this small, small world we live in

The other day I was walking along through campus (tra-la-la) and I saw this guy and I did a double take and thought, "that looks a lot like--nah, couldn't be." I thus carried on my merry way.

Well today I was driving to school and I saw him again! This time I knew my eyes weren't deceiving me. I yelled at him, and he yelled back, but he was crossing the street and I was in my car so the conversation didn't go much further. 

But alas, I walked out of my first class and lo and behold there he was again. Mind you, this is a school of 30,000 students.  This time I got to talk to him briefly, yet long enough to exchange numbers. 

So here's the kicker, I got in my car to leave for the day 3 hours later and guess who I see walkin' down the street. Yep. 

So who is the character, you ask? My first boyfriend from 7th grade. 

Why am I telling this story? First of all, I mean, what are the chances really? Last time I checked he was in Lubbock and I was in Utah. 

Second of all, while I was laughing about the comedy of events, and recollecting the foibles of pubescent romance, I had the horrific realization that 7th grade was ten years ago. TEN! 1-0. How is this possible? 

Growing up is the weirdest thing ever.


Rain, rain, come my way

I walked out of class the other day to find a bunch of people huddled under an awning, on their cell phones cursing the rain they weren't prepared for. I looked over to see a light drizzle falling from the sky. Only wielding my favorite navy, zip-up hoodie, I smiled, popped my hood and walked out into the drizzle of doom. About half way to my destination I took my hood off and just let the rain fall. It was wonderful. I couldn't stop smiling. 

Yesterday on my way to the temple, I stopped by LDS Books to peruse a little bit. I walked out with two wonderful CDs and again the rain was falling. It didn't even bother me that I had straightened my hair or that I had nothing to cover my church clothes with. My first reaction was to stick my arms straight out to the side and let it fall. 

For most people, their love for the rain stems from the fact that we've been in a drought pretty much all summer. For me it stems from 18 months of walking around rain or shine, getting splashed by cars, with soaked shoes, looking like drowned rats, all to preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ that "perhaps we might be the means of saving some soul; and we supposed that our joy would be full if perhaps we could be the means of saving some." Alma 26:30    

I'll admit that before my mission I probably would have cursed the rain just like everyone else, especially if I had actually done my hair that day. Now, however, the rain is a sweet reminder of more important things.


It's official, I'm allergic to Texas

If not Texas at large, for sure Denton. I've been itching like crazy ever since I moved here!

The result of my scratching is these lovely little spots, mostly on my back. They are burning as I type.

So, I've begun planning my escape route outta here. The details are still a little fuzzy, but may include EFY, a December graduation, and a foreign country or two. In the meantime, feel free to send a back scratch-er my way!