Merry Christmas!!!

Courtesy of Julian Smith, my favorite movie maker/actor of all time.

I'm officially home from school until April! Drove through three separate storms and five states in two days.
Total Traveling time: 17 hours
Things learned:
Driving through a blizzard in the dark feels like driving at warp speed.
It is possible to make the suicide run from Provo to Temecula in one shot, but it's best done with a friend and lots of music.
It's also possible to sing yourself hoarse on said trip.
ALWAYS watch the weather. Driving to get ahead of storms isn't fun, but neither is trying to get home when three of your required mountain passes are snowed in/flooded.

Anyway, Merry Christmas everyone! Hope it's fantastic!

Fere Universa

Or, A (theoretically) quick update because I have white glove tonight and need to get back to cleaning.

I finished my last Chemistry class today, and ultimately am very sad. I loved that class!
I have one more Orchestra rehearsal, then Sunday's Dress rehearsal, and then Sunday will be the Messiah Fireside. 500 singers, 200 musicians, 8 soloists, 1 Messiah. I will be one of the 200, and I'm more ecstatic than words can describe.
The only other class I have is Book of Mormon, which I'll sit in two more times.
Well, that and a LOT of online classwork.
Between today and Dec. 17, I have no fewer 5 exams, only 3 of which are actual finals. I have crazy teachers who think it'd be fun to do a unit test right before finals. Silly Teachers.
Tonight I have a massive white glove clean check in my dorm. I've spent over three hours just cleaning the fridge and defrosting the freezer. I still have to go through and clean every cupboard in the kitchen, inside and out, then completely overhaul my bedroom. The goal is to make everything look better than when we moved in 3 months ago. The problem is, we still have to live here for another week too. I'm still trying to figure out how to get everything move-out clean, a week before I move out. And, for that matter, how to keep it that way.

For anyone who's wondering, I feel 100% recovered from my surgery, and feel healthier than I have in over three years. Normally, I'd post pictures of my four awesome scars, but for modesty's sake I will forbear.

By way of update, I'm changing my major...probably. Seeing as how I'm an average student (ok, maybe a smidge above average, but not enough to count), and the nursing program involves competing with over 200 students for 24 spots, well...I don't have the 3.5 required to get in, let alone the 4.0 required to beat the other applicants. So I've decided to pursue and idea that I've been tossing around for a while now. Even though I hate to look like one of the 150 other students who decided that the nursing program was too hard, and will end up going for something like dental hygiene (no offense to hygienists, I love you), I have decided to look into becoming a paramedic. Like I said I've been tossing this idea around for a while. Over summer was when I first started getting the impression that it's more of where I should be, and the idea has slowly taken life, grown a personality, and decided to nag me constantly until I look after it better. It's like, Nursing is the neighbors dog, and she's so cute, but someone just gave me my own little puppy, and though it may not be the purebred labradoodle from next store, my little Paramedic mutt still wants to be taken care of. So I think I'm going to give Nursing one final goodbye, and start falling in love with Paramedic, because he's still adorable and puppy-like, and it could be the start of a beautiful relationship.

There's so much to do in these next eight days, I just might go insane.

Thank you so much to all of my family members who have made this semester possible.
With any luck, I'll manage it even better in the spring.

Much Love,
Katie

Recovery

I'm alive!!! Tired, bruised, covered in needle pokes and bandages, and 83% immobile, but still, I'm alive.

