Other mistakes she makes frequently: sense instead of since and tell instead of till or until.
Do you think I could get fired for making a running list of her errors? I hope not, since I've already dedicated a post-it pad inside my desk to just such a list.
One night in Florida, Hermana Nipper, my mission companion, woke me up screaming, "There's a frog on my face!" It was pitch black in our room, and my first thought was to wonder how she decided it was a frog without being able to see it. It was 3 a.m.. I gathered all the sympathy I could, turned on the light, and looked around. No frog. I gave her a groggy hug, patting her back and telling her it would be okay and to go back to sleep. That's when a little dark smudge near the ceiling moved. I squinted. It was a frog. I still have no idea how she knew what it was. My first thoughts would have been spider or lizard. Sis. Nipper grabbed a giant cup from the kitchen and we caught the miscreant responsible for waking me up. The cup was one of those big clear Coke cups with a switch that turned on colorful flashing lights, and I remember giving that poor frog a disco party in the cup before we took it outside. The next weird thing that night was just as we were taking it to the front door, I saw a lizard hanging on the blinds of the front window. Seriously? Two amphibians determined to keep us up all night? He took a little longer to catch, but we eventually got them both out the door and went back to bed. What a night.
I know people may be tired of me saying, “Hey, I have a motorcycle,” but it was a big step in my life. Pretty much my whole life I have always wanted to do things; then, I research those things; then, I make plans to do those things; then, I tell everyone that I am going to do those things; then, I never do.
I was going to learn to play the piano. I was going to learn Tagalog. I was going to go skydiving. I was going to run a marathon. I was going to live in France. I was going to lose forty-five pounds.
I have always wanted a motorcycle.
On the first nice, semi-warm day of March, I walked past Porter Park to my French 101 class. I thought to myself that this weather would be perfect for riding a motorcycle. I decided right then that I was going to buy one. By the time that I walked past the stadium, I realized that I probably wouldn’t buy one because it is the constant theme of my life to think about doing something, and then not do it. When I walked out of the doors of the Snow and saw the Spori, I decided that I would buy one, but I wouldn’t tell anybody.Two weeks later I arranged the funds, called Don in Ogden, UT, and then arranged to pick-up the 1985 Honda Shadow. I only told two people that I was buying it. I borrowed Suzie’s Saturn Vue and rented a u-haul trailer to go pick it up.
It didn’t really occur to me that it was actually happening until I went to the Madison County DMV to take the driving test and motorcycle test. I forfeited my Maryland license to get my motorcycle learner’s permit.
When my co-worker, Dallin, was teaching me to ride, I fell off only once. I kept practicing, which is something that I rarely do. For the first two weeks of owing it, I laid in bed at night wishing I hadn’t purchased it. It wasn’t buyer’s remorse; I don’t think. I was afraid of following through with learning to ride it well enough to not look like a fool. I even made plans to sell it, but I didn’t tell anyone.
I still have it though, and I love it.
It's me, Meghan. I hate having to try and piece together details from a post to figure out who wrote it. I've thought about the WC last night while reading a talk by Elder Bednar in this month's Ensign. It's called "Things as They Really Are." It's a warning about getting so involved in facebook, texting, computer games, and blogging (Is that why you all stopped writing on here?) that you miss out on reality. He says, "Please be careful of becoming so immersed and engrossed...you fail to recognize the importance of your physical body and miss the richness of person-to-person communication." I thought of the Writing Center. He would like what he saw there.
The first parties each semester are some of my favorite memories because of the incredible spirit of friendship and trust I felt there. I remember crying with Shannon at her first "party" and how satisfying it was to get home that night and feel so connected. I'd never shared that feeling with anyone before after leaving Sis. Morgan's house. There is some wall between me and nearly every other person I know that limits us...masks we wear. Somehow, Sister Morgan made it okay to take them off for awhile. I envy those of you who married someone who worked at the Center. I often wish Jason could feel what I've felt there. It's hard for me to explain it to him, so I'm glad you've all felt it too and understand me. I think that's what it is. We understand each other. We went beyond chitchat and really talked to each other on those nights at Sister Morgan's house and during so many seminars. Man, I want more of that.