Boyfriends - Nick's Necklace

Nick bought me a necklace when we were in St. George over Valentines Day. It was the outline of a heart, with a cubic zirconium dangling in the center. I wore it every day. Then one day, the dangling section just disappeared. Nick was kind of mad at me, as if I had lost it on purpose. I still wore the heart, but it really bugged him that part of it was missing.

So when I went off to college at Utah State, Nick gave me a replacement necklace. Another heart, this time a locket. Despite my best efforts, I would often forget to take it off at night. For awhile it got lost in the sheets of my bed, and I felt horrible. I knew how much it meant to Nick that I wore his necklace. He wasn't super understanding when I told him I'd lost it. (My forgetfulness/irresponsibility is probably something he'd never have gotten used to about me.) 

I was so thrilled when I finally found the necklace, and of course, I resumed wearing it every day. Thus, I was wearing it on January 28th when my roommate's boyfriend and his friend came over to hang out at our apartment.

The friend (maybe named Cody - yeah, let's go with that) and I hit it off. We quickly established a rhythm of playful banter, and being the attention-lover I am, I definitely encouraged him. We all went ice-blocking down a hill on campus, and then we wrested a bit. Cody, a football player, pinned me to the ground, and I had one of my famous freak-outs. That led to more serious conversation, and Cody and I ended up talking in the living room of my apartment well into the night.

It wasn't until the next morning that I realized my necklace had broken sometime during the night, presumably when I'd been wrestling with Cody.

I drove home the next day so I could be home for the weekend. I wanted to talk to Nick and sort through my feelings about flirting with Cody, and somehow that discussion ended up in us breaking up. I never told him about the broken necklace, but I've always kind of seen it as a kind of a symbol of our bond breaking. Maybe even as a symbol of our whole relationship: me trying to hold on to something and to be something that just wasn't right for me.

In Trouble - Running Away

I went through a phase where, when I knew I would be in trouble because of the poor choices I had made, I would just run away.  I can remember three times I chose to run away.


During 6th grade, my family lived in a tiny rental house while my parents built their home in Draper. This was an emotionally difficult year for my family, since it was right on the heels of losing my baby brother John, who was stillborn.  I made some pretty dumb choices, which sure didn't help. For example, at Christmas I talked my sisters into carefully unwrapping our presents and peaking at them, and I told Lisa there was no Santa Claus. 

The following summer, my mom was teaching summer school, and while she was gone I was in charge of making sure the chores, piano practicing, etc. got done. They usually didn't, and I usually got in trouble.

After one particular fight with my mom. I decided my family would be better off without me, and I took off. I walked to the Stake Center and sat on the stairs and cried. I was really angry, but I also realized that I really didn't do as much as I could to help my mom. I wanted to punish myself, so I decided I should try walking to school to see what it would be like if I didn't have my mom to drive me. My family lived on 5400 South and 4000 West, and school was in Sandy. I knew the way, and I managed to walk all the way to the 2-15 entrance at Redwood Road, and I even walked a pretty decent distance along the side of 2-15. But apparently people aren't allowed to walk along the freeway - good to know - and I got picked up by the cops. They called my parents, who were pretty mortified to have to come to the police station to get me.

Both of the other times I ran away were because I didn't want to tell my parents about my less-than-perfect report cards.  I don't remember which came first. On one pre-planned occasion, I gathered all the money I could find in our house, wrote a note for my mom, and decided I was going to live at South Towne mall. But by accident, I left the note in the van of my carpool who called my mom who found me before I'd even been at the mall for a half hour. She demanded to know the real reason I had run away, and I was forced to give her the report card I'd been withholding.  The other time, I ran away to across the street, where there was an old barn. I went in there and decided that's where I would stay. But it was disgusting, and there was really old pornography all over the place, and it really freaked me out. Sadly, those images that will never leave my head. I don't remember my parents finding me this time, so I'm guessing I just gave up and went home.

School - 7th Grade

When I left Challenger after 6th grade, I had to decide where to go from there. My choices were Crescent View (where the kids in my ward went) or Midvale, where they had the ALPS program. Being raised to value education and not really having friends in the ward anyway, I chose Midvale.

I easily tested into the ALPS program, and I vaguely remember some of my classes. My day started with some form of a literature class. I loved the teacher, but the class had only 11 kids in it, 10 of whom had gone to school together their entire lives. I was an outcast. Even though I was asked to be in special programs and on teams - the point of which I really can't remember - I was never really accepted.

