12.8.08

Today is my birthday, but I'm going to talk about Friday.

I went to work on Friday. I had to collect donations for the BYU Rock & Roll Club for the VH1 Save the Music fund. They had Guitar Hero set up to attract people. And it worked. But for some reason everyone that came over to play chose "Rock You Like a Hurricane." I swear, I heard that song 12 times in a row. And when it wasn't playing, the Clogging Club or something was blasting their bagpipe music. Let me tell you, whoever thought bagpipes were a good solo instrument were sorely mistaken. I was 2 minutes away from taking my cash box and smashing their stereo with it.

Also nearby was a UNICEF booth trying to get people to come to a benefit concert. It sounded like a good cause and all, but they've got to understand that people are sick of having fliers shoved at them from every direction. Plus, most don't have the money or time to go to a concert right before finals. But these people were ronchy. If someone didn't take a flier, even if they respectfully refused, they would start talking about the person, saying they were so inconsiderate and selfish. Then, in attempts to get people to take the fliers, they'd say, "If you don't go to this concert, you hate children! You are killing children!" They thought it was funny. I thought it was obnoxious and unattractive.

There was a girl who donated to the charity, but she was a marching band member--a clarinet player. She said, "I'm not a fan of guitars." I don't think we'd be friends.

Here at BYU, students are here for two reasons: to get an education (hopefully) and find a spouse. Any other reason they give you, which are rare indeed, are probably completely false. Don't believe them. I love learning, I think everyone knows that about me, so we won't discuss that. Plus, the topic of dating and the like is so much more interesting. As I was sitting at the booth collecting money on Friday, multitudes of people passed my view. With the girls, I looked at their hair, their accessories and their shoes and assessed what I liked about their style and I could consider copying (please, who really has a "unique" style? lies.) With the guys, I didn't care what they were wearing. I was looking at their faces, their smiles, their height and build and most importantly, their left hand. It's ridiculous, but so much fun. I feel like Pongo at the beginning of "101 Dalmations." He gazes out his window, analyzing those who pass and if they'd "fit" with him and Roger. It seemed all of them had something wrong and were easily crossed off the list of potentials. And so it is with me. But the longer I am here, the less picky I get with their looks and the longer my list of potentials gets, if even for a moment. Unfortunately, even with the adjustments I've made, it seems all those I could see myself with have a shiny object on their left hand (no, not an iPhone) or happen to be holding another's hand with their right hand. bogus. How did you do it, Pongo?

I was ordering prints of some pictures on Friday at the bookstore when I heard someone nearby say, "Hello Poulsbo!" I jerked up, looking for the source. He was addressing me, but I couldn't think of where exactly I knew him from, let alone his name. In a split second my brain made the connection-- curly hair, white teeth, short, Bainbridge Island, Allie Burt, stake dances--I now knew where I knew him from, he dated Allie Burt before his mission. But his name! Nothing. All that came to mind was, "Kermit." Indeed, that was our nickname for him, but it gave me no clues as to his real name. As the 3 seconds passed where in I could have smoothly covered up my memory lapse with a quick brain connection, my face skewed into an awkward grimace-smile and I was forced to admit I had no idea what his name was. "John, my name is John. And what's your name?" Whew, at least he forgot mine too. All awkwardness could have been put to bed then, but in attempt to make conversation, I chose to admit I had been thinking only of Kermit the Frog when he approached me. "Oh, ha ha.... Yeah, because I called Allie 'Miss Piggy....yeah..." And now what could I say? "Oh, yeah, Allie. She got married while you were on your mission and she's about to have 2 kids. How do you feel about that?" Luckily I shut my mouth before that came out and we said goodbye. I love those three second conversations. Just enough time to make a fool of myself.


Today I was walking to school. It was snowing. What an awful birthday present. But then it melted and all is well, so I am satisfied. I was walking along and I noticed a big purple blob on the sidewalk in my path. Because my bangs were obstructing my vision, it took me until I was standing over it to figure out that it was about a gallon of jam. I don't know what happened, but I laughed. Then I thought about the person whom the jam belonged to. Then I thought about if it had been my jam and if were the strawberry jam my mom makes. And THEN I thought, "Silly Elizabeth, it's not your jam, don't worry." And then I was fine.

1 comment:

  1. HA! I wonder who was carrying around ajar of jelly and for what...It really makes one think, doesn't it?

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