Yesterday has to be one of the most spectacularly strange days I've had in awhile. I survived. This 'un is a tad long, but then, yesterday was long. So... I feel justified.
I woke up, and it was dark outside. The clouds had parted enough that the moonlight was shining through my window. My alarm hadn't gone off, so I figured it was before 3:30 am... I tried to look at my watch, but all I could see in the near pitch blackness was the minute hand, which lay squarely on the 11th hour... ?:55. Okay. I figured it was 2:55 am. I reached for my phone to make sure.
I flipped it open. My brain fell through down to my knees and I felt sick immediately.
5:55 am.
I am so late for work. With a rush of adrenaline, I got out of bed, walked out of my bedroom... and I made it to the kitchen couch, at which point I just sat back down. I was out of energy already.
In fact, I felt numb all over. Late for work? How can this be? I promised myself I wouldn't miss anymore work this month. I started reviewing the last month in my head. The first week of the month consisted mostly of going to bed on time, and then staring at the ceiling, not able to sleep in the slightest... and then, just when I would start to drift off to sleep, I would jerk awake from the sound of my alarm clock cheerily informing me it was time to go to week. At this point, there was no way I was going to work. I would then call in, and then gather a few hours of sleep before class would start. The second week was different... I could sleep, but I was miserably sick. The third week... I went to work for the first half, and then the plague of the first week came back. I was up all night, thinking... and then I would get enormously frustrated that I couldn't sleep when I so obviously was exhausted...
I promised myself I wouldn't miss work again this month no matter what.
And here I am. Missing work. Again. Sitting on the couch. Numb. Staring into space.
I need to quit... No, no... I can't do that... You've flipped your lid. You're trying to spin too many plates, and this one just dropped and shattered.
That little voice in my head was right. I need to quit.
At that thought, limp tears started streaming down my face. Why am I so upset? My mind was active, even if I was as physically active as a vegetable... Quitting something has always felt like failing something to me. For me, it was a matter of pride... at all costs, I avoid admitting that I can't do everything to the point where I actually believe I can do everything and not go crazy. And by the time I realize I can't do it all, and I do go crazy, it's obvious to me that I can't actually quit any of it anymore.
But... I can quit work.
No, I can't. I need the money.
You need to think this through. How much do I have? How much do I need, and when? I've got enough to last me through the rest of winter semester, all of spring, and most of next fall. I'll need to take up work some more in the spring and the summer. But... the point is, I can afford to be jobless for the remainder of this semester... which I need to do.
I need to do this, and I can afford to.
My resolve stiffened, I look over at the clock, and I blink... back in reality, I see that it's 6:40... Wow... did I really spend all that time just sitting on the couch, thinking? Slightly energized with my decision, but still teary-eyed and wet-faced, I get up, gather my things, and head out the door. I nearly forget the bagels.
It is a tradition at our weekly training meetings to have a breakfast potluck... and every time I was assigned to bring something, I would take it to work, even if I had called in sick. It would be awful to go down to talk to my boss and forget bagels after all that...
I gloomily walk down to the JFSB, books and bagels in hand. I walk in the back way... go down the elevator, and find the custodial office. My boss isn't there. The other crew's boss tries to call him on the radio, but he left his radio in the office.
I leave the bag of bagels on top of the pile of food in the office for the breakfast potluck my co-workers were about to have... then I went to hunt down Glen, my boss.
I finally found him in the Anthropology Lab. "Hi, Glen."
"Hey, you found me! ... You didn't call in at all..."
"No... I... I just woke up, and I need to talk to you so..."
He looked at me, and the tears that had been stuck on my eyelids finally started falling down my face. Why was I so ashamed?
"Jennifer, do you need to quit?"
"I... Yes. Yes, I need to quit." I explained to him what had been going on lately with my life, and with that, my eyes started making tears faster than they could get rid of them. I was pretty much blinded.
Oh, this was so embarrassing. One of the things I've always hated that I've never succeeded in changing is not being able to hold back tears when I feel like crying. A skill like that would be mighty useful at this point.
"Jennifer, it's okay..." And with that he proceeded to explain that I needn't be embarrassed or ashamed for needing to quit. Then he said something that surprised me. "We'll go ahead and make today your last day."
I blinked. The policy was that if I ever were to quit, I had to give a two-weeks notice. But he just said...
"Well, you've been one of the best workers we've ever had. You're dedicated... I mean, you even bring the food you said you'd bring to the potluck even when you're sick!"
I was starting to go numb again.
"Okay, Jennifer, I'll go terminate your paperwork right now... And if you ever can and want to come back, I'll definitely let you come back. I'd hire you again immediately. And you can still come to our potlucks on Friday! Okay?"
I nodded, and then we said goodbye and I left.
And I felt numb again.
But the day wasn't over at all. I hadn't even gotten through half of my homework last night. I plunged through my calculus homework in the math department computer lab and then...
Frozen.
No. No. I JUST FINISHED IT!
When I brought the program back up... I had lost all my algorithms. No... no... I don't have TIME for this. I just don't! I did it again, and then printed it off. And then I got out my physics.
I looked through the homework.
And then I looked through it again.
What? This... can't be happening to me! I don't understand any of this! I can't handle this right now... I haven't had time to look at it yet. I don't have time to do it now.
But I plunged on... except slower than a snail would do it. Much slower. In fact, I don't think I was making any progress at all.
The bell rang.
I closed my eyes and said a little prayer. Then I got up and went to calculus. I made an executive decision to take notes instead of sleeping or continuing through the physics homework. And then after class was over, I headed for the MARB, so I could work on the physics some more.
But then... Eat, Jenna. You haven't eaten yet this morning and it's almost 10am. You need to eat. So... instead, I turned around, and steered straight for the Cougareat. I grabbed food and then I went to the MARB. I ate it. Then I looked at the clock. 10:30. I've got half and hour until physics class starts.
I began to despair. I pulled out the physics again, read through the problems. I didn't even know where to start.
Jenna! Look at your syllabus!
...The syllabus isn't going to help me with this.
Look at your syllabus.
So I pulled it out. My eyes jumped to the section titled, Homework. I read it, despairing.
And then...
A ray of hope. "After the due date, homework is late and worth 1/4 of the points. Three late assignments will be forgiven and counted as on time." I blinked and looked down at the quantity of assignments due today... three assignments. Exactly. I just hadn't had time. And... it was alright. Everything was going to be okay. I decided to try and finish just one of the assignments before 1pm, which was when the homework was due.
Unfortunately, I wasn't able to do so. I ended getting half way done, but I didn't get through it all... But it was okay. I just needed to turn everything else in on time for the remainder of the semester. And everything would be fine...
After physics, I ran to choir. After that, I ran to biology.
And... biology let out early. So I headed down to the physics lab.
And thankfully... the physics lab was ridiculously easy. I just had to set up a network of resistors with an equivalent resistance equal to the last four digits of my BYUID number. It literally took me five minutes. I ran home. Took the hyperquiz for biology... and then... a sigh of relief.
