Farewell, My Friend

By Rory
Throughout my life I have had friends come and go, and all of them have touched my life in some way. Each one has filled a void that had not been filled before, nor been filled in the same way after. Yet about a week ago I lost a friend that filled a void so huge, it can never be replaced. The size of that void is 22,700. The BYU Marriott Center has done/been every single thing that I could ever ask for in a friend. We first met in 2004, and while I was excited to be friends, there were many difficult times. In fact only 6 out of the 14 times we hung out that first year of frienship did we end the night happy with each other. Yet, this friendship persisted and I was rewarded with countless nights ending with everyone singing "Celebrate". The Marriott Center and I were best friends.

Before I go on, I want to explain to you why this friendship means so much to me. All my life I have loved sports, both watching them and playing them. On the rare occasion that my family and I went to games, I always wanted to cheer, stand up, shout and yell. But our seats were in the old people's sections and I felt out of place. I watched with envy as the students cheered, screamed and yelled, hoping one day that I too could cheer on my team. That opportunity was given to me at the Marriott Center. I got to do all that I wanted to encourage my team, and not only was it not strange, it was accepted and encouraged. My lifelong dream was realized. The Marriott Center allowed me to finally express myself in ways that I had never been able to before.

Now some of you might be saying, Rory, you're ridiculous; or Rory, get a life. But let me ask you something: what makes a good friend? Did we spend time together? Yes. More than many outsiders think might have been healthy. Did we party together? Yes. Twice we won the MWC and got to watch Lee Cummard and others cut down the nets. Did we have sleepovers? Yes. How many people can say that they have had sleepovers with friends other than roommates since high school? The Marriott Center and I have. It is for that reason that I shed tears as I left the Marriott Center after the New Mexico heartbreaker. I had said goodbye to my friend for the last time as a student, and though we might be reunited in the future, I will have changed, the familiar faces we hung out with will be long gone, and all that we will have left in common will be the memories we shared together.

Fat Guy in a Little Coat

Yes, I just quoted one of the most idiotic movies known to mankind: Tommy Boy. Somehow I manage to watch this movie in the wee hours of the morning every time I go home and visit my family. And for someone reason at 3:00 a.m. I find it absolutely hilarious. But that is beside the point. The point is for the last four months I have been the fat guy in the little coat. I have a peacoat from high school which is a bit too small. When I'm wearing it, it looks fine, but if you take a look at the lining inside my coat it is a disaster of ripped seams repaired by me, the girl who doesn't know how to sew, with frantic whip stitches. Everytime I put on the coat before leaving the house I would find myself humming the tune of fat guy in a little coat, fat guy in a little coooaat. It was great for my self-esteem. Thankfully, I found a new coat on clearance this weekend and will no longer refer to myself as a fat guy in a little coat. To commemorate the special times we had together and the way that coat warmed my soul, I would like to play a tribute:

Pleasant Grove?

Pleasant Grove always seemed like a nice enough place. After all, it is called the City of Trees and it is P.G. that hosts the quaint Strawberry Festival every year. I've actually been meaning to go there for some time to visit Patina's and get a pink donut from Daylight's, but that becomes less appetizing as the days pass. You see on my forty five minute drive to school, I pass through P.G. At first my thoughts were, I need to go check that place out! There is nothing I love more than finding the hidden treasures in a small town. Just ask Rory about my love for Kearny, Nebraska. I adore it. Well, after a week of driving by P.G., planning my weekend visit, I noticed a terrible stench. An overpowering, putrid stench that has remained in P.G. for at least two weeks now. It's as if a sewage pipe exploded, but nobody noticed. So I took the liberty to write the P.G. Chamber of Commerce a little note. It went like this.

To whom it may concern:
I have been interested in paying a visit to your town for some town. However, the town seems to be suffering from some sort of sewage problem. It makes Pleasant Grove seem very unpleasant. Will this situation be remedied in the near future?

Cordially,
Lauren

Until I get a letter of response I will be wearing a clothespin on my nose and buying a brand new air freshener.

Student Teaching

I'm doing my student teaching at Timberline Middle School and am really excited for the semester. To give you an idea of what it's like to teach middle schoolers, I'll tell you a bit about my first day.

Day One: After introducing myself to the class, my mentor had them ask me questions in Spanish. I was asked the following questions:
Do you want to go on a date?
Do you drink alcohol?
Do you smoke illegal drugs?
Do you have feet?
Do you eat?

I can tell this semesters going to be great one. lol.

Family History

This summer we decided to start learning a bit more about our family history, specifically my Dad's family since the majority of my Mom's and his parents are done. My Dad is a convert so that involved starting with square one. My Dad is 100% Irish, which is something I really identify with. I love our Saint Patrick's Day traditions, corned beef, and spent a fair amount of my childhood doing the jig. I even own a copy of Far and Away, Riverdance, and The Secret of Roan Inish. I'm pretty sure that right there proves I'm hardcore Irish. Anyways, despite my love of everything Irish, I am a bit irked at my ancestors. For some reason unbeknownst to me, they decided to all be named the exact same thing. Every single one of my realtives are named Daniel, Thomas, Catherine or Mary. Not even kidding. Except for Mabel Mackey, which is such an original (and awesome) name that it was a pleasure to research her. She's the only Mabel Mackey. Ever. To make matters even more complicated, everyone with the last name McGrath lived in the same town in Ireland. And to further complicate things, they all moved to Chicago. So after researching all 57 Daniel Rooneys we completed a five generation pedigree chart. In order to continue we will be setting sail for Ireland in 9.5 years. It's going to be awesome.

Tina's Wedding

La tía de Rory se casó con un hombre de Puerto Rico que se llama Pedro y por eso estoy escribiendo en español. Era un día bellísimo y ellos eran una pareja muy linda. Ellos se casaron en el templo de Bountiful y el abuelo de Rory fue su sellador. También fue nuestro sellador. Era la primera vez que fui a un sellamiento que no era mía, y fue una experiencia muy bella. El espíritu era muy fuerte y el cuarto era lleno de amor.

Fall semester 2009 consisted of about two things:

1. STUDYING LIKE CRAZY

Married life is wonderful. It's actually the best thing ever. The only time it's not the best is when your husband has to work until 9:00 at night, because than you actually have to study. No matter how hard I tried to get distracted from the hours of homework that lay ahead of me, it is impossible when sitting in a ten by ten foot apartment by yourself. Usually Rory came home and I cried out exasperated, "Why didn't you answer your phone?" and he would find approximately ten text messages and three missed calls. Pathetic, I am so aware. Then I would distract him from his homework for the next few hours until he would say, "Maybe we should start studying in the library," which always got me right to work because the only thing worse than studying in a ten by ten foot apartment by yourself is studying in the library.

2. SLEEPING

Most married couples think staying up past 10:30 is absurd. We, however, count ourselves among the young whippersnappers and often find ourselves falling asleep at the unearthly time of 12:45. I would not advise this because it leads to falling asleep in the most awkward places, and missing all of your 8:00 classes. Just ask Rory.

Unfortunately blogging was not numbered among our daily, weekly or monthly activities; but, for all my faithful followers- er, followerer- aka mom, i'll give a little synopsis of the happenings of fall semester 2009. Can I just say thank goodness it's over?