'you rang?'

When i was younger i always thought that it would be cool to resemble a celebrity. You know, have people mistake you for that awesome person, try and get free swag, etc. But then i decided that i didn't want this when i realized that the only 'celebrity' that i resembled was Zoey from the PBS show Zoom. My niece and nephew thought it was cool and would talk about it but it wasn't cool to really anyone else, me included.

I thought that was bad enough, then my sister pointed out an ever worse look alike.

I call my sister jenny like every other day, or like twice in one day if you are referencing yesterday... Lately whenever she answers, or leaves a voice message, she says 'You rang?' in this super nerdy/nasally/little boy voice. I couldn't figure out why she did this, i assumed it was just another random phase like when she talks like a duck or something weird. I finally asked her what the deal was and she goes, 'don't you remember watching Little Giants? That picture on your blog of you in my West uniform looks just like the nerdy kid who says that in the movie...'

Crap. It is true, i looked just like the scrawny boy that is only remembered for blowing the biggest snot bubbles ever. 

Maybe now is a bad time to mention that this one time, mallory and i were so bored at my uncles house that we would blow our nose as hard as we could and then run to the mirror to see who's snot was farthest down their face. Oh the things we do to entertain ourselves as children.

the mommy closet

I have a confession.

I can't wait until i have kids.

This may come as a surprise to some, i generally like to stay in the mommy closet and don't admit that i want to have a litter of those snotty nose creatures crawling all over me like a jungle gym one day. But, just because i say i want kids, don't get this confused with being 'baby hungry' which implies to the hopes to be impregnated in the near future.

best nanny ever, can't you tell?

In high school i thought that one day i would have maybe two kids, and not for a very, very, verrrry long time. This was probably due to the fact that at seventeen i gave up the normal ruckus that comes with being a high school student to become a single mother of three at times. I was a live-in nanny for my older sister, though i didn't have her kids 24/7, i did have entire weekends, and the occasional week, where the kids were all mine. Those things that most women get accustomed to once they birth a child, you know, the gross stuff, i am already too familiar with. I have cleaned up my share of peed on carpets, blown out diapers, and the occasional-worst fear-liquid pooh that drips down your own leg because you made the fatal mistake of trying to carry the poor sick child to the bathroom. You know you have cleaned up too many messes when your favorite pastime becomes washing and folding laundry, it smells fantastic and doesn't whine or yell. The laundry room became my sanctuary.

It took me a few years after this to realize that yes, i do want my own kids. Not that i didn't love my niece and nephews, i did and still do for that matter. There is just something different when you realize that one day you will have your own kids that will be part crazy just like you.

Three and Five from Bethany Davis on Vimeo.

I am pretty sure that part of my recent fascination with offspring is due to this video that i recently shot and edited. I am in a beginning film class and was supposed to make a video with a story. As i was getting ready to travel to the east coast i decided that i might as well shoot some of the most adorable kids that i know in hopes that i could get something that could become a short film. I followed Simon and Ada around for a day and let them do what they do best, be kids. When i went to class yesterday my professor asked me why i created the video, my response was about how i wanted to create a 'home video' of sorts that i wished i had. My goal was to capture an average day instead of the generic holiday program or birthday party.

It's the normal days like this, caught on film, that make me want kids. I am excited to be able to mold little minds and play all sorts of random make believe games that I don't understand. I am ready to get away with: cutting the crust off sandwiches, tickle baby backs, have an excuse to buy the amazingly scented Johnson's Baby shampoo-that i may or may not use myself, coach soccer-teach that you can simply step on the other side of the ball instead of taking the entire field's width to go the other direction, watch Arthur on PBS, induct a children's section into my library, eat M&Ms out of measuring cups, and basically just be awesome.

my newborn photo, or  'i look like benjamin button' photo or  'lobster claw baby' photo.

One day i will be that crazy lady down the street that builds forts in her front room with her kids so intense, that she has to crawl through the tunnel of sheets just to open the front door. Until then, i will just keep winning the hearts of my many nieces and nephews as their favorite Aunt Bethy.

Let's just hope that i marry a super attractive fellow so my kids can take after him as a wee babe...

Maybe in the meantime i will also start writing a series of children's books. Have you seen some of them lately? Seriously, they suck. I could do this. I WILL do this. Jenny Kimball, get ready to become by business partner.

damn you, hitchcock

Recently one of my friends was surprised to hear that i am not afraid of living alone.  Honestly, it isn't that bad, i live in a safe area and have neighbors all of ten feet from me so i never feel too uncomfortable, that is-until i have to shower.

Showering in an empty house has always given me the heebeegeebees. There is something so unsettling about being in a house and then in a bathroom and then in a shower behind the curtain. So many spaces within a space, it is like being the littlest nesting doll-then to top it off you are being pelted by water. Horrible.

I have however found a solution to my showering woes. And no, it is not showering less (we all know that is virtually impossible...). I, being the cheap housewares connoisseur that i am, only purchased the clear inside shower curtain. Since my bathroom is so small and doesn't have a vent, i have to shower with the door open. Now with the clear curtain i can see 25% of my apartment while showering. Problem solved, i have now migrated from a nesting doll-stuck in a dark cramped space, to a baby kangaroo-only partially in the pouch.



I am pretty sure that my fear of showers came from my childhood obsession with $0.49 classic movie rentals at Hastings. Everyday during the summer i would ride my bike to Hastings and pick out a new movie. I am pretty sure i have seen every Audrey Hepburn, Gary Grant, Fred Astaire, Doris Day, Jimmy Stewart and Alfred Hitchcock film Hastings carried. I adored all of them, probably too much for a 10 year old born in the 80's and not the 40's... all that is, but Psycho. Even though i had watched a behind the scenes on Hitchcock and knew that the blood in the infamous shower scene was chocolate syrup, i never got over the creepiness of a man dressed in women's clothes repeated stabbing a poor transient embezzler.


Yep, Psycho has to be to blame for this. Before i got super into classic movies i used to shower in the dark because we had super fun glow in the dark wallpaper. Nothing like showing with glowing kids doing cartwheels surrounding you... (the wallpaper however in sighted the need in me to do acrobatics in the shower. I am more than slightly surprised that i never broke my arm jumping between the two built in seats in the shower...)

letters, love, and high school romance

I get a little frustrated when people attack Valentine's Day. So what you aren't dating anyone, what percentage of mankind is on this one certain day anyway? Just because you aren't raptured by another doesn't mean that you can't have a stellar day. I LOVE Valentine's Day, basically i love any day that involves sending letters/cards/love notes/and has a specially shaped Reese's.

letters from all my 'missionaries'

Basically since forever, i have been saving every letter or note that i received. I am getting quite the collection (this also means that i attend way too many weddings/bridal showers/baby showers and therefore get copious amounts of thank you cards... which by the way, means i had better get a heck of a lot of people at all of those events for me.) Yesterday i went through the basket of letters and read a few, finding among some generic greetings, a few dazzling treasures.

letters from just one certain missionary

I have always had a love for letters. When my siblings were in college i would write them fairly often, and no, my spelling hasn't really improved since then. Even as s child i knew that letters have an aesthetic presence that can't be beat, i love a simple envelope sealed with wax. This is probably why i was so good at writing missionaries, i loved the visual final of the letters. One time i was writing around twenty different boys that were on missions. I didn't write them all a ton, some only got a few letters over the years but the lucky few got more than a handful. Because of this i was also graced with a number of letters.  It was hilarious going back through them, especially the Valentine's Day cards pretending to be in love with me (i think they just wanted more letters...) -side note, i went to one mission reunion with a friend and someone referenced me as the girl with the cool envelopes and wax seals, i guess my letters made it around the office...

