Friday, October 21, 2011

Repent Ye, Repent Ye!

Today I was walking (crutch-ing) up to the library to do some homework. Just as I was about 12 feet away from the doors, two guys came out, opening both the double doors. I watched as both of them let the doors swing shut right in front of me. The girl who was walking behind me rushed ahead and opened the doors for me before I could do it myself.

I don't need people to hold the door open for me, but it's a kind gesture that saves me time and energy. Though I'm getting really good at being on crutches, doors are still challenging and I appreciate the help. Having said that, what the crap guys?! How were you so clueless that you didn't see the kid in the 26" brace who was right in front of you?! Hint: I was the one on crutches. It was disappointing because they were oblivious to everything but themselves.

We come home from missions, we go to Elders Quorum and Relief Society and we study our scriptures. We talk about virtues and ways to improve. But, we wake up in the morning, look at our "To Do" lists, and put on our blinders. If I pray morning and night for opportunities to lift others and serve then I should leave the blinders at home.

I wonder how many times I've prayed for opportunities to serve and then walked right past them because I was late to class/hungry/day-dreaming. No more blinders. No more letting the door slam in the face of people who need my help.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Bwahaha! I win.

I have been wearing a cast for the past three weeks. I'll just say that it has been a good experience, but it's been hard. Crutches stink, and not being able to use your leg also stinks. But yesterday I switched doctors and I'm getting the cast off tomorrow. Turns out it's good to get a second opinion.

I was just sitting here at my computer working away when I got a magical text message from the student health center. It said "reminder: You have an appointment with Dr. Schow tomorrow at 9:00 AM". I smiled really big, leaned back in my chair, and pressed repeat on La Vie en Rose by Louis Armstong.

Then, over gChat, I pretended to plan with my friend a day trip to Paris. Because when I'm pretending, I'm rich and have a private jet. And we eat at a little cafe where we can watch the sunset over Paris and listen to some uncharacteristically good musician on the street corner. And since we're pretending to be rich, we give that musician a really nice tip. But, we're only pretending.
You know what isn't pretending though? I'm getting this dumb cast off tomorrow. And that might as well be a Paris sunset as far as I'm concerned.

Monday, October 3, 2011


Dear Future Wife,

Sometimes I get angry and send text messages, emails, or letters that I will regret moments after clicking send. They tell me that recognizing it is the first step. They haven't told me what the second step is though...

Your mission, should you choose to accept it: Proof-read my angry texts, emails, letters, and correspondences. In return, I'll run interference between you and the rest of the world when your hormones are going crazy. Deal?


Your Future Husband

Holy Crap!

In my dresser, in the fourth drawer down, I have a pair of pants I reserve for special occasions - my sassy pants. I used them just last Monday when a kid who used to live at our house walked in, opened my cupboard and took some of my baking supplies. In the next drawer down, under everything else (I don't wear them often) are my more special *Insert string of expletives* pants. On Friday, I got them out, dusted them off, and took 'em for a ride to Doctor Smith's office.

I expected him to tell me the injury I sustained playing ultimate frisbee was nothing, or maybe that we would have to do some scans to check for cartilage damage. After 50 minutes of waiting I went and asked the lovely young lady why I was still waiting for the right honorable doctor. She said she didn't know. Luckily, the doctor chose that crucial moment to appear.

The doctor began by telling me I have an Osteochondrital dissecans, or a piece of my knee had chipped off. He told me that I'd have to wear a 26" cast on my leg for the next six weeks and walk around exclusively on crutches. He then picked up the phone and recorded his notes from the visit while the nurse told me to lift my leg so she could attach the brace/cast. Within 10 minutes of walking in, I was crutch-ing out of there in a complete daze. I could have been standing in the Himalayas with a beer in my hand, naked with my head shaved and I probably wouldn't have realized it. But, in his defense, the doctor had places to go.

In his hurry, he forgot to give me a handicapped parking permit form. So, for the last 4 days I've had to park at the bottom of the hill leading up to campus and then begin a 10 minute crutch-assisted walk up the hill and stairs to get to class/work/take tests etc. After walking up the hill and checking out my gigantic blisters, I wanted to punch that doctor in the face repeatedly then give him a handicapped parking permit.

That doctor and I are going to have a level 5 Come to Jesus Meeting next time we chat. Or maybe I'll just shave his head and leave him naked in the Himalayas...with a non-alcoholic beer in his hand. I bet that will open up his schedule quite a bit.