Ever since I graduated from Southern Virginia University in
April 2012, I’ve been asked the question that every graduate is asked, “What
are you going to do now?” HA. Like I have a clue what I’m doing with the
rest of my life. In high school, I was
preparing for college. I got to college
and I was preparing to graduate with good grades and hopefully get a good,
grown-up/big-girl job. The difference
between high school and college is this: in high school, they are constantly
pushing you to the next level. College,
they just want your money and push you to excel and leave everything up to
you. Sometimes, I appreciate the leaving
things up to me, but in this case, I didn’t really like it that much. So, with no real push to do much else but get
a job, and no real desire to do more school after the experiences I had with
senior papers and collegiate nonsense the last few weeks of college, what am I
to do? I guess I can start working,
wherever I can, make money, as legally as humanly possible, and blog about the
ridiculous experiences I have. I
realized in the last 22 years of life, that some of the experiences I have are
so unbelievably ridiculous, that people don’t believe them sometimes. I can’t even believe them when they happen
half the time.
So I’ve decided to start a blog concerning my post-graduate
life. I have stories concerning my job,
friends, and strange encounters in Orlando that are just too good for me to not
share with people. My hope with this
blog is not to get notoriety or have tons of followers/readers. I’m really hoping that these stories and
experiences I share on this blog are pieces of me that people can enjoy, as
well as memories that I can enjoy in the future. One thing that I really hope happens is that
since most people realize how overly dramatic I am when I tell stories, my
biggest hope is that people will be able to imagine me doing the crazy things I
describe in my stories, and see me saying/re-enacting these things. So onto the first story…
Since graduating, I have
completed and submitted my mission papers so I can serve a full-time mission
for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I came home from school, spent all of May
getting my medical stuff done (physical, blood work, shots, wisdom teeth,
dental exams, etc.), and finally on May 29, 2012, my mission papers were
submitted. All I had to do from then on
was wait, think about where I could get called to serve, and wait.
While waiting, I worked. Not just while waiting, but over the summer
and at Christmastime, I work at a local theme park. Peak season=peak time for busy theme parks
and peak heat. Guests at the park are
happy upon entrance, but throughout the day with the heat/long lines/HEAT, they
get cranky and don’t treat employees particularly well. Now, the people who work in merchandise are
happy because the park guests choose to come to your store and buy something;
not to mention the fact that they are in air-conditioning all day long. People who work in food are generally
miserable because the park guests HAVE to come to you to eat—everyone has to
eat to survive; most of the time, you’re not air-conditioned. I work in food. Now, the season is picking up, lines are
getting longer, temperatures are getting higher, and people are getting a little
crankier. Sometimes you can get some
jokes in with the guests or get some happy guests, but most of the time, you
just try to ooze happiness and kindness and get practically no results.
On June 8, 2012, I had been
working in the main restaurant in my area of the park. Guests had been very nice that day. Lines weren’t too long, it was extremely hot,
but we were able to serve people quickly and easily, and I was able to joke
around with some of the guests. The day
had been going well. I was sent on break
and as I sat down, about to take my first bite of lunch, I got a text from my
mom that said: IT CAME IN THE MAIL TODAY.
I dropped my fork, start bouncing in my chair like crazy, and am dying
to just scream, but soon realize there are about 65 people in the
break-room. Can’t go crazy with 65
people looking at you and instantly judging you. I tried to contain the excitement and eat so
I could finish break, go back to work, and hopefully convince my managers to
let me go home early so I could open my call. It didn’t work too well. I was so excited that I couldn’t eat without
bouncing up and down and being smiley.
And I was facing a news station on the TV talking about a tornado that
hit some high school graduation in Wyoming or Nebraska or somewhere like that
(not exactly something you want to be bouncy and smiley around). But it was useless.
After break, I ran into the
restaurant backroom to go back out to work and was jittering like a crazy
person and blurted out, “If you wanna send people home early, SEND ME. PLEASE LET ME GO HOME EARLY!” It was like word vomit.
My supervisor just laughed and
said, “We’ll see.”
I know that trick. That usually means, “You’re crazy. No.
Well, maybe. Most likely no, but
maybe.” Well played, supervisor, well
played indeed.
So I go back to my location,
feeling like I was greatly outsmarted, and start working again. But as I’m cashing people out at my register,
I realize that it’s really slow in the restaurant. Too slow for me to be there.