Then there were the letters from my family. Sarah gets the award for the most creative addressing ever. Too bad i can't seem to find her Valentines, those were works of art. Any letter that is addressed to Aunt Barfy/Bethany also holds a special place in my heart, espcially when the envelopes only contain crayon drawings of ducks that look like the Pigeon books. 

There are also love notes from church. In the last couple of wards i have been in people can write notes to each other and have them delivered after church. My most favorite would be the three poems that i received from three different boys about my yellow high heels (i don't blame them, they are the most amazing shoes-quite possibly ever).

But still my most prized letter that i have is one written on Valentine's Day in 2005. In january of that year i broke up with my high school boyfriend. A few weeks later he slipped this into my hand.  We hadn't really talked since the break up, go figure, but we had been friends since elementary school. I won't bore you with the whole letter but the end was amazing. 

My favorite quote: 

"Seeing as how it is Valentine's Day i just want to say a few things. To me you are still the prettiest girl that i know...I never told you this but out of all the girls that i've kissed you were by far the best kisser. Your kiss could make an old man jump up and dance like he was young again."      

oh the wisdom of seventeen year old boys.  

Everyone needs to know that someone thinks they are pretty and amazing enough to give even old men new life. Though lets hope that i never actually find out about the old man part, unless of course i am an old bitty that is married to that old man.

Moral of the story: save all your notes so on Valentine's Day you can stop pretending that no one loves you. Have a little review of the letters and eat a heart shaped Reese's, this can cure all that ails you on such a day.

terrors in the night

this is us doing our scared faces, or how people look when they wake up to my screaming and clawing them...

Today i had the following conversation with my sister Jenny:

            me-"Hey Jenny, remember that time last summer when we woke up screaming at each other? Yeah, last night i woke up to Milo freaking out and kicking me in the ribs, it was kinda like when you clawed me..."

            jenny- "You do realize that you are the only common denominator here, right?"

I have a long history of sleep walking, talking, dancing, singing, acting malicious etc. I remember when i was a young lass, only a few years old, waking up on the couch and not knowing how i got there. My parents didn't believe me when i said i got there in my sleep, well turns out it was true. 

Within the next few years my random acts of migrating from my bedroom to the couch escalated. I have always been one to go to bed fairly early, because of this my siblings were often privy to my antics. 

These antics included:

• Carrying all my bedding upstairs, wandering back to my room where i stood curiously waiting for my sheets to reappear, or so according to Lynsey. 
• Going to the kitchen, filling a glass of water, walking to Levi's room where i proceded to slowing empty the glass on his floor while glaring at him.
• Telling Mallory to take out our nonexistent cat, because i of course, didn't do it yet.
• Singing Mallory a song about how i flushed the toilet, doing a little ditty of a dance and then yelling "Make Way!" while i ran full speed and jumped on top of her in bed.
• Getting dressed for school, usually before midnight, and then staring at the clock with my face pressed against it until it registered in my mind that it was not 7:30 yet. (this happened weekly).
• Sitting up in bed, looking over at Mallory while pointing my finger as gun and saying, "Get out o my town..."
• Yelling at Mallory for telling me that it wasn't time for school and to go back to bed, having Jenny come in to console me, then in between crying into Jenny, looking over at Mallory and glaring.

The instantes continued as i got older, generally it was just small things like waking up on the other side of my room or wandering around the house, but nothing terribly exciting. However, things picked up again when i got to college. 

our room, case and point

When i was a freshmen i shared a room with Diana. For a while we kept our beds on opposite sides of the room but soon it became apparent that i had a problem with keeping the area clean between our beds. This led us to pushing our beds together. This gave us ample storage space under the beds and made for entertaining evenings full of girl talk and slumber parties with our other roommate. However, moving the beds also planted the seed of sleep walking in both of us. 

Soon Diana began to cause scenes of her own. One night she sprang up yelling something about slavery and began to run off the end of our bed. She occasionally gave me American History lessons too. She however, was not the only one to run-amuck in the night. My best episode was wandering out of our apartment in the middle of the night only to wake up with my forehead against the outside of the front door with my hand on the handle. The door was open and i was standing in just my underwear and a tank top, very scandalous for BYU. One more second and i would have locked myself out. Diana and i were also constantly talking to each other when one of us was getting up early to go to work and the other was still asleep.

That was four years ago, i haven't done much of anything since then so i figured i was done. But then came Jenny and our screaming match last summer.

(this is how i imaged we looked)

Ada's infamous 'Spin and Shake,' or how i image her spinning around my room...

Jenny came to visit which meant that i was sharing my full size bed with her and her daughter, Ada, was sleeping on the floor next to us. Neither of us like touching people in our sleep so we are pretty good at sticking to our side of the bed. In the middle of the night we both woke up, arms wrapped around each other, nails digging in, screaming at the top of our lungs at each other. After a few split seconds of this charade, we both let go and lay back, trying to catch our breath. Ada however, was spinning circles on the ground screaming. We then began to question each other as to what caused the ruckus, to this day we both think the other person started it. 

The next morning while at breakfast Ada turned to Jenny, "Mom, i don't know who screamed first, you or aunt Bethany, but i was like number 99 scared..."

This is one of the instances that i want to replay when i am in heaven, i really want to know who screamed first.

looks docile and innocent, huh? well not in the middle of the night, i swear it was him...

Now this exact same scenario has happened again last night. Replace Jenny with Milo and subtract all the screaming. I am pretty sure at least three of Milo's legs jabbed me straight in the ribs. I swear he was having a night terror, but as Jenny pointed out, i am a common factor. 

I guess now that i live alone and don't have someone to notice if i scream in my sleep, i will have to wait until i am married to find out if i really cause others to have night terrors. I pity the fool that marries me only to wake up to my white knuckles digging into his rippling biceps...

see jane date

something strange happened in my 22nd year, but i still can't figure out what.


You see, i am not the dating type. It isn't that i don't like dating, i just am not good at being the girl that guys immediately think to ask out, it generally takes a few encounters before they realize that i could be a possibility (or realize i am not crazy and my comments are sarcastic not serious). 


Girls that get asked out a lot are good at flirting, generally shower every day, wear cute outfits, are never seen without makeup, say the right things etc. And why wouldn't they get asked out? They do everything right and therefore deserve it.


I however, not many of those. Flirting is like a foreign language to me, if i don't feel dirty i don't shower, i had to make a new year's resolution to wear makeup, and i more often than not say completely inappropriate things on accident. I do wear cute outfits though, (even the girl at the Nissan dealership stopped me yesterday to tell me how cute my outfit was). But i am not bitter toward these flirty girls, to each his own, we are all different and neither of us are pining to be like the other.


But recently i have somehow shifted to the other side. I, Bethany Jane Davis, had not one, not two, but three boys ask me out or ask for my phone number in January. 


I fee like i have become a Bakawali flower, it rarely blooms and it is does so, it is only at night and wilts before dawn. 

Perhaps i am reached my prime. I had better act fast before the dawn comes... or i could just figure out what has started intriguing the opposite sex. Yes, that latter idea sounds like a better plan. Find out why they are intrigued, perfect it, and then hook the entire male population. This is fool proof. This is perfect. 


