Bye bye Hye

(WARNING: THIS BLOG IS NOT SHORT, LIKE SOME PEOPLE (TYLER) LIKE)

It's my last night with my roommate, Hyesun. I'm scared. It's like moving in all over again. I was so worried about meeting my roommate when I was getting ready to come to college, and now I have to go through it once more, I think. I don't even know if I'm getting a new roommate. I could be by myself for the rest of the semester, which I wouldn't mind at all. The benefits of having the room to myself:
1. On Saturdays I can sleep for eternity without being woken by the moving about of a mate.
2. I won't have to turn down my music or put in my headphones every time my roommate walks in.
3. I can rearrange the room with the two beds are next to each other so my bed is suddenly giant! YES!!! I HADN'T EVEN THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE!!
4. I already don't talk much, and with no one here to talk to I won't feel guilty for it.
5. I take it back; I do talk a lot, but mostly to myself. Or I sing. But again, it's best to be alone for such activities.
6. I sleep talk. I know I do because I sometimes wake myself up doing it. Maybe that's why she's moving out. On the 2nd or 3rd day I asked her if I had been sleep talking but she just smiled and continued doing what she had been doing. She didn't understand English very well then.
7. There will be no secret battles over control of the thermostat. No losing battles, at that. She turns it up. She walks into the bathroom. I turn it down, slightly, so that maybe she won't notice. My temperature still goes up to 100 degrees so I leave for a bit because she likes the heat. I come back and it's off, but it smells like Christmas. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but Christmas in October was a little early. The only time I get the guts to turn it off while she's in the room is when she has fallen asleep. I'm brave then. I just want her to be comfortable, really. I don't want to be an annoying roommate that ruins her stay in the U.S. by freezing her brains out every day. Heh.
8. I can keep the light until I go to bed instead of being courteous by going by my lamp once my roomy goes to bed.

Conversation between Michelle Gilmore and me:
"Bill Clinton was at my school the other day."
"Really?"
"Yeah. But I wasn't there. Plus it was 50 bucks to get in. He was raisin' money for The Wife."
"Why, ' she have cancer or something?"
This is what BYU does to people.
Jk.

Today at the HC as I was eating a bowl of Lucky Charms and reading my book Tender Mercies, I overheard a group at the table behind me say "mission prep class" and "marriage prep class" so I listened for a minute. I like eavesdropping. I gathered from those terms that they were probably LDS. The conversation ended up being quite boring so I tuned them out again and went back to my book. (Side note: It's odd that I even heard them say those words. When I'm reading I tune out everything around me. But of course, if someone said "Jessie" or "Megan" I would hear it. (Megan is the name a boy on my floor calls me, just because he thinks I look more like a Megan.) But I had been tuning out their entire conversation until suddenly my brain registered the LDS terms. It's weird what my brain chooses to hear.) Back to the moment of tuning back into my book after hearing boring conversation: After finishing my bowl of Lucky Charms I got up to bring the bowl to the revolving rack. I looked at the table whose conversation I had heard. I wouldn't have guessed they were LDS. Not that they appeared not to be, necessarily, but I thought I was getting better at determining who was and who wasn't based off of looks, like a lot of out of statesmen can do. So now I'm curious. I want to know specific things those people look at/for to determine whether or not someone is LDS. There's that Conference Talk by President Faust in which he talks about an experience where someone said there was "a light in their eyes," referring to the LDS people that person had met. But besides that vague idea I don't know how else to tell. Not that it matters in the least sense; it's not like I talk to the Mormons and not to anyone else. I don't even talk to the Mormons. Hah. I'm just curious.

I like the line in Across The Universe "Music is the only thing that makes sense anymore."

Another eavesdropping story: As I ate a bagel and read my book at the Union yesterday, I listened to a girl at the table in front of me. She was on the phone telling a funny story: The night before, she walked into her apartment/dorm/what not and shut the door. As she turned around, her roommate or someone in the room gasped and a half a second later the girl was hit in the head and shoulder by the TV. It fell off of whatever it was sitting on and had probably been inching toward the edge every time the door shut. To make it even sadder/funnier, on top of the TV had been a multiple cactuses, and as the TV fell, they fell. These cactuses attacked the girl and she spent the next 30 minutes having cactus needles pulled out of her face, even her eyelids! by her roommates. Funny huh! And sad, of course. But she said the TV still works fine and she didn't seem to have any brain damage or anything, so I deem it mostly funny.

Seeing a happy couple makes me happy and sad. I just hate the fact that almost any given couple has probably fought or will probably fight at some point. In fact, one of them if not both will probably cry because of it. And that makes me feel really, really bad. I don't like seeing them so happy and picturing one yelling at the other, or one crying silently while the other sits and watches not knowing how to fix what has happened. I want them to be happy. Everyone in the world cries. It's terrible. I wish I could befriend every crying person and make him or her laugh just once. I hate hate hate being sad, and hate seeing other people sad. I would say I hate the very emotion, but without feeling extreme sadness, I wouldn't feel extreme happiness. So I'm grateful for it, as much as I hate it.

What a pleasant surprise! In front of my clock is an open pack of Orbit gum. When I looked at the time it read 2:35 and I thought, "bloody, I have class in 5 hours." But then I looked again and saw the tip of a 1 above the Orbit pack! It's only 12:35! Class isn't for 7 hours! Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln, I'm going to bed.

11.13.7 (well, 11.14.7 technically)