Elder Schroeder's Mission Blog

With the Strength of a Fictional God

Here’s the email: the one you’ve all been waiting for. The email that has kept you sitting in front of your screen refreshing your email for hours on end waiting for it to show up. No, wait, it’s just Elder Schroeder, writing about some snooze tale that’ll send you straight to dream central. But that’s ok, because hopefully you can make it through this email, because not as much happened this week.

But yeah we finally finished with the moving, so we’re gonna be living at this apartment now for another 6 weeks. But some other stuff that we did that don’t make for stories, was: Help people move, cleaned the house up, got to listen to some general authorities and they had some way cool talks, got lost because I’m bad at navigation, and found this rad playground that had a circular swing set that you could swing up to the middle and kick people on.

We tried to find more people to teach, and tried to teach the people we found, but actually quite often this week, they weren’t there or had to cancel on us. Fun stuff.

STORY TIME!

We’re just gonna machine-gun these stories out. So cut back to Tuesday night; we just had dinner with this way cool member and we were laughing and having a good time on the way back. He drops us off at the apartment, and starts to leave. Then Elder Marler does a cheek check, and his expression drops. “My phone. I forgot my phone! Elder!! MY PHONE!!!” So he’s regretting his foolish mistakes, as I start trying to catch up to the car as he’s peeling out of the parking lot. He’s gone. So we have no SIM card, and we still need to coordinate a ride to a meeting we have in an hour. So we’re like, double dutch grab a crutch, and we think that the church might have a phone we can use. So we bike rodeo over to the church in the biting cold, and we start scanning the halls for a phone. No avail. But hope shone brightly, because we heard voices in this meeting room, so we awkwardly poke our heads into this meeting and explain that we need to use someone’s phone. They let us and we call the sisters, who agree to come pick us up for the meeting.

Now, as we all know, I am already the fastest person, but even I was unaware that I was tied for strongest man, alongside Elder Marler. We’re having chicken enchiladas at this person’s house, they’re groovy and we’re having a good time, and I’m cutting through the bottom tortilla that is occasionally harder than the rest of the tortilla, so I start to put in some elbow grease, and through the brute power of my bare hands, I shatter the fork I’m using. It was made of plastic, but if it was metal, I’m quite sure the result would’ve been the same. I take the shards of the fork and just kinda set them to the side of my plate. “Can I have another fork please?” I have to ask. There was no humiliation in my voice, for my vessel was filled with pure, unfiltered power, and I had to do all I could to not terrify the mortals at the table. But little did I know, I was not the only one with the might of Zeus, because Elder Marler also ends up breaking his fork, seconds after I acquire a new utensil for myself. Good to know there’s still a challenge out there for someone like me.

Now cut to the night before the mission tour, which is the big meeting where we heard the important people speak. After driving for an hour and a half, we get to the apartment of the Elders we were gonna be staying with. Elder Quick was the only one that we really talked to, and he said he had to go grab something from the other room. So we start looking around and we find these Nerf guns with the revolving barrels you can pop out of the gun to load the bullets. So Elder Marler is talking about how you can put a bullet into the chamber, cock the gun, and then spin the barrel, flip it closed and fire, and it’s like Russian roulette. So we’re having fun with that little hoot, as Elder Quick enters, stage left. So Elder Marler, with the speed of a bolt of lightning, cocks the gun, spins the barrel, whips it closed, aims at Elder Quick and fires. MADMAN MCGEE MARLER SHOOTS HIM DIRECTLY IN THE EYE. 1 in 6 chance to actually shoot the bullet, 1 in 100 to actually make that shot.

Cut past like, 3 days of nothing crazy, and focus back in on Saturday lunch. I’m heating up some pizza in the oven, and I just put it on a plate and toss it in. After I let it get to the ideal temperature, I grab a hot things mitten and I take it out. Now I love me a glass of milk with any given meal, so I get some milk, grab my plate to go sit down at the table to eat, yes, GRAB MY PLATE TO GO SIT DOWN AT THE TABLE. The grabbing of the plate that had just returned from the volcano ritual it participated in seconds ago. As I grab the lava disk, my brain plays the “Hooked on a Feeling” screaming part throughout my hollow skull and I regret underestimating the power of plates. Not a good time. But cut to later in that same lunch: I’m holding these shin coolers I found in the cooler, and Elder Marler begins to make a burger. I see him put LITERALLY every spice and seasoning we have on this burger before he waterfalls it in hot sauce. It sounds like a broken electrical wire with all the sizzling and crackling that’s emanating from that dinky little pan he had. I get up to clean my dishes and as I enter the Danger Zone my nostrils flare up like the trees in Vietnam and my eyes begin to fill with tears. Any burger that can instantly incapacitate 2 of my 5 senses is one I truly fear. But after the initial blast to my respiratory system, I was able to adjust to the harsh environment of that kitchen. Then Elder Marler realized we don’t have hamburger buns so he puts this chunk of beef on a freakin’ bagel. What is this man.

Thanks for reading this, and I hope you guys all have a great rest of your day!

Over and Out

They Call me Trauma Patient

So I started this email on Monday, and then our internet died at the church because of a MASSIVE wind storm, so President approved saving an hour of our P-day to use another day. Which is today. We have to use the public library and it’s kinda sketchy here. Oh well. I’m only gonna include stuff that happened on the week before, so the stuff that’s been happening on these last two days will be saved for next week’s email. Anyway, here’s the sauce:

Alright fellas, this email isn’t gonna be as action-packed as some of the other ones, but I’ll do my best. Let’s start with the spiritual stuff first. We are teaching a couple different people, and we have two people on date to be baptized, and we’re gonna be asking a third this week. It’s honestly been fun doing missionary work and sharing the gospel with people. But there are highlights to every week, and that’s what we’re gonna talk about now.

Now for those of you that aren’t aware, I’m apparently the fastest man on planet Earth. Because last Monday, when we were leaving the church, we had to turn off the lights, and since everyone here HATES me, they tell me I have to turn off the light alllllllll the way at the end of the hall, so I start to do a little half jog thing, when I hear one of the sisters just utter the word, “Run.” So y’already know that ya boy Elder Schroeder goes from 1st gear into 8th. And I just start SPRINTING. So by the time I’m a little over halfway, I have entered THE SPEEDFORCE, and there is no stopping me from barreling down these halls like Barry Allen. As I’m nearing the end of the hall, I hear voices in a room just near the end. But I can’t stop now, so I just ZIP past the room and turn the light off. Little did I know, Elder Spillman had followed me down, and I saw him as I 180’d after smacking the switch. Now the reason I say I’m the fastest man is because Elder Spillman later told me that the people in the room had called him out for being a “Little boy running down the hall.” Notice, only ONE little boy was getting called out. That’s because I was moving SO FAST that the mortal eye couldn’t even see my image. The only conclusion.

