Island is because I am "The Heathen" in my apartment. In the beginning of the semester we had an apartment council to create "The Constitution" in our apartment which includes rules about dishes, conflicts, and when we have prayers in the morning and scripture study at night. I told my roommates that I wasn't going to wake up for prayers in the morning and if I happened to be there for scripture study, that's great, but if not, not to wait for me.

We had another follow-up apartment council to discuss how well we were doing at living "The Constitution" and bring up other issues (does any other 20-something year-old roommates have apartment councils, or are we the only weird and crazy ones?). At the end of our apartment council one of my roommates brought to our attention that we would" feel the spirit more if we didn't use sarcasm." Instead of saying something sarcastic, he encouraged us to think of something sincere to say.

I, being the most sarcastic in the apartment, was thrilled for this new amendment to the constitution. It made me feel warm and fuzzy inside to know that I was the reason that my roommate couldn't feel the spirit in our apartment because of my sarcastic sense of humor and personality.

You know that saying, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all?" For me the saying goes, "If you don't have anything that isn't sarcastic to say, don't say anything at all. So I have been pretty quiet recently in my apartment. All my thoughts are sarcastic.

Even though some of my roommates are stuffed-shirts with Peter Priesthood personalities, they have good intentions. I know if I ever need anything they would be there to help me (in a very sincere, non-sarcastic way).

So if you are a "misfit" and want to join my mom and me on Misfits Island, we are taking applications. Just mail you application to:

Misfits Island Co.
Attn: Hell Raisers
666 Slippery Paths
Inferno, HL 12345

Family Dinners

I have many memories of the "Family Dinner." It was at the family dinner I learned about all of mom's surgeries and pregnancies. It was at the family dinner I learned which cow's gave birth recently. It was at the family dinner I learned about politics. It was at the family dinner I learned...and the list goes on.


This semester my roommates and I decided to have "Family Dinner." So far I haven't learned anything quite as exciting as mom's surgeries or pregnancies, or the birth of calfs, but it is interesting to get to know my roommates a little better. Each roommate is assigned a particular night, and he is then responsible for food to be on the table by 5 pm. And if you can't make it at 5 pm, then a plate is saved for you. So far this dinner thing has gone well. The standard was set high the first week with dinners such as chicken parmesan, homemade chicken noodle, shish kabobs, lazangna, and I made chicken fajitas.

I am assigned to Thursday and I decided to make chicken curry today, with kalrose rice, and a salad. The recipe was simple. I placed the chicken in the crock pot, then put the chopped sweet potatoes and onion on top, and poured the sauce which included orange juice, curry, salt, pepper, garlic, and chicken bouillon granules.

I dedicate this picture to mom:


The salad is underneath the tomatoes, cucumber and carrots. My senior year in high school I had to bake cookies for a bake sale for FBLA. I was very confused why I my mom was making me wrap the ginger bread men into cellophane bags and then tie them off with fancy ribbon. My thought was the first thing this person will do is rip the bag open and eat the cookie without recognizing the effort that went into the cookie. But my mom was insistant that it's not just about the taste. It's also about the presentation. The salad was my presentation.

First you put rice on your plate:

Then you put the curry chicken on top of the rice:


Finally you sprinkle the green onion and chopped peanuts on top of the curry chicken and rice:

We had store bought roles. I know, not very original:


For the most part I felt it was a success. I accidentally put too much salt in the sauce, so I had to add more orange juice. While family dinners in college aren't quite as exciting or revealing as family dinners at home, I am grateful to have a warm meal everyday at 5.

Bon Appetit!

Winter Wonder Land

It seems funny to me that the Christmas my siblings decide to stay home is the Christmas that La Grande looked like this:


On Christmas Eve my mom and I even sun bathed in the backyard and got a pretty good tan (and no tan lines might I add).

But last year was quite the opposite. When I arrived home from serving in the North Carolina Raleigh Mission in December 2008, this is what I came home to:

We couldn't get into the front of the house because the drift was about seven feet tall at the peak and extended from the front door to the gravel parking spot. We had to make a path through the back yard and to the garage in order to get into the house.