I... I can relax.
I just sat on my bed for a bit. Then I got up and cleaned the kitchen. Then I found Hillary in her room. She was playing the Sims, and had created a Sim family for me. She informed me that the Sim Jenna (named Code Blue Pheonix... yes, Pheonix, not Phoenix) was pregnant. I watched her manipulate Code Blue and her family until the Sim child was born... and then grown into a child. Then we watched Return of the Cat.
In the middle of the movie, Rochelle, who was sitting at my computer and using it, yelled, "Jenna! Ryan's talking to you! He says, 'You quit your job?'" I get up.
"Yeah, I did quit my job..."
Rochelle laughed evilly, and then imitated my voice. "Yes, my love, I did! I quit so I could spend more time with you!"
I rolled my eyes, and Ashley laughed. "Ahaha! Ro, I would pay you to type that!"
Thankfully, I got to my computer in time to prevent such a happening. I told Ryan I was busy, and signed out of chat so that Ro wouldn't do anything mean, and then I went and finished watching the movie. After that, I played the piano.
Knock knock knock...
I take off the headphones from the keyboard and look at the clock. 7:20...
Oh yeah, I have a date! Hillary gets the door, and it's Ryan. "Are you ready to go?"
"Uhh... yes." I grab my coat and we go. We talk all the way over to the HFAC, mostly about why I decided to quit my job. I realize suddenly just how ridiculously stressed I am. And suddenly I was so thankful I was on a date doing something instead of just aimlessly wandering about my apartment like I do when I'm stressed.
We walk into the recital hall and to our shock and amazement... it is jam packed. This was just a little opera performance! I look around for seats... "Hey, let's sit in our spot!" We have a spot? I look up to the top of the hall, where Ryan was looking, to a little corner in the back, where we last time we came to a music performance. Two seats... empty.
We squeeze our way over to them. I glance Hillary and Rachel coming in after us... I guess they had decided to spy on us tonight. Silly roommates.
And then it started.
So... confession time. During the middle of the opera, I looked over at Ryan... and then at his hands. And I thought, I want to hold his hand... I'm sure you've had those moments where time just stops and your brain splits in two and starts arguing... this was one of those times. I eventually convinced myself it was a terrible idea, because he was leaving on his mission in a few months... and I already knew I would be ridiculously sad when it happened. Holding hands would make it even worse. And, Ryan said he didn't want a girlfriend before his mission, and I had agreed with him, because I didn't want a pre-mish boyfriend. And holding hands was the sort of thing girlfriends and boyfriends did. So it was settled.
I started paying attention again to the opera.
Then Ryan whispers in my ear, "Hey, can I hold your hand?"
Whoa. "What?" I cannot have heard that right. I can't have...
"Uh... Can I hold your hand?"
Apparently I did hear that right. "Why?"
I don't what he had been expecting me to say, but it obviously wasn't 'why?'. He didn't know what to say... "Uhhh... because... because I'm scared?" He said it in a silly sort of voice that meant he wanted to... just because he wanted to.
"No!"
"Oh. Okay." And with that the next scene started and he slunk down in his seat.
After the opera, we went to the library and watched Home Star Runner videos for awhile. I think that by that time, my brain had turned to some sort of ghastly green mush. I was so tired... So tired.
"What do you want to do?" "You want to watch something else?" "Wanna go somewhere else?"
I think a long stream of "I don't know"s was the only answer I gave Ryan.
Finally, I realized that I was tired. I told him so.
He just kind of looked at me for a moment. "You mean this whole time you've been trying to tell me you want to go home?"
"Uhh... no... no... well, I don't know." Oh shoot, I'm doing the 'I dunno' thing again. How extraordinarily annoying that must be for him. Then, "Well, I guess let's go home."
He walked me home, and he gave me an extraordinarily terse hug, and then I went inside.
Jackie ran out the door with pillow in hand... she was going to save us a spot on the sign-up list for the Monticello apartments for next year. We had all planned on sleeping over there, but I just felt so ridiculously tired...
In the kitchen, I was greeted by Rachel and Hillary. "Heeeeeeeeeyyy!" they squealed happily.
"Hi." Ooh, I sounded dead.
They stared at me. "Why the grimace?" I told them about the holding hands thing. Rachel laughed at me, as did Hillary, but it was a sympathetic rather than mocking sort. Hillary comforted me as best she could.
I cried for a bit (because usually Fridays are wonderful, and this one wasn't), then I went to bed.
So, all in all, yesterday was... horrid. But looking on the bright side...
Bright side. Is there one? Okay, stretching it. It is tradition at BYU for girls that the first time you hold hands with a guy, you owe your roommates M&Ms. The first kiss, you owe them all ice cream. Engagement... steak dinner.
So here's the bright side. I continue to not owe anyone M&Ms. I'd say that's a good thing?
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Men Treat Me Like I'm a Princess.
Yesterday was... interesting to say the least. It was an extremely jam-packed day, if I may say so. I woke up around 4am... oh dear, that means I'll be late! So, I call my boss and tell him I'm going to be late... and I was. I then cleaned stairs for about three hours. Then I scurried over to the Talmage building where I did my physics and calculus homework. Then I went to calculus.
After that was over, I made my way to the MARB, and seated myself comfortably on the top level next to a power outlet, where I plugged in my dear Jacques (my laptop) and began to hurriedly do my biology homework. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw some guys walking around with boxes of Krispy Kremes... I felt a twinge of jealousy and then tuned them out.
"HI!"
I jumped and looked up. One of the Krispy Kreme guys was offering me a donut. Oh, yes please. I happily take it. The guy walks away, offering donuts to my study neighbors. I look down at my glazed prize.
At this point, I thought of Ryan, because he often reminisces about Krispy Kremes. The closest shop is in Orem, and neither of us have a car, so our chances of coming across them are slim. I smile as I take a bite of the artery-clogging goodness. He would be so jealous.
My donut gone, I continue working on biology. The bell rings and I continue working. I was right next to my classroom, and the class that was in there now had to get out first. It was suddenly very crowded in the hallways, so I scrunched up a little, and kept my head down. And then...
BAM!
Some black-shoed guy had very abruptly slammed down on the ground in front of me, and I jumped. My head jerked up to see the face of the culprit. Oh, it's Ryan... he was one of the people who had to vacate my classroom so I could get in there.
"...Did you hit your head on the brick when I scared you?"
"No, no, I didn't."
"Is that biology?"
"Yeah..."
"That is a huuuuge book!"
"Yep. ... ... ... I had a Krispy Kreme today!"
"What?!? Where'd you get one of those?" I told him. And then he looked so miffed. "Jenna, you should have grabbed me one!" "That's rude though..." "Then... then... you should have come and gotten me! Pulled me out of class! You knew I was in there!" I shook my head, and started to pack up my biology and put it in my enormous backpack. And he was so sad. I promised that if it ever happened again, I would come get him. He went to his class, and I walked into physics.
