Finally...

February is over! I have an unbridled hatred for it. But March is here! Yay!

This week was pretty interesting. For starters, in biology I got to alter bacterial DNA to make the suckers glow in the dark. And then I made a bajillion copies of my own genomic DNA via a polymerase chain reaction (PCR). Don't worry, scientists do it all the time, particularly in forensics. Ever wonder how they get enough DNA to run a gajillion tests from just a few cells? PCR, my friends, PCR. Join all the molecular biologists in the world and sing praises to God for it. So... yeah, that was pretty exciting.

Except the molecular biological glory was immediately quashed when I came home from lab and checked the transaction history for my checking account only to discover that someone has been illegally taking money out of my account. Well, crap. Fixing this involved a ridiculous amount of stern phone calls. Which in and of itself is as horrifying as the thought of identity theft. By the end of the night, I had made more phone calls in a mere couple of hours than I had in the past six months. I don't remember ever being so exhausted, but somehow by the end of it, pressing the "Talk" button wasn't so traumatizing as before.

The next day I was not well-rested, so I suspect I was operating on reserve energy. I barely scraped by in my classes. Upon the arrival of lunchtime, instead of going home, I had the sudden urge to go to the Cougareat. Specifically Teriyaki Stix. But not because I was particularly craving an orange chicken bowl, but because a guy in my ward worked there.

Jared Keeley is among the shyest and quietest guys in the 26th ward. However, at the last few ward functions he's been following me around trying to talk to me. Among the things I've found out about him is that one of his jobs is a TA in the electrical engineering lab, but the other is cashier at Teriyaki Stix, Tuesdays and Thursdays from noon to 2pm.

When I got to Teriyaki Stix I was pleased to find a nonexistent line and Jared at the register. Sweet. He was pretty much beaming when he realized that I had come to visit him. While I was waiting for my food, he said, "Hey, Jenna! I'll call you tonight, okay?" That was, indeed, okay.

That night I went out dancing with Jace to practice quickstep for DanceSport (we're competing next week). Afterwards, I discovered that Jared had called me. So I called him back. And then he asked me to the Hunger Banquet on Friday. I was pretty excited, because aside from the creepy guys I didn't want to date, I hadn't been asked out since... since... early June. I'd been on a few blind dates. And then Carlos didn't actually ask me on a date, he just barged in and practically announced, "I need a date. Any volunteers?" And I was the only one not busy (because I was the only one who hadn't been asked out already). Pretty lame, if I may say so.

I live in a six-person apartment... but I guess you could say more people live here than that. Among the unofficial residents is Shannon's best friend, Lisa. Lisa decided to set up a roommate group date -- which meant we all had to find boys to ask. Darn. I had one in mind by the name of Matt, but I didn't end up asking him.

So, perhaps you might remember John. He's a little weird and a little full of himself, but all in all, not that bad. Last Saturday I was home sick watching old Star Trek episodes like a bum. And the doorbell rang. I recoiled at the sound thereof, and fled upstairs when I peeked out the eyehole and saw who it was. It was John. I climbed in bed and pretended to be asleep, hoping beyond hope that someone else would answer the door and inform him that I wasn't home, or else that he would just give up and leave.

Except no one else was home. And he rang the doorbell a few more times. Then he started knocking. He's going to be here forever unless I tell him to go away. I reluctantly trudged downstairs and answered the door.

"Hi!" said John.

"... ... Hi," I answered, trying not to glower too much.

"I, erm, was, uh, just happened to be around, and I, uh, wanted to say hello --"

"Hello." Well, John, you succeeded in saying hello. Congratulations.

"Erm, does your doorbell work? 'Cause, uh, I wasn't sure."

"It works just fine," I said in brutal honesty.

John blanched. "Well, yeah, hello, and, um, I'm sorry I didn't call this week, I've, er, been kind of busy --"

Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Anthony had asked my permission to give John my phone number because he had asked for it. I gave him my permission. "Oh. I've been busy too. And sick. I'm sick right now." I emphasized my illness.

"Oh, yeah, well, uh, that's too bad... erm... I'm busy this weekend, but, uh, maybe we could do something next weekend?"

"Okay."

"Yeah, well, uh, I just wanted to say, erm, hello, so..."

"Hello," I responded again.

"Yeah, okay. Feel better... bye."

"Bye." And I shut the door. Okay, so I suppose I'd better explain. It's not that I disliked John or anything like that. But -- I happen to be like all the other women in the world and I get witchy upon occasion. When this happens, I prefer not to interact with people. I hole myself up until it passes, because I don't want to insult the entire world and then have to fix it all later. So -- I didn't want to talk to John. At all. Anyone could have tried to visit and I would probably have met them with hostility. I am usually able to restrain myself from saying anything rude, but masking the cold tone of voice and the glare is a little harder. So... now he probably thinks I hate him. An hour later when witch-Jenna was gone, I started to feel bad for him.

But kudos to John for bravery (either that or he doesn't pick up on social cues); he called me this week, but I missed the call. In the voicemail message he asked me if I wanted to come to his place and have dinner, play some games, and meet his roommates.

I called back. "So, about Saturday," I said. "I can't come to your place, but... we've been planning a roommate group date. So you can come to my place for dinner and games and meet my roommates." What I didn't say was -- I don't trust you, John. If there is going to be a date happening -- it is not going to be one-on-one, it is going to be on familiar turf, and that's that.

