My sister is behind me running on a treadmill. Running. On. A Treadmill. I blame BYU. The only time I ever worked out was while attending BYU study abroad. Something about living with 40 Mormon princesses (love you guys!) all competing to be the skinniest. I told Laura that people who work out die early, with evidence being that all the previous generations of Nielson/Wright women ....
Pause. Laura JUST FELL OFF THE TREADMILL. THIS IS HOW PEOPLE DIE EARLY.
...anyway, previous generations of Nielson/Wright women have shunned traditional exercise* for years and lived to be 101. Don't mess with success, Laura.
*Shopping is exercise. As is wandering aimlessly.
Anyway, speaking of the London roomies, I recently went to a very fun reunion with them. And their long-suffering spouses. I told my super awkward story to them. While I was telling them the awkwardness, I found myself wondering, "Why am I telling people this? This is horrible!" Then I realized
1. My London roommates have heard/seen worse from me.
2. It is very cathartic to tell awkward stories after the fact. It's like group therapy. For Free. Which is a big deal to me because therapy for the uninsured is expensive.
On that note, I will share another story that reveals my penchant for awkward and/or extremely stupid. Proceed.
Once upon a time I had to do a Senior Thesis, a big scary paper the History Department makes you produce in order to graduate. I wrote the very long thing last summer, with the aid of 30 or so books from the Marriot Library. I turned in the paper, got the A, and forgot about the books. They were hidden in a huge purse from my grandma and shoved in the corner of the room.
Last week I got a very nasty letter from the Marriot Library charging me approximately 100 dollars per lost book.
Yeah. You did the math right. That much.
Panic ensued. My first thought was to hide the letter with the books. (Honestly, first thought, hide and deny, I have got to apply for a position in the Bush administration.) My second thought was to pawn off my wedding ring, because that's about how much the fine was for. Then I thought that Dan would for sure notice that, and with that parting thought, I finally had a moment of reason.
Call the library. Beg for forgiveness. I did, and a very nice lady told me that if I returned all the books, they would forgive me and reduce the fine to 10 dollars. (Which, yeah, is a pair of Old Navy flats on sale, but at least it is not my wedding ring or my first born spawn.)
I returned the books immediately (Evil! Poisonous books!) And the very nice man told me that my fine was nothing. Grad students usually ring up a mutli-grand fine just before graduation. And some sadist at the Marriot Library thought the best way was to scare the offenders sh**less and then charge ten dollars. Because it is funny to watch some one's blood pressure go through rapid, drastic, fluctuations.
It is just one of the reasons I love the University of Utah. That, and I never feel compelled to exercise when I'm there.