It was a tad boring today. After that, I dashed off to choir... then after that I dashed off to biology. And after that I dashed over to the JSB, where I did my Book of Mormon homework, and then proceeded to fall asleep on the ground next to the door of my next class. Except I wasn't asleep... very close to it, but not asleep. Every time someone passed me, I would open my eyes. At one point Ryan had come, but then saw I was asleep, and then left again. At least he thought I was sleeping.
The bell rang. I almost got up... and then decided against it. I just laid there. And then Ryan showed up again. "Wake up!"
"Uggghh... I am, I am..." And then we went into the classroom. I groggily blinked around at people as they came in.
"Are you busy tonight?" I was. So busy. "Yeah... I've got orchestra and a mandatory dance lab I have to go to... So I'm busy from seven to ten!" Ryan sighed sadly. "Oh... Dallin randomly buys things he doesn't need..."
What? That was random. Well, it wasn't, but I didn't know this at the time. Dallin [his roommate] had bought tickets to the men's chorus concert that night, and then after realizing he couldn't go, gave them to Ryan. And now Ryan was desperately trying to find a date. Unfortunately, every girl he had asked had been busy beyond all reason and couldn't go. I sympathize with him, and then class starts.
After that, I ran home with Hillary (who is also in our Book of Mormon class), starving.
Hillary made sloppy joes, and I did my Isaiah homework.
And then I ran off to orchestra and played bassoon for awhile. Then Jackie and I ran off to the dance lab. Ah, so this was why Dallin was busy. He was there too, along with Roy, Josef, Ian, and Michael. Clifton was there too, but he had sprained his ankle. I danced with all of them until about ten'o'clock, at which point we could leave.
The boys left first. And I tried to follow them and catch up, but there were these blasted heels... Oh blast it all. I took off my heels and ran after them in socks... into the outside, where it was snowing wetly. The ground was cold and wet, but... my feet hurt from being in heels for so long, and then it wasn't very far from the Wilk to my apartment. I decided it wasn't worth it to wear the heels.
I dash after the boys... "Hey! I don't want to walk home alone!" I join them.
"...You're not wearing your shoes..."
"No, I'm not."
"And the ground is cold and wet!"
"Yes, I can feel that... It's not that bad..."
And then Dallin pipes up... "Do you want us to carry you home?"
I laugh at this, and protest, "I'm wearing a skirt! Somehow I don't think that would work too well!"
Dallin and Michael look at each other, and form a nice seat out of their arms. Hm. This could be a good thing. "Come on, we could totally carry you!"
I sit down on the arm-seat. And then they lift me up. Whooooaaaa... the instability was amazing... and then Dallin complains, "Michael, you're too short. Ian's more my height, that would be better!"
So they put me down. And then Ian and Dallin formed a seat. And then they lifted me up again. It was misty, and it was snowing/raining. Michael took my shoes and carried them for me.
"Jenna, wave like this!" Michael demonstrated, in much the same way they do in Princess Diaries. So, I waved at the passing cars.
"Do you feel like a princess, Jenna?" asked Ian (or maybe it was Dallin?).
"Yes, yes, I do. This is so amazing!"
Unfortunately, this didn't last very long. The boys below me finally had to put me down. They looked rather dejected and ashamed for not being able to carry me all the way home, and apologized for being so weak.
When I walked inside, my roommates immediately demanded why I looked so smug. "Well... I just got carried home by men!"
"WHAT? Why, you manipulative little witch. ... ... Teach me," demanded Rachel.
"What? How to manipulate men?"
"Yes."
Rachel was upset with the whole night.
After that was over, I made my way to the MARB, and seated myself comfortably on the top level next to a power outlet, where I plugged in my dear Jacques (my laptop) and began to hurriedly do my biology homework. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw some guys walking around with boxes of Krispy Kremes... I felt a twinge of jealousy and then tuned them out.
"HI!"
I jumped and looked up. One of the Krispy Kreme guys was offering me a donut. Oh, yes please. I happily take it. The guy walks away, offering donuts to my study neighbors. I look down at my glazed prize.
At this point, I thought of Ryan, because he often reminisces about Krispy Kremes. The closest shop is in Orem, and neither of us have a car, so our chances of coming across them are slim. I smile as I take a bite of the artery-clogging goodness. He would be so jealous.
My donut gone, I continue working on biology. The bell rings and I continue working. I was right next to my classroom, and the class that was in there now had to get out first. It was suddenly very crowded in the hallways, so I scrunched up a little, and kept my head down. And then...
BAM!
Some black-shoed guy had very abruptly slammed down on the ground in front of me, and I jumped. My head jerked up to see the face of the culprit. Oh, it's Ryan... he was one of the people who had to vacate my classroom so I could get in there.
"...Did you hit your head on the brick when I scared you?"
"No, no, I didn't."
"Is that biology?"
"Yeah..."
"That is a huuuuge book!"
"Yep. ... ... ... I had a Krispy Kreme today!"
"What?!? Where'd you get one of those?" I told him. And then he looked so miffed. "Jenna, you should have grabbed me one!" "That's rude though..." "Then... then... you should have come and gotten me! Pulled me out of class! You knew I was in there!" I shook my head, and started to pack up my biology and put it in my enormous backpack. And he was so sad. I promised that if it ever happened again, I would come get him. He went to his class, and I walked into physics.
It was a tad boring today. After that, I dashed off to choir... then after that I dashed off to biology. And after that I dashed over to the JSB, where I did my Book of Mormon homework, and then proceeded to fall asleep on the ground next to the door of my next class. Except I wasn't asleep... very close to it, but not asleep. Every time someone passed me, I would open my eyes. At one point Ryan had come, but then saw I was asleep, and then left again. At least he thought I was sleeping.
The bell rang. I almost got up... and then decided against it. I just laid there. And then Ryan showed up again. "Wake up!"
"Uggghh... I am, I am..." And then we went into the classroom. I groggily blinked around at people as they came in.
"Are you busy tonight?" I was. So busy. "Yeah... I've got orchestra and a mandatory dance lab I have to go to... So I'm busy from seven to ten!" Ryan sighed sadly. "Oh... Dallin randomly buys things he doesn't need..."
What? That was random. Well, it wasn't, but I didn't know this at the time. Dallin [his roommate] had bought tickets to the men's chorus concert that night, and then after realizing he couldn't go, gave them to Ryan. And now Ryan was desperately trying to find a date. Unfortunately, every girl he had asked had been busy beyond all reason and couldn't go. I sympathize with him, and then class starts.
After that, I ran home with Hillary (who is also in our Book of Mormon class), starving.
Hillary made sloppy joes, and I did my Isaiah homework.
And then I ran off to orchestra and played bassoon for awhile. Then Jackie and I ran off to the dance lab. Ah, so this was why Dallin was busy. He was there too, along with Roy, Josef, Ian, and Michael. Clifton was there too, but he had sprained his ankle. I danced with all of them until about ten'o'clock, at which point we could leave.