Now some stuff happened in between this first story and the one I’m about to share. However they don’t really make for good stories, so I’m just gonna list off what happened:

• Went to a goat roast and ate some goat
• Mobbed Lawton with 20 missionaries all tracting on different streets
• Got pressured into going to a military training thing

Okay, now that the fluff is outta the way, we move on to the thick of things. The meat. The juicy center. This next story is not for the faint of heart, or weak in mind. On Friday, the sisters asked us if we could come over and help this old lady they were teaching move some stuff around her apartment. So we agree and we all pile in the car and head over there. Once there, the sisters go in and hug her and say hi and all the works, and once they’ve exchanged pleasantries, we elders cruise in. I was foolishly the first one in, and therefore the least prepared. So I go for ‘The Handshake’, a classic move, used to introduce yourself to people you don’t know. However, this was not this lady’s first time traumatizing elders, and it wouldn’t be her last. So she implements ‘The Grapple’, where she grasps my arm, quickly gliding past my open hand and clenching my wrist. Then phase 2 of the Grapple: she pulls me in. I end up getting caught a bit off guard, and I catch myself before I land on her and knock her 6 feet under. But then she hits me with ‘The Rapture’, which is when her frail hands move stupid fast and just apprehend my entire face. When she tries to pull me in this time, I’m ready, halting her plans cold turkey. She keeps trying to pull my head closer, and my mind is still trying to figure out whether she’s going to knight me into the service of Queen Elizabeth’s royal guard, or just take a bite straight out of my neck. The amount of effort she exerted into trying to reel me in probably took 5 years off her life, but I eventually yielded and just accepted my death sentence. Then she of course pulled a classic old lady move, where she just gives me a FAT OL KISS ROIGHT ON MY FOREHEAD. She may have lost 5 years, but I’m pretty sure she just stole 20 from me. I’m guessing that reading through this you figured out that this was her master plan well before the end of the story, but in real time, all this transpired within a span of about 4 seconds, which is why I had so much shock running through my body. So I was still in traumatic horror, as I look at the sisters, who are chuckling at my misfortune like hyenas on laughing gas. The other elders got the same joyride of a time that I did, but they at least had some prep time before getting thrown in the furnace.

You may remember previous emails where I brought up that little girl who kept denying Elder Marler’s gracious offers of gum and cookies. This story is when he finally redeemed himself. In fact, he redeemed himself too well. Lemme explain. We went to the family that was feeding us dinner on Saturday, and we had no clue who they really were, but when we got there, we’re greeted by the whole family, including the Queen of Carnage herself: Little Cindy Lou-Who. I don’t actually remember her name, but it was that little girl. HOWEVER. She remembered us, especially Elder Marler, who she supposedly HATED. But after we hung out with them and talked and stuff, she slowly warmed up to Elder Marler, even to the point of that warming up transforming into BURNING PASSION. We were all gathered around talking and finishing up, when the Princess of Purgatory strolls right up to him, constantly trying to touch him by any means. So Elder Marler is just going full STIFF ARM with a pillow, keeping her at bay, as he’s trying to finish up what he was saying. The time came for us to drop a prayer and dip right outta there. So these next few phrases are WORD FOR WORD accurate. She is still trying to get to Elder Marler, but she says, “Can I tell you a secret?” And Elder Marler is just like, “No we gotta pray.” But she wasn’t going to regard what we had to say from step one, so she just says, in a starstruck fangirl voice, “I love you.” And everyone in the room just kinda heard it, but pretended not to as we said the fastest prayer in history, and made an escape at the speed of a getaway car after a bank heist. Elder Marler was shaken straight to the core, ya know, rattled right to the bones, and has vowed to never have dinner with that family again.

That’s all that really happened this week, and I’ll just include all the stuff that happened Monday through today on next week’s email because I’m running out of time here. Thanks everyone for reading my emails, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t send this sooner.

Over and Out

Cleansing With Hellfire

I’m gonna just start out saying that I probably forgot some events that have happened this past week. I usually just grab my journal, which I write in every night, and bring it to the church on P-day to dump all the information that I have into these emails. But I forgot that journal. So I’m just gonna actually have to remember what happened using my brainpower, which I’m not a fan of. So let’s get this thing rolling, because that means it’s gotta go downhill, as it inevitably will.

These tales of mine will probably be way out of order, but honestly, who cares? Anyone reading this better not. The important thing to know is that we are moving from the house we live in to this wacko apartment place. And that has kinda been a week long process.

Alright we’ll start with: The Hammock.

So of course this starts back at day 1: When we got to the house for the first time. We found that on one of the walls there were these massive holes in them where the previous elders hung up a hammock. Inside the house. So yeah, they just RUINED that wall. So we took the hammock and threw it in the closet. But we then were talking to Sister Christenson, the mission president’s wife, at new missionary follow up (which is gonna be a later story, so grab your lions and tigers and bear with me). But we told her about that hammock and the wall and what we should do since we’re leaving. After hearing all this, Sister Christenson said, and I quote her exact words, “Could you elders please get rid of the hammock?” So we pledged our undying loyalty to getting rid of that hammock.

Now, the house we lived at had a fire pit, so of course every single one of us was ready to purge this thing with hellfire: a baptism of flames sorta ordeal. And so throughout the week, as we’re cleaning out the house, we’re finding things that we need to get rid of and throwing them into the “fire pile”, which was all the things we were gonna burn. Then on that fateful night, which I don’t remember the exact night, because I don’t have my journal, we went out to the fire pit with various chemicals, a couple bottles of lighter fluid that we found, and all the stuff to burn. We practically DROWN this hammock in lighter fluid and after we run the pile of stuff to burn dry, we arrive at the finale. We grasp our soaking wet hammock and drag this thing to the fire pit like we’re getting rid of a body. We lift it up over the fire pit, and just send it in like a package addressed to Satan himself. Oh the inferno that ensued was glorious, and the neighbors probably believed we were in a cult by the way we were chanting, “Sister Christenson, the hammock has been rid from this world!” Fun times.

This next story is just an enlightening experience for me personally, because I became more humble as a man and learned some valuable life lessons. So ya know how on Halloween, you can buy a big bag of candy, and in that big bag, there are those eyeball gums. The ones that you think have the eyeball design on em, but it’s just the wrapper and you feel lied to as you chew on some trashy gum? Yeah, those things. But we got this big ol’ bag of candy from sources we don’t need to get into, and we put all of it into this big red plastic bowl we had at the house. So over the course of time, soon all that’s really left are the stragglers of good candy, and a butt ton of those eyeball gumballs. So of course I’m like, “Ya know what, sure, I’ll have some gum.” And I pop one in, chew the flavor outta it for all of 40 seconds, and then grab another gumball and toss it in. This then sparked the idea: How many of these grody gumballs can I fit in my mouth? So I start piling them in, ball after ball, bite after bite. The wrappers are filling my desk as my jaw is kicking it into TURBO CHOMP MODE and the raw mass of gum proceeds to build. I eventually reach for another gumball from the bowl and find that there aren’t any left. I double check we don’t have more because I KNOW that I have yet to reach my limit. I then take a second to work the gum in my mouth as my spit is just about to ooze straight onto the floor. I throw my head back and retain everything, but my jaw is feeling the hurt from chewing gum for 30 minutes. I announce my victory through my flapping lips as I pull the golf ball sized hunk of gum from my big ol face hole. After I got some water and went through psychological regret, I came back and counted the wrappers. Only 29 gumballs. I could’ve done more, but we had none left. To everyone that is reading this, I formally challenge you to try and fit all the eye gumballs you have left, and if anyone can beat my 29, please email me and tell me your record, so that next Halloween I can SHATTER IT INTO PIECES.

