smashed family heirlooms

Where to begin? I wish I had the patience of some people I know to draft out their blogs, but I don't. I just sit down and start typing, which must be unhealthy.

Brilliant reading on Saturday. I ran into LLarsen today (or LanceL if you prefer). I'm not sure what possessed him to ask about my weekend, but he did. And I'm not sure what possessed me to tell him that I hosted a poetry reading, but I did. And now I've moved up a few points on the Pritchard scale of stupidity.

Confession: I was not looking forward to Saturday. Well, I was from Thursday night to Saturday morning. And then I woke up to a text saying that someone wasn't going to be coming. I woke up to text that he wasn't coming and my clock reading 12:45. Why can't I just wake up? Morning and I do not get along and I'm supposed to teach at 8:00 this summer. Pray for me.

So the reading went well--not surprisingly, considering that I had begged a few people to come and they came--and a surprise guest made the evening totally worth it. (I almost typed "surprised"--should I have left it?) I did, however, realize that everyone has heard everything of mine and so am beginning new poems. I have a whole notebook of titles and ideas and not one place to start from. But I'm working on it and I'm sure we'll all survive. And then Sunday came.

Sunday, Sunday. 10:00 a.m. meeting with the second counselor. I woke up at 9:45. Made it there by 10:05 and waited five more minutes. Brother Lunt emerged from the bishop's office and we went into another room for the interview. My mind was considering all possibilities (teaching gig, teaching gig, please let it be a teaching gig)--or one possibility. No such luck.

BL: So how are you?
eg: Good.
BL: Good. (awkward pause) How old are you?
eg: I'm 22.
BL: Okay, so no mission.
eg: Nope.
BL: That's okay. (pause) When was your birthday?
eg: Um--it's next month.
BL: Oh, so I'm ahead. (realizes eg has no idea why she's sitting there) Did you know this was a birthday interview?
eg thinks: What the hell?
eg says: No.
BL: Oh, well, that's what it is.
eg: Okay.
BL: Are you dating anyone in the ward?

I'll leave you all with that cliffhanger--because it's a stupid question. And because my arm hurts, my head hurts, and the whole point of this stupid post was going to be that he didn't come on Saturday, so I decided no more men, and then I flirted like a madwoman after church. So the real question is: Can one swear off men but still flirt?