The boys left first. And I tried to follow them and catch up, but there were these blasted heels... Oh blast it all. I took off my heels and ran after them in socks... into the outside, where it was snowing wetly. The ground was cold and wet, but... my feet hurt from being in heels for so long, and then it wasn't very far from the Wilk to my apartment. I decided it wasn't worth it to wear the heels.
I dash after the boys... "Hey! I don't want to walk home alone!" I join them.
"...You're not wearing your shoes..."
"No, I'm not."
"And the ground is cold and wet!"
"Yes, I can feel that... It's not that bad..."
And then Dallin pipes up... "Do you want us to carry you home?"
I laugh at this, and protest, "I'm wearing a skirt! Somehow I don't think that would work too well!"
Dallin and Michael look at each other, and form a nice seat out of their arms. Hm. This could be a good thing. "Come on, we could totally carry you!"
I sit down on the arm-seat. And then they lift me up. Whooooaaaa... the instability was amazing... and then Dallin complains, "Michael, you're too short. Ian's more my height, that would be better!"
So they put me down. And then Ian and Dallin formed a seat. And then they lifted me up again. It was misty, and it was snowing/raining. Michael took my shoes and carried them for me.
"Jenna, wave like this!" Michael demonstrated, in much the same way they do in Princess Diaries. So, I waved at the passing cars.
"Do you feel like a princess, Jenna?" asked Ian (or maybe it was Dallin?).
"Yes, yes, I do. This is so amazing!"
Unfortunately, this didn't last very long. The boys below me finally had to put me down. They looked rather dejected and ashamed for not being able to carry me all the way home, and apologized for being so weak.
When I walked inside, my roommates immediately demanded why I looked so smug. "Well... I just got carried home by men!"
"WHAT? Why, you manipulative little witch. ... ... Teach me," demanded Rachel.
"What? How to manipulate men?"
"Yes."
Rachel was upset with the whole night.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Noodles.
Ah, President's Day. No school. Yessss.
Still, this means Jenna is stuck with her nose in a biology book. So many of my roommates have been gone. Ashley was in urgent care, Rochelle, as usual, was missing in action. Jackie was at a relative's house. Hillary and Rachel were here, but were busy entertaining their old high school friend, Latecia. So... I was practically alone in the apartment. I suppose I could have gone over to the guy's hall, but Ryan was at his grandparent's house, and Will is just plain depressing.
Ah, biology. How exquisitely exciting when you don't have a test the next day. Poring over the book... filling out charts...
KNOCK KNOCK.
What does Ryan want? Wait a minute. Ryan isn't in Provo... is he?
I answer the door.
Hm. Ryan's back. So much for studying biology. And... I realize that I'm hungry. Snack time.
Ryan invades my kitchen and begins telling me all about his crazy adventures with cardboard boxes over the weekend. I happily start munching (I forget what I was eating... but I think I made myself something tasty). And suddenly, Ryan perks up.
"Hey! Did I tell you I learned how to make noodles?"
I blink. I must have misheard. "You made noodles?"
"Yeah, I learned how to make them last week!"
Wait. Whoa, now. Learned how to make noodles last week? My brain nearly fell through to my stomach. "You... you didn't know how to make them before?"
"Well, no... except for the noodles in the Mac'n'Cheese boxes... but then they make just plain noodles! And sell them in plastic packages!"
"You've never made noodles before?!? NEVER?"
"No!"
There is a slight awkward pause.
"Oh, and I also found out that they make spaghetti sauce and sell it in jars!"
Holy macaroons. My goodness. What has this boy been eating his whole life? "Well, yes..."
"And... they also make it in cans, right?"
I nod slowly. "Yes... of course they do... but it tastes slightly of can, and that's why most people prefer the jarred sauce..." At this, he looked confused, and didn't say anything. "Well, it's cheaper in cans, and you can get rid of the tinny taste really easy... you just add a little bit of sugar to it, and it's all better." He just kind of looked around at everything and anything except for me... he was ashamed... or something. "But that doesn't really matter if you know how to make your own... it tastes better if you make your own sauce anyway... you know, your own meat, your own seasoning..."
I think at this point he was excited to hear something familiar. "Oh, that's what Dallin said!" Dallin, Ryan's roommate, is probably the most amazing cook I've ever met in my life. I mean, he could cook for a girl and then propose... and not get rejected because the food is so good.
"Good, good..."
At this point, Hillary, Rachel, and Latecia enter the kitchen and start fixing themselves dinner as well. Hillary starts making Brussels sprouts. Ryan watches curiously. Timidly, he asks, "How do you make those?"
Add water. Add butter. Add heat. Done.
"Oh. Can you do that with pretty much any vegetable you want to cook?"
"Yeah..." Hillary and Rachel start to watch him suspiciously, as if they thought he were teasing them. But then...
I blurt out, "He's never made noodles before until last week!" I was glad my roommates took this news in much the same way I did. Their heads swiveled to look at the oddity was the noodleless creature Ryan.
"N-n-n-never?"
"Well, no. Not 'till last week..."
Can you make this? No. How about this? No. This? What do you think? No.
I eye him suspiciously. "Ryan... is there anything you can cook?"
"Uhh... well, I made mashed potatoes... once..." And then, hopefully, "Do you guys know how to make mashed potatoes?" We all nod solemnly, at which point Ryan droops again in shame. Then, he perks up again. "Oh, but have you known how to make them for a long time?" We gently assure him that we've been making mashed potatoes for as long as we could remember. His head dropped sadly.
He left rather abruptly after that.
But then, about an hour later, I hear another knock. I answer the door again to find Ryan peering in from the other side, looking extremely excited. "Jenna! Guess what? I made noodles! Wanna see?"
"Oh, I'm proud of you--"
"Wanna see 'em?"
"Um, sure... where are they?"
Ryan had commandeering my neighbor's kitchen. I walk in to see a pan of boiling water with noodles inside. And Ryan was just glowing happily. He dipped his stirring spoon into the hot noodle-water mixture to pull out a few noodles... then he poked them gleefully. "Ooh! Look, Jenna, noodles!"
"Yeah... noodles..." I look down at the pot. The water looked like it was about to boil over the sides. "Uhh... I think you put too much water in..."
He blinked and dropped his happy little noodles into the pot again. "I did? Oh no, what do I do now?"
"Uhh... turn down the heat a little. A stir a bit more... It'll still boil, just not as high..." That fixed, Ryan went back to glowing happily. And then, he pointed out his sauce. Yes, it was the kind they sell in jars. And he was so proud of it. I tried hard not to laugh. I ended up just shaking my head and smiling, and then I looked up at him. "How long do you have before your mission?"
"My availability date is June 19th!"
"And... you can't cook? Ryan, you're going to starve. There probably isn't going to be an abundance of frozen pizzas and Spaghettio's... especially since you won't have much money! You're going to die!"
He ignored me.