Maybe i should write my own version of the childhood classics 'Fun with Dick and Jane.' 'See Jane Date' could become a quick bestseller. It is bound to be full of off color comments said on accident, awkward dating formalities and of course, graceful exits-my specialty.


or perhaps boys have started asking me out because i am no longer bitter (yes, this is me admitting that i was a bitter person). I recently found a note i wrote on Facebook almost exactly a year ago, it is more than slightly bitter towards the male race...


and yes, i now realize i am probably just as bad of a date as the boys that i mentioned. Heck i know there is at least one blog post floating around about me... haha


"anthem of a 22 year old girl 
(not to be confused with a certain 23 year old girl)
posted on March 1st, 2010


before i begin, let me warn you, this is a pessimistic note. do not think that i hate life or half of the population, a lot of you i still love, like this much <3 <3 <3, this note is mostly for about ten or so unnamed individuals and anyone who mimics them.

i have come to a pathetic realization over the past little while, chivalry is utterly and completely dead and for the most part my counter part in society, the male, is lacking.

my friends often remind me of my stellar dating trend and ask to hear stories of the latest awkward/entertaining date that i have suffered through. Okay, suffering isn't a completely honest word choice, they have not been that bad, but i do wonder what goes through a boys mind when he thinks, "i want to ask that bethany girl out, we have so much in common!" seriously? so much in common? But even worse than the less than magical, semi-annual dates, is the fact that boys can't even be trusted in daily interaction.

Though i doubt that many, if any, of the boys that need a lesson in dating or just how to be human, will read this, let me give a few pieces of priceless advice.

15 tips for the lacking male:

1. do not go on a date with a girl and never tell her your full name, 'Buck' is not attractive.
2. do not go on a blind date and play 'how well do you know your date' because the answer is not at all.
3. do not hold a girls hand and then the next day tell her you already have a girlfriend, whoops!
4. do not ask a girl to meet you by a fast food restaurant to start off your date (and yes by, not even at) on campus none the less.
5. do not say 'let's get dinner' at the end of the date and then let her pay for herself, it was your idea after all.
6. do not go on walks that are miles long when the girl is wearing high heels and then no shoes at all.
7. do not invite a girl to watch a movie, cuddle, and then pretend it never happened, that was all your doing.
8. do not plan a group date and tell your date all the details but say 'but don't tell the other girls, we want it to be a special surprise for them.'
9. do not ask the girl to drive herself to part of the date, especially a group date where everyone else picks up their dates.
10. do not take a girl out for long periods of time without feeding her.
11. do not kiss a girl and then tell her it was an accident and you didn't mean to.
12. after you reject a girl do not keep asking her to do favors for you.
13. do not sit in your chair while your date leaves the restaurant to feed the parking meter, maybe you should even offer to pay for half.
14. do not be little a girls major or job, it only makes her want to punch you.
15. do not throw a fully clothed girl into a pool (amazingly enough this has happend to me three times, yes three different boys, three different pools) either you really hate me or your way of flirting sucks.

i know that i am not the perfect date, but i do try. living in provo and going to byu is already strange enough when it comes to meeting the opposite sex, let's not try and make it more difficult.

so to all of you boys that have one of these pathetic rules named after you, shame on you, what would your mother say? i do not wish to be put on a pedestal but the doormat is a little much. and in case you didn't realize it when you blew me off or made a fool out of me, i am worth it and a hell of a lot more.

best of luck to us all, but i wish you even more luck, mister male, who is anxiously engaged in trying to woo the ladies."

23 years and counting

On more than one occasion my siblings and i have voiced our amazement that all ten of us have made it to adulthood. In your family this might not seem like such a feat, but the Davis family always seems to get injured more often and do more stupid things than the average family. (if you haven't read the post on my family, read this post now. or read this one.)

Okay maybe it isn't that we do more intense things, but there is a litter of us so it only seems natural that our family would have been based on survival of the fittest. That surely means that one of us should have unintentionally killed another while being more fit. Well, i guess as the tithing child i am glad this wasn't the case...

Since yesterday i celebrated me being birthed 23 years ago, let's remind ourselves how the last 23 years looked, bad hair and all (all being HUGE glasses).

But before all that bad hair, please remember what I looked like yesterday-keep this is mind when the unfortunate photos come along... like that second one... (don't worry that in the course of one week two 'friends' told me that i was one of the most unfortunate looking children they had seen...)

2011                                                                      1988

Yes, i know, i looked like an 80 year old man straight out of the womb.

1988

i am pretty sure mallory was trying to kill me, not burp me...

1989

1990

1991

is this a foreshadow of Loon Lake disaster of 1998?!

1992

1993

1994

1995

1996

 1997

1998

1999

2000

2001

2002

2003

2004

2005

2006

2007

2008

2009

2010

and yet, 

somethings never change with age...

2010

15 days in and I still have a hard time remembering that the year is now 2011. i still remember walking to the Boise Depot from katie's house for the big 2000 new year's party. there is no way that was a decade ago...

there is no way i am old enough to say 'a decade ago'

so what memorable happened in 2010? well let me tell you...


I turned 22. this involved a party with sugar cookies made to look like me, a homemade photo booth, and these fantastic boys that let me have the party at their house.

I assisted celebrity photographer Brian Smith at Sundance and met Miss Universe...

i flew to TN and then drove to SC to watch Jojo run her first (canceled) marathon. 

Thank you Myrtle Beach, for all the snow...

I photographed many a thing, one of my favorites being the Festival of Colors.

i was playing with this lovable pup, Milo, and did this to my foot. Jenny lovingly referred to me as 'Cankalicious' for weeks that felt like months.

i went to boise a couple times, visited/photographed my family and best friends from childhood.

i actually briefly dated someone (we are much cuter individuals in real life) and upped my dating quota with going on second dates for the first time ever. (like real dates)

i went to Lake Powell with Jojo's hilarious family and mike's quad nephews. 

quite the adventure.

 i flew to Idaho to cheer on Uncle Rico, I mean Thor, I mean Aaron in his first IRON MAN!

i also discovered that one of my many God given talents is trophy embellishing.

i learned that writing your calendar/to do list on your mirror and leaving dry erase markers in your bathroom leads to lots of good facial hair being drawn next to your important tasks. 

meet my niece, teen wolf.

i spent many an hour with these rag-a-muffins and we had a few photoshoots. 

some in the studio and some outside.

i found new fantastic friends in my ward,

and wowed them with my amazing acrobatics. 

i also spent a lot of time with my 'freshmen' friends.

then there was book club, at least a few. (we aren't so good at the whole once a month thing...)

and photography parties and more than a few classes.

then there was spur the moment jet blue deals that landed three sisters in new york together. 

and more expensive flights that landed two sisters in new zealand for thanksgiving.

 and of course the year ends with a christmas morning photo op on the stairs...

oh, and i met my first llama AND i managed to wear makeup everyday for a year. 

okay, almost everyday.

the end

this town is backwardz

this is what you get if you google provo culture. amazing. priceless.

Today one of my professors mentioned how when he was in school he had a professor that would give every student a platinum print as a wedding present (best wedding present ever). At the end of the class my professor asked for a print since he was not married and didn't think that it was fair that he should be left out of the amazing platinum print gifting.

This brings me to one of my biggest complaints about Provo and its backwards views.

Here, if you are married, you are instantly more responsible/mature/knowledgeable/likable/deserving/and anything else you can name.