The Adventures of Surgery at College: Day 1

At 8:20 am, Catherine, Hannah K, and I loaded into Clarke (my car) and drove the terribly long three minute-drive to the hospital. (On good days, I walk there for my appointments.)
By 8:30, the three of us were back in Day Surgery, I was shown my room and a gown, and was settled into my new home (at least, home for nine hours). For the next hour, I laid back cheerfully as a menagerie of nurses, anesthesiologists, doctors and surgeons all took turns at talking to me, checking my monitors, hooking me up to a new beepy-thingy, or stabbing me with a new needle. Honestly, I thought it was cool. Most people don't go into surgery smiling. I always knew I was weird, though.
Right around 9:30, I was wheeled away into an operating room, moved to a new table and then...who knows? That's about where my memory stops. My next conscious thought?
10:30 ish: There's a mask on my face...my nose itches...I'm waking up?...Oh...I must have already had the surgery...weird.
That is always the most disorienting part about being anesthetized for me: realizing that at some point in the previous hour, without my knowledge, I was rendered unconscious, someone made four small holes in my tummy, did what they needed to do, stitched me back up, and waited for me to regain consciousness, and all I'm aware of is the before and after.
Obviously, this post will not involve pictures...
By the time I was wheeled back into my room, I was mostly conscious and aware of all that was around me. Catherine asked me how I felt, and then joked about how I wouldn't likely remember that conversation. Haha, I remember!!!
I have very little hold on what happened for the next seven hours, but it mostly consisted of me dozing off between visits from the nurse, feeling good as I was neither nauseous or in as much pain as expected, denying the morphine and later wishing I hadn't as the Lortab did almost nothing, and admiring all the little beeping noises and flashing lights that revolved around me.
At about 2:30, I was thinking I was feeling well enough to go, but agreed to trying to eat some solid food first. My goodness was that a bad idea. I had two bites of toast and few spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup, and I was done. My stomach hurt, I was suddenly nauseous, and I really, really wanted that next dose of pain-killers.
Finally, around 5:30, I was released from the hospital. I miraculously managed to tolerate the incredibly bumpy ride to the pharmacy, hobbled in, managed to make my point to the pharmacist enough to get the desired drugs, was shepherded home, and collapsed into my bed (which had been moved to the floor, thankfully).
A handful of people popped in and out of my apartment for the rest of the night, including neighbors and visiting teachers, and culminated in the arrival of my mother. I was SO glad she got to come! While I didn't sleep peacefully that night, I at least slept, and mostly free of pain.

Day 2:
At the beginning of the day, I felt good! I wasn't in the mood to eat much, and I was taking my pain-meds faithfully, but in truth, I wasn't in too much pain. Ok, I admit, I wasn't in pain, as long as I had a hot pad on my neck, an ice pack on my tummy, and I tried really hard to not move. More people swung by to say hi, I talked to family on the phone, and enjoyed my mom's company while we read on the couch. I was starting to think, 'Dang, I made my mom fly out here for nothing!', when the real pain hit. I was starting to get used to the idea that I could drug-up every four hours, but the pills would only last for three, when the three hour mark struck me. I took some OTC stuff to tide me over, and as soon as I was allowed to, took a vicodin. Then, because I was allowed to and hadn't yet, I took another. The pain was starting to scare me though; I thought there was no way I should be in this much pain after the medication. Mom sat with me for over an hour while we waited to see what would happen, and then I went to the emergency room. Once there, they cruelly made me wait an eternity (or maybe just five minutes, during the initial Q&A) before injecting me with some kind of magic happy drug that made me feel a whole lot better. Bonus, it also let me experience waking dreams for the first time. A set of Xrays and some bloodwork later, I was told my recovery was mostly normal, and that I only needed to worry if the pains happened again. I was allowed to finally go home, and once again, sleep.

Day 3:
I slept until about 10:30, ate a cinnamon role, called my ward calling companion, then went back to sleep until around 1:30. Best day ever.
Ok, not really, but all the same, I liked the sleep. I read some more, and tried to do some homework, but invariably fell asleep each time I tried. Mom made the best Sunday Dinner ever, that had boys poking their heads in to see what smelled so good. My home teacher came over later at night to meet me and my roommates, and to check on me, of course, and the Elder's Quorum president also dropped by to see how I was holding up. (Apparently my reason for missing ward council was made clear. My calling companion didn't want me to lose my ecclesiastical endorsement for ditching church)

Day 4:
I went to my first class of the day, Chemistry, and fumbled through making up what I had missed on Friday. Then I had the terrible task of taking my mother to the airport to say goodbye again. I'm so glad she came, and I'm going to miss her!
There are very few places to get food between Idaho Falls and Rexburg, and I pulled off at three different exits before finding one with a fast-food place. Almost as soon as I got off the freeway and pulled into Rexburg, I was met with the first frozen white precipitation-fall of the season. (There is still debate about whether it was snow or hail. While, yes, it did seem a little too compact to be snow, in my experience, hail is even harder and hurts when it hits you.) I struggled through another two classes, walked (very, very slowly) back to my dorm, and was ordered onto the couch for the rest of the evening by my angelic roommates. Unfortunately, I have to teach Indexing to FHE groups in an hour, otherwise I would listen, and never leave this couch again. Oh well, duty calls.