"Ryan, I'm going to teach you how to cook. Forget the potato gun. Cooking. I would prefer it if you lived through your mission."
"Uhh... I can cook more than you think! I... I can make macaroni and cheese! And mashed potatoes! I learned about gravy this weekend! You can actually make it from meat drippings... or you can buy packets for it at the store!"
"Um. Yes, I know." I looked pointedly at him. "So what are you going to learn to make this week?"
"Uhhh... Um. I think I'll perfect my mashed potatoes."
"Okay. And gravy. You'll make gravy too."
"Uhh, okay..."
And with that I went home.
Still, this means Jenna is stuck with her nose in a biology book. So many of my roommates have been gone. Ashley was in urgent care, Rochelle, as usual, was missing in action. Jackie was at a relative's house. Hillary and Rachel were here, but were busy entertaining their old high school friend, Latecia. So... I was practically alone in the apartment. I suppose I could have gone over to the guy's hall, but Ryan was at his grandparent's house, and Will is just plain depressing.
Ah, biology. How exquisitely exciting when you don't have a test the next day. Poring over the book... filling out charts...
KNOCK KNOCK.
What does Ryan want? Wait a minute. Ryan isn't in Provo... is he?
I answer the door.
Hm. Ryan's back. So much for studying biology. And... I realize that I'm hungry. Snack time.
Ryan invades my kitchen and begins telling me all about his crazy adventures with cardboard boxes over the weekend. I happily start munching (I forget what I was eating... but I think I made myself something tasty). And suddenly, Ryan perks up.
"Hey! Did I tell you I learned how to make noodles?"
I blink. I must have misheard. "You made noodles?"
"Yeah, I learned how to make them last week!"
Wait. Whoa, now. Learned how to make noodles last week? My brain nearly fell through to my stomach. "You... you didn't know how to make them before?"
"Well, no... except for the noodles in the Mac'n'Cheese boxes... but then they make just plain noodles! And sell them in plastic packages!"
"You've never made noodles before?!? NEVER?"
"No!"
There is a slight awkward pause.
"Oh, and I also found out that they make spaghetti sauce and sell it in jars!"
Holy macaroons. My goodness. What has this boy been eating his whole life? "Well, yes..."
"And... they also make it in cans, right?"
I nod slowly. "Yes... of course they do... but it tastes slightly of can, and that's why most people prefer the jarred sauce..." At this, he looked confused, and didn't say anything. "Well, it's cheaper in cans, and you can get rid of the tinny taste really easy... you just add a little bit of sugar to it, and it's all better." He just kind of looked around at everything and anything except for me... he was ashamed... or something. "But that doesn't really matter if you know how to make your own... it tastes better if you make your own sauce anyway... you know, your own meat, your own seasoning..."
I think at this point he was excited to hear something familiar. "Oh, that's what Dallin said!" Dallin, Ryan's roommate, is probably the most amazing cook I've ever met in my life. I mean, he could cook for a girl and then propose... and not get rejected because the food is so good.
"Good, good..."
At this point, Hillary, Rachel, and Latecia enter the kitchen and start fixing themselves dinner as well. Hillary starts making Brussels sprouts. Ryan watches curiously. Timidly, he asks, "How do you make those?"
Add water. Add butter. Add heat. Done.
"Oh. Can you do that with pretty much any vegetable you want to cook?"
"Yeah..." Hillary and Rachel start to watch him suspiciously, as if they thought he were teasing them. But then...
I blurt out, "He's never made noodles before until last week!" I was glad my roommates took this news in much the same way I did. Their heads swiveled to look at the oddity was the noodleless creature Ryan.
"N-n-n-never?"
"Well, no. Not 'till last week..."
Can you make this? No. How about this? No. This? What do you think? No.
I eye him suspiciously. "Ryan... is there anything you can cook?"
"Uhh... well, I made mashed potatoes... once..." And then, hopefully, "Do you guys know how to make mashed potatoes?" We all nod solemnly, at which point Ryan droops again in shame. Then, he perks up again. "Oh, but have you known how to make them for a long time?" We gently assure him that we've been making mashed potatoes for as long as we could remember. His head dropped sadly.
He left rather abruptly after that.
But then, about an hour later, I hear another knock. I answer the door again to find Ryan peering in from the other side, looking extremely excited. "Jenna! Guess what? I made noodles! Wanna see?"
"Oh, I'm proud of you--"
"Wanna see 'em?"
"Um, sure... where are they?"
Ryan had commandeering my neighbor's kitchen. I walk in to see a pan of boiling water with noodles inside. And Ryan was just glowing happily. He dipped his stirring spoon into the hot noodle-water mixture to pull out a few noodles... then he poked them gleefully. "Ooh! Look, Jenna, noodles!"
"Yeah... noodles..." I look down at the pot. The water looked like it was about to boil over the sides. "Uhh... I think you put too much water in..."
He blinked and dropped his happy little noodles into the pot again. "I did? Oh no, what do I do now?"
"Uhh... turn down the heat a little. A stir a bit more... It'll still boil, just not as high..." That fixed, Ryan went back to glowing happily. And then, he pointed out his sauce. Yes, it was the kind they sell in jars. And he was so proud of it. I tried hard not to laugh. I ended up just shaking my head and smiling, and then I looked up at him. "How long do you have before your mission?"
"My availability date is June 19th!"
"And... you can't cook? Ryan, you're going to starve. There probably isn't going to be an abundance of frozen pizzas and Spaghettio's... especially since you won't have much money! You're going to die!"
He ignored me.
"Ryan, I'm going to teach you how to cook. Forget the potato gun. Cooking. I would prefer it if you lived through your mission."
"Uhh... I can cook more than you think! I... I can make macaroni and cheese! And mashed potatoes! I learned about gravy this weekend! You can actually make it from meat drippings... or you can buy packets for it at the store!"
"Um. Yes, I know." I looked pointedly at him. "So what are you going to learn to make this week?"
"Uhhh... Um. I think I'll perfect my mashed potatoes."
"Okay. And gravy. You'll make gravy too."
"Uhh, okay..."
And with that I went home.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Summing Up the Last Few Weeks
Okay, so I've been ridiculously busy. I'm not sure how I got so busy, especially when I have a smaller workload that last semester. Whatever.
I've done way too much homework in the past month, gone on three dates (there will be another tomorrow), cleaned a lot, had some good meals, and ... that's pretty much it. Sad, isn't it?
It has become popular belief (among my roommates at least) that I am way too busy for my own good. And... they're probably right, but I didn't really think there was anything I could do about it. I just kept doing homework... and more homework... and more?
Last Saturday was especially ridiculous, and I suppose I'll tell you what I can remember about it, since it pretty much sums up my current life patterns.
It was bright and sunny when I woke up that morning. And so was I. And I don't know where Ashley was. But it seemed like the opportune moment to tidy up my room. And then, after I had done that, I realized that since it was eight on a Saturday morning, I probably had several hours in the apartment to myself while my other roommates slept. So... I went grocery shopping. I spent all but seventy cents on my meal plan. I proceeded to clean the kitchen.