My next class was English, where I hated my teacher. He often made inaccurate statements about grammar, and I would stay after class to correct him. I felt superior to him and consequently felt I had nothing to prove. I wrote the assigned research paper, but decided to not turn it in. I failed the final quarter of English.

I'm sure I had a math class. I have blocked out so much of 7th grade from my memory that I don't have a single distinct memory of a teacher, classroom, or classmate. Nor can I conjure a memory of the lunchroom. I do recall walking through the halls, completely alone, with my nose in a book.

Choir was okay. By 7th grade, I was already a pretty good accompanist, and I do remember being one of my choir director's favorites. I think I even got to sing a solo on one song. But I don't remember a single student from the class.


I'm betting I took science and history, too. I think I maybe remember the history teacher. He used to read to us from the Reader's Digest, because we had class right after lunch, and he thought people should have a story after lunch. He would read us the "Real Life Heroes" stories, and that is when I got hooked on the Reader's Digest, still my favorite magazine.

I vaguely remember hanging out with some guy. Maybe his name was Gavin. I think he was the closest thing I had to a friend.

I went from being Student Body President at Challenger to being completely lost in a school where I had no one. It's a time in my life I don't talk about, mostly just because I don't remember it.

In Trouble - Telephone

When I was eleven, my parents purchased land in Draper, Utah, and began building their dream home.  They had always wanted to live in a log home on a large lot where they could be surrounded my their land instead of their neighbors.  We moved in during the spring of my 6th grade year, timing my parents had chosen so I would turn twelve (and enter Young Women's) in our new ward.

Our new home had three stories - a main level, an upstairs, and a walk-out basement.  From the west, all three stories are above ground, making the house look unbelievably tall.  In the process of building our home, the builders had allowed some of the 2nd floor ceiling beams to extend beyond the outer walls of the house, attaching a horizontal plank and creating a sort of landing or tiny deck on the exterior wall.  This landing extended from just below one third-story window to the other.  I'm not certain why the builders didn't remove this anomaly as they finished the house, but the makeshift landing still remains.

When we moved in, the girls became the occupants of those two third-story bedrooms.  The smaller bedroom was mine, while Lisa and Michelle shared the larger bedroom.  We had an adjoining wall, and our doors were only steps from each other.  One would think this would have allowed ample means of communication, but one summer we decided we needed one of those string-and-styrofoam telephones.

For a short while, the string running out my bedroom door, down the hall, and into Lisa and Michelle's room was sufficient.  But then the idea struck.  What if we could string our telephone from window to window?  That would be a truly novel means of communication!  Out my third story window I went, telephone cup in hand.  I walked carefully along the plank, one hand supporting myself against the house.  Back in Lisa and Michelle's window, and my task was done.

Then the real telephone rang, and I was summoned downstairs to explain to my mom why she'd just gotten a phone call from Sister So-and-So wanting to know why her daughter was playing tightrope-walker.  I gave my explanation, along with my insistence that I was never in any actual danger, and after what I remember as a half-hearted talking to, I was dismissed.

I think by that point in my life, my mom was used to my "creativity," and she knew I wasn't necessarily a risk taker.  Still, I think of our telephone each time I see the improvised landing.

Injuries - Knee

At Challenger School, there was no such thing as hot lunch.  The exception was that on Friday's, you could pay for a slice of delivered pizza.  One Friday in 8th grade, as we were waiting for the pizza to get there, my best friend Amalie Wickes and I were taking turns playing the piano.  Another classmate, Erica, and I stood on the ledge on the back of the piano and looked over at the keys as Amalie played.  Erica started to use her weight to rock the piano back and forth.  Amalie and I both told her to stop, but she didn't.  As the piano's weight swung too far to the back, the piano started to fall.  Erica got out of the way, running clear across the room before the piano landed.

My dad says I lack self preservation skills.  Other people naturally put their hands in front of their face when they fall.  I don't have this instinct.  Other people run when a piano is falling.  

I apparently try to save the piano.

Of course, I did not stop the piano from falling.  However, my right knee cushioned its landing, as my leg was pinned in a bent position under the piano.  

I don't remember the piano being lifted off me, but certainly it was.  Someone went and got the principal, Mrs. Lewis, who was also my Aunt Enid.  And Enid went down to the very end of the hall to get my mom, the 6th grade teacher.  "Jackie, grab your purse," she said.  My mom, always calm and rational, wanted to know why.  "I'll explain on the way," Enid said.  