Now as I’ve been writing my email this week, the other missionaries have been harrassing me for writing such long emails, and saying that I will die out of writing long emails. Well I would argue with them if they weren’t all a bunch of chumps, because I will NEVER YIELD to their negative attitudes and Debbie Downer lifestyles. So if you actually read my emails, thank you because I usually make these things LONG AS SOCKS.

This next story needs the background of me finding this big weighted jump rope in the house, and us owning this little wax melter thing. After I had found this rope, I made like old Indiana Jones and begin to crack it back and forth at some boxes we had. Lemme tell ya something: I was on my way to becoming a force of weaponized mayhem, literally tearing holes in boxes with nothing but a whole bunch of thread woven together, when Elder Marler pulled the plug on the fun machine, demanding to see the rope. He grabbed one end of it, expecting me to put up a fight, and ripped it like a Beyblade champion finalist. I just had this really loose grip on the rope and this blur of black carnage flies like a sniper rifle bullet DIRECTLY INTO THE WAX MELTER, SPREADING THAT STUFF LIKE IT’S THE GOOD WORD OF GOD, ALL OVER THE NATION. For some unknown reason, Elder Marler tried to blame me for this disaster, but he knew full well that he was equally to blame, if not more.

This next one isn’t long at all, but basically we carpooled to this thing called “New Missionary Follow-up”, where we have to go and check in with the mission president and listen to some good words of advice. We carpooled with Sister Nakai and Sister Wendt. They’re both home-run missionaries and really cool people, but when you’re on a mission, you like, literally can’t look at sister missionaries for too long, let alone touch them, or you’ll get in trouble. So of course I get thrown under the bus and into the backseat of the car. It was an hour and a half drive up there and that doesn’t sound TOO bad, except I spent most of it doing straight car yoga to avoid being an apostate missionary. It got hard on the way back when both the sisters fell asleep and was just spider-manning onto the window, with my legs arching onto the console. I got a good core workout at least and we had a grand ol’ time up there.

Well I don’t have all the other snooztastic tales of mine within easy access, so I’ll run you through the rough ideas of things I remember. I created a group of individuals that follow and perform acts and have the same ideals called “The Association Organization”, and found all the associated garb that I wore to express things such as honor and humility. Elder Spillman was a part of my group of like minded individuals, but Elder Marler decided to leave in open rebellion and start his own group called “The Dastardly Disassociation Disorganization.” I felt attacked and betrayed, and it took me a bit to recover. After a couple of altercations betwixt the groups, we finally joined hands in alliance and moved past our differences, progressing toward a brighter future.

Then we also had the zone leaders, Elder Martineau and Elder Su’esu’e, come down, because they had a truck and helped us move. We had fun just chillin’ with them for 2 days doing some missionary work and such.

More stuff happened I’m guessing, but this email is REALLY long and I’ll just leave that stuff out. Thanks to any real homies that read my emails all the way through! You’re a cool person and I appreciate it. I’ll email next week and actually remember my journal so it’ll work all good.

I also actually have some pictures and I’ll throw them on here. In no particular order:

• My hand after an unfortunate rope incident
• The Alliance of our groups
• The eyeball gum episode 

Over and out

P.S. So in my mission, there are some sisters that requested getting a shout out in my email. Now if they do something that is worthy of my weekly email, of course they’ll be in them. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen very often, because I see the sisters about once a week for around 3 hours max. But the first shoutout request comes from Sister Nielson. She wanted to be in my email for, literally no particular reason. Actually, she wanted to be put into the email after she found out that Sister Hartman made it into one of my previous emails. But she’s pretty cool and really funny. The Next is Hermana Salazar, who found out about people getting put into my emails, and asked to be as well. So she is awesome and came straight from Mexico, completely skipping the MTC. We usually end up going shopping with her and her companion Sister Benesch because we have to share a car with them. Then Sister Howcraft wanted to join the bandwagon, and so she’ll be in this email as well. She’s the nice one that doesn’t throw shade with us elders, which is a good break from the others. Then Sister Keller, who goes home in like a week and a half. She asked to be in the email, then said some unkind remarks about my emails, and I threatened to take her off the list. But lucky for her, she redeemed herself for the first and last time. She’s the one that makes the most jabs at the elders, but it’s all some fun jokes in the end. That’s all for the shoutouts, and I’ll catch ya next week.

The Slammening

We’re just gonna pick up where the last email ended, on that fateful P-day. We didn’t know we would experience so much loss just hours later. So after we finished emails, I went to the gym and we all watched a mission-approved movie and played some fun games. This leads to the first loss: the loss of my right shoulder.

So we played a game called pod ball which I’m not gonna explain right now, but basically, I was going for the ball, Sister Hartman was going for the ball, and Elder Harrison was going for the ball. Now, Elder Harrison is not the smallest of people, and when he gets running, there are few things that can stop him. And in this case, the ball bounces over by the wall, I’m going for it, parallel to the wall, running towards Sister Hartman. And Elder Harrison was coming dead at the wall. So I get to the ball, look to my left, and see my imminent demise, charging at me with the force of 10 freight trains. Sister Hartman did the smart thing and bailed out of what I have deemed “The Slammening.” So she made it out without an ER trip which is good, but meanwhile I was being turned into a HUMAN ACCORDION all Looney Tunes style. Imagine an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, with me in the middle. That’s what it felt like. So then my shoulder felt like it was broken for about, well, it still hurts, just not as much.

Then on this same day, we lost even more. We were doing exchanges up in Wichita Falls, TX, because it’s in our mission for some reason. But we pack up for the next day, throw our bikes on the back, and make way. It’s dark out and as we’re pulling into the city, Elder Marler makes the joke, “Imagine if one of the bikes fell off.” And Elder Spillman looks back, looks at us, looks back, and then back to us. “My bike’s gone.” And I’m in the front seat like, “Oh funny funny Elder Spillman, you got us good.” But then he’s like, “No. SERIOUSLY, my bike is gone.” So as it turns out, his bike was somewhere on the road from where we came from. We still don’t know what to do, but he’s got a loaner bike right now, and we’re trying to get him a real bike. But we got up there and chilled at Elder Su’esu’e and Elder Martineau’s house. The next day we did exchanges and Elder Spillman, Elder Su’esu’e and I went out together, and Elder Marler and Elder Martinaeu went out together. Now, Elder Su’esu’e is about exactly what you think when you hear his name, a 6-foot Samoan missionary with huge muscles. Might be related to the Rock. But yeah, we went out and had a good time with him, which leads into the next story.

