The Shirt

Here's a picture of the very awesome t-shirt Paul got me for my birthday. The first image is a generic picture of the shirt (though mine is white, not olive).

Here's a picture of the poster the shirt is based on, so you can read the writing at the bottom more easily.

It took all my force of will not to wear it two days after my birthday when a delegation of visiting Chinese scholars was in class. So tempting, but must...not... cause...international...incidents...until...degree...in...hand.

Done with the School

Done with school, done with school, done with school, done with school, done with school, done with school, done with school, done with school, done!

(Well, until August anyway.)

No, We Are Not a Cancer Hospital

No, we are not a cancer hospital. Yes, we are sure. Yes, that is the number, but it is a private residence. PLEASE STOP CALLING AT 6:00 AM!

For reasons I do not understand, we are constantly getting calls (on our cell phone!) from elderly women looking for a cancer hospital. They usually call in the wee morning hours, but the two calls I fielded today were at least after 10 am. It's always elderly women, and it's always a cancer hospital. I think that is the only reason when Paul stumbles out of bed only an hour before the alarm goes off, trips over the Japanese books I pushed off the bed after studying, mutters what I suspect are choice words under his breath, and then answers with an uber-patient "I think you have the wrong number. No, that is this number, but it actually a private residence. Sorry about that." By now, unless I'm feeling particularly cranky, I just say, "Sorry, but this is a private residence. Don't feel bad, it happens all the time." (If I'm feeling particularly cranky, I say "You have the wrong number" and hang up. It's hard to hang up on little old ladies though.)

The worse part is I don't even know what number they should be calling. Because at this point, I'm ready to just hand it out to the elderly callers myself then call the hospital and tell them how sick I am of their 6 am wake up calls!

Oh, You Wacky Legislators!

Living in Utah, it was hard to imagine sillier/more time-wasting bills existed, but then I moved to Arizona. And holy cow, it's a whole new kind of crazy. The state is in the middle of a horrific budget crisis, with massive cuts to education, social services, and a slew of other departments. Perhaps you've hear about the many state parks that are being closed or the vast number of rest stops the state has already closed. (Side note: someone sent in a letter to the editor supporting the closures arguing it would force people to develop stronger bladder muscles. Sadly, it was not satire. Guess even bladders need to pull themselves up by the bootstraps.) In light of all this budget hemorrhaging, here are a smattering of bills the state legislature has taken up:

Bill 1024 aka "The Birther Bill"
This bill would require presidential candidates to submit proof to the state of Arizona that they met the conditions for presidential office holders in the federal Constitution (natural-born citizens over 35). Aside from not being the purview of the state, the fact that it was spawned by a person who doesn't think Obama is natural-born citizen alone makes it cringe-worthy. I swear, I think some people would only be convinced if they had a time machine and watched every moment of the man's life beginning at birth. Of course, I also don't see what makes Kenya such a terrifying place, but YMMV. The bill passed the House and is awaiting a Senate vote.

Bill 1104 aka "The We Don't Need No Stinkin' Permits Bill"
This bill (since signed into law) repealed previous legislation that required training and a permit to carry a concealed weapon. Now any US citizen age 21 or older may carry a concealed weapon virtually anywhere. (Exceptions include federal buildings, airports, and private property where the owner has explicitly forbidden concealed weapons.) Needless to say, the police and responsible gun enthusiasts are not pleased. (The paper published this gem from a life-long NRA member and current concealed weapons permit holder: "The problem is that everyone thinks they know how to use a gun.") This comes on the heels of legislation permitting guns in places where liquor is served unless a sign of certain size forbidding it is displayed at the entrance--it's really weird to walk into P.F. Chang's and see "No Guns Permitted" hanging above the bar--and exempting guns manufactured and sold in the state from federal regulation including registration. I don't even begin to see the logic in that. Which brings us to the granddaddy of bad Arizona legislation:

Bill 1070 aka "The Illegal Immigration Bill"
I don't think I need to tell you much about this bill given the media coverage it's received, other than it requires immigrants/legal residents to produce documentation when asked by police. Police may make such a request if they have "reasonable suspicion" that a person may be in the country illegally. I shouldn't have to tell you how bad that looks. (No pun intended). Recently signed into law, it is certain to be challenged in court by a number of groups including the US government (immigration is a federal right). I feel sorry for any cop out there--either ask every single person you interact with or risk being sued for racial profiling. I don't think there are many people who don't think our immigration system needs a massive overhaul, but this isn't the answer. What really galls me about this particular bill (besides that it's very much based on racial prejudice) is that the legislature passed the bill knowing full well that it was going to be tied up in courts for years at a SIGNIFICANT cost to the taxpayers. The state is so broke that it had to sell and then lease back most of the government buildings, scrapped its state healthcare programs (putting it at risk for losing all government funding for Medicaid and Medicare), and had to have a judge issue a two-year stay on an order mandating treatment for the mentally ill in the state's care, and raise taxes. And after all that, the legislature still thinks fighting for a bill which will certainly not pass judicial muster is a good use of its limited funds. Garrrr!

