Showing posts with label FHE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FHE. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

I Knew Going to FHE was a Bad Idea.

This is a story about when I realized that the Beard was IT. I thought it apropos since it's Valentine's week and all. **Incidentally it is also the story of one of the worst dates I've ever been on.**

Background

The Beard and I met in August 2009. We started hanging out in October and kissed in December. It was still really casual and cautious, and in March we both decided independently to be gone for the summer - Ryan in Arizona and me in England. We hung out more and more in April, realizing we really liked each other in the face of departure.

A week after we first met - the night he got my digits. Epic. 

The night before he left for Arizona, at the end of April, we had a really good talk about our expectations for the summer. We weren't even bf/gf at that point, so doing the long distance thing was clearly out of the question. The Beard was a bit of a commitment-phobe at the time and I had reservations about that. I also knew that he was going down there with his single dude posse, and that there would undoubtedly be  just scores of hot Arizona girls to occupy their limited down time.

As for me, this was the first summer that I didn't take classes and two months before I left. I was incredibly excited about have a "real" summer and though I really liked Ryan, I wasn't going to waste my summer stressing about a boy that wasn't here.

So we decided to have an awesome summer, stay in touch if we wanted to, and see what September brought back, with equal parts hope and pessimism.

FHE/DATE MARKET


Ryan left on a Sunday. Monday I got up, went to work, and had a very regular day. No tears, no sadness. I was pretty sure Ryan was going to forget about me and I can't STAND feeling clingy. I just decided to get over it, expect nothing, have fun and not even think about him. There were new adventures ahead.

When I got home, my cute roommate Natalie was getting ready for FHE and invited me to come. I LOLed a little.


Fun Fact About Danica: HATES Singles Wards. Hates FHE. I was semi inactive while in college, because I hated going to church so bad. I went to every farewell in Springville/Mapleton, went to my home ward often, and left early from my singles ward all the time.

Still. I was committed to meeting new people and having a blast this summer, so I went. Big mistake. I don't remember what we did, but we sat down in the big circle of chairs and instantly some boys came over to talk to us. I looked up and was instantly drawn to one of the guys, who saw me looking and walked toward me, smiling.

"Wow." I thought. "They really were right about singles wards. I am having a Taylor Swift moment with a guy I've never met. All because of FHE."


He sits down next to me, we exchange names and small talk, and then the Bishop gets up to start the lesson/activity/whatever we were doing. We quiet down. I was trying to be as charming as possible, obviously.

My mind is going a mile a minute. "What was that connection? Did he feel it? Don't get ahead of yourself, Crazy, he could have a girlfriend. Could I even date someone in my ward? That's an awkward story to tell our kids we met in a singles ward." Don't act like you haven't done this embarrassing thought train route before.

But then I started to notice all my judgy little things. "That's weird... why would I be attracted to a guy in construction-style dirty boots? Wait a minute. Those are Bugle Boy jeans. His hat is camouflage. What. What. What."

Let me be clear. I have no issue with many of those observations. It's just not my type. I was starting to question my mental health. Then he started talking again.

"Do you like Mexican food? I need a date for this week and I'd sure like to get some Cafe Rio!"

How did I not notice his hick accent before? And did he really just ask me out within 5 minutes of knowing me? I even thought I was attracted to this guy. I'm going crazy. I must be.

I accepted, because I will always accept a first date. Always. Any single girl who doesn't is a B*TCH. Who do you think you are, turning down a guy who worked up the courage to compliment you with a date?

As we left FHE, I'm in this weird shock. What just happened? I thought I had a legitimate connection with this guy. Am I crazy? He's 0% my type. The more I talked to him, the less I liked him.

Plus he was clearly fresh off his mission - he brought it up like 100 times and asked what my favorite scripture was. All the more apparent during our date... dun-dun-dunnnnnnnnnnnn...

THE DATE

The next morning he sent me a very next follow-up text. With one too many winky-faces. How many you ask? One. I'm mean. I know he was just trying to be nice. But a winky face is always creepy.

Two days later, he would pick me up 20 minutes early for our date (WORSE THAN BEING LATE) and proceed to offer a prayer over our Cafe Rio meal in the middle of the restaurant. Yes.  As always at Cafe Rio, there were no less than 10 people I knew there, watching. No that I'm ashamed of praying. I pray. Oh, do I pray. But am I wrong