And then, as I was putting the dishes from the dishwasher away... I realized just how ridiculously unorganized the cupboards were...
I'm not OCD, I promise. But occasionally, when I've had enough sleep and don't have anything particularly stressful occupying my attention, I have little bouts of obsession-compulsion... this was one of those times. Definitely.
Each cupboard I opened revealed a new scene of chaos... and each would summon a shiver down my spine and a twitch in my eye. With the realization the contents of our cupboards were often in plain sight since Jackie has an odd and nasty inability to close cupboard doors once she opens them, I set out to organize them. All of them.
I discovered lots of strange surprises. Dishes that hadn't at all come clean in the dishwasher, but had been put back in the cupboard anyway. Disgustedly, I pulled these out, opened the dishwasher, and put the guilty dishes inside after scrubbing the guck off of them. I left the dishwasher open, ready to receive more offending dishes... but I would later regret this.
I'm not observant enough to know which of my roommates are guilty of all of the offending things that I found in the cupboards... but all these things did was feed the flames of my temporary-OCD-ness. I finally got up to the top shelf of the cupboard above our sink. It held a jumbled mess of what I suspected to be Tupperware.
I pulled up a chair up next to the open dishwasher, right where I could work with whatever happened to be up there. Among the mess, I found tacky, empty plastic containers like you would usually buy at the grocery store, but containing a butter spread or something.
If we were poor and used Tupperware enough that the plastic containers we did own were insufficient for the demands of our apartment's normal usage patterns... I would understand why we would keep them. But honestly... I think we have way too much Tupperware as it is. All these flimsy plastic containers were doing were collecting dust and taking up space. Oh, and provoking a nasty twitch in my right eye.
I made an executive decision to throw them out. Which required getting down off the chair and placing the offenders in the trash can. My arms laden with junk, I successfully turned around while atop the chair. But I lost grip of one the plastic things in my hand... which flew to my left, above the dishwasher.
(The following happened all within two seconds.)
I wasn't thinking. My hand reached out to grab it, and as I caught it, I realized I had just compromised my balance on the chair. Badly. I came crashing down halfway into the dishwasher.
Yelping out in pain, I leapt back up onto the chair, but not at all very gracefully. Instead of resting on the chair as I had hoped to, I realized that I hadn't landed quite as I'd hoped to... and the chair and I fell... the other way.
Crash.
I lay sprawled on the tile, the tacky plastic things crushed and broken (I told you they weren't worth keeping...). The chair creaked angrily, threatening to come apart. I moaned. I swear I must have hit or smashed every square inch of my body.
I now had an instant headache. But strangely, this was the minorest of the many hurts I now noticed. I got up slowly... threw the evil plastic fragments in the trash... and limped to the hallway.
To my surprise, none of my sleeping roommates had woken from the horrid noises I had just made.
I limped to the couch. And collapsed.
Ow. OW. Owwwwwwwww. There wasn't any blood, just a strange stinging sensation all over. My left leg hurt in particular. I think that is what collided most violently with the chair. I lifted up my pant leg... to discover that it was already purpling with what had declared itself a nasty bruise. Ugh. My right knee hurt as well (this was what I think hit the dishwasher first), but it was just pink with irritation. My hands and arms stung with pain from flailing around and unsuccessfully trying to find a handhold. My head had hit something... I think the ground.
Whatever.
At least my apartment was clean.
I spent the next several hours doing homework... namely calculus. And... more calculus. My brain was working so slowly that I'm not sure how I was thinking at all. I trudged through my homework. Problem by problem... Ugh. I was starting to get sooo mad at this homework, because I wasn't getting the right answers immediately.
It soon happens that I am trying out my hand at primal scream therapy. "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!" I yell angrily at my homework, dissatisfied enormously with it. My roommates peek in to see if I am all right. No. No. Jenna is not all right. Calculus is taking so much longer than it should. Like... I estimated it would take me two hours. I was going on six hours. I hope you understand my frustration. I was MAD at this homework for not cooperating with me. If I had looked in the mirror, I may have seen steam coming out of my ears.
Ding.
'Mid textbook-throw, I look around for the source of this mysterious sound.
Ding. Ding.
Oh! My instant messenger! Someone is talking to me! I consider whether or not to answer it. I was positively fuming and might not be the most pleasant being to talk to at the moment. And it was nine'o'clock at night. Well, I decided I would rather talk to a person than to my calculus homework... I might talk more civilly to someone with feelings.
I look over at my computer screen. Hm, it's Ryan. I determine that I am not going to look at my homework for at least another half-an-hour. I glare at it angrily and I talk to him... but alas! I suppose it is impossible for me to talk to someone without leaking out how I am feeling.
Ryan inquires what I've been doing all day... I reply, Homework. What kind? Calculus. Just calculus? Yes... all day... and I'm not done! And I have more! I've got physics and biology and health and dance and... All day? How long is all day? Six hours on calculus.
Hmm... usually when something takes me all day, it means I need a break, Ryan says.
I don't have time for a break! I'm never going to be done with all this homework! Never! Neeevvvveeerrr!
Ryan obviously disagreed. Wanna go an a walk?
A walk? Hm. Here is where that horrible moment where your brain splits into two distinct voices and they start arguing.
No. Don't do it. You have way too much to do. Way too much.
Aw, but I'm sick and tired of calculus. It isn't even interesting, or fun, or cute, or...
You'll never get done. If you go on a walk, you won't be able to do any more homework tonight, and you'll have to do it on Sunday!
Or... I could do it Monday morning. I can't go on walk then...
NO! You promised yourself you would finish all your homework BEFORE Monday. BEFORE! That means TONIGHT!
But I haven't been on a date with him for... two whole weeks?
YOU'RE TOO BUSY!!!
But I told him no to that date on Thursday and he was really sad...
You were too busy... and you're even busier now... you have two midterms next week.
It's nine, and I've been working allllll day!
At this point, one voice kicks the other's shin.
Shut up. I'm going.
So... I go out into the cold outside. So incredibly cold. It's like... twenty degrees... (warmer than last week, but still). But... I don't feel cold. I imagine if you could see stress, you'd see them radiating off of me like heat waves.
We start walking. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm fine, I just have (insert incredibly long list of things to do before Monday here)..." I think I was hyperventilating... or something.
He looked at me sideways-like. "Jenna. I am not a physics assignment."
Ahhh! Physics! Oh no. "Oh no no no no... I have a physics midterm this week. And a physics homework assignment. And a reading assignment..."
"Nope. There is only the sidewalk... and the snow... and you're on a date... and you don't have to worry about anything..."