We were tracting together and this truck drives up to us, there are these two ladies in there and they’re just like, “Hey you guys! We’re having this fish grilling party over in this back yard, we got a ton a fish, a ton of beer, a ton of whiskey, we’re grillin a turtle…” And we were just kinda like, “Ayo hold up. You’re GRILLING a TURTLE??” but we told ’em we would think about it. I personally wanted to hit that place up, try some turtle, and start spreading the good word because if anyone needed to hear about Jesus, it would be the turtle grillers. But we didn’t return. Then we drove back that night and went to bed at like 11.

Now this next story sheds some light on why I believe Elder Marler is actually the most powerful person on this mission. So we were getting a ride home from the sisters, and there was this little dot on the ceiling of the car, and Hermana Salazar asks, “Is that a spider?” And Elder Marler is just like, “Yeah.” And goes towards it with his hand. He pokes it and it falls DIRECTLY onto Sister Benesch, who starts asking, “Where’s the spider?? WHERE’S THE SPIDER?!” To which Elder Marler replies by simply getting out of the car, grabbing his bag and walking towards the house. When the sisters call out in anguish to him about why he did that, he just states, without turning back, “I gotta go.” And I was just struck in this dumbfounded awe, as I watch this man’s raw power exceed mortal limits. And Elder Marler leads into the NEXT story.

So we went to our ward’s Fall Festival, which is just a Halloween-like party. But we ended up having to hand out candy as the kids came around and took it from us. So near the end, I only had 2 pieces of gum left, so I took them out of the bag, and threw the empty bag at Elder Marler. Then this little girl came up and asked for a piece of gum, to which Elder Marler had to reply, “I’m sorry I don’t have any gum.” And she just went straight for his bloodline and said, “You’re a big meanie.” And walked away. Elder Spillman and I tried to comfort him about the loss of his will to live. When he found out I still had pieces of gum, he SNATCHED a piece from me and went on his quest of redemption. After we concluded the manhunt, and had found this little girl, he attempted round two and offered her the piece of gum, asking, “Am I still mean?” And this savage little girl stares into his soul and just says, “Yes.” And then kicks out. Sweet glory, pray for our brother, for he has died a thousand deaths. Now, cut to Sunday, when Elder Marler had me make cookies for him to give out. He had a few left and he sees the same little girl, chilling in the foyer. So he goes for redemption: round three. And offers an entire group of kids there cookies. ALL OF THEM TAKE ONE EXCEPT FOR THAT SAME GIRL WHO SHUTS MY MAN DOWN LIKE A BLOWN OUT POWER GRID. He says he gives up, but sees her 15 minutes later in the parking lot and you know, he tries his round four approach, asking her if she’s sure she doesn’t want a cookie. And as we know, history repeats itself, and he gets TURNED DOWN LIKE A BOOMBOX VOLUME KNOB AFTER ENTERING A FUNERAL BY ACCIDENT. Elder Marler is either more powerful than the combined manpower of the entire US military, or he has absolutely nothing left but the shards of his shattered ego.

Now this is kinda a side note, but I’ve been lifting this 20 pound dumbbell every chance I get at home. So I’m just sorta living in a constant state of bicep soreness, and it hit me that, if I keep this up for the rest of my mission, I’ll actually get some muscles, but I will spend the rest of my mission with sore arms. Which I’m good with, so long as I actually get some guns.

Other than these crazy times, we’ve been having a lot of fun and success on the mission. We’re teaching people, trying to find more, and have two people that are gonna get baptized! All these blessings are making my life easier. And if anyone reading this didn’t catch that I was moving, I am. This Friday. So don’t send stuff to the address I put in an older email. Thanks for all the support and I’ll be sure to try and make these emails at least bearable to read through.

Over and Out

Dr. Spillman, the Mad Chemist

Heyo! It’s been a more eventful week this time, and I hope I don’t put you all to sleep with my bore-tastic emails. That’s a made-up word but spellcheck doesn’t stop me. Then again, it never did. Anywho, this past week has been a grand ol’ time. We spend almost every day meeting new people in the church, meeting with and teaching people that are interested, and tracting houses.

An important thing that I need to bring up is that in Oklahoma, there are Okie-talkers. Okie-talkers are people from Oklahoma that, to put it nicely, DON’T SHUT UP. Straight up they will just ramble on and on and on, making sure that for the majority of the conversation, they are talking. It’s a literal struggle to interject anything. You have to basically wait like you’re having an old West duel at high noon. The MILLISECOND they give you a gap, you just gotta shoot for it. 9 times outta 10 they don’t give 2 hoots that you want to communicate, and will just keep talking, but sometimes, the heavens will part and angels will come down and just clamp their flapping lips shut long enough to teach them another 3% of the lesson. Luckily not everyone is like that, and fall into some level of Okie-talk that is below that. But still, you will ask people questions about what they think of what we just taught them and then it’s like a time warp and we end up with someone telling us how he once accidentally adopted a flock of doves. It’s a wild place here.

Another great thing is the wind. There are no mountains, and I’m pretty sure this is the birthplace of all flat-Earth theorists out there. There is nothing as far as the eye can see. And that’s where the wind comes in. Have you ever had to pedal harder, just so you can go DOWNHILL? Well, we get to do that, EVERY SINGLE DAY YEEHAW. But then there are times when you just evolve into a human kite because the wind is rocketing you across the cosmos.

There are also people here that we call “Bible Bashers” and they have no intention of listening to your message and do all they can to try to put you down and prove you wrong. It’s like arguing with a 6-year-old. They say something that doesn’t make sense, out of context, and then refuse to listen to the explanation. But yeah, so I got bashed and that was a fun time. Won’t be the last time, either.

Also, Oklahoma people here are like, all ex-military. We were getting a ride from this 80-something-year-old veteran and he just casually brings up being a special ops agent. Like. Bruh?? Then the times he almost missed the helicopter out of enemy territory and would’ve been tortured for information. Also was a prisoner of war for 7 years. And then goes on to say how hard missionary work is. And we’re just like, “Homie, you straight nearly died on a DAILY BASIS; missionary work looks like planting roses next to that. Sure there are hard times, but we’re not about to die in those hard times.”

But that leads into my next story, where we were getting dinner with this cool member in the ward. We ask him what he does, and by the end we had learned he was an ex-military nurse hypnotist engineer. But anywho, we’re sitting there and Elder Marler and I are on one side and he’s doinking around and dipping his straw in ranch, and then wiping the ranch off on the ice cubes in his cup. And then, Elder Spillman got a bloody nose. He gets them quite a lot, which really sucks for him, but nothing too far out of the ordinary. So naturally, the nurse guy was like, “Take this napkin, get it wet, and put it up your nose.” UNFORTUNATELY for Elder Spillman, he chose to dip his napkin in the glass of water that HAD THE RANCH. So Elder Marler and I are just chilling in our front row seats of the show, watching Elder Spillman rubbing his napkin in ranch and water. And then once he got it all ranched up, he proceeds to SHOVE THE RANCH NAPKIN ROIGHT UP HIS SNIFFER! To this day he doesn’t know that was what happened.

