December 10, 1991
I only have a few minutes in which to write, because today is the last day of my Physical Science class & I decided to attend for once. Class starts in a little over 10 minutes.
Today is Natalie's 21st Birthday! I've made her a cake & I'm bringing her a bottle of sparkling cider because she brought me a bottle for my 21st birthday.
Family Home Evening yesterday was a joke. We tried to organize a trip to Temple Square, but couldn't find enough transportation. So then no one wanted to go through with planning an alternative. We ended up going to a movie again, as always, because we couldn't think of anything fun & cheap to do. I should state, however, that Dave Peterson and Melanie Mills showed up out of the 10 members of the FHE group not living in Shipp 113. I'm sick of FHE & my FHE group.
Tomorrow is the last class day & we've only a week until finals. I'm going to have to study alot, & pray some, too, if I hope to do well on my finals! I can't wait until they are over! I want to go home.
*****
This was written while I was a student at BYU. The first paragraph includes a confession. There were certain classes in my college career that didn't get much face time from me. I showed up on the first week, picked up the syllabus, and listened to the first lecture or two. If the class didn't hold my interest, I did my studying at home in the textbook (following the syllabus) and turned up at the testing center on the dates listed in the syllabus to take the tests. This only worked on those beastly large classes that every undergrad is required to take. You know, the lecture hall filled with over 600 students all taking notes on whatever the minuscule dot of a man at the front of the room was droning on and on about. I'd end up pulling a low B or a C in the class and just walk away grateful that one was over with.
In fact, here is an amusing side story about one particular class. American Heritage is the beast of a class at BYU that EVERYONE must take to get an undergrad degree at that school. I never went to the lecture. But there were smaller lab classes that were required and attendance at those was mandatory, since they actually took roll there. On the first day, the TA running the class called roll for the first time. When he got to "Katharina Weierholt" on the list he paused and said, "Are you Norwegian?" Thinking he'd said "Is your name Norwegian?" I quickly responded with "Yes." After a bit of reflecting, though, I realized I'd just told this guy that I was, in fact, from Norway. Oops.
The class was deadly boring. I decided I'd spice it up (for myself, anyway) by pretending that I WAS from Norway! This, of course, meant I had to speak in an accent, if I was ever called upon to speak in class. Which was never, so the accent thing was pretty easy...
...until the day I was sitting in the back of the room, not paying attention.
TA: "...and has anyone here been inside a European cathedral?"
Me: (thinking, 'hey, if I'm from Norway, I probably have. I have no idea what he's even talking about, and I haven't really, but, more than half the class is raising their hands, so he won't call on me in the back.') Raise hand.
TA: "Katharina! Will you tell us what it was like?"
Me: ('Crap! How does he even remember my name? Now what?!?') "Vell, Eet vas verry, verry, beeg. And I felt so verry, verry smøll. Eet is so verry old. Een zee aisles, zee floor ees ahl vorn avay, from ahl zee øthare feet who ahve been zaire beefore you. You feel so eensigneeficant."
No kidding. (If any of my Norwegian cousins are reading this, I have to give you a great big apology! I admit, I was a complete and utter idiot and you deserve better than to be related to me.)
And his response?
TA: "YES!!! THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT!"
Me: ('Whew! I am NEVER raising my hand again!') As I slink down in my seat and hope a hole opens up and swallows me whole.
Back to the journal post. The second paragraph is about my best friend, Natalie. She was a best friend all growing up and was also at BYU. We've known each other since we were 10. We have grown apart over the years, but still keep in touch once a year at Christmas time. I got her Christmas card in the mail, today, in fact. She lives in Southern California now, a fact that I try not to be too envious over. ;)
The next part of the journal post is about Family Home Evening at school. Family Home Evening is one evening of the week dedicated to spending time as a family. Usually held on a Monday night. Great for actual families. Rather goofy and pointless for single college students. I think it was just another BYU attempt at the 'mix and mingle let's help these singles find a soul mate' gig. I did NOT find my soul mate at a single's FHE get together. Obviously, from the tone of this post.
And finally, you can tell from the final sentence just how homesick I was. Living 900 miles away from all family is tough when you are young and single. But it is interesting to note that in almost exactly a year, I would meet my future husband on December 6, 1992! (Yes, there is a post about that. Maybe you'll get that one next week.)
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