Answering Machine

I answer the phone in my apartment a lot. And the fact of the matter is that it's very rarely for me. We also have caller ID so I could realistically screen all the calls and not answer the phone when my roommates are gone. Then the machine could get it and I wouldn't have to remember to tell someone that someone called them. But I don't, and I don't really know why.

The funny thing is that when it's for Carly she usually isn't there, so her sister (that's who it usually is) ends up calling her cell phone anyway. Why not call the cell phone first and then calling the apartment if she is home?

I don't really know how to simplify things when it's for Charlotte, because she doesn't have her cell phone with her half the time. She is a recent convert to the cell phone world. We tell her that she's going to get kidnapped or something and we won't know because we'll try to call her phone to find out where she is and hear her phone ring in the other room.

Then there are my friends that don't have cell phones. It's always really odd to pick up the phone and have it be for Seth or Pavio. I mean, really, they don't live here. Well, Seth practically does. Sometimes I want to tell Sabrina, Seth's sister, that I know he's here a lot but please tell me this is the last number you tried. And if someone is trying to find Pavio and he's not with Alex or Mike or at his apartment then he's not here either. And both Alex and Mike have cell phones.

I know the phone isn't for me, and I don't like talking on the phone, but I still jump up when it rings. I'll be hanging out with friends and the phone will ring and I'll jump up saying, "it's not for me."

I've come to expect that with the apartment phone. And it really doesn't matter that much because I've got my cell phone, and anyone that wants to talk to me usually calls that first.

BUT . . .

Saturday I was on the way to Los Hermanos, a Mexican restaurant. I was riding with Stephanie, Emily, and Scott. My cell phone rang and it said it was Alex who was riding in the car behind us. I answer it and am met with silence. So I say "hello" again and I hear Mike's girlfriend say, "can I talk to Scott?"

It boils down to Scott making faces at Mike, who was driving, and making "call me" motions to Reagan, Mike's girlfriend. So she did, but Scott doesn't have a cell phone either. So she used Alex's phone to call mine. I handed the phone to Scott. And then she hung up on him.

Move over Abby

Dear Abby this, dear Abby that. Sometimes I think I could give Abby a run for her money. The things I get asked for advice on would probably stump even that renowned guru. You might not think it possible, but the number of things I have been asked about range from what someone might like for their birthday to marriage and pregnancy.

I kid you not. I have been asked for advice about:
Birthday presents
Christmas presents
Telling parents she is moving out
How to know if a boy likes her
How to know if a girl likes him
Should she go to class or finish homework
How to flirt
What to do if he likes a girl that doesn't like him back
How to get over someone
If she is being a brat or not
Telling parents about car trouble that happened when her boyfriend was driving
Should she like someone or not
Should she play tennis with him
Should she go out with him
Should he go out with her
Long distance relationships
If she should tell him that she likes him
How to tell someone that he's not interested
Should she tell her parents about who she's dating
She hates her roommates, what should she do
His roommate smells like fish, how can he get rid of the smell
What should they say in whatever situation
She's pregnant, should she tell her parents, and if so how
She's engaged, should she tell her parents
Is she being stupid
She's confused about her boyfriend, what should she do
How do you spell . . .
Should she give her baby up for adoption
Wanting a divorce
Talking to parents about whatever really
Self-confidence issues
Compulsive lying
What shoes should she wear
Dating in general
What book to read
Why does my little brother hate him
Sharing the gospel
Is it silly if she gets married next year
The list could go on and on.

All in all, I don't mind being asked for advice. It's just that I find it funny when I'm asked about things I have absolutely no clue about. I have been on one date in my entire life, so that should pretty much nix any relationship advice. I depend quite strongly on spell-check. I never know what to buy people for Christmas or birthdays. I'm not the greatest missionary. The only things on this list that I feel even somewhat qualified to advise on is the shoes thing and the book thing. And maybe about if they are being stupid or not, I'm usually pretty good at that one.

The most frustrating thing about it is that I feel like despite my inexperience with most of these things, I feel like I give pretty sound advice. Which would be great if the people asking for advice would actually take it to heart. Unfortunately, I find that usually they ignore my brilliant advice and then find out later that it was the exact right thing to do. Of course as far as what book to read or which shoes to wear goes, it doesn't really matter, but on the big things?

All I'm saying is that if you are pregnant, then yes you should tell your parents. They didn't mean it when they said they would kick you out if you ever got pregnant without being married first. Yes you should tell your parents that you are getting married. Yes you are being a brat when you ask for a second iPod for Christmas because you want a pink one. When you are out with your boyfriend and the car hits a rock in the road that dents your frame, oil pan, and gives your car a flat, you should not tell your parents that it was your boyfriend driving at the time.

I mean, sometimes it is better if they just don't know.

Moonlight Madness

My roommate, Char, and I were talking a few months ago about hiking the "Y." We decided that it would be so cool to go at night, preferably when the moon is out. Being the forward thinking people we are we set it for March. It should be thawed out by then right? Well . . . no actually, but at least it wouldn't be quite as cold.

We mention our plan to our friends, Seth, Alex, and Pavio. Set the day for the first full moon, (I think there is a second one this month). As fate would have it, it happened to be on a Saturday. Of course, our plans are never set in stone, so we are unsure if it will actually happen until 9:30 pm the night of the adventure. Pavio isn't able to make it, but the other four of us pile into Char's little white car and we drive to the parking lot beneath the "Y."

The parking lot is pretty full of cars, something we think to be quite odd. The four of us set off, past the fence and onwards up the icy and snow covered trail. I'm not a particularly fast hiker. I like to take my time and enjoy the view and the beauty, but my friends are determined to get to the top as fast as possible, so they keep encouraging me to walk faster.

About fifteen minutes into our hike we pass some people on their way back down. "You are almost there," they tell us.

Fifteen minutes later:
"It's not that much further," says Seth, the only experience "Y" mountain hiker among us.

Four more switchbacks later, he says it again. "It's really not that much further." The rest of us are getting tired of hearing this, as the trail is getting steeper with each turn we make.

Finally, the trail splits into two sections. It looks like one trail goes the more direct way and the other continues with the switchbacks. We opt for the direct route as we are all sick of the blasted switchbacks at this point.

We find ourselves at a dead end. We look around in the moonlight and are able to make out a trail straight up from where we are. The snow is several inches deep with a nice crust on the top. We climb straight up.

Several yards and a few near death experiences later we find ourselves at the actual trail. Looking down to where we just climbed from we realize that we just hiked the "Y", literally hiked straight up the "Y".

We sit there on the trail, the warmth that we produced while climbing slowly slips away as we eat granola bars and drink water. All of Provo lies before us, lights and cars beautifully spread out across the valley.

My inner wolf calls to me and I take the opportunity to howl at the moon, (this is actually a running joke with me and my friends. They say I am a werewolf because I always know when the full moon is. I don't know about that, but I do like the moon).

The trip back down is faster. I am in the back for a while, but only to judge how slick the trail is. When the path is clear of ice and snow I let myself run down the frozen trail. The moonlight casts shadows across the ground, dancing in the brush and making patterns in the snow. The air is cool and crisp, but a hat becomes too warm just as it did on the way up. We pass another group of people, and we pass on the message of "you're almost there." This time at least they are a lot closer than when we heard it.

The parking lot is still full, which we can't figure out since we've only seen two other groups of people, each only big enough to fill one car. We climb back into the car, and drive back home.

It has been a night of moonlight and fun.