This is the second
installment of republishing my mission emails. I have abbreviated names for
privacy’s sake.
Yes, you are allowed to email me, although we are only
allowed to spend thirty minutes logged in (it counts it down), which includes
reading and typing.[1]
Um...where to start on this letter? Thank you for the
package. I honestly don't know what to do with all that candy. My appetite for
sweet things has gone down severely since coming in. I have lost eight pounds between
coming in and the last time I weighed myself, which was Monday. My pants are
way too big and I'm on my last hole on my new belt, and it's a little loose.
Fortunately, my old belt still has plenty of room for me to lose.[2]
As for the extension cord, thanks for that, but we actually
resolved the problem.[3] Another elder in our room
directed us to another outlet by the mirror, which accomodates (that word
doesn't look right--man, I wish they sold dictionaries here)[4] the plug. Upon receiving
the cord, I asked my companion if he would like to move it where we thought it
would go in the first place. He said we could just leave it where it was,
although I think the first place would be more convenient except that's where
we put all of our boxes. My companion is the king of packages.
So, we are enjoying our music, although my companion usually
turns it on and listens to his music. I haven't even listened to the one from J.
yet.[5] By the way, everyone who
comes in is very impressed by my speakers.
I wrote to you (I think) that my companion knows countless
people here. I have met three people (I neglected to tell you these things last
week) I have known. D. B. from our stake and formerly ward, and whom I have
known since kindergarten, is one of our zone leaders. E. S., who was in our
ward years ago, came in the same day we did and is off to Orlando. I greeted
him when I first saw him but I don't really think he remembered me. I've also
met someone I met last year at Y Weekend who is going to Budapest. He
remembered our discussion about split infinitives.[6]
I have made several purchases at the MTC branch of the BYU
bookstore--my first day I got a backpack, flip-flops for the shower, a mini
hymnbook, a notebook, and the hymns on CD. The only thing they don't sell are
dictionaries. The other night we had a health orientation thingy and the
speaker introduced us to amazing health products only sold one place in the
entire world--the MTC. One is a special kind of hand sanitizer that kills germs
for four hours, while most brands only do two minutes.[7] The other is a super
filter water bottle. He said that he tested unfiltered tap water and lake water
that went through the bottle filter, and the lake water was less contaminated.
I bought both of those items (with a replacement filter).[8]
My time on the computer is drawing to a close. Like last
week, I'll also write you a real letter while I'm laundering. That may be
complicated today since my comp and I both have haircuts scheduled during our
laundry time. But we'll figure it out.
I'm sorry this isn't a very coherent letter. I'll try to
redeem myself in my paper letter.
Love,
Elder Richard Mark Melville
P.S. This is my last prep day in the MTC!
[1]
This was in response to my mom’s email asking if she was allowed to email me. I
wonder if the MTC still has the thirty-minute limit?
[2]
I remember calculating that if I kept losing weight at the same rate I did in
the MTC, by the time I came home I would literally be lighter than air. I think
I lost so much weight in the MTC because my first week there, I didn’t feel
like eating, and then it was fast Sunday; and then once I noticed I had lost
weight, I realized I could not eat as much and lose more. Apparently I lived a
ridiculously sedentary life before if I could lose ten pounds in three weeks in
the MTC.
[3]
Referring to the fact that I couldn’t plug in my speakers that my mom’s friend
got me when I left.
[4]
I did later find a dictionary for sale at the MTC. I still have it.
[5]
My mom’s friend also got me a cheap MoTab CD, The Spirit of Christmas. I think she got me these gifts because my
mom guilt-tripped her for not coming to my farewell.
[7]
I did like that hand sanitizer; it was more like a lotion, which I appreciated
when my hands were splitting apart in the winter.
[8]
...I was less enthusiastic about the bottles after I used them. You had to suck
really hard to get the water up. And I was in America, so I didn’t need
filtered water anyway.