With that, we started exploring campus. Last time we went on a walk we explored all over the north side of campus, and it had been considerably warmer. We did a lot of random things... crossed the bridge, wandered around the Wilk, found a wall map and made each other find the other's hometowns... rummaged through the recycling receptacles looking for today's comic pages in the newspaper... drew little cartoon men... realized we weren't sure if cotton candy was just sugar or if there were something else in it... invaded a computer lab to research about cotton candy (just sugar and food coloring, apparently... the trick is the machine)... found the barber shop... rode elevators... found the flower shop... and then it was eleven'o'clock. The campus buildings close down at eleven, so we went back outside.
Walking along the sidewalk to the intersection, somehow we got on the subject of jaywalking.
"I jaywalk all the time... but only at like... four in the morning when I'm walking to work, and not a single soul is awake. You know what's fun? Dancing on the Y in the intersection here..."
We had come to the intersection, in the middle of which was a large white painted Y.
"Have you done it before?" he asked.
"Yes." And the light turned green for us to cross.
I started to cross on the crosswalk... but Ryan dashed out to the center of the intersection and started to dance maniacally. There weren't any cars that had a green light... only cars with bewildered drivers stuck at the red light. I stayed on the crosswalk, the whole time laughing at him (I didn't know what else I was supposed to do!). He danced until the light turned yellow, at which point he dashed to the other side of the street, and swung around the light pole, me laughing the whole time.
We started to walk back to our apartments, but then we saw a large icicle. Ryan decided to try and get the icicle down. He jumped up and broke it off, but of course right below the icicle was a sheet of ice. Icicle in hand, his feet went all over the place... but he didn't fall or crack his head open. "Ah! I almost got myself killed!" Hm, that would make twice in one date, within five minutes.
I kept the icicle, and we kept walking. We got to my back door. And we both ignored it. Instead... I decided I wanted to know how deep the snow was. He tried to push me into it, but I ducked in time. However, I did drop the icicle. It didn't break, but he warned that if I did break it, it would hurt his feelings. We went around to the front of my hall, where there was a large patch of snow.
We left Ryan's phone number in big writing there so that when my hallmates came out they could see it. (Unfortunately for Ryan, the whole thing got annihilated by several inches of snow that came down that night.) I left my icicle next to it in the hopes that when the sun hit it, it would reflect the sunlight and attract people's attentions.
Then we went inside... and began looking at the wood grain on people's door. We found one door pattern that looked like the Salt Lake Temple. Then... there was this one door.
"It... looks like bacon."
"Bacon?"
"Yeah... there's the dark meat in the middle, and then the strips of fat on the side, and..."
He was right. That door looked like bacon. And, of course, we had to tell our friends that lived behind that door. We knocked. And, well, I guess since it was nearly midnight, no one inside had been expecting visitors. Patrice eventually opened the door, but we had to wait for awhile. She answered groggily (we feared she had been sleeping, but no... she had been doing homework) and looked at us with a bewildered expression as we blankly informed that her door looked like bacon. She looked quite confused when we bid her adieu.
Well, guys aren't allowed in the girl's hall after midnight on Saturday... and vice versa. So guys were clearing out of the place. We kept talking, and then it was a minute 'till midnight.
"Aren't you going to leave?"
"Nope. I have a whole minute left." And then he hugged me... and he kept checking his watch... and then he hopped outside exactly as the second hand reached midnight. And then I went home, where I barely escaped getting grounded by my roommates, who had been watching chick flicks in my absence.
So this week I've done a whole bunch of homework.
And I have a date tomorrow (with Ryan, yes...). So... good night all.
I've done way too much homework in the past month, gone on three dates (there will be another tomorrow), cleaned a lot, had some good meals, and ... that's pretty much it. Sad, isn't it?
It has become popular belief (among my roommates at least) that I am way too busy for my own good. And... they're probably right, but I didn't really think there was anything I could do about it. I just kept doing homework... and more homework... and more?
Last Saturday was especially ridiculous, and I suppose I'll tell you what I can remember about it, since it pretty much sums up my current life patterns.
It was bright and sunny when I woke up that morning. And so was I. And I don't know where Ashley was. But it seemed like the opportune moment to tidy up my room. And then, after I had done that, I realized that since it was eight on a Saturday morning, I probably had several hours in the apartment to myself while my other roommates slept. So... I went grocery shopping. I spent all but seventy cents on my meal plan. I proceeded to clean the kitchen.
And then, as I was putting the dishes from the dishwasher away... I realized just how ridiculously unorganized the cupboards were...
I'm not OCD, I promise. But occasionally, when I've had enough sleep and don't have anything particularly stressful occupying my attention, I have little bouts of obsession-compulsion... this was one of those times. Definitely.
Each cupboard I opened revealed a new scene of chaos... and each would summon a shiver down my spine and a twitch in my eye. With the realization the contents of our cupboards were often in plain sight since Jackie has an odd and nasty inability to close cupboard doors once she opens them, I set out to organize them. All of them.
I discovered lots of strange surprises. Dishes that hadn't at all come clean in the dishwasher, but had been put back in the cupboard anyway. Disgustedly, I pulled these out, opened the dishwasher, and put the guilty dishes inside after scrubbing the guck off of them. I left the dishwasher open, ready to receive more offending dishes... but I would later regret this.
I'm not observant enough to know which of my roommates are guilty of all of the offending things that I found in the cupboards... but all these things did was feed the flames of my temporary-OCD-ness. I finally got up to the top shelf of the cupboard above our sink. It held a jumbled mess of what I suspected to be Tupperware.
I pulled up a chair up next to the open dishwasher, right where I could work with whatever happened to be up there. Among the mess, I found tacky, empty plastic containers like you would usually buy at the grocery store, but containing a butter spread or something.
If we were poor and used Tupperware enough that the plastic containers we did own were insufficient for the demands of our apartment's normal usage patterns... I would understand why we would keep them. But honestly... I think we have way too much Tupperware as it is. All these flimsy plastic containers were doing were collecting dust and taking up space. Oh, and provoking a nasty twitch in my right eye.
I made an executive decision to throw them out. Which required getting down off the chair and placing the offenders in the trash can. My arms laden with junk, I successfully turned around while atop the chair. But I lost grip of one the plastic things in my hand... which flew to my left, above the dishwasher.
(The following happened all within two seconds.)
I wasn't thinking. My hand reached out to grab it, and as I caught it, I realized I had just compromised my balance on the chair. Badly. I came crashing down halfway into the dishwasher.
Yelping out in pain, I leapt back up onto the chair, but not at all very gracefully. Instead of resting on the chair as I had hoped to, I realized that I hadn't landed quite as I'd hoped to... and the chair and I fell... the other way.
Crash.
I lay sprawled on the tile, the tacky plastic things crushed and broken (I told you they weren't worth keeping...). The chair creaked angrily, threatening to come apart. I moaned. I swear I must have hit or smashed every square inch of my body.
I now had an instant headache. But strangely, this was the minorest of the many hurts I now noticed. I got up slowly... threw the evil plastic fragments in the trash... and limped to the hallway.
To my surprise, none of my sleeping roommates had woken from the horrid noises I had just made.
I limped to the couch. And collapsed.