Then this other time we were biking around and Elder Spillman got another bloody nose, so we go to this rando house and knock on the door. This big guy wearing shades answers the door, and just asks, “You guys got my food?” And of course we’re like, “Not quite, we’re just looking for some napkins or something to help his bloody nose.” And then his response after he JUST heard us say that is, “Yeah you can just bring it in and put it on the counter.” So we have to run the facts by him AGAIN so he understands that the three guys wearing white shirts and ties aren’t delivering his pizza. This guy was either a blind and partially deaf old man, or HIGH AS A KITE. And we still don’t know which one it is. But he did give us paper towels, which was very generous.

Now I’ll only include one more story because this email is getting LANKY. So this story starts out like any mission story from any Elder does, with one of their companions finding a rusty machete. Elder Spillman had found this serial killer lookin’ blade THING out in the fire pit at our house, and brought it inside. He didn’t like that it looked so ghetto, so he decided to clean off the rust and make it a new handle. The handle was basically wrapping medical tape around it, and it turned out not too bad, but then it came time to clean the blade. Elder Spillman likes blades and knows quite a bit about them, but when it comes to cleaning them, he is, shall we say, lacking. So he announces that he’s gonna clean it and goes to find stuff in the garage. I see him come back through, arms full, and hurry into the bathroom. I was half paying attention because I was writing in my journal at the time, but from what I glimpsed, I saw bleach, Tide laundry detergent, and lighter fluid. But when I see my companion enter a small, enclosed space (like a bathroom) with two of the three ingredients to make mustard gas, you kinda start to worry. So I sneak a peek as to what he’s making in there, and I look in and see him with a sliced-open hand warmer packet in his hand. I ask him if he actually KNOWS how to clean a rusty blade, and he’s just got the power of optimism, bravery, and stupidity on his side as he admits to never having done this before in his life. So I just leave, because I’m writing in my journal already, and I’m not gonna stop him, so I might as well just start on my will that same night. But 30 seconds after Alfred Nobel has started the concoction of catastrophe, it started to smell like someone was smoking exhaust pipe fumes. So I’m just like, “Yeah, no.” And booked it outta there while wishing Elder Spillman the best of luck. After a good two minutes of journal writing, he emerges from his laboratory, with his various chemicals, simply returning them to the garage. He goes back and closes the door and takes a seat on his bed, going about business as usual. When I ask how well it works, he just said it didn’t and we accepted that as truth and didn’t go back into that room until the next day.

I don’t know if I talked about this, but our toilet will just, SCREAM for 30 seconds after you flush it all Moaning Myrtle style.

Shoot golly, this email is really long, sorry for that, but thanks for all the support, and I’ll be moving soon, so don’t send me any packages. I hope you guys all have a great time doing whatever it is that you’re doing, and I’ll keep doing what I do.

Over and Out

The Dynamic Trio

Yes, I am indeed in a trio. So instead of 1 companion, I get 2! Whoop to the dee do! And it’s actually quite a whoop-able moment because Elder Marler and Elder Spillman are both really awesome.

Elder Spillman:

• Gets slices of turkey stuck on top of the room fan
• Sings Disney songs in the shower
• Practiceshis old competitivedances
• Plays the bass ukulele, which is like a regular ukulele but with strings that are STUPID thick
• Used to have mutton chops
• Legit looks like Agent Coulson from Marvel movies

Elder Marler:

• This man lives and thrives off willpower
• Has some of the GNARLIEST quotes I’ve ever heard
• He freakin says “Hot dawg” unironically
• His voice is like a combination of Kronk and an 80-year-old sports announcer
• Watches the same TV shows I did

They’re seriously awesome and I’m glad they’re my companions. Now that that’s outta the way, let’s talk about my week. As far as my usual weeks go, it was pretty dull. I’ll start with landing in Oklahoma, where we met the mission president. He’s old but acts pretty young. So then we loaded up bags and went to the mission home. Signed a wall with all the other OOCM missionaries. (Oklahoma, Oklahoma City Mission) The name is just a waste of time to try and say, so we shorten it to that. Slept there, the day was just blegh.

But then tomorrow, we got up and went to the church. Listened to president talk and then we went to the gym and got our companions. Drove for an hour and a half to the place we’re serving: Lawton 2: Electric Boogaloo. Minus the electric and boogaloo parts. Out of the three of us, nobody had served in Lawton, so we had no clue what we were getting into. We spent the first two days getting through meetings and getting the stuff we needed, and then we met with some people in the ward and tracted a few houses. Tracting is where you just go up and knock on the door and talk to them about the church. Had dinner with some people from the church, and just did some work. Served at this military base called Fort Sill, where we made the troops there breakfast and stuff. The fun stuff only really happens when the three of us can do what we want. And now we talk about the fun stuff.

Up to this point in the email it hasn’t been as interesting as I was hoping it would be, but let’s try and fix that right now o’clock.

So, when we first got to the house, we saw that the missionaries that used to live there left us some stuff. So it became a full on gladiatorial arena, with every man for himself. There was blood, sweat, tears, and pain. Friendships made and alliances broken. After the chaos died down, we each had our own bounties. I had managed to snag the best of the best, which was a pillow, a suit coat, my “Let’s get nauti” shirt, some Christmas mints, Nerf guns and an hourglass. Except it measures in 30 minute increments. Yes I’m taking that with me everywhere I go on my mission. And then we get to the best thing I commandeered in this old shack we live at. So, we saw that the old elders that used to live here threw out some bedding stuff on the top of the trash, and when we were taking beds, I realized I only had sheets for my bed. So I was like, “Yo. I bet you they threw out a blanket. And I’m gonna take that blanket.” And thus we ventured out to the trash can and made like raccoons. And in our efforts, we were rewarded. So, much like King Arthur, I pulled my newfound “Dumpster Blanket” straight outta the trash can triumphantly. Then we made like ER paramedics and rushed that thing to the washing machine. We had about 5 cups of laundry juice left over from the other elders that lived there, so I WATERBOARDED my blanket with every drop I could get outta that thing. Kicked the washer into MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE and just prayed that it could not have 387 different diseases on it. Moved it to the dryer and could HEAR that poor thing just WEEPING as it spun the cloth of catastrophe in it. But yeah, it ended up coming out squeaky clean. It’s like Mjolnir, you have to be worthy in order to not die while sleeping in it. But it is actually clean and it was on TOP of the sheets in the trash. So it was most likely in there for half a day, although I still washed it like I needed to purge devils out of it.

Then another time we were walking back to catch a ride from the sisters in our district and this guy smoking in the front of his house came up to us. So one thing lead to another and… we ended up grabbing hands in a circle as he cried whilst Elder Marler read his Bible notes. Fun times were had by all.

