TToML 2: Not Hypothermia

This story requires anonymity because I know the parties involved would be embarrassed if I outed them. But it's too good of a story not to share.

So at one point in my college career, one of my roommates, Sally, started dating this boy she really liked. We were all so excited and thrilled for her.

Well, things progressed nicely. First he put his arm around her and they snuggled. This led to holding hands. Which led to a good night kiss. Which led to...more kissing.

One day Sally came home from school and grabbed me. She told me of an incident that had happened that day where someone asked her if she was cold because her lips were blue. The first chance she got she had found a bathroom and witnessed first hand that her lips were indeed a shade of purplish, blue. You know, the color of a bruise...or a hickey. She was mortified. "He didn't even kiss me that hard!" she assured me.

Well, we tried to figure out a way that she could hide her blue lips. Thankfully it was winter and turtle necks and scarves could inconspicuously hide other secrets. But lips? That's a bit trickier. She refused to wear lipstick, which I think would have easily solved the problem. In the end Sally decided to just hope it had faded enough and that the lights would be dim enough that nobody would notice when she went over to his place that night.

And her plan might have worked...had it not been for Jane.

Everyone was sitting at the kitchen table, making dinner, chatting, etc. when the boy came to pick Sally up that night. He too joined the social activities in the kitchen and that was when Jane very loudly cut through the rest of the conversation going on and blurted, "Did you see what you did to her lips?!"

I have never seen a scene pause like that one did. Everyone in the room seriously froze where they were and moved just their eyeballs toward the boy to see how he would react. And Sally. The awkwardness in that kitchen was seriously so thick that you could have cut it with a knife.

This moment that seems like it was about a minute in my memory was probably only about .39 seconds. Boy said, "Uh.." and then Jane quickly changed topic and said something like, "Did anyone want to watch insert movie title here tonight?"

Everyone started to breathe again, but there was still enough awkward floating around that I had to excuse myself to silently laugh in a place where nobody else would see.

It's needless to say that Sally never came home with blue lips again. Or else she just figured out how to hide it from all of us.

The Time of My Life 1: A Disappearing Act

Alright. My first story takes us back to August 2009. It was the beginning of my sophomore year. I had just moved into apartment 110 of Roman Gardens with Marjorie, Lindsay, and Amy.

Actually, I've gotta give you a bit of a back story first. The previous winter, our freshman year, we had gotten into a prank war with an apartment of boys in our ward. One of our pranks included buying 6 travel alarm clocks, setting them for random times throughout the hours of the night that one should be sleeping, and hiding them in various places all over their apartment. (Sadly the plan and execution of hiding the clocks were all that was good...between the low volume of the alarms and doing it on the eve of a holiday from school it was an unsuccessful prank.) Well, at the end of it all, we were left with 6 alarm clocks. I claimed one to use for myself because I was in need of a new one. And I hate the complicated, obnoxious blaring things that alarms have become nowadays.

Ok, now we're actually to August 2009. Marjorie and I were sharing a room. I was still using said alarm clock. Now, this alarm clock had a second hand on it that ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick. I thought it soothing and kind of liked listening to it as I fell asleep. After finding it shoved under a pillow a couple times I starting thinking though that maybe Marjorie didn't.

So we had been living in 110 for, maybe five days or so. We were still in the atrocious unpacking stage where the floors of all the rooms are just covered in boxes and all of your worldly possessions. And then...it happened.

I had my alarm clock sitting on the dresser that was next to our window at the time. We had the window open to air out the strange smell that had seemingly come with the apartment. And I came in the room...and heard silence. No noise. Nothing.

I rushed to my alarm clock to see what was the matter. Why did it stop?! I popped open the back, and *gasp* nothing! The batteries had VANISHED.

I dashed back to the living room and frantically asked, "Do any of you guys know what happened to the batteries in my alarm clock?" Everyone looked at me blankly. They were not aware yet of the heinous crime. I explained that the batteries had disappeared out of my alarm clock and asked again if any of them knew anything about it. They all claimed they didn't know.

After talking to them it was obvious what had happened.

A hobo had come and reached through my window, taken the batteries out of my alarm clock, and left the clock there, dead. He didn't want me to wake up on time. What an evil hobo.

I think I went on kind of believing that something like that happened for quite a while. I was almost convinced that it was the only reasonable explanation since my roommates didn't seem to know what had happened to the batteries. Someone must have reached in through the window and taken them. Or it was a ghost. We had one of those who followed us. His name was Clarence.

Alas, it was a mystery. One that I didn't think would be solved until that day after you die when you get to watch the movie of your life and everything makes sense.

Fast forward....let's say a year and a half. I don't remember exactly when this happened, but it was a significant amount of time later.

