Archive for September 23rd, 2009

September 23rd, 2009

my un-friends

I’ve been on this campus going on four years now. I have spent an unbelievable amount of time people-watching in the library. There are people who have shared these four years with me who have no idea I exist, but I know and love them. I have nicknames for all these people; the quirky people that I have seen repeatedly on campus or around Rexburg over the years. I realized while I was making a list of these “friends” that I have, that some of their nicknames may come across as mockery or mean, but I promise that I have no ill feelings toward any of them; I’m actually quite happy when I see them again at the beginning of the semester. I’m even happier when they sit next to me at a computer lab or somewhere and I know little things about their lives and they have no idea. Yes, it’s kind of stalkerish, just remember that I don’t follow these people home or anything, I just observe.

My friends:

Stevie-Dave (he’s actually graduated now, but he was one of the first and most quirky)

Mr. Big Voice (also graduated, miss his voice)

Touchy-feely (still here, married)

Val Kilmer (I haven’t actually seen him for a little while, I hope he’s not gone)

Lizard Boy (just returned from a two year mission)

Burnt Caramel (the same color head to toe with pink lipgloss somewhere in the lip region)

Quasimodo (sweetest man ever)

Ursala (sometimes scary)

Beach Boy Ken & Malibu Barbie (really cute couple, Ken could also be Hercules)

Model Girl (she’s so perfectly beautiful that she’s still single)

September 23rd, 2009

another driving note

Our car had a very loud rattle/rumble for months. It became the characteristic sound that communicated “Matt and Ashley are out and about.” We had grown accustomed to listening to the rumble and grumbling to ourselves about it.

Last weekend while I was driving 85 mph down the highway looking out the rear-view window, I noticed something flat and metal fly out from under our car. I slowed down to see if I could detect something wrong with our car…the car kept driving, same as always, no smoke or sounds of impending danger.

Our car no longer has a rumble. I find it very ironic that this took place while I was driving and not Matt, based on our driving stats. Of all the times the little metal thing could have flown off the car, it was while I was driving.

September 23rd, 2009

meeting my hero

I saw her. I listened to every presentation she gave while she was on campus. I gave her directions to the restroom. I shook her hand.

I was nervous to go and listen to her presentations; I didn’t want to be disappointed to find that she’s a jerk, just a regular person, or something else. She’s incredible. Lois Lowry deserves every ounce of respect that she gets. Her insights on our life experiences were honest and inspirational. As she began to speak, I would relax deeper into my chair and just listen. Most people can write and talk, but she has the words. She knows how to use words in a way that carries you to somewhere far from where you really are; she makes you listen.

It was wonderful to sit and listen to the charm and grace of a generation past. She was raised in the World War II era; a time when radios were still a staple in every home, when black and white was the only camera setting, when television was still new and exciting, when girls still wore dresses and ribbons, when literature really meant something. I love that she grew up in a forsaken way of life and writes for the children who will determine the future.

I spent most of Friday and Saturday with her, knowing in the back of my mind that I wanted to get a book for her to sign. I figured that if she was going to sign my book, I wanted it to be hardcover. I searched Rexburg high and low for a hardcover copy of any of her books with no success. I went back to the school where the bookstore had several for sale. When I returned to purchase just a regular paperback, I was told that they were all sold out. I was so disappointed. It meant so much to me that she signed a book for me.

It was 3:15 when I left Rexburg to go to the Barnes and Noble in Idaho Falls (30 minutes away), and Lois Lowry was going to stop signing books at 4:30. I drove about 75 mph in a 65 mph zone (yes, it meant enough to speed). I arrived at Barnes and Noble, literally ran into the store and asked the first store clerk where The Giver was. There were only two copies left. I bought them both and ran to the car. When 4:20 rolled around and I couldn’t see the Rexburg exit, I started going 85 mph. I’m glad I didn’t get pulled over, then again, I don’t really don’t trust our speedometer. I ran into the building with my two books at 4:29. I held the last two books she signed.

my book