Ow. OW. Owwwwwwwww. There wasn't any blood, just a strange stinging sensation all over. My left leg hurt in particular. I think that is what collided most violently with the chair. I lifted up my pant leg... to discover that it was already purpling with what had declared itself a nasty bruise. Ugh. My right knee hurt as well (this was what I think hit the dishwasher first), but it was just pink with irritation. My hands and arms stung with pain from flailing around and unsuccessfully trying to find a handhold. My head had hit something... I think the ground.
Whatever.
At least my apartment was clean.
I spent the next several hours doing homework... namely calculus. And... more calculus. My brain was working so slowly that I'm not sure how I was thinking at all. I trudged through my homework. Problem by problem... Ugh. I was starting to get sooo mad at this homework, because I wasn't getting the right answers immediately.
It soon happens that I am trying out my hand at primal scream therapy. "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR
Ding.
'Mid textbook-throw, I look around for the source of this mysterious sound.
Ding. Ding.
Oh! My instant messenger! Someone is talking to me! I consider whether or not to answer it. I was positively fuming and might not be the most pleasant being to talk to at the moment. And it was nine'o'clock at night. Well, I decided I would rather talk to a person than to my calculus homework... I might talk more civilly to someone with feelings.
I look over at my computer screen. Hm, it's Ryan. I determine that I am not going to look at my homework for at least another half-an-hour. I glare at it angrily and I talk to him... but alas! I suppose it is impossible for me to talk to someone without leaking out how I am feeling.
Ryan inquires what I've been doing all day... I reply, Homework. What kind? Calculus. Just calculus? Yes... all day... and I'm not done! And I have more! I've got physics and biology and health and dance and... All day? How long is all day? Six hours on calculus.
Hmm... usually when something takes me all day, it means I need a break, Ryan says.
I don't have time for a break! I'm never going to be done with all this homework! Never! Neeevvvveeerrr!
Ryan obviously disagreed. Wanna go an a walk?
A walk? Hm. Here is where that horrible moment where your brain splits into two distinct voices and they start arguing.
No. Don't do it. You have way too much to do. Way too much.
Aw, but I'm sick and tired of calculus. It isn't even interesting, or fun, or cute, or...
You'll never get done. If you go on a walk, you won't be able to do any more homework tonight, and you'll have to do it on Sunday!
Or... I could do it Monday morning. I can't go on walk then...
NO! You promised yourself you would finish all your homework BEFORE Monday. BEFORE! That means TONIGHT!
But I haven't been on a date with him for... two whole weeks?
YOU'RE TOO BUSY!!!
But I told him no to that date on Thursday and he was really sad...
You were too busy... and you're even busier now... you have two midterms next week.
It's nine, and I've been working allllll day!
At this point, one voice kicks the other's shin.
Shut up. I'm going.
So... I go out into the cold outside. So incredibly cold. It's like... twenty degrees... (warmer than last week, but still). But... I don't feel cold. I imagine if you could see stress, you'd see them radiating off of me like heat waves.
We start walking. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm fine, I just have (insert incredibly long list of things to do before Monday here)..." I think I was hyperventilating... or something.
He looked at me sideways-like. "Jenna. I am not a physics assignment."
Ahhh! Physics! Oh no. "Oh no no no no... I have a physics midterm this week. And a physics homework assignment. And a reading assignment..."
"Nope. There is only the sidewalk... and the snow... and you're on a date... and you don't have to worry about anything..."
With that, we started exploring campus. Last time we went on a walk we explored all over the north side of campus, and it had been considerably warmer. We did a lot of random things... crossed the bridge, wandered around the Wilk, found a wall map and made each other find the other's hometowns... rummaged through the recycling receptacles looking for today's comic pages in the newspaper... drew little cartoon men... realized we weren't sure if cotton candy was just sugar or if there were something else in it... invaded a computer lab to research about cotton candy (just sugar and food coloring, apparently... the trick is the machine)... found the barber shop... rode elevators... found the flower shop... and then it was eleven'o'clock. The campus buildings close down at eleven, so we went back outside.
Walking along the sidewalk to the intersection, somehow we got on the subject of jaywalking.
"I jaywalk all the time... but only at like... four in the morning when I'm walking to work, and not a single soul is awake. You know what's fun? Dancing on the Y in the intersection here..."
We had come to the intersection, in the middle of which was a large white painted Y.
"Have you done it before?" he asked.
"Yes." And the light turned green for us to cross.
I started to cross on the crosswalk... but Ryan dashed out to the center of the intersection and started to dance maniacally. There weren't any cars that had a green light... only cars with bewildered drivers stuck at the red light. I stayed on the crosswalk, the whole time laughing at him (I didn't know what else I was supposed to do!). He danced until the light turned yellow, at which point he dashed to the other side of the street, and swung around the light pole, me laughing the whole time.
We started to walk back to our apartments, but then we saw a large icicle. Ryan decided to try and get the icicle down. He jumped up and broke it off, but of course right below the icicle was a sheet of ice. Icicle in hand, his feet went all over the place... but he didn't fall or crack his head open. "Ah! I almost got myself killed!" Hm, that would make twice in one date, within five minutes.
I kept the icicle, and we kept walking. We got to my back door. And we both ignored it. Instead... I decided I wanted to know how deep the snow was. He tried to push me into it, but I ducked in time. However, I did drop the icicle. It didn't break, but he warned that if I did break it, it would hurt his feelings. We went around to the front of my hall, where there was a large patch of snow.
We left Ryan's phone number in big writing there so that when my hallmates came out they could see it. (Unfortunately for Ryan, the whole thing got annihilated by several inches of snow that came down that night.) I left my icicle next to it in the hopes that when the sun hit it, it would reflect the sunlight and attract people's attentions.
Then we went inside... and began looking at the wood grain on people's door. We found one door pattern that looked like the Salt Lake Temple. Then... there was this one door.
"It... looks like bacon."
"Bacon?"
"Yeah... there's the dark meat in the middle, and then the strips of fat on the side, and..."
He was right. That door looked like bacon. And, of course, we had to tell our friends that lived behind that door. We knocked. And, well, I guess since it was nearly midnight, no one inside had been expecting visitors. Patrice eventually opened the door, but we had to wait for awhile. She answered groggily (we feared she had been sleeping, but no... she had been doing homework) and looked at us with a bewildered expression as we blankly informed that her door looked like bacon. She looked quite confused when we bid her adieu.
Well, guys aren't allowed in the girl's hall after midnight on Saturday... and vice versa. So guys were clearing out of the place. We kept talking, and then it was a minute 'till midnight.
"Aren't you going to leave?"
"Nope. I have a whole minute left." And then he hugged me... and he kept checking his watch... and then he hopped outside exactly as the second hand reached midnight. And then I went home, where I barely escaped getting grounded by my roommates, who had been watching chick flicks in my absence.
So this week I've done a whole bunch of homework.
And I have a date tomorrow (with Ryan, yes...). So... good night all.
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