Some other stuff that happened was: Getting Mardi Gras necklaces from this old lady in our ward, my bike tire popping on day 2, me having to purge these goons all Terminator 2 style with my Nerf gun, and getting Elder Marler a pink and white unicorn pillow that says “Believe”.

This email is getting long and I don’t have much to talk about anymore. Sorry it wasn’t as exciting as other ones, but hopefully we can get some crazy things to happen this next week. Also, I can no longer read emails throughout the week, so I have to cram all the reading and writing into Mondays. Thanks for the emails guys, and I’ll try to be more exciting.

Over and Out

Elder Marler:

Elder Spillman:

The pillow:

My hourglass:

My bed and dumpster blanket:

The necklaces:

Killin’ Time

We’re now waiting for our flight to OK City and we’ve got nothing to really do. Better add some spice to all y’alls boring lives. (Another joke, again, don’t get mad at me!) I’ll probably tell you about things I forgot to in the past emails. But that’ll be after I talk about the trek of getting here.

Let’s start with GETTING UP AT 3:30 AM. Which was, as the kids say, a doozy. So we trudged out of bed, grabbed our things, and made it to the checkout. Eventually boarded a bus and then got to a train station. Took the train to another, smaller train, and then we were at the airport.

I was sitting across from these two sisters on the first train and they were cool, but one saw my last name and asked, “Do you happen to know a Zach Schroeder?” And I’m just like, “Well of course I know him, he’s me.” But I was spooked when she just GUESSED my first name.

As far as stories go, let’s just go right ahead and expose Elder Archer for the thriving chaos he left with me. I’ll explain. Elder Archer was being himself, and talking in his sophisticated voice and was saying, “You know, I’ve got quite the 5 o’clock shadow” as he strokes his chin real slow like. And I just respond with, “That’s neat buckaroo” But THEN this fool is like, “Want to feel it?” And GRABS MY FACE AS IF WE’RE ABOUT TO EXCHANGE KISSES and proceeds to AGGRESSIVELY RUB HIS TINY FACE HAIRS ON MY POOR UNSHELTERED CHEEK. Weeks of therapy, and I probably still won’t recover. Now when someone brings up 5 o’clock shadows I’m gonna flinch. But ya know what Elder Archer, at least you replaced that hint of fear with traumatic, lifelong terror. More power to ya. Actually if he had any more power you would probably quake in his presence.

And if we’re exposing people we GOTTA talk about what Sister Jones does. You may think a refreshing beverage is something like a glass of ice water with not one, but two lemons, but not Sister Jones. THIS PSYCHOPATH DRINKS THE UNHOLY ELIXIR THAT IS SODA WATER. Ya know, the mixture that consists of carbonation, water, and probably THE SWEAT RIGHT OFF SATAN’S BACK. It is NASTY. You’ve probably tried it if you’ve ever gotten Sprite and you take a swig but it doesn’t taste right, and it ends up making your soul run laps around your body. But of course, I am a man of raw strength. So it inevitably came down to me having to taste this for myself, ya know, to keep me living in CONSTANT PAIN. Because that’s how you grow as a person. So I fill up the paper cup with the bane of all taste bud happiness, and journey back to the table. I inform Sister Allen that I will, and I quote, “Make no facial expression at all” And remember, I end up making faces when I just talk. So as I bring the clear beverage of horror to my quaking lips, I can hear every guardian angel in a four-block radius begging me to stop as the grim reaper just rests his hand on my shoulder and I

Begin
To
Drink.

I simultaneously feel all 7 stages of grief in a matter of milliseconds and I just keep on drinking. By the time I had transported this carbonated vinegar to my stomach, I turn to Sister Allen, and like a kid on Christmas, my eyes begin to tear. “Why Santy Claus, why?” echo the words of regret in my head as I suck those tears back into my skull. There is no place for weakness at the MTC. I was fool for believing that I could take on the burden of pain that is soda water. But shout out to Sister Jones, who can somehow get joy out of that. And I won’t leave Sister Jones in a questionable light of moral sketchiness. She’s awesome and it’s always a good time to poke fun at her. Keep sneezing on, my sniffly friend.

That’s gonna be all for now. I’ll email next week with more of my dull, uneventful life. As always, thanks for the support and I’ll keep being me.

Over and Out

Don’t Tell President Dahl

President Dahl is my district president and technically our P-day is tomorrow, but I’m leaving at 4:30am so I’m gonna write my email today.

Shoot, what happened this week. Everything was the same as usual but as for the interesting things, we had Elder Spens become the VOLLEYBALL TERMINATOR when he almost took Sister Richardson’s head clean off. Twice. And then he also just SAILED the ball into this poor Sister at volleyball.

Then on P-day last time, we forgot Elder Farley’s laundry until around 9:30, and I eventually coaxed him into sprinting there barefoot with me.

Ah and of course, for those of you who are not aware, Sister Jones has these “sneeze attacks”, where she sneezes a bunch of times in a row. She once had a run of 25 sneezes. In a row. And ladies and gentlemen, I am INVIGORATED to share that on Thursday, October 3rd, 2019, Sister Brooklynn Jones graced us with 27 CONSECUTIVE SNEEZES!! A monumental moment in history and one we soon won’t forget. Godspeed Sister Jones, godspeed.

In the MTC they have this record board with all the records on it, and Elder Horner has been working on beating it. It’s 125 push-ups without dropping, and Elder Horner went for it. 111 is where that titan of a man had to bend his knee to gravity. A valiant effort, my brother.

Then Sister Jones sucker punched Sister Garlick smack dead in the thinker. She needs to stop with all the physical altercations.

General Conference was Saturday and Sunday and they made us all sit in the bleacher seats in the gym, and if you’ve ever been stuck in one of those abominations that shouldn’t even be called chairs for 2 hours, you can catch a glimpse of what it’s like to be paralyzed from the waist down. Spiritually filling, but physically draining. Also on Sunday we foolishly thought they would have sack breakfast like every other day in the week, but alas, we did not prevail. So we just didn’t eat breakfast really. We scavenged for snacks in our room, but they weren’t really good.

We’re gonna circle back to the bleachers because whatever ENLIGHTENED MIND designed those things put 7 ROW SEATS, ALL UP AND DOWN THAT HUNK OF FUN. And for those that aren’t aware, 95% of the time you are a COMPANIONSHIP so there’s TWO of you sitting together. 7 seat rows? Sweet goodness. But anywho, the 6 sisters were in one row and the 7 other elders in another. Just the right number for our district, happy day. So I drop a seat next to Sister Jones and the entourage of sisters and wait until we get started. Then this guy whose sole job is making sure seats are all being filled is like, “Elder, where’s your companion?” And he speaks as if he is gonna die at any moment, where the words are like, drooling out of his gaping jaw. And it’s one of those questions that you already know is gonna lead to a lecture, but I play that old man’s silly games and point to Elder Farley a few seats down on the row behind me as I’m like, “Right there”. Then ya know, he leans in a bit closer, to really let me taste that ham and cheese he had for lunch, and says, “You should probably find a different seat so you can sit with your companion. There are some empty ones on the other side of the gym so you two can sit there in a stony silence as you get to watch the rest of your district have a fun time getting spiritually enlightened and all you get to do is weep in your sorrow for trying to sit with your friends, you oaf.” Not exactly like that, but the seats were a good saunter away from where we were. Then he left and we did exactly what you’d expect me to do: ignore him entirely. Well, not really. Farley sat behind me so then I was at least within slapping distance from him, and we called it good. Then ANOTHER guy came by, who asked the same passive-aggressive question as to the whereabouts of my companion. So I point DIRECTLY behind me to Elder Farley, who gives a little wave. Then he’s like, “You should sit next to your companion, because it looks like you’re on a date with her, and we wouldn’t want that now, would we” while pointing at Sister Jones, who busts out laughing. Took a little emotional damage, but I’m just like, “No we wouldn’t”. So we finally shuffleboard around so that it’s 3 elders and 4 sisters in one row, and 2 sisters and 5 elders in the other. Fun times. But listening was good and got quite a lot out of it.

