(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
At work, at work…
Working in admissions for a church school means sometimes seeing ridiculous stuff like reading a letter of recommendation that start with: “Dear Saints in Zion”. Or the people that think they can pull weight because their dad is a stake president or something. Oh, ridiculousness.
I made a cake last night. It really was an excuse to try to perfect my frosting recipe. And it was yet another frosting failure. Next time, though…I’m thinking I’ll not put any milk or water in it at all, and just let the moisture come from the fruit. Because it always ends up too runny and then I end up trying to compensate by putting in more and more powdered sugar and then I end up with three times more frosting than I need and it also ends up with only the faintest taste of the cream cheese and fruit…but I’m working on it.
Every page of the application for BYU has a spot on it for a social security number except for the second page of the “high school information”. So we have to copy the number at the top of the second page of every one when getting the papers ready to image. Apparently it’s been like that for years, but really, you’d think that sometime someone would realize this and just put a spot for the number on there. It wouldn’t be that hard to fix, I’m sure. I wonder who you’d talk to about changing it. Probably nobody knows, or else it would’ve been fixed.
The word “damn” is not allowed on BYU campus unless you’re in a religion class or it is followed with the word “Utes”. It’s in the honor code.
My window-mate, Blake, is on a cruise this week, so it’s lonely up here. And I came here excited to talk to him about the Oscars. I’m sure he’s surprised (along with everyone else) that Brokeback didn’t get Best Picture and he’s sorry he didn’t actually make a bet with Joe about Reese Witherspoon winning. And he would ask me who I thought was the best and worst dressed on the red carpet. But instead, I’m here singing Hotel California quietly to myself because it’s far too silent.
I’m pleased to announce that Timothy has learned to play and to love the game of nickels. Now Emilee and I don’t have to spend hours trying to find someone to play with us and then still not have anyone and so we watch TV and pine away for last year. Ah, playing nickels with Allison Ellsworth…good times.
My absolute favorite thing that we do at work is going through unknown papers and trying to figure out whose file they belong in. It’s a bunch of detective work. We’ll read the letter regarding “Scott Johnson” and then go through the records of the 66 Scott Johnson’s that have ever applied to BYU to figure out which one the letter goes with. It’s really quite fun. The less material you have to work with, the better, because you have to do more intuitive work. Like most letters will include that someone is “hard-working” and all sorts of other completely useless information. But then we’ll get a little point to work off of: it’ll mention that he moved to another state when he was sixteen. And then we can go into the records and find the one guy out of the five you’ve whittled it down to that attended more than one high school. And then we’re still not quite positive, but you read his student essay and it talks about his eagle project and it matches the eagle project that is mentioned in the letter, and you’re good to go. It’s so fun. Sometimes Blake and I will race on a hard one, and I have to tell you, I always win.
The girl who just came to the window was named, and I kid you not, Sunny Rainbows Kim. You always wonder what kind of parents that sort of names come from.
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