But here is the hard truth: a vast majority of the married people i know are not smarter than me and are, quite frankly, not bright enough to be married and bringing children into this world. (there is a reason why the BYU stereotype for marriage exist, it is true that a lot of people get married young and aren't ready for it, their brains haven't matured enough...)

this 19 yr old mormon couple was featured on MTV's Engaged and Underaged. their episode...wow...

This makes me sound bitter about marriage, but i am not. One day i am sure i will fall in love and get all giddy and plan every aspect of my life down to how many children mister right and i are going to have to the color of the chargers at our reception. (that is me trying to sound classy, yes, i know what a charger is...)  

Everyone knows that i have a few issues with BYU, namely BYU Housing and that the honor code takes away honor from people. The thing with the honor code is that once you are married a lot of it doesn't apply any more. You no longer have to live in the crappy mandated BYU Housing, you don't have a curfew, you can have (are encouraged) to have the opposite sex in your apartment (okay so i don't want babies now so that rule is good), but most importantly (and frustrating) people in administration treat married students more like equals.

Somehow my social status has suffered, not due to anything i have done, but due to the fact that others have leaped (blindly in cases) into matrimony and i, have not.

this dress is AMAZING and mine will be slightly like it.

Last time i checked i was decently independent and adult. I have been basically finically independent since i was 16. I am putting myself through college. I co-own a successful business. I know how to cook and am pretty good at it. I am good at balancing my finances and really good at shopping. I know how to change a tire. I know those random cleaning and laundry tricks.

Why is it then, that i am treated like i am slightly less of a person than my 18 year old married counterpart?!

oh and also speaking of marriage, but not provo in general, why is it that you aren't supposed to need anything until you get married and then you get to put it on your registry? Do people not learn how to cook until they get married? Do you not need dishes or towels or furniture when you are single? For the record, i need/needed all of these/those things. As long as my future husband is small enough to fit in a full size bed i don't need a thing-other than a tandem-when i get hitched.

363/365

this time last year i decided that i was actually going to make a new years resolution. this was big. this was huge. don't get me wrong, i make goals, i tend to write them in dry erase on my bathroom mirror and erase them as i knock them out of the park- but new year's resolutions, not my thing.


but last year i decided that i would wear makeup everyday for one year and make it my new year's resolution.

see, proof i wear makeup.

you see, i sell high end cosmetics for a living. i can tell you the shade name, retail price, shipping weight, our price, and a decent description of every item that we carry. don't worry that we have over 600 listings on ebay, over 50 shades of lip gloss alone. i am pretty good at cosmetics, however, wearing them and knowing how to wear them is something else...



i like clothes and accessories. i am known for my extensive banana republic wardrobe and amazing assortment of stilettos. i always know what i was going to wear, but i never put much thought into my hair or makeup. i decided this should change.

i figured out how to photograph my crazy eye, don't include it! (oh, but i did leave in my scar from eye surgery) thank you banana, for this eye covering fedora for $3.74

now that it is december 31st, 2010, i can officially say that i succeeded at my first ever new year's resolution. i wore some form of makeup everyday (except for the two days i spent in lake powell) of 2010. and since it is the last day of the year, i decided to go out with a bang. i am wearing mascara (and it is not sunday), and i even added in a few smashbox false lashes.

there is a reason i rarely do self portraits, it just doesn't work for me... modeling that is...

so how do i feel it turned out? i think it went pretty well. i actually had a short lived romance and went on dates with a few other guys this year. that blows my semi annual dates of years past out of the water. i guess boys do like makeup, so stop lying that you like it when girls don't wear it.

we were always made to be zorbing together

Last week i was showing my friend Rachel my photos from New Zealand. When i got to the ones of zorbing she got super excited and made me listen to this song, needless to say i am hooked and have listened to it about 25 times. (who knew someone had written a song about how two people were made to zorb together, precious).

Zorbing: you do a running dive into a soft plastic ball that has a few inches of warm water in it. They then push you down a zig zag track that is cut out of a hill. If you have amazing acrobatic talents like Lynsey, you will get so rambunctious that you will bounce yourself out of the zig zag track and all the way across the hill. Then you get turned upside down and birth yourself out. weird.

some of us 'birth' a little more attractively than others...

case and point

Though we could have gone rafting instead of zorbing and gone down a 7 meter waterfall, I am pretty happy with my choice of being tossed to and fro like a hamster. We also did one ride with three people. As you can guess it was basically a lot of arms and legs flying every which way.

she got to go down with the two of us, we got all sorts of personal with our limbs flying...

I also found out that they now have a Zorb in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. Yes, Sarah and Luke, I am taking your kids on this during one of my next visits. (okay it might have to wait a while, there are height requirements...)

classy

I always like to think of myself as a classy gal. I pride myself in the outfits i create on a daily basis and that i do classy things like seal letters with wax. I enjoy old movies and a good book. I love the way food looks when it is dished up neatly on a plate. I am classy.

However, after looking through all my photos from New Zealand I realized that I make a LOT of unfortunate, less than classy, faces.

And I wonder why I am single...

getting ready to go caving

this is what happens after 30 hrs of travel

lynsey sat on me on the rope swing and i got a rope burn on my thigh, go figure.

okay so i don't look that bad, but Lynsey's face is priceless.

that is what i thought of the stinky boiling mud.

Tim Tam Slam!

nighttime antics.

and my super amazing outfit that i hiked 8 hours in. I didn't know we were hiking and neglected to pack decent hiking attire...

utah hair? in new zealand?

once again another swing accident.

a tim tam thanksgiving

I have fallen in love with many a thing while i have been in New Zealand, so much so, i may never come back to the states. 

one of these newly found wonders is:

Tim Tam cookies

It is actually a Australian creation but i discovered it in New Zealand so i will leave it with that. It is pretty amazing and you can do what they like to call 'the tim tam slam' where you bite the ends off of the cookie and sip hot chocolate through it, then you slam the cookie in your mouth before it melts/disolves. This sounds like a winner of an activity. If i like you enough, you may be one of the few that is invited over for a tim tam slam night (since i will of course be bringing some back since i have ample room in my baggage as my last post indicated.)

In honor of Thanksgiving, i decided to be glutenous with Tim Tams instead of the usual pie (BUT i still need a pie fix, i am thinking i can only safely make it two weeks without the pie i was due today). We also had a turkey dinner, i think by accident, but however it came about, i appreciated it.

And in the true Thanksgiving spirit, here are the things i am currently grateful for (just some, not all of course):

-my hilarious family that is always a fountain of good stories
-a good job that lets me take paid vacations, a good brother named levi would go along with those too
-milo, especially when he wears a sweater and falls asleep on me at work
-tim tams and pie
-education and the fact that i enjoy learning/reading/school
-friends, the good kind that stick around forever
-boys, even if they don't like you back, having crushes is at least entertaining/fun/funny
-home furnishings, the more i apartment shop the more i appreciate good furniture/bedding/linen
-food, all of it (except mushrooms and olives, they are always a bad decision)
-and last but not least, i am thankful that i am happy.

In other news from my trip: i of course had a tiny mishap involving water, long jumping, mud, and my iPhone.

you can probably figure out what happened, but when i get a better internet connection i will add a photo...

packing minimalist

Lets go over my last few hours, shall we?

6:15pm rush home from the dog park with Milo to make it to ward temple night

6:30 decide the line is too long at the provo temple so we drive to the mt. timpanogoes temple.