P.S. If you read through this entire post, have a cookie, on me.

Madison Memorial

In which the author learns to love the hospital

So most of you who know me or my family probably already know this, but I'll be going in for surgery next week, on the 22nd. I know, classes barely started a month ago, and yes, I'm roughly 900 miles from home, but I've been sick for years now, and this should help, finally.

Half of the reason we (my family, my roommates, and I) decided the surgery should be done here is because I'm getting sick enough that it's interfering with school, and a really good portion of the other half of reasons is because of the hospital, Madison Memorial. I've been there about three times already for tests and other appointments, and I'm in love with the staff, the doctors, and even the building itself. Everyone is kind, and almost everyone is LDS. By almost everyone, I mean when I met my doctor, he introduced himself as, "Hi, I'm Dr. so-and-so. I've lived in Rexburg my whole life, went to the college when it was still Ricks, have six kids, and served my mission in the Netherlands". LOVE it!

I'm so grateful to everyone who's been there for me through this; every prayer, every card in the mail, every call, and every facebook message has been felt more than I can describe. My roommates have all been angels, and will be helping with transportation and my post-op nursing. I'll be moving my mattress to the floor for a while, since climbing into the 5+ foot high bed with staples in my tummy might be a smidge difficult, but that just means I'll need to actually make the bed on Mondays when the family comes over for FHE. :P Kidding, I always make my bed! ... cough cough. The one other blessing that makes this all possible: My momma gets to stay the weekend with me. She'll miss the surgery itself, but that's okay. It's the thought that really counts. Bonus, I get home-cooked meals for four days!



I wanted to share this picture with the blogosphere, too. Years ago, one of my Young Woman leaders shared this with me, as something that helped her when her infant needed surgery. It was on the wall of the Presbyterian hospital they were at, and she had to search high and low for a copy. Luckily, she spared me the search, and gave me a little 3" computer printout. I now keep this picture on my bulletin board, right in front of me, where I can see it all the time. It serves as a great comfort and reminder that I'm never alone.




I'll spare you all another food entry...sorta. I did make some rockin' pancakes from scratch, and snapped a picture...for posterity, of course...but that's ok. I'm pretty sure I mentioned my exponentially increasing klutziness in one of my previous posts. Well, I had one particularly bad day this past week. Luckily, none of the damage done was permanent, I didn't trip up or down the stairs, and I have yet to break any of my glass dishware, so it's not too bad. The entire day, though, was filled with events like: stabbing myself in the eye with the mascara brush, managing to crack an egg so that shell fell into the bowl (the only part of the egg to actually crack was a perfect circle the size of a nickel, right on top); I tripped over someone else in Chemistry, accidentally poured half the noodles down the drain when trying to drain my macaroni, knocked over every bottle that sat on my dresser, stubbed my toes, jammed my fingers, and whole myriad of other things, all in a single day. The day after, however, was the complete opposite. Everything I tried went right, from the elusive Cream Tuna, which I had never made correctly until that night, down to the cookies I made and the tests I took. I was feeling so rebellious, thanks to my good-luck high, that I even ventured to play with the six raw eggs in my fridge.



Love the little cuties! The one with whiskers was especially tasty!
In hindsight, I probably should have eaten the menacing looking one first. He's terrifying the egg in front of him, and the egg to his left looks mildly concerned...
...he shall be eaten next.

Week 3. Or is it 4? Dang, can't remember.