Birthday Wishes

I'd like to thank all of you for your fine birthday wishes. I had a bit of a rough morning (eventually I'll write about that--it's part of an ongoing saga), but by afternoon things were peachy. I met Paul for lunch, which I had only done once before, and enjoyed a surprisingly tasty and unstomach-offending Brazilian flatbread pizza slice. It was nice to see Paul for lunch--he always seems so happy to see me! Anything to break up the workday, I guess. I made all my Chinese class, was "strongly encouraged" to come to a meet-and-greet for visiting Chinese scholars on Thursday, and came home to whisked away to a local steakhouse for a delicious prime rib dinner. Then I had to come back home and study for a Japanese test, which was a bummer but at least I was able to take the time to go out to a nice dinner.

Post #213: In Which Jennifer Gets Religion

I imagine this blog post catches most--if not all--of you by surprise. "What?" You're saying. "That blog's still active?!!" Your second thought is probably something along the line of "Jennifer gets religion? Huh? Did she not before?" or "Jennifer and religion? This is new." Either way, I figured I've confused every one of my (few) readers by the title alone. And thus my ridiculously circuitous plan is one-fourth complete!

Seriously, though, I don't talk much about religion much. I've always considered it to be a rather private and personal matter. Those of you who have seen my Facebook profile may have been tipped off to this by my religious beliefs being listed as "Fiercely Private." And as such, I am a horrible missionary. I do not keep Books of Mormon stashed about to hand out, I do not pray to have missionary experiences, and I do not engage others in conversations about their religious beliefs. I have always had the mindset that if someone wants to discuss it, they can come to me.

And thus I was approached about two weeks ago by a Chinese girl. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. She said she was very interested in my religion. I was floored. Based on our short conversation, I couldn't tell if she meant interested in a religious way or interested in a just curious way. We agree to meet in two days to discuss whatever she wanted to know. So two days later, I found myself trying to explain the whole "Apostasy and Restoration" thing, plus basic Christianity, how the Angel Moroni is on the top of temples (not our God), the Protestant Reformation, and the concept of the light of Christ.

It turned out she was interested in a religious way! Throughout the conversation it seemed like she was looking for two things. First, that she could receive help from divine beings. Second, that she could find something that explained how to live life. She was Buddhist, so I think that was why she was interested in those things--they're some of the few things Christianity and Buddhism have in common so they were more easily relatable.

I haven't talked to her much since then--I found the Chinese equivalent of Mormon.org and directed her there to learn more. I also located a Book of Mormon in simplified Chinese and some pamphlets that cover the first three missionary discussions, which I need to actually get from said missionaries.

I don't know if she's still interested or even if I did a good job of answering her questions. I am comforted knowing that if she really is interested in the Church, the Lord will send someone else to help her along the way. She also seemed to understand the light of Christ idea and that makes me happy. I had a religion teacher once say that it was his personal belief that eventually all people sincerely searching for God and happiness would find them. I think that makes sense with how I believe God operates. I hope she finds what she's looking for.

And that's how Jennifer got religion.

Christmas 2009, Part 2: Actually Christmas 2009

When last I left off, we were about to leave for Utah. Driving back was a bit long, but not too bad as virtually all of the trip was on I-15. There were some pretty strong winds along the California-Nevada border, but we all made it through. Nick rode in the backseat, which was nice of him. Paul's dad also briefly drove the car which gave Paul and I no more than 4 hrs blocks of driving and was also very nice. Paul drove right through Vegas, which was very stressful for him but went off perfectly. I know he hates to drive--especially on freeways--but it just isn't feasible for me to drive such a long distance by myself. We learned that driving on unlit highways is scary, that it is apparently entirely reasonable to drive 70 miles in the snow until someone slides off the road (not us, thankfully), and that people in Utah will drive 90 mph with no space between cars even in the most rural of environments. I really don't understand this one. There's like five cars on the highway, why must we all be crowded together? We got in pretty late on the 23rd, so we pretty much just crashed. On the 24th we did last minute shopping and wrapping in the afternoon, then headed over to my parents' for a tasty dinner and unwrapping of presents. Then we returned to Paul's house for another dinner and various Christmas traditions, including reading "When the Red Ranger Came Calling," which is horrifically sad for a children's book and has no reason being read ever, much less Christmas. I secretly think Paul's dad forces us to read it every year just to see us cry (or at least me). After that, we all went to bed. In the morning, we opened presents with Paul's family. There was much rejoicing in books and CDs and DVDs and clothing and so on. In the afternoon, we went back to my parents' to eat Christmas dinner and see what my siblings had gotten from Santa. There was a fair amount of Rock Banding. Eventually, Paul and I returned to his parents' house and crashed again. You may note there is a lot of crashing going on. This is because multiple holiday excursions and visits and celebrations are very tiring.