We’ve all been saying goodbye to our district because half of them are leaving today. So it’s a rough time.

Thanks again to everyone that has been emailing me and giving me that DRIVE to keep up the work. I’ll email next week with how the mission field is.

Over and Out

Meet the Gang

This week has also been a blast. We have our district of 14 people: 8 elders and 6 sisters. I’ll include stories but other than that, not much has really happened out of the ordinary. It’s really just: wake up, exercise, shower, study, lunch, class, TRC, dinner, class, bed. 3 hours of studying and 6 hours of classes. Luckily our class teachers are radical. Sister Rogers is like 5 foot nothing but she’s really sweet and is all “you guys are gonna be such great missionaries” and then our other teacher, Brother Draper, is like the most hyper man on the face of the planet. Imagine a living energy drink with the drive to share the gospel. Despite him having NEVER had caffeine. Ever. I always just thought that man chugged a thing of Red Bull, crushed the can against his head, and stormed the classroom like a D-Day beach. But I guess he’s just always got absurd energy. They’re both spiritual and it’s really awesome– I couldn’t ask for better teachers.

But rather than rant about how Sister Rogers is low key in a gang and Brother Draper performs LITERAL MIRACLES in class, I wanted to focus on my district. We’ve all grown really close and honestly, they get me through the day. I don’t know which one of these clowns has the picture with all of us in it, but it’s like 8:30 right now, so if I can, I’ll send a follow up email with all the people in our district. Let’s get to it:

Elder Miller: Our district leader and a really great guy. He’s laid back and he lets us do fun stuff when we have time to kill in class. He makes sure everyone is heard and cared for. He said, and I quote, “I got that grandma vibe”. And he really does. Like he squeezed Elder Blades’ cheeks the other day (that man has the stretchiest cheeks I’ve ever seen), but it’s also because he cares about all of us. Even though we roast the ever living snot outta him at every possible moment.

Elder Blades: My theory for him is the MTC gave him PTSD and he developed bipolar from it. Like he seriously is either making gorilla sounds while slamming the basketball into the ground with his head, or he’s telling us that we really need to focus and he can’t concentrate. In either mode, he’s really cool and actually hilarious. He says something random, but 9 times outta 10, it just KILLS me. I would give examples but they gotta have his signature wide-eye monotone expression with them. He’s great.

Elder Farley: You’ve heard of him before, but I’ll talk about him anyway. You can’t stop me. He’s a beatboxing fanatic still, and sometimes randomly talks like Gollum, which is like, seriously terrifying when I’m just about to fall asleep and then the bunk bed demon says something and my heart has to go through relapse in order to get started again. He’s a bit of a nerd, but it’s all good– he’s still a great guy.

Elder Spens: This is a homie. Elder Spens is way cool even though he wears freakin’ cowboy boots on P-day and likes country music, which, I’m still boggled about how human ears can enjoy that horror. But who cares, ‘cuz he can’t listen to it here and I don’t have to hear it. We’re learning hacky sack and I’m not gonna lie, we’re getting better at it. We also work out together every night before bed, which still is leaving both of us six-pack free. He’s a good person to talk to about stuff and is the reason I’ll be working out for the next 2 years.

Elder Archer: A recent convert to the church, but like, he’s way cool. He’s extremely calm under any situation and has become more lax on enforcing the rules like a dictator. But I still love that elder. He’s the guy that is really spiritual, but also makes occasional jokes, that can be a hoot. He’s still really smart and only has a year left in college when he gets back, and I’m gonna miss him in a week.

Elder Horner: He’s the wild one. Straight up. He’s the one that makes pterodactyl noises in the dorm and climbs on the dresser. Story time: It was Wednesday and the new peeps got here. So these 2 poor, innocent souls come walking into their residential building, get to floor 2, still a bit confused and scared and they turn the corner, locking and maintaining eye contact with Elder Horner, who has climbed up the hallway walls by pushing his hands and feet against either side and working his way up. Those poor children. Get these boys some therapy. But he’s still really cool and can be surprisingly spiritual at times.

Elder Birmingham: He’s the opposite of Elder Horner and his unfortunate companion. He is quite quiet and doesn’t really crack jokes, but he’s like Po from Mulan. He’s a real nice guy and you can tell that sometimes he really needs a sanity break. But he’s really great.

Sister Jones: She’s a hoot. She’s really funny and is just great company. She’s keeping a quote book with all the good quotes she hears from us, and refuses to let the elders see it. She’s one of 3 sisters teaching me sign language because they are just, fluent in it for some reason. Super cool and is very friendly and spiritual.

Sister Field: She’s a bit on the quiet side, but she’s also super sweet. The second of the 3 sisters that are teaching me ASL. She is really calm and collected, and just kinda has this aura of peace. Like some type of guru monk. Just a really awesome sister.

Sister Richardson: She’s apparently my 3rd cousin and that’s fun. She’s also the third sister teaching me, so maybe I’ll become fluent in a week. (Not likely) But she’s really funny and almost died yesterday because she started laughing while trying to drink whatever it was that she had in her glass. Another really sweet sister and all in all a great person.

Sister Allen: A straight up bookworm and scriptorian. She knows like 80% of the verses in the Book of Mormon and has probably read half the books mankind has written. She’s really spiritual and helps out all the time with telling us where to find good scriptures we can use. Also really sweet, just like every other sister.

Sister Garlick: She’s really tall and really quiet. But when you talk to her she seems really laid back and stuff. I don’t know all that much about her because she doesn’t open up, but she’s for sure spiritual and cool.

Sister Hansen: She’s really short and really quiet. She doesn’t say all that much, but she loves to smile and laugh. She’s also got that grandma vibe, as well as a spiritual side. Also doesn’t open up much, but she’s great.

Now that this letter is looking like a Star Wars intro, I’ll keep writing because none of you reading this have anything to do with your time besides give me attention. (That’s a joke, please don’t get mad at me) I’m still having the trippiest dreams ever that make no sense but are really fun. My friend Conner wanted me to keep a dream journal, and as dorky as that sounds, that spiral notebook contains basically all the answers of my subconscious. Also learned that Sister Jones has super wack dreams and we ended up spending all of lunch one day talking about them.