Or, Life Continues Onward Quickly

For the sake of consistency, I figured I can start off with more food. Monday, I played with my crock-pot for the first time, and made stew! Also a first-time event, it turned out exactly as I wanted it to!
SEE!! YAY!!! My other meals are made up of a lot of Macaroni and Cheese, Ground Beef and Beans that made special appearances as Frito Mix, a taco, and two chimichangas, more bowls of Ramen, some rice, some pasta, and repeat. Oh well, At least I'm remembering to eat most of the time.

Now, I miss my family, of course, but other than the standard things I miss from home, I miss my books the most. My books were always my pretend worlds that I escaped to whenever mine lost it's spark, and they always made me happy. Unfortunately, I left home in the middle of at least four different series, and the handful I brought can't cut it! So, I miss my family, and I miss my dog, and I miss my friends, but I also miss Shane, Michael, Eve, Claire, Jace, Clary, Simon, the crazy killer Unicorn group, including Astrid, the boys, and Astrid's cousin Phil, I miss all my Dessen boys, like Owen, Dexter, Wes, and, Eli, and I miss every resident of Tortall that lived within a good 600 year span, including but not limited to, George, Rosto the Piper, Allana, Aly, Crow-man, Kel and Bekka, and I miss Fire and Brigan. I think I got everyone...my apologies if I forgot someone. There's so many!

Let's see, what else is going on...well, I had a slew of doctors appointments in the past two weeks, and the most recent one left me sick for two full days. As such, I was relegated to one of my least favorite diet plans.

Yeah, that's Mountain Dew. Proof I'm my father's daughter, right? Sprite just makes me feel more gross. Dew settles my stomach. Oh well, I know I'm weird. We can move on now.

So most of you know that here at Brigham Young University - Idaho, we have a set of guidelines called the Honor Code. It is basically our rules, but some of the things are more for our personal growth than for our safety or for the maintenance of common sense. As many Latter-Day Saints have decided to eliminate caffeine from their diets, the school campus does not sell caffeinated sodas at all. Sadly, this includes Dew. This led to my roommate and I running down to the corner store to buy some of the awesomeness. And what did I see as soon as I picked up the bottle?



You read that right. RIGHT there on the bottle of Mountain Dew, it says "Honor the Code". I'm pretty sure this has something to do with the video game it was advertising, but I was still hit by the irony, and almost put the bottle back down. Then when I went to buy it, the cashier noticed the SAME phrase, and also commented on the irony. Sigh.

College otherwise is going pretty well. I've been having some fun, and made some new friends. Last Saturday I went to a bonfire with my FHE group, and it went something like:

30 seconds later:

And for the rest of the night:


I also made a new friend today. Our meeting went something like:

'Running slightly late for class, Katie quickly opens her locker and slides out her violin, almost hitting a young man passing by.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Katie says, realizing in hindsight that she should have made sure no one was there before turning her instrument into a weapon.
"No, it's fine really. I didn't want to run into your instrument, I know they get expensive. Are you alright?" The young man says with a smile.
"Ha, yeah, thanks. I really need to be more careful."
"My name's Brad, by the way." Brad said, sticking out his hand for Katie to shake. Katie awkwardly shifts her violin to her other hand so she can shake his hand and introduce herself, meanwhile dropping her music folder, which Brad hastily reaches down to pick up.
"Sorry, I should have offered my other hand." Brad says with a laugh
"Yeah, we're really good at this game."
"Well, have a good class." Brad finished, then walked off smiling.'

Ok, so maybe we're not new best friends, but I still love meeting people here. My favorite people I've met completely by accident, like by accidentally running into them, or tripping over their chair in Chemistry. Now that I think about it, my klutziness has multiplied at least three-fold since I got to this campus. Oh well.

Thanks for taking time to enjoy the pretty pictures and odd stories of my week.
I wish you all well!