On Saturday--the day of the Waite Family Christmas Party and the day before my homecoming talk--we had a blizzard and weren't able to get out by driving on our gravel lane. So we had to pack up, bundle up, cut through our neighbor's fences, and drive with 4-wheel drive vehicles through hay fields in order to get out. That night we stayed at my grandma's house.

We had to leave Tony and Heather's car behind:


The next day I gave my talk and had the party. Eventually my dad cleared out the lane and Sunday evening we moved back in. Shortly after arriving back home, luck would have it, our power went out. But mom was a prepared boy scout and had her head lamp:


So if you wonder what kind of weather we will have next Christmas, just give Heather a call and ask if they're coming home. If they are, it will probably be a bad winter with many blizzards. We don't read the Farmers Almanac, we just check Heather's plans.

The Incubator

I have had an interesting semester with my health. Generally I get sick once a semester with a cold that lasts about a week, but that's about it. This semester was different though. The morning of my birthday I woke up with a sore throat and by the end of the day my nose was running, and I was coughing and sneezing. I woke up the next morning feeling miserable.

I drugged myself up and went to church meetings and then church itself. When my bishop realized I was sick, he kicked me out of church (which was only the second time I have been kicked out of church...Primary being the first). After realizing how easy it was to get out of church, I might fake sick when I don't feel like going.

After a week, I felt better but still had a cough that lasted for several weeks. Finally after four weeks of coughing and telling myself that I would get better the next day, I listened to my mother and went to the Community Care (my mom was about to come to Rexburg and drag me there if I didn't go on my own). My doctor told me that I had a mild form of pneumonia called walking pneumonia. He put me on an anti-biotic and a cough suppressant.

I started to feel better the next few days, but woke up one day feeling miserable again. I finally went to the Community Care again and tested positive for Influenza A (which is what the swine flu is under). I slept the next few days in my bedroom with the heat blasting because I had the chills. My room was 100 degrees. One of my roommates who is a biology major compared my room to an incubator and my pillow as the petri dish.


My roommates posted signs saying that I had the flu and to stay away. I felt like the diseased kid. One roommate sprayed Lysol in my face, and another roommate sprayed Lysol in the shower 30 seconds after I had gotten out (even though I wasn't contagious anymore).


A few weeks after I had the swine flu, I finally felt much better. After being sick for two and a half months, I have decided to do all I can to not get sick.

Billy the Blood Drop

This semester I decided to be involved on campus. I applied for a position as a manager of the Blood Drive, which is part of the Service Activities. I had been involved with the Service Activities program on campus two other semesters, and loved it, so I wanted to be part of it again. I had a phone interview during the summer and was extended the position.

The first few week of the semester I recruited and interviewed five others to be on my council. We met weekly planning and organizing the six day blood drive which would be held on our campus. Our responsibility was to work with the Red Cross and BYU-Idaho to coordinate the event. We only had a month to find roughly 800 people to sign up to donate blood and 30-40 people to volunteer at the blood drive.

We did everything we could think of. We sent our campus emails, placed banners and poster all around campus, announced the event in our classes, and had booths in a busy place on campus to recruit. I felt like a missionary again. I had to get out my comfort zone and talk to everyone about the event (contacting). I had to pass out literature (pass along cards and pamphlets). I had to stand by the booth and yell at crowds as they walked by (street preaching). I took phone numbers and names of friends of those who signed up (referrals from converts). I looked at past records to get information of those who donated in the past (Former Investigator Sheets). And I shared why it was important for them to donate (testifying).


After working to death, we finally held the event. Everything seemed to go pretty well. Not everyone who went to donate could. Some were deferred before they could even get to the chair, and some couldn't bleed enough while in the chair. So our goal was to get 490 pints of blood. Luckily we got 498!

This is my friend Kimball and me.

BYU-Idaho's Blood Drive is the largest blood drive in Idaho. This video is pretty much how we felt when it was over. After our last day, I went to bed that night and slept 11 hours.