As if on cue, a supervisor comes
over and says, “We’re closing your register.
Help clean and we’ll let you go home early.”
AHODEEHO!!!! I
quick start cleaning and rushing everywhere like the Scrubbing Bubbles on speed
and my line finishes cleaning in like 10 minutes flat.
I run out back and say, “WE’RE
DONE! WHAT NOW?!”
“Well, I guess we can cash you
out and send you home.” VICTORY IS
MINE! Theme park slows down, I get to go
home early. I cash out quickly, and take
off for wardrobe. Now, please realize
that it’s like 90+ degrees outside and wardrobe is .5 miles away from my
restaurant, but I ran for wardrobe like my life depended on it. I then perform the fastest quick change I
have ever completed in my life, and book it another .5 miles to my car.
It’s 5pm on a Friday in
Orlando. How in the world am I supposed
to get home quickly? I try the highway,
give up, and start weaving through the streets of Orlando in rush hour traffic. Mind you, I really don’t know Orlando very
well, so I’m just HOPING that whichever street I turn down will get me to the
street that I need to be on. I’m driving
all kinds of fast and furious on the roads: I’m dodging buses, old people, slow
speed limits, police cars, and pedestrians.
After what felt like 3 days, but was really maybe 40 minutes, I made it
home, ran to the house, kick open the door, and fling myself on the couch to
rip open the letter. My mom instantly
goes, “WAIT! We have to call Jessica!”
So she gets my sister on the phone and I have one of my friends on the phone
and I rip open the envelope to see the call: Philippines Angeles Mission,
Tagalog speaking.
I GOT MY MISSION CALL AND I’M
GOING TO…the Philippines?! WHAT THE
FRENCH TOAST?! I’m going to ASIA?! AND WHAT
THE FREAK IS TAGALOG?! I have never
heard of this language…is this one of those countries that speaks in Clicks? Did Greta guess right? ASIA?!
I didn’t even remotely think of going on an Asian mission. I was completely convinced that I was going
on a mission in Europe or stateside at some visitor’s center; Asia was such a
curveball. I was in complete and total
shock. It wasn’t disappointment or anger
or sadness or frustration, it was literally just plain shock. All I could do was laugh and say, “Oh my
gosh, I’m going to the Philippines.” I
instantly started texting and calling friends, family, etc. telling everyone
where I would be serving.
I didn’t have
much time to let it all sink in and read the booklet because as soon as I
opened it and told some friends, my mom rushed me out the door so we could go
visit my sister in Miami.
On the three hour car ride, the initial shock of being called to the Philippines wore off a little
and I started to realize how serious this was!
I had just gotten my mission call.
I am for real going on a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-Day Saints. I leave on October 10th
and I only have a few months left in Florida!
THIS IS SO CRAZY!
I also had the urge to find the
Philippines turkey from Carriage 309’s United Nations of Turkeys, but realized
it was with Staci Pence, and had an even bigger urge to make a Philippines
turkey. Trapped in a car with the urge
to make a turkey. What do you do? Ignore it, and hope it goes away.
Now that
it’s been a week since receiving my mission call, I have never been surer of my
desire and need to go on a mission.
Everything with my mission papers worked out so quickly and
effortlessly. I had my papers done in a
month, I had all of my physical/medical work done within 3 weeks of coming to
Orlando, and my interviews were done incredibly quickly. My call came after a week and a half of
having the papers submitted and I’m leaving in 4 months. I know so many people who have had to wait
for months upon months to finish their medical papers to be done and to be able
to submit their paperwork. I have been
so incredibly blessed throughout this entire process! It has been such a testimony to me of how
important it is for me to serve a mission.
I know that I am needed in the Philippines, and I know that there are
people there that need me, specifically, to tell them about the restored gospel
of Jesus Christ. I cannot wait to go,
learn, grow, and teach! I am so grateful
for the wonderful support of friends, family, and co-workers who are just as
excited for my mission as I am (even if everyone doesn’t quite understand why
I’m doing it). I love the Church of
Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I
know it is the true and living Gospel of Jesus Christ on the Earth today. I know that I will be serving as a disciple
of Christ in the Philippines and I am so grateful, humbled, and excited for
this opportunity!
For those of you who don’t know
what serving a mission is all about and would like to know more, check out this
website!
No comments:
Post a Comment