6:50 arrive at timp to find out they are randomly closed. EPIC FAIL.

7:00 start writing my research paper on Robert Capa (who i may or may not be totally in love with, only if you were still alive, young, and tweezed your eye brows, this could be a beautiful love affair)

8:00 bake cookies to keep me awake

10:00 shower (third day in a row, this is a record. seriously.)

10:30 take a cat nap

11:20 back to Capa

1:00am eat more cookies, drink more coke

3:30 FINISHED my paper

3:31 second cat nap

5:03 edit my Communal

6:45 get dressed/ready?

7:00 finish packing

7:25 go to the library to print off my paper 

7:59 turn in my paper, before the 8am deadline

8:03 go the print lab, print Communal images

8:45 edit Harley Davidson images

9:00 turn in prints and edits

9:30 go to work

11:00 leave for airport

and that is why when i first started packing my suitcase looked like this:

I mean who wants to actually pack after a hellish night like that?!

I have the necesities. 

      Camera (actually two with a few lens etc)

                                                         underwear

                                                                    passport

yup, got it all covered.

Okay, so i did pack a little more. I did add a few shirts, one skirt, my trusty Chacos, running attire, and toiletries. BUT i am still a packing minimalist. When i got to the airport i realized that my bag has tons of extra space, like a lot, like i could fit a small child in there too. does this mean i am forgetting something important?

oh well. i guess that is why God put stores in New Zealand too.

on a different note:

please admire this image that is on the inside of my super industrial camera bag.

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!

I, unfortunately, do not have any whitey tighties that are hot and steamy, right out of the drier to pack.

well that about sums up my: paper, photography, editing, blogging, working, coke drinking, cookie baking, temple going, dog chasing- day.

now i am off to L.A. (currently i am in Denver), then Auckland, and then Wellington. good think i just recently became one of those people that is dead to the world 15 minutes before take off. (but the flight from SLC to Denver scared the living daylights out of me, i was so out of it that when the plane took off i couldn't remember where I was and about crapped my pants when the plane shot in the air...)

Davises go all the way

apparently my last post inspired my sister to send me this paper that she wrote for a family history class. to prove that i was also part of this adventure, i decided to add the photos.

Davises Go All the Way

-written by Sarah Davis Bollschweiler

Snow. The Myrtle Beach Marathon was officially cancelled. Would-be runners sulked around the Sheraton Hotel lobby in yoga pants and Chaco sandals, their tanned faces creased with disappointment---some even with rage. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” one pony-tailed woman ranted. “I drove all the way from North Carolina for this?!” 

(jojo was THIS excited about the cancelation)

“That must have been an inconvenience,” my brother smirked. “I had quite a time getting here too. You see, I set out from Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, two days ago, flew to Raleigh (my original flight here being cancelled with all this crazy weather), slept all night on the floor of the airport, hopped in a rental car and drove ten hours to Pennsylvania to get my sister who was snowed in, sawed up the thirty-foot fallen tree blocking her driveway, and drove all day to get her here in time for her first marathon. We’re a little disappointed too.” 

As absurd as his ordeal sounded when he recounted it, Aaron relished the opportunity to share it with someone---even this stranger (now looking quite bewildered) ---because if there’s one trait he values above all, it is persistence, an attribute thoroughly saturating the Davis gene pool. In our family, when you do something you go all the way. 

Maybe the original source of our thoroughly thorough behavior is my mom: how a woman with ten children could have the most immaculate kitchen cupboards in town (not a stray grain of sugar to be found) still mystifies me. We knew that when she asked us to clean the bathroom, she meant CLEAN the bathroom; so while all the other kids in the world (if they even had to clean a bathroom at all) haphazardly squirted 409 here and there and gave the counters a quick swipe, we were supposed to bring our bathroom up to hospital sanitation standards. Of course, Mom’s perfectionism had its perks too, especially when it came to cooking. We knew that while other moms might call tossing a frozen chicken pot pie in the oven “making dinner,” our mother would always make something delicious from scratch. No gluey instant potatoes or crumbly cake mixes at our house... no way.

(Joseph Dyer was not involved in the B17 incident, he is part of another article)

My dad’s stick-to-it-iveness exceeded even my   mother’s, his life driven by an obsession that began in his youth. As a boy he dreamed of airplanes, read all he could find about them, and even almost succeeded in stealing a four-engine B-17 in his rebellious teenage years in a failed attempt at running away (a secret kept from my mom for decades). Nothing---not even my grandfather’s attempt to reform him after the B- 17 episode---could keep my dad from his dream. In adulthood he acquired an airplane in a more legitimate (although still unconventional) fashion: he designed built his own from scratch. His Starship Alpha, a boomerang-shaped single-seater, was modeled after Jack Northrop’s flying wings of the 1940’s. (I suppose Dad decided that since he was doing something crazy like building his own airplane, he may as well build one with some style.) Most of my early childhood memories of Dad involve his airplane: hearing him talk about it, driving to the airport to see him work on the airplane in his hangar, watching him fly it, and bragging to my friends that my dad had made the cover of Popular Mechanics (as if they—or even I, for that matter---really knew what that meant).

As Davis kids, we learned by example what it meant to see something through to the end, whether it was something as simple as baking a cake or as complex as building an airplane, and though all ten of us kids have a bit of persistence built into us, Aaron seems to have been given a double portion. I remember, for example, watching him at age twelve or so spend months building a two-story playhouse for us kids, doing almost all the planning and work by himself. So when Aaron promised my sister Jenny he would be there for her first marathon, he meant he would be there beside her for the whole 26.2 miles, no matter what.

On that snowy morning in Myrtle Beach, while most other runners slept off the beer they had sorrowfully drunk the night before, Aaron readied himself for the race. For him, hardship made the event all the more important, and since he’d come this far, by golly, no “official cancellation” could stop him. Instead of filling out the standard “medical information” required on the back of his race bib, he scribbled with a sharpie in large capital letters: “Shoot a flaming arrow through my heart and float me on a barge out to sea.” Then he pinned the number to his breast, ingested his final energy gel, and knocked on the door of my sister’s room. He was ready to escort Jenny though the streets of Myrtle Beach, whether anyone else showed up or not.

With Aaron by her side, Jenny covered her first ever 26.2. He cheered her on, told her the kind of stupid jokes only brothers can tell, waved at drivers who honked in camaraderie, ran ahead to build snowmen and throw snowballs. The rest of us (no Davis event is sparsely attended) followed in my minivan, stopping occasionally to hand out Gatorade and snacks. My husband and I even ran the second half of the race along with Jenny. But Aaron was there every step of the way, and four and a half hours after the official Davis family marathon began he escorted his little sister across the finish line because he is Davis, and Davises go all the way.

if i die, send me out on a barge with flaming arrows

my family: we are intense. i have been told i am intense more than once but then i realized that i per say, am not intense, but my family and my growing up are.

we are intense for a number of reasons but my personal favorites are endurance/pain tolerance/athletics.

though i may not be the most shining example of a true athlete, i can always pretend, right?


meet my family:

first, of course, there is my Dad.

really, he should have been in the circus. i never got to witness his super human strength first hand, but he did like to talk about all of his conquest like:

-walking off a 40 foot platform on his hands to dive into a hot springs
-walking on his hands down flights of stairs at BYU
-tightrope walking between two buildings at BYU
-doing a giant (when you flip all the way around a bar with your body straight) on the free bars in gymnastics (too bad he didn't mean to do the giant and ended up flying off the bar and landing on his head on the hardwood floor..)
-balancing his body between two chair backs, one under his neck and one under his heels
-building his own jet ski in high school (the 50's)
-riding his motorcycle down as many flights of stairs as he could find at BYU
-surviving a major plane accident is pretty impressive too.
      -okay all of his plane stuff was impressive, stealing a B17 bomber at 17, making the cover of Popular     Mechanics... you name it, it was impressive

then there are other members of my family:

meet Aaron or Thor as he likes to be called

(if only i had the photo of him standing on a mountain in garbage bag 'jacket' downing the can of easy cheese... oh he also had a gotee, yes, it was just as gross as you imagined. no, worst than imagined.)