Also: at the end of every meal, we all crumple our napkins and try to sink them in other people’s glasses. Elder Miller made the distance shot all the way across the table one time, but I’ve got height. Lemme explain. I was sitting across from Elder Miller at lunch and I just deadstare him right in the eyes. I just hurl the napkin straight up into the air, and after a second and just DRAINS right into his cup. Oh man it was glorious.

Then another day this week I got Froot Loops (sorry Mom, this story will make you weep), but I forgot milk. And I didn’t want to just eat dry ol’ Froot Loops, so I asked Elder Spens if he had some milk. He was like, “I got some Sprite, will that work?” Now….. If you know me…. y’already KNOW where this story is going. So of course I was like “SEND IT” and poured the Sprite into the cereal. Not the worst thing though.

Then on Saturday for exercise time, we went to the field and the grass was wet, so Sister Jones ended up slipping and flailing her arms about, which inevitably found their way right into Elder Miller’s jaw, causing him to bite his lip and start bleeding. Nobody messes with Sister Jones now. Nobody.

But it’s been great here. It might as well be McDonalds, because I’m lovin’ it. Keep sending me emails, and I’ll try to keep being me. Thank you all for the support and I’ll write again in probably 2 weeks, because this next Tuesday will be the day I fly out to Oklahoma, and they probably won’t give me another P-day. Also if any of you have pictures of me, please send them– the rest of the district wants to see what I looked like before I was Elder Schroeder. Thanks again!

Over and Out

And I’ll throw in some pictures I have here:

The district:

Elder Miller:

Elder Blades:

Elder Horner:

Elder Archer:

Elder Farley:

Elder Spens:

The picture that will get me an engineering scholarship:

The cool ring I got:

My masterpiece:

Dale:

The creepiest sign I’ve ever seen:

Week one in the land of no fun

First off, that’s a lie. It is pretty fun here; it’s just in the missionary handbook it tells us that we aren’t allowed to tell jokes here. Which ends up making that request a joke itself. Anywho, for everyone that doesn’t know what’s been going down in bean town, I flew out the Salt Lake, Kyra picked me up, we drove and met Alex at Outback and had some good lunch, went to the MTC, said bye, and then I’ve just kinda been going.

At first it was just terrifying how happy everyone was to see me, “Elder Schroeder! WELCOME to the MTC! We’re SO GLAD you’re here!” And I’m just trying to figure how this dude could hold out with that mood for 6 hours a day. But I met my guide, totally forgot his name, sorry man, and got like 30 papers. Naturally I just shoved everything into my pockets and moved on.

Then I met my companion: Elder Farley. He’s pretty cool, but he’s quite the opposite of me. He has ADHD, but who cares, he’s out here serving a mission, good on him. But he loves Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, band, and any other nerdy thing you could think of. Probably. But he’s still a great guy. My only real complaint is that he beatboxes. Like, everywhere. Hope y’all ready for this story right out of the gate: I was going to the bathroom and I hop in the stall on the far left. There are 4 of them. Literally nobody else in the bathroom, and I hear it. That beatboxing. He closes in for the kill. Choosing the stall IMMEDIATELY next to mine, he proceeds to say “Hey Elder! How ya doing?” Now…… there are some things you just don’t do in bathroom stalls. And greet the guy next to you is one of them. After I just manage to get out the “good” with the horrified expression on my face, he BRINGS THAT FUNKY BEAT BACK AND PROCEEDS TO BEATBOX IN THE BATHROOM STALL AT FULL VOLUME. So I got out stat and went back to our dorm.

Now, I don’t hate his beatboxing, and I don’t love it, but like, time and a place, elder. Walking to class outside, I’m not moovin for a groovin, but like, it’s an acceptable place. When we’re walking past a companionship teaching a mock investigator, not as much. So I just try to like ask him a question or say something when he’s in the middle of breaking down that vibe, just so he stops and we don’t disturb people. But I can’t complain. He’s still a cool dude.

Now that you’ve met my companion and have been scarred with that thriving tale, let’s continue. We went through all the orientation things, which almost knocked me out because I was so tired, and it was really just them saying how proud they were of us. But then we went to class and I almost didn’t make it. Like reality would kinda just fade and I would have to make myself not tap out.

Then we ran into this elder that couldn’t find his companion, so we became a temporary trio. His name was Elder Walker. He was quiet and he didn’t really know much about him. Then at dinner I ran into Derek Howells, who was my friend in high school until he moved away after sophomore year. He’s going to Idaho falls for his mission.

More orientation stuff for the next few days, as well as getting into classes and such. Also day 2 we got locked out of our room cuz we all forgot to bring keys to the shower. Never did that since. Should probably introduce my roommates: We got Elder Archer and Elder Spens. Elder Archer is very cut-and-dry go-by-the-book kinda guy, but he’s honestly a really cool elder. Elder Spens has this country vibe to him, but he’s also really great. I’ll be sure to tell you more stories about them. We’re also the only elders on our district that are on the 4th floor, everyone else is on the 2nd. But every night before we go to bed, Elder Spens and I work out for like 15 minutes. SO LADIES: Elder Schroeder gonna be comin back RIPPED. I hope.

Moving on, we had more class and then study time. Now we got another story on the docket, ladies and gents. Elder Farley and I were looking for a place to study, and we found these dinky chairs next to a desk. So we sat down and got to it. After around 30 minutes I stretched really far back in my chair and drooped over the back part like spaghetti. Keep in mind I had just spent half an hour hunched over like Igor reading the missionary handbook. So once I stretched, it legit felt like my soul left my body. I hit THE GNARLIEST STRETCH that I ever have. After losing all the blood in my head, I felt like I had a glimpse of all mankind’s knowledge, before it was ripped away from me and I was slapped in the face by the universe. I couldn’t see for a few seconds after going back to sitting normal, and I just hung around in this state of void. So yeah.

After a few days our district (all 14 of us) started hanging out at meals and during exercise time. We’re all becoming friends and it’s great. Then just yesterday, we found out 3 hours beforehand that we had to teach a TRC. I don’t remember what that stands for, but they’re people who want to learn about the church. And for some reason, everyone’s stress just catapulted off of everyone else’s. Except me, who was like “ok”. But I ended up helping Elder Farley not stress about it too much and that it was gonna be a cake walk. And after we met with Elizabeth (Eli) Elder Farley got SO happy that it went well. Like he was seriously SPAZZING OUT. But it’s ok because he needed that time to be overjoyed. I think it helped him get back on his feet.

Well this email is really long, so I’m sorry about that, but I’ll leave out the other stories until next time. All you need to know is that Elder Spens and I are getting tight and that I love it here. ALSO: We can only send emails on Tuesdays, but we can READ emails from other people anytime. So please send me emails. We end up with quite a bit of downtime between classes. If you email soon enough today, I’ll probably respond. That’s all for now.

Over and Out