Katie Helen

Dorm Life

Wherein this author learns to compromise and improvise.
Also known as: The Adventures of Cooking in College - Adventure 2

My list of meals is small and repetitive, but happily, edible. (For the most part.)
My last post on the soup was my first experience cooking in a new dorm. Since then, I've made Mac n' Cheese, a Grilled Cheese Sandwich, lots of fried eggs, a bowl of ramen, and Pigs in a Blanket (hot dogs in a crescent roll). Most of these continued on to take the place of many other meals, as this author is a happy left-over addict. Unfortunately, as the author is still in a new-to-her kitchen, things don't always work like she would expect them to. For example, there is no 'middle rack' in the oven. When making my piggies, they started on the upper-middle rack, but started browning on top while still raw on bottom. So I switched them to the lower-middle rack. I thought they were so perfect when I pulled them out of the oven...only to discover the bottoms of the rolls burned to a lovely charcoal color.
This is where improvise comes in. During their first meal-time appearance, I ate them with left-over ketchup packets from a recent trip to KFC. It was ok, but I could still taste the burnt roll. On their first reappearance as left overs, I mixed a little Cream of Chicken soup with a tiny bit of water and pepper, and poured it over the hotdog rolls like gravy. Sounds weird? Well, yeah, but it tasted so good, so I really didn't care.

My first Sunday dinner at College. Yum!

Dorms, while inexpensive, are also inexpensively made; you get what you pay for. I payed for single-layer cinderblock walls. I did not anticipate being able to hear the girl-next-door's phone vibrate on her desk while I sat at mine studying. I've heard quite a few interesting conversations through these walls. On the plus side, one dorm was playing church music today, and the entire block was able to enjoy it. Now I, who have always been a self-considered night owl, have been trying to go to sleep at a decent hour. The same cannot be said for some of the other girls in my building. My compromise? Ask them to keep the noise down after quiet time. Still hear them? Yep. So I've learned to sleep with my iPod headphones in. Uncomfortable at times, but I'd rather fall asleep to my music, as opposed to phone calls about how much one of my neighbors misses [insert boys' name here]. My roommates and I are also learning to compromise with our time. Mostly it involves dancing around each other in the kitchen, and checking before hogging the bathroom for half an hour, but it's all good.

Obviously, by the fact that I am sitting here typing this, it can be understood that I survived my first week of college :)

I've learned to fight with the kitchen, not against it. I've learned that my next shopping trip includes fun items like ketchup, a yellow highlighter, some form of fresh edible plants, and a raid of DI's kitchen supplies. Sounds fun to me!
Love you all!
Katie Helen

The Adventures of Cooking at College: Day 1

Wherein this author learns that 3000 feet makes a difference.

I made my first meal in my dorm today. I was planning on Ramen, but when my roommate requested Mom's Potato Cheese Soup, I figured I might as well make the week's grocery trip today. Turns out, my total for making a humongous stock pot of soup came out to only $5.26, and I can get at least three more meals out of it! So, soup I made. Unfortunately, even with a warning, I didn't believe the altitude would make that much of a difference...until it took over half an hour to boil the potatoes. Of course, in my haste, the chunks were cut too big and I should have let them boil more. The result? A thin, VERY chunky, but tasty, Potato Cheese Soup.

It could have been worse. At least I didn't scorch it this time.

I'd love to take pictures of my dorm and show you all my lovely new living arrangements, but alas, my phone cannot take a good enough picture, and I have neither cable nor memory card port to transfer photos from my camera. I'll simply say that I love my roommates, getting in and out of bed is treacherous, and I don't really have enough room to sit up in bed...but that's all :)

I miss my family already, but I'm happy. I start classes on Friday.

Chapter Two

In which this author discovers higher education.

Hey family, friends, and the occasional stalker!
All summer long I've been slowly collecting things and stock-piling them all over the house; a little of the old, a little of the new. All so that I can make the transition into Chapter Two as smoothly as possible. You see, before he left on his mission, a friend of mine divided life into chapters, and I'm rather fond of the idea.
Chapter One: Childhood/Adolescence. The time to learn and grow physically and mentally.
Chapter Two: Young Adulthood. The time when some of the most important decisions are being made, like: where to go to college, what to study, what new friends to make, etc. Also the time to learn important life skills necessary for living out from under the parents' roof, like cooking, cleaning, budgeting, etc. Considered by some to be the time to decide whom to marry.
Chapter Three: Married With Kids. A time for young families to learn and grow and to learn to work with and love one's spouse.
Chapter Four: Retirement. The time after kids have left the home. A time to spoil grandkids, maybe serve a mission, and be of as much service as possible.
Chapter Five: Eternal Life. See: Gospel Doctrine

So, this means that I have left Chapter One behind. My things are all packed, my car is completely full, and my room is a bit hollow, but still full of me. In one week, I'll be the new kid in school, with new roommates and crazy classes. I'll be living 900 miles from my parents, my brother and sister, and my dog.