My mom arrived in the lunchroom and took over.  She called an ambulance, then had someone call my dad, who currently held the position of Maintenance Supervisor at Challenger School.  Having gone into shock, I told my friends, "Make sure when my dad gets here that you tell him the pencil sharpener in our classroom is broken."

The paramedics arrived and began to assess my swollen leg.  They had to cut my uniform pants, starting at the ankle and cutting up past the knee.  The area around my knee looked like a balloon had been inserted then blown up until my knee started mid-calf and extended to mid-thigh.  They braced my leg and loaded me into the ambulance, and I was taken to the nearest FHP hospital.

At the time FHP was one of Utah's prominent insurance companies, well known for being disliked by its patients.  This experience did nothing to change that reputation.

I remember clearly being in the hospital bed and hearing the doctors and nurses at the front desk making fun of the girl who had a piano fall on her.  I also remember being required to get myself from my bed-on-wheels up to the x-ray table, where the x-ray tech asked me to move my leg to a variety of positions.  I couldn't move the leg in a normal fashion; I had to reach down, grab my toes, and drag my leg to each required angle.

Amazingly, I had no broken bones!  I was sent home with a brace, crutches, and pain meds.  I was on the crutches for 1 week and in the brace for 2, and then I was pretty much recovered.  After seeing an orthopedic specialist, I discovered I had a torn ligament in the back of my knee that would likely never recover.  It still bothers me when I dance extensively or play soccer.

I survived the ordeal with an excellent "tell something unique about yourself" story to tell.  "I once had a piano fall on my leg..."

Favorite Subjects - Math

In elementary, one of my favorite school subjects was math.  Each year, my school had a math contest, similar to a spelling bee.  The contest started with a written test, and the top-scoring students advanced to the oral competition.  Each participant stood behind a table with a bell in front of him or her, and when a question was asked, he or she would ring their bell.  The first student to ring the bell would be given the opportunity to correctly answer the question.  During the initial rounds, the students who scored the most points would advance to the next round.  During the final phase, wrong answers resulted in elimination.  I have many fond memories of this contest.

After the Kindergarten math contest, I went into my mom's classroom.  She was really excited to see I'd placed in the contest.  "I'm sorry, Mom," I began sadly.  "I only got 1st place.  Next year I will do better."  I thought since 3rd was a higher number, that would have been the ultimate prize.

In 4th grade, a rival student who was excellent at math thought for sure this would be the year to beat me.  When he took 2nd (again), he said, "I can't believe I got beat by a girl!"

It was during the 5th grade math contest that I realized I needed glasses.  A few of the oral questions reference equations written on a chalkboard at the opposite end of the room.  I couldn't read those questions and missed every one.  My mom, who was my 5th grade teacher and knew I knew the answers, thought correctly that I just couldn't see, and I returned in 6th grade sporting glasses.

Another memorable math moment was learning reciprocals in 4th grade.  My teacher, Mr. Gagnier, always used a physical demonstration to teach the concept, and since I was the smallest kid in class, I was the one who got flipped upside down.

My love of math continued through junior high and high school but stopped abruptly when I took Calculus AB during my junior year.  Suddenly, math lost it's practical application, and I lost my interest.  But I'm still happy to solve algebraic equations any day!

Choices - Rated R Movie

My parents taught me by their words and by their examples that watching Rated R movies was not something Heavenly Father wanted me to do.  Because I spent most of my time with my family, this was an easy value to live up to.  Once I became a teenager, though, I had an opportunity to prove this was something I believed for myself, not just something my parents had chosen for me.

After a hard seventh grade year at Midvale Middle school, I decided to go back to Challenger School for eighth grade.  Since there wasn't actually an eighth grade, I was in a class of seventh grade students.  These were not the kids I had gone through elementary with, and I always struggling to feel like I fit in.

At the end of the school year, I was invited to a party with the whole class.  We went swimming at the birthday boy's house, then we were invited inside to watch a movie.

I hadn't heard of the movie, so I asked what it was rated.  When I found out it was Rated R, there was no hesitation or question of what I would do.  I waited outside by the pool for the duration of the movie.  The only other person outside was the boy's dad.

I did not gain respect or admiration for my choice, but I wasn't made fun of either.  What I did gain was a stronger conviction of my own values and the knowledge that when faced with a difficult decision, I did know how to choose the right.