-this summer he became an IRON MAN! go Thor! he only lost a few toenails, and sadly it was before the race began

-he was on the National Guard marathon team

-has qualified for the Boston Marathon more than once

-hikes 50 milers like no ones business

he is also known for completing adventures that most, sane?, people would have stopped. Like the one time with the dangerous zip line, or the hike into Loon Lake that was hellish battle against the ungroomed trail with a mountain bike on his back, or our families personal favorite: the freak flash flood at Loon Lake that left Aaron with 5 younger siblings walking through ice water and hallucinating. 

Then there are the runners:

Jenny and Sarah are ROCKSTARS

Jenny:

-don't worry that she has TWO kids and still has a freaking six pack. rockstar

-she also completed her first marathon even though the official race was canceled due to a freak snow storm in Myrtle Beach, SC

-at her first official marathon she qualified for Boston! Huzzah, that is how a Davis does it.

Sarah:

-last summer, at the Wasatch Back Relay, Sassy passed runners left and right even though he had a serious baby bump going on

-she also recently qualified for Boston with Jenny

-she and her husband Luke (who also just qualified for Boston) were named the 'Fastest Couple in Knoxville, TN'

-she consistently runs through her pregnancies until she is about to pop that sucker out

Next we have Levi:

-he used to go to Utah to compete in rock climbing contests when he was still in high school. he won a lot too (not to mention he turned his bedroom into a rock climbing room...)

-he builds longboards and has had his few brushes with death (like crashing so bad that the road cut through his leather jacket)

oh mallory... darling mallory...

-LOOK AT THAT SIX PACK! i love that even when she was little mallory was pretty rock solid

-she played soccer for years, though this image doesn't show her talent, it does show her personality...

-always on the 'A' team for volleyball

-set records left and right for the triple jump

Mike may look laid back, but he is pretty intense too, just look at the sweet surfing injury

-mike thinks that the right job is the one that allows you to go surfing on your lunch break. he has taught both lynsey and mallory how to surf, if i move to LA i assume i will be next.

-he also did the Wasatch Back relay and a Mud Run in LA

the Champion of the family:

my brother in law lane is not only an avid runner but was part of the World Class Athlete Program for the Army. He even went to the Olympic trials. (He also won a slue of races but I, for the life of me, can't remember the names...)

he also had the mile record at South Jr. High for over 20 years at just over 5 minutes

S'Lynsey or Rynsey...

This one time lynsey got: Scarlet Fever, strep, croup, and staph all at the same time, needless to say it kind of messed her up BUT she still played soccer, did cross country, track and is the most flexible of the bunch. She can do the splits or a scorpion at any given time. oh my rubber sister.

though i don't have any images of her kicking butt at limbo, i think that going to aerobics that Richard Simmons teaches is pretty amazing. he liked to call her and her friends skanks. apparently it is a term of endearment coming from good old 'sweatin to the oldies' simmons.

and these were the people that I had images for. there of course, are more.

Mary: 

my teachers in high school were still talking about Mary when I was in their classes 17 years later. She was a pretty impressive volleyball player and the like.

Katie:

at the age of 12 Katie won State for gymnastics. She also did track and volleyball.

She is also a personal trainer and we (my six sisters and i) have unanimously agreed that if all 7 of us got in a fight she would reign supreme. 

noting is more attractive than recovering from ankle reconstructive surgery.

 

my 18th birthday, the same day i had cartilage removed from my hip

And then there was me, the tithing child.

i like to think that i am athletic. i played: soccer, volleyball, basketball, tennis, track, and was on the ski team. But alas, due to a few incredible soccer injuries i had hip, knee and ankle surgery by the time i reached the ripe age of 18. 

could i have been way more awesome if i hadn't been hurt?!

well, i am trying to live up to my family and have started running again. i do not love it on days like today when it is a whopping 33 degrees outside, but it has to be done.

i am getting excited for Ragnar Wasatch Back Relay 2011, the Davis Flying Wings are going to be the most entertaining group around, hopefully pretty athletic too.

but, if I don't survive this winter and training, send me out on a barge with flaming arrows like a Viking.

Aaron has said over and over that we have 1000 Viking ancestors that you can call upon to complete a strenuous activity, and if they don't, well, you can go out on a barge like a Viking

i am an artist, i think this proves that.

mmm chocolate....

God made man,
                     then he made eve,
                                         and then he made the nestle chocolate chip cookie recipe
so she could make all other creatures happy.

nothing makes me more happy than pulling perfect chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and eating them while they are hot.

today being tuesday, the night biggest loser is on, it is only fitting that i finished the night off with a round of cookies. (levi told me that i need to stop watching the biggest loser since i seem to eat/make copious amounts of fatty food while i watch it, he thinks i am on the slippery slope to ending up on the show...)

you may think that i am being pompous when i say that i make the best chocolate chip cookies, however i am not. i think it is the 15 years of practice that has made me a master. thank you, levi, for making me make you cookies every sunday for years.

Nestle Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 cup shortening (butter flavored is the secret)
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup sugar
---cream---
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla (the more the better!)
---mix---
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
flour (i never know how much, the secret is to add an amount that makes the best dough, not sticky but still soft, you all know what good dough feels like)
an entire 12 oz bag of chocolate chips. don't skimp on the chocolate.

bake at 375 for 9-10 minutes.

take them immediately off the pan to cool so that they don't over cook on the hot pan.


now you can be as happy as i am right now. (watching albie and chris from real housewives of new jersey may also be helping...)

vigilante justice

In 2006, a survey of nearly 2,000 BYU students revealed the following percentages relating to different problems in their BYU Off-Campus Housing

Today I met with BYU Housing for about the billionth time about issues I had with my landlord a couple years back. They actually liked what I said and want me to work with their office to create a document that will be handed to every student when they move into a BYU approved unit. (my description of it is near the end).

Here is what my 15 minutes of fame in the Housing Department meeting consisted of:

Thank you for letting me come and talk to you today. Since I have not met many of you let me briefly introduce myself. My name is Bethany Davis and I am from Boise Idaho and the youngest of ten. My parents met at BYU in the sixties and all of my siblings have attended BYU over the last 22 years. I am a BFA student in the Photography department and will be graduating in 2012.

Craig Thomas asked me to come in today to describe my experience with living in off campus housing and how this housing’s office failures to enforce and oversee housing concerns between students and landlords forced me to seek vindication in court.

In May of 2007 I moved into a fairly large complex with around 120 units, each with 4 tenants. I knew that when I moved in that the complex was large and the involvement of management would be different than with a small complex or house, but I had never anticipated the problems that arose.