The most common question I've been getting is: "So are you excited?"
Blanket answer: Not really. I'm definitely not bouncing up and down in sheer excitement over what the next four months will hold. I'm kind of scared, kind of happy, kind of sad, kind of nervous, kind of excited, kind of just a little bit of everything.

The most common bit of advice I've gotten: "Now, don't go getting married your first semester there!"
Blanket response: Oh, I don't intend to. I mean, obviously if something happens, it happens. If I meet him, I meet him. However, I JUST got out on my own. Let's leave it at that for a while, shall we? Give me a couple years, ad then I'll start looking for my eternal someone.

What I want to say to everyone:
Thank you. Thanks for helping me through the hard times, for helping me graduate, for helping me get into college, for always being ready with advice and warm words to help me along my way. I love you all and am so grateful to have you all in my life.

Love,
Katie Helen

The Academy

My brother showed me this before he left. It's...well...super cool.

Speaking of the great Garrelito, I mean, Garrett, as of a week ago today, has been at the Border Patrol Academy in New Mexico, and has joined the ranks in his class of 50 interns. His daily schedule consists of things like:

2 hours of Physical Training

2 hours of Law

2 hours of Nationality Law

_hours of Constitution Law

2 hours of anti terrorism

give or take time for showering, eating, gear fitting, studying, homework, and sleep.

Today, My beloved brother had marching practice, for inspection. He sent us a picture of him in uniform. Wow!

I officially love my brother, and am very, very proud of him.

Le Gasp!

So...I was called a liberal today. By my own father. I was outraged. Some of you may agree with him. I find myself very conservative. I do not, however, believe there is any possible, fool-proof way (anymore) to clearly identify EXACTLY who is and is not a citizen of this country, in investigations as superficial as highway patrol pull-overs for traffic violators. Sure, they can ask for an ID, a social-security number, a birth certificate; but every single one of these is arguably very easy to fake. Just ask any teenager who's ever bought a drink of alcohol or gotten into a club. I'm not saying we should just accept them here. FAR from. However, I do not want my life to be reminiscent of Nazi Germany, with the country I was born and raised in to be requiring me to carry around 'papers'. I would accept being thumbprinted by any legal officer who was accusing or convicting me of any other crime. Hopefully--theoretically--thumbprints can't be duplicated on a whim...though there was GATTACA...drat.

We were discussing the War Powers today in government. Yes, I want Congress to have the power to declare war. Yes, I want the president to be able to carry out immediate militial action at a moment's notice, to enact whatever force necessary in event of an emergency. YES, I think the 60-90 day limit for such action needs to be enforced! Why has it never been enforced? Either declare war or get out. Don't dilly-dally.

I've discovered a humongous conflict I have with my own moral reasoning. I don't want our country to continue sending foreign aid when our own people are in need. However, many of the same people who agree with me are also anti-welfare, saying people need to help themselves. So, what do we need to do? Just not help anyone? Spread our resources thin and help everyone? I don't know...maybe put some more money into our Free Clinics. Put more money into the poor public schools that will be squeezing as many as 48 students in a classroom with one teacher, half as many textbooks as needed, and denying students access to classes simply because there's not enough students signed up to make 2 full classes of 45. It has been announced at our school that students need to do especially well on their STAR tests, because if 60 students are signed up for a class, the school WILL NOT be making 2 classes of 30. They'll be making one class of 45, and 15 students will not be allowed to take the class. The rule goes for AP classes as well. Yeah, the school's College level classes will have twice their desired amounts. I hope they don't have high expectations.

