Still kickin'

I think someone is trying to kill me, but whoever it is is not doing a very good job. I have had quite a few scares lately; I have had a number of what feel like to me near-death experiences. Granted, I am still a teenager, and as such the stories may be a bit exaggerated. But since I began living in "the city" I have considered obtaining life insurance. For instance, where I am from, there are no exaggerated hills that people insist on building upon, much less place a college campus. One night, not long after my arrival, I go off to visit a friend of mine. Skipping down the hill I go. Unaccustomed to having the ground fall out from under me, my dear beloved feet decide to improve dance and I end up with a swollen ankle the size of a grapefruit sitting in the hospital from about 11pm to 3am. On top of that I had a paper due and so I sat in the hospital waiting room trying to get it done before 8am class.

Instance number two, not as specific or dramatic, but still frightening. DO PEOPLE IN UTAH KNOW HOW TO DRIVE?! Seriously, I've seen the most erratic and odd things in this place. A dear friend of mine, with whom I have no qualms with her driving skills, said to me in the defense of the great state of Utah that it is filled with so many tourists and college students that are unfamiliar with Utah traffic laws, so when they see something different, they are unaware that the witnessed maneuver (or hand signal) is perfectly legal. But at the rate I have seen people drive, I have yet to see any law observed. The other night I was walking to Wendy's about a mile or so away from my home. I observed the little white man on the crosswalk light and the little simulated bird telling me it was ok to cross, so I went. Apparently the car who's misfortune landed him at the red light became impatient. He zoomed forward, screeched on his brakes, apparently now aware that there IS a pedestrian using the LEGAL crosswalk but was still going so fast that he sped just a yard or so in front of me. At first I thought it could have been a glitch with the lights. No such luck for the idiot. The light was still red.


Instance number three (this one I found to be more funny than dangerous). I was walking up the hill to campus on this long, HOT day, when I hear this loud POP! and the cry of a small child. It was FAR too loud to be a balloon- I know what that sounds like. I also know what a gunshot sounds like. I literally turned around to see who or what was shot and to desperately look for cover. All I saw were the cars at the intersection hardly stopping for one another or the pedestrians, and a mother with a twin stroller. Apparently one of the tires on her stroller spontaneously blew up or something, hence the loud air-popping noise that echoed off the cement walls. I asked her if I could help in any way, she politely declined. I was still trying hard not to laugh at myself.

But the clincher, and this one has been building up all semester, would have to be the Finals conspiracy. See, BYU accepts really smart kids, but still turn away thousands of applicants. So they try to kill the rest of us off so their acceptance rates increase along with tuition income. How do you kill a smart kid? By making him feel unsmart. This plan is so brilliant, its disguise tries to imply that it is really just making the smart kids smarter, making them work harder, 'building character.' The course material and content is twice as great, the exams designed so that it is impossible to obtain an A, and the finals- all you can do is pray and hope you remembered to pay your tithing this month. Today this conspiracy came at me from both sides. I had walked all the way up to the Wilkinson Center, shuffling through the masses of people eating and studying and moving boxes, when I realized that my student ID card left itself at home. I had to go all the way back through the blazing temperatures and hustle of people to my apartment, search for my card and get back to the Wilkinson Center all in twenty minutes before the test closed. I got there just in time. Closing time was not going to send this girl home empty handed today. Immediately following, I raced down to the testing center for my next target, only to find that the line at the testing center, and I assure you, this is NO exaggeration, was 1/4 to 1/2 a mile long. It wound around the footmazes upstairs, down the hall and out the back door, beyond the Joseph Smith building, down the sidewalk between the Benson building and ESC, and even rumored to reach the MARB at one point. At the rate students were joining, you would think Disneyland had relocated and built Splash Mountain inside the testing center. I got in line when it was a bit shorter- just in front of the JSB and I waited for nearly an hour and a half. A friend of mine waited for two and a half. By the time I was out, I had less than 40 minutes to prep and review for my scheduled 2-hour final that evening. I did my best, and that is all that I can give. C's get degrees, and D is for Diploma my friend. If needs be that I retake a class, I will be ready, I will be waiting.

So I haven't died yet and have no reason to, unless after my recent habit of staying up late causes me to sleep myself to death. It's probably not a good idea to post this, giving my mother the idea that I am in mortal danger every day living in this jungle, especially since I am trying to convince her that I should get a donor- I mean motorcycle this summer. Right Mom, I know, you trust me, you just don't trust them. Well, place all your worry aside! I've been duking it out since I got here, and I'm still alive and kicking, aren't I?

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." --Psalms 23:4