Early on in my tenancy I began to be frustrated with the way management ran the complex and voiced my concerns to them. It was not uncommon for the management to violate the terms of our housing contracts and in effect trespass by coming into our apartment without proper notice or no notice at all. When we did request maintenance it could take weeks, if they ever came, and the work that was done was shotty to say the least. The apartment was not cleaned thoroughly before my roommates and I moved in, leaving us to clean copious amounts of hair out of our carpet and take a load of items that were not ours to DI. My landlord was also abrasive from the beginning and once called me just to tell me that my roommates would hate me when they moved in. As time went on the problems only escalated.

In August of 2008 I returned from a vacation to find that my front door lock had been changed. There had been a notice placed on my door that said, “stop by the office today to pick up a new key, we are changing the locks.” I called the office to see if they could let me in but they were closed and the automated message said that if you are locked out it is not an emergency and not to contact the emergency number, because of this I had to frantically find a place to sleep at 1:30 in the morning. It was between semesters and many people were out of town. I did not know any girls in my complex so my only option was to sleep on my brother’s floor even though that is against housing rules.

The next morning I went to the office to confront Donnetta Knight, the manager, about the lack of notice for changing the locks. I knew that Utah mandates that the tenants are given written or verbal notice at least 24 hours before such maintenance is done. Donnetta did not seem bothered at all that she had rekeyed a building full of 20-year-old girls without warning them. This being the same summer that a rapist was on the loose in my neighborhood and we had a police officer constantly watching the area, I was even more disheartened by her actions. Seeing that she did not regard the safety of her tenants I sought help through BYU’s Housing Office.

I went to the Housing Office assuming that something could be done but instead I was asked to back down. I was told that if I filed a complaint at BYU Housing against the complex and it led to Carriage Cove losing their accreditation with the University, I would be solely responsible for making around 400 students that currently resided at Carriage Cove find new housing. The Housing Representative also informed me of what a caring person Donnetta was since they were longtime friends.

A few months later I attended the Off Campus Housing Q&A where I voiced my concerns about my landlord still feeling entitled to come into my apartment with no notice whenever she deemed fit. The representatives present asked me to speak with them after the meeting where they collected my information and informed me that they would contact the complex and call me to let me know that something had been done. After trying to follow up a few weeks later with them, they still had not contacted the complex or notified them of my complaint.

In April of 2009 I tried contacting BYU Housing one more time when things had escalated with Donnetta. She started singling me out of my roommates, blaming me for damages in common areas of the apartment and charging me alone to fix them. She also informed one of my roommates that “I don’t know who Bethany thinks she is, she has no rights. If she doesn’t fix this (regarding the ‘damage’ in the apartment) I will ruin her credit and put a hold on her academic account at BYU.” I had never paid my rent late, I was a quiet tenant and left my apartment much cleaner than I found it, and had, in my estimation, lived up to my end of our written housing contract, had respected the rights and property of Carriage Cove and had been a complying and high-caliber tenant and did not deserve this treatment. I told Craig Thomas about this encounter and the things that she said. I knew that Donnetta did not have the power to do either of the things she threatened but I do not take kindly to being threatened. While I was in his office I filed a formal complaint with BYU about the many violations Carriage Cove had committed ranging from harassment to trespassing, to endangering tenants. I then told Mr. Thomas that I would never live in a BYU approved space again because I felt that the landlords were given unlimited power by BYU and were held in higher regard than the students. To my comment he replied, “I don’t blame you,” this left me feeling even more hopeless that the situation had not and would not be being taken seriously. I then asked him what I was supposed to do about the situation and he said, “Well you can try mediation but I can already tell you Donnetta will not go, you could also take them to court. If you win, come back and let us know and we will file it as a claim being validated.”

After being left with no options from BYU other than pursuing vindication and justice via a court of law, I sued Carriage Cove on November 6^{th, 2009} for violating my privacy and disregarding the wellbeing and safety of their tenants. The Fourth District Court of Provo found my accusations to have merit and a judgment in my favor was awarded me. Carriage Cove was forced to pay my court fees and I was awarded punitive damages in the amount of $200.

Preparing for and going to court was an enlightening experience for me. It was much easier to file in the small claims court than I had anticipated and if you go in with proper documentation of your allegations you have nothing to fear. When I went to court I had a copy of my contract and the BYU Off Campus Housing Guide that had the many infractions I witnessed highlighted, a receipt that showed the actual cost of an item Donnetta claimed I broke and charged me an outrageous amount to replace, notices I had received from Carriage Cove that showed the improper amount of notice for entry given, and past and current tenants who participated on my behalf as witnesses.

Prior to having a judge hear your case you are asked to go to mediation to see if you can work out a solution without the courts. In this meeting Donnetta did not want to discuss any solution other than me dropping the case. She also claimed that she had never, in all her years, received a complaint through BYU and that she had every right to treat me like she did. While I was in the mediation room alone with the mediator, she told me that they usually do not handle cases that involve punitive damage and if the judge listened to my case instead of throwing it out I would be lucky. Apparently the judge saw my claims as substantial and choose to hear our case. In court it became apparent that Donnetta did not document anything at the complex other than contracts that are being signed. She quickly became flustered when she could not back up the answers that she gave the judge and her only defense slowly became trying to convince the judge that I was a terrible, unlikeable person that did not deserve to be treated properly. Her defense was one that had no merit, was strictly based on unsubstantiated personal option and not upon fact, nor was it corroborated by the testimony of others.

Although I found vindication in a court of law, I am not quite sure it was worth my time and energy if significant and meaningful changes are not made here within BYU’s Housing office to help support honor-code-abiding students who are mistreated by the property owners and management companies who do not follow the policies that they have signed on to as BYU-approved landlords.

Though prior to going to court I was told that this was the only way BYU would act upon my complaints, when I turned in my court verdict to this office, I was told that it would be looked into to see if they needed to do anything. From a student’s standpoint, I had assumed the time to investigate such claims were when they were happening and a court verdict means they have been deems valid by a judge and therefore merit action.

Prior to this meeting today, I had met with different members of this office at least five times detailing the problems I had witnessed at my complex and each time I was not taken seriously and left feeling frustrated with the system. I documented everything I was told to and even went the extra mile by going court. In one of those meeting I was asked if the main reason I kept coming back was because of a violation of privacy, my answer was, no, this has become something much more than lack of privacy, this is now about the rights of students. The last time I came in it was also to inform this office that Carriage Cove has made the news recently because of numerous apartments being broken into. Even worse is the fact that if you ask Carriage Cove they won’t deny that they lost a master key to the complex over a year ago and never rekeyed the buildings. This, like when I reported being locked out, comes at a time when this area of Provo was the scene to a horrendous crime where a girl was brutally raped and left for dead on the river trail only a short distance away.

I, sadly, am not an isolated case at BYU. Over the last three years, since I have been more aware of my rights as a tenant, I have heard students talk about the following things happening to them: two students never received a deposit or itemized receipt from the same landlord, one student came home to find a random maintenance man in his apartment and when he confronted the office they told him not to worry about it and blew him off, one student was charged recheck fees for cleaning checks when her apartment was cleaner than when she moved in, one student was charged $100 to replace carpet that was damaged after she moved out-by a can of gasoline that her landlord neglected to remove from the outside storage of the apartment prior to her ever living there, a landlord tried to evict a student for not paying rent when he had-they felt justified because they wanted him to pay the next months rent early, another student had his landlord burst into his apartment without knocking for cleaning checks-he was only in a towel and the people ran around him and did not even give him time or ask if he wanted to put on clothes, 4 girls were each charged over $600 each when they moved out for damages that did not exist and for storage of items that were in there apartment before they moved in.

