Thursday, March 3, 2011

A story from my childhood, but not really.

Technically this actually happened a few months before I came to BYU. But I don't have anything else to write about.

It all started when the air conditioning in my car broke. It's not my car, really. Which is fine by me. As sexy as a severely dented minivan is, it's not exactly a vehicle for which I have any particular desire to claim ownership. However, it is the car that I drove because it is the only automatic my family owns and also the one to which I could cause the least damage. After several weeks of enduring the disgusting heat of a Virginia summer,  my parents finally took the car in to have its air conditioning fixed.

The following morning, I left to go teach piano, as was my usual Saturday morning routine. I both drove to and parked at my student's house in a calm manner. Upon arriving, I checked my texts in a calm manner, and replied to them in a calm manner. Then, in a calm manner, I looked up out the windshield and proceeded to panic. Clouds of white something were billowing out of vent above the hood. I jumped out and opened the hood, but could see nothing wrong (as if I had any idea what I was even looking for). Uncertain of what exactly to do but knowing that I still had to teach a piano lesson, I proceeded to pretend nothing was wrong and taught my student in a state of denial. When I went back outside, the billowing white something had ceased its billowing and I thought that perhaps my denial had worked. Seeing that nothing else seemed to be wrong with the car, I started to drive home. I was at the entrance to my neighborhood when the dashboard started yelling at me. "Hey you! Stop driving! Your car is overheating!" it beeped. "What?" I replied, "No it isn't. I haven't really even driven anywhere. You're wrong." And then I looked at the engine temperature thing and sure enough, the arrow was pointing directly at H. Sensing that this was not the time to argue with my dashboard, I pulled over and called my mom.

Several minutes later, she, my dad, and three of my younger siblings pulled up in our other car. My dad got out and started looking for what was wrong, and my mom asked me if I wouldn't mind going to the church with my three siblings while they had a Primary Activity and waiting there so I could get them ready for a baptism directly afterward. Now, what you must understand here is that earlier that morning before leaving to teach piano I had basically just rolled out of bed, thrown on clothes, and left. I was wearing glasses, no makeup, and my unstraightened hair was pulled back into a frizzy ponytail. I was in no state to be seen in public, much less at a baptism. So when we arrived at the church and my brothers and sister left for their activity, I went into the bathroom and began, once again, to panic.

I glanced in the mirror, and part of me died. Desperately, I searched for something in my purse that might make me resemble a human. I came up with a hairbrush, a brown lipstick, a purple lipstick, and a clear lipgloss. Halfheartedly I put on the brown lipstick and attempted to use the brush to tame my unruly ponytail. No such luck. Water was added, but it quickly dried, leaving me with even frizzier hair than before. Drastic actions were required. In a half-crazed stupor, I looked once again at the clear lipgloss. Now, this lipgloss was a simple lipgloss, but it had served me well, benignly carrying out the task for which it had been created. Most people would be content with this function, but not I. I wanted to stretch the lipgloss to its full potential! I wanted to challenge social conventions and make a statement by using it in an unconventional way! I wanted to push the boundaries of lipgloss in a way they had never before been pushed!

...I put the lipgloss in my hair. Ideally, this would have tamed all frizz, much like a gel. It instead created the highly realistic illusion that I had for some reason decided to put something incredibly sticky in my hair. Was it lipgloss? Was it honey? Just by looking, it was difficult to tell. Now, an ordinary person would have recognized insanity for what it was and stopped while they still could, but not I. I had no eye makeup with me. But if I could put lipgloss in my hair, why not put lipstick on my eyes? "Don't do it!" shrieked the piteous and dying remains of my common sense, which I promptly punched in the face as I pulled out Maybelline Colorsensational Lipstick in Madison Mauve. "Madison Mauve" is a very unassuming name. One might think it was not too flashy, sort of a muted plum. One would be wrong. It is BRIGHT PURPLE. And this I put on my eyelids. Bright purple, twitching, crazy-person eyes. Lovely. Even in my current state I had enough fragments of sanity to recognize that this was not attractive. So rationally (of course), rather than wash it off, I added BROWN lipstick.

And that is how I wound up sitting in the church looking completely ridiculous, clinging to a last desperate hope that my mother would soon arrive so I could escape unseen.



    I'm really not laughing at you. I'm laughing 'cause you funny. And also, I'm laughing a little bit at past-you. Childhood-you.

    Seriously. This made me laugh so hard.