Marjorie and I were chatting one time. Like we did a lot. Just talking about anything and everything. Then she turned to me and with a serious look on her face said, "Stephanie. I have something to confess to you." That's one of those things that I never quite know how to take. Is it gonna be a good confession? A bad one? Am I gonna be angry? Excited? WHAT KIND OF CONFESSION?

"You remember that time the batteries from your alarm clock disappeared...? It wasn't a hobo...it was me."

I still remember that I was so shocked! I had mostly forgotten about the incident. Once in a while it was brought up when we were talking about mysterious things that happened. But I thought it was exactly that: a mystery. I really didn't think that it had been one of my roommates. They had been so convincing all the time, acting like they had no idea what had happened either.

Marjorie and I laughed so hard that night. Still to this day I don't know how I legitimately thought someone was so desperate for a pair of AA batteries that they had to reach in our window and steal them from my alarm clock. And it also explained the two random batteries that we found in our closet when we moved out.

The Time of My Life

Ok, I know I already did a post where I referenced this song, but it's so good I just have to use it again. I was brainstorming what my "clever title" could be that I promised last night.... I'm gonna let you in on a little secret...I'm not very clever. I was not abundantly blessed with creativity. So naturally I turned to my music, and I remembered this song. It fits. I'm at that point where time has dragged me away from the life that I knew. But here I'm going to be reliving my college experience through telling these stories. (Refer to my last post if you want more of an explanation of my mini-project.)

And these stories represent The Time of My Life.

"Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)"

Green Day

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road

Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go

So make the best of this test, and don't ask why

It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life.

So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind

Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time

Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial

For what it's worth it was worth all the while

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.

I hope you had the time of your life.

Crazy Girl

See that girl right there? That's gonna be me very soon if things don't change.

Maybe it should be me anyways. I think I'm a bit more crazy than I like to let show.

This week....rough. Watching everyone else go back to Provo without me: torture. Especially because there was a ticket with my name on it to go back.

Being home sucks. I get up in the morning...and then what do I do? Exactly. I don't know either. I get on my computer about every ten minutes...nope. Nobody has posted anything on facebook since last time. Nor has anyone blogged.

I read a lot. I've read like 4 or 5 books already since the break started. And I've got 3 that I'm currently working on. That's how bored I am...I can't even be happy with just reading one book. I've gotta have 3 different things going on to keep my brain interested.

I guess I find other ways to occupy my time, but it's not enough. The past two or three days have been tense. I hate being home. After living by myself for so long it sucks to have to be under someone else's roof again, even if they are your parents. I like it when my every move isn't questioned or monitored. I like it when I'm not pestered for doing something or made fun of for...never mind. Roommates made fun of me almost nonstop (usually for good reason). It just is more tolerable coming from them for some reason.

Not to mention that I'm waiting on my mission call. It's more frustrating than you can even understand unless you've been in a similar situation.... I feel like I'm just kind of in limbo right now. I'm stranded here at home until.........? No idea. I don't know where I'm going, I don't know when I'm leaving, but I know that I am going to be getting out of here at some point, hopefully in the very near future. It's just hard not knowing what kinds of plans to make, not even really knowing what kinds of preparations to make. What if I go to Russia? What about Hawaii? Peru? Hong Kong? Iowa? Yeah, I can guarantee that my suitcase would be extremely different for each of those places. I'm praying that it comes tomorrow.

Ok, so the point of this post wasn't really to rant and rave and prove my insanity (although it's doing just that). I was going to be explaining my new blog project. Last May I did a mini-series where I posted a new life lesson (almost) every day about stuff I had learned since being in college. Well folks, brace yourselves for the newest mini-series.

I haven't devised a name yet, but for the month of January I'm going to be sharing stories from my years spent at college. A story a day. The purpose: to entertain. Both you and me. I'm hoping that most of these stories will be humorous. I know that they will be at least for me and those of my readers who are reliving them with me. I just know that if I don't find at least one constant thing that I can do to keep my mind occupied and grounded every day (writing) I will end up in a straight jacket.

So tomorrow...expect my first story. Along with a clever title for this mini-series.

And the inspiration for this post comes from one of my current country faves. I will waltz to this song at my wedding if I can help it. Enjoy.

Hello 2012

Well...so much for everything I went though in 2011.

A new year has brought....

a new love.

Yes, I fell in love tonight with one Sam Nelson. If I was going back to BYU this week like everyone else, I would make it my life goal to track down this kid, woo him, and marry him.

Ok ok ok....so love is a bit of a strong word. But seriously...after watching this documentary about him and his brother, who doesn't have a crush on at least one of them?

That's just a taste. The whole thing is an hour and a half and it's adorable. These guys are amazing and I want to be like them.