I'm so glad I'm going to a Private college next year. Sorry guys.

College Update

I've accepted BYU-I, and have put in my down-payment for Barnes Hall with my amazing friend Catherine!

The Results Are In

Hey faithful stalkers! In case you didn't catch the call or the facebook announcement...

I HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED TO BOTH BYU AND BYU-IDAHO!!!!!!!!!!!

As of yet, I am still undecided as to which I will be attending, but I'm definitely leaning toward Idaho.

Thanks to everyone for your patient waiting, as well as all your of your support, and for a few of you, your late-night essay input that proved invaluable.

I love you all, and I'll definitely let you all know when I make a final decision.

Love,

Katie Helen

P.S. Jen, while I do LOVE food...especially tantalizing cupcakes, I have managed my Mormon-wear through online ordering and a few cherished visits to you over the years. But it will be a struggle to turn down such sweet temptations! You're so awesome!! :) *hug*

PSH!!

Ok...so I still have yet to hear from BYU. I think the psychologists there are trying to condition me to NOT check for any updates, because I'm SERIOUSLY considering changing my daily checking pattern to an every-other-day checking pattern.
It's one of those blasted things I learned in school that warps the way I think about life.
The fastest way to train a dog is continuous positive reinforcement. (does trick, treat, does trick, treat, etc.) unfortunately, this is also the least reliable, because as soon as you stop 'treating' the dog, he loses all will to 'trick' and soon loses the habit.
The slowest way is to never reinforce, but that's just mean.
The most reliable way to train a dog is the same way casinos create addicts. It involves only rewarding good behavior at random intervals. As the dog won't know when the next reward will come, but knows it will follow good behavior, it'll keep up the 'trick', hoping against hope that MAYBE this will be the time it gets a 'treat'. (Gamboling equivalent: 'I know I've won before. It'll happen again. Just ONE more time. It'll be next time. What if it's next time?)
So there I sat, day after day, checking the www.besmart.com website, hoping that that day would be the day, because if I don't check EVERY day, who knows? It could come yesterday!!!

Excellent books I've read lately that I would recommend to anyone:
1. The Percy Jackson series (soon to be a movie)
2. Hawksong and Snakecharm +
3. The Mortal Instruments series (City of Bones, City of Ashes, City of Glass
4. The Vampire Diaries (as they were written more than a decade before Twilight, I refuse to be accused of falling to the Vampire fad...even if I have
5. The Hunger Games and Catching Fire
6. Uglies, Pretties, Specials, Extras
7. The Dark Visions series
8. Anything by Tamore Pierce

Update

By the way, I am pretty darn sure I'm going to Idaho (Still a teeny bit doubtful) but IF I do go to Idaho, I'll be on the Fall/Spring track.
Meaning I'll be at school from September -December, then April to July.
Not HUMONGOUSLY thrilled with the 14 week break between semesters, but it's what I've been given. So it's all right, right?


Love much,
Katie Helen

Drum Roll please...

Today, January 5, 2010, a very interesting thing occurred. Although I had been expecting something of the sort, it was still a shock when it came. AND it involves school. I know what you all are thinking: it came? she got the notice?
Yes, yes I did.
I have been saying the year wrong for the past decade. My councilor came into my senior English class today, and after scholarship information, informed us all that it is grammatically incorrect to say 'Two-thousand one', or 'Two thousand and one'. That was a mistake that stuck thanks to the novel, 2001. According to wherever said councilor gets her information, the correct way of saying this year, for example, is Twenty-ten. We should have been saying Twenty-oh-one, twenty-oh-two, etc. When you think about it, you didn't say, today is January fifth, one thousand five hundred twenty six. You said 15-26. It is therefore correct to say 20-10.

That's all.







Just Kidding!!!!!!!!!
The REAL news for today is that I received my first college acceptance, and to my priority college. As of today, assuming I don't get crazy senior-itis or something, I have been accepted to Brigham Young University-Idaho. We'll wait and see what Provo has to say, before I really accept anything.

Much love,
KT