He didn't seem to mind coming to the group date instead. He offered to bring some food to help. Well... Lisa wanted to make hamburgers, because apparently her grandmother has the best hamburger recipe in the world... so... "Well, you can bring hamburger buns, I guess."

"Okay, sure thing. I'll even make them myself!" came the response.

That took a minute to process. Wait. He wants to... make the hamburger buns? What? Who the heck makes hamburger buns? Well, apparently John does. And thus he weaseled his way into coming over a tad earlier than everyone else so he can use our oven. I told him it would be just fine if he bought them, but he insisted.

So... yeah. Just a little bit weirded out. ... This boy is weird. I am beginning to understand why he wasn't able to get a date to Divine Comedy. Apparently, he had asked sixteen girls and they all said no. Heeeh.

Anyway, Friday came, and with it came more illness. I kept waking up during the night feeling nauseous, or coughing, or unable to breathe. I finally had to get up for class... I went to class, came home and felt miserable. Now this just isn't fair. Tonight is the first date I've actually been asked on for nearly ten months and I get really, really sick? All day I could hardly keep what little food I ate down. Now this is just miserable.

Shannon was sick with something else, and her boyfriend came over with soup. Aw, how sweet. He let me have some too. I think it was miracle soup, because after a small dosage of that, I felt much better, and when Jared came, I felt ready to handle a bowl of rice and beans.

Jared and I went to the Hunger Banquet. Well, the whole point of this thing is that it's supposed to be an eyeopening experience to the inequality in the world. People are randomly assigned to "lower class", "middle class", and "higher class." Then they are served different meals according to their rank. Lower class, seated on the floor on top of a bunch of collapsed cardboard boxes, gets a teeny bowl of rice and beans and one paper cup of water... and they are served last. Middle class sits in chairs around the edge of the room with a slightly better meal, a styrofoam cup of water... served second. High class sits at fancy tables at the front of the room, and are served a full three course meal, with nice overflowing goblets of water that get refilled before the drinker has a chance to empty it. And, of course, they get served first. The vast majority of people in attendance were escorted to the lower class section. A few were taken to sit with the middle class, and virtually no one was taken to the high class section.

Since my tummy was not speaking to me, I fully expected and actually hoped for a mere bowl of rice and beans. However, as my luck would have it, Jared and I were escorted directly to the high class section. How ironic. I was probably the only one in the room who wanted to be lower class, and what do I get? High class.

My first course came -- tasty bread and a big plate of salad. Hungry eyes stared at us from the entire room. This was kind of sad. In between performances, Jared and I talked a bit. The performances were from various cultural groups and were very enjoyable.

Then came a hefty plate full of pulled pork, divinely seasoned mashed potatoes, and buttery corn. Then the middle class were given a measly plate of something else. But still, hungry eyes glared at us.

Little kids were walking around, mumbling in their little kid voices -- "Buy flower for dollar?" They held bouquets of roses. Jared leaned over and said, "You want a rose, Jenna?" I did want one, and he got me one. Yay! I haven't gotten a flower of any sort from a boy since... since... ... ... freshman year of high school. And that was from my stalker. Lame.

Then -- a bowl of chocolate chip cookie a la mode. Finally, the lower class was served, and they ate pretty much nothing. Now they really glared. After the banquet was over, we learned a dance, and then Jared took me home. Except I forgot my keys, and no one was home. So we went to his place and played Boggle, until one of my roommates were home to let me in. Then I went straight to bed. I was so tired from pretending not to be as sick as I was... thankfully though, all that high class food settled well in my stomach. It seems my tummy accepted the peace offering. Still, I slept horribly.

Saturday... blegh. I wasn't really looking forward to the date, because my head felt like a balloon about to pop. Hillary's friend did a Mary Kay party at our house just before the date, so we all looked like supermodels by the time our dates arrived. (I'm not sure I liked the makeup she did for me. It was a bit dramatic for my taste. And she used blue? I usually don't, just because when I do that, suddenly eyes look even bluer than they already are and it's basically demanding, "NOTICE ME!" Sometimes I'd rather not be noticed.)

John came over early on his motorcycle with dough. He cooked the buns in our oven. And then randomly our conversation turned to malware and such. And, being a computer techy guy, he took on the task of fixing my computer. I have to admit... it works like new. He was very thorough. I think he noticed that the latest search on my computer was "weather 84606" -- so now I have a nifty little weather gadget embedded in my browser. Nifty.

I couldn't help but draw the connection though -- the last time anyone's gone through this much effort to do things for me -- it was Michael Smith, Mr. Fix-It, and he was fixing every drawer in my kitchen and tightening every screw he could find. That kind of made my heart sink. I really hope this boy doesn't like-like me as Michael did. Initiate denial sequence now! I just don't want to deal with it! My hope is that if he noticed what my last Google search was, that he also noticed the picture on my desktop. BYU people have an annoying tendency to assume that if you have a picture of a missionary friend, then you're waiting for him. Perhaps John has also made this assumption. Cross your fingers! :D

It was the most ginormous group date I've ever been on -- eight couples. Ridiculous, huh? There were burgers and hot dogs, potato salad, fruit and vegetables, chips, and lemonade. There were lots of games and stories told... and pretty much, there's not much else to say. John was his usual aloof and awkward self. By the end of the night I was SO glad it was over. Too. Tired. To. Function. Agh!!! The End.