These instances were not all at one complex but at different areas of Provo showing it happens everywhere. Though these instances were all since 2007, problems like these have been going on for years. In my family alone, this is not the first time we have had major problems with management. In 2003 my brother came to BYU to seek help after his landlord tried to evict him and his roommates without cause. They had been in constant confrontations over a number of things; his landlord came into his apartment without notice many times, vandalized my brothers property and for vengeance only lied to the honor code office that my brother was doing drugs. Though this landlord had the police called on him after he got into an altercation with a tenant and was charged with assault, this office still chose the side of the landlord who was older over my brothers despite the facts at hand.

Some of these students, like my brother, came into this office and others did not. Some of the students that have come to BYU to get resolution for problems told me that they felt more like they were coming to a counselor, a good listener, rather than someone that would enforce housing guidelines. Others said that their concerns were listened to but the person they talked with tried to get them to change their mind about the complaint because they personally knew the landlord and/or alluded to having personal financial interest in the property. Others felt that because there is no form for complaints that when they turn in a concern typed out on normal paper that it is more like a comment for a suggestion box rather than a formal document to a large organization that demands and should enforce high standards.

Students that did not come in to voice their concerns told me that they either didn’t know how since there are no forms available or that they had heard of other students not getting their problems resolved. At this point they would rather move than try to get the problems resolved through BYU. Others also did not feel comfortable complaining since they assume that BYU is constantly checking up on the complexes enforcing standards and that they must be mistaken about their landlord treating them in such a un-church-like way. Many more are choosing to completely avoid the Off Campus scene by applying for housing waivers.

I understand why this system was created. It was created to give students an environment that would uplift them spiritually and academically. It creates housing where all of the tenants have similar beliefs, are living by the same standards, and are in the same social station of life. In theory, this system is flawless. It also extends the comfort students feel in their classes at BYU into their home life. I feel that many students come to BYU with the view that BYU checks out every aspect of their college life for them. They make sure the professors are upstanding saints, that the students are abiding by the Honor Code, and that the housing has been found to also employ the standards of BYU. Unfortunately housing is only a shell; on your website it says: “The university cannot guarantee that owners and managers are employing their best efforts to maintain our standards, that all residents are complying with BYU standards, or that contracted living units meet our physical criteria.” I think it is ironic that students can be kicked out of the university for an Honor Code violation at their home, yet the apartment that they live in is not held responsible to even maintain BYU’s standards. Because of this I feel that students do not realize that they need to be in charge and seek help though the city when they have problems. Once many of them do realize there is a problem, they would generally just move instead of going as far as I did. Many of them back down after confronting their landlord because they are told that their concerns are not important to the landlord and made to feel that they are in fact the ones that have made a mistake.

When I was here last week Craig Thomas and I had brainstormed different options for mass education of the students. One that I feel would be extremely easy to implement would be to create a document that landlords are required, by BYU Off Campus Housing, to give to their tenants when they move in. This document could have the top ten things tenants need to know whether this is their first or 20^th apartment. Things that should be included would be landlord’s rights, like the right to enforce the Honor Code and Curfew at the complex etc. It should also include a number of rights of students that are currently and all too commonly violated such as when a landlord has the right to enter the premises to how long a landlord has to give back a deposit or itemized receipt. I feel that if landlords are forced to give a document with information that is worded in common terms vs. legal jargon like the contact, they would be less likely to violate those terms since many more students would realize the injustice and call them out on it earlier. If the form also had a BYU Off Campus Housing header students would feel that BYU is truly involved and if they have a problem they can contact the office. Other documents could also be mandated to be given to tenants such as a Utilities Contract should be given to every unit that does not have utilities included in rent. I, unfortunately did not know that this contract existed until I moved out of my last apartment and was still owed utilities payments by my roommates.

I understand that BYU is frustrated if students do not come to them with problems but students also get frustrated when they feel that they have to do so much to go to this university and are still not taken seriously as adults. Every time I get a new ecclesiastical endorsement I am reminded how there are fewer questions and stipulations to get a temple recommend. I only wish that my landlords also had to go through an equally rigorous interview or at least be required to follow all of the Housing Guidelines.

I thank you again for letting me come to your meeting today to voice my concerns as a student. I am more than happy to answer any questions and aid this office in any way that I can in order to resolve the concerns that fellow students and I have.

24 days and counting

only 24 more days of October.

why am i ready for this pleasant fall month filled with sweaters and pumpkin shaped reese's to be over?

because this is my line up for November:

November 1st: Sufjan Stevens concert in SLC

November 3rd: day trip to NYC for jenny's birthday

November 18-30th: NEW ZEALAND with Lynsey.

other than the part where I will never see November 19th I am pretty stoked for next month.

Always an artist.

Meet me circa 1996 or so. Don't you just loooove the bowl cut?! I know I did...

I know you were taken away with my beauty in the last image and because of this you may have failed to notice my homemade sidekick, Cynthia. Now that you and Cynthia have been formally introduced let me explain my thoughts on the arts as a child.

Art: anything that was created by you that had at least three different mediums involved. Mediums were: (basically anything I could get my hands on) most commonly paper, fabric, yarn, Sculpey Clay, and lace held together by: glue, tape, toothpicks, tread, tinfoil, pipe cleaner, or anything else deemed sticky enough.

I always considered myself quite the budding artist. As a child I used to create memorable drawings of such things as: 'The Scary Mommy,' 'A Girl Turkey Mermaid,' and 'A Girl Dinosaur in a Purple Bra.' I knew I had something going on so I started making even more creations and then telling my mom I would rip them up if she didn't buy them from me, needless to say I earned a lot of nickels. I would even line the longest hallway of our house with my work and charge my family to see the 'art gallery'.

After a few years of this I moved on to sewing and creating dolls. By now I was around 8 years old and apparently had free range of the sewing closet and the store room that was chalked full of art supplies.

My first creations were, well, how do I put this nicely... interesting. Here is one doll made of yarn and the other made of paper and tape. (I think the yarn one was me trying to emulate the corn husk dolls I had seen, why did i think corn husk and yarn were close enough to the same material?!)

Next I got a little more resourceful and the tube sock doll was invented. With this there was also progression, first a lonely head, next a full body, and last a doll that actually didn't have the seams on the outside and even had feet.

Then something magical happened in my life, I found Sculpey. Sculpey is a moldable clay that you then bake to set. This 'helped' my creations a bit but they also became fragile, hence the one poor curly headed girl that only has one foot. But then I found out that their were Sculpey molds which gave me perfect hands and feet and I could even paint the nails!

(don't you love that awesome Christmas dress with puffy sleeves?!)

Then later I skipped the whole doll thing and tried out just dresses and pillows. My sisters still give me a hard time for the large pillow. I hadn't yet figured out how to hide a sewn seam so for this pillow I found it easier just to hot glue it shut. Now my pillow has a nice hard lining :)

I can't believe I made all of these things. All of the ones that I showed here have not seen the light of day since I boxed up all my stuff when I was 16 to move in with my sister. I did come accross two lonely dolls in a box last fall when I was looking for something, and boy did they make the most wonder stocking stuffers for my sisters! I love how one of them had questioning googly eyes and the others arms were about half the width of its head. Priceless.

I can't wait to see what I am going to find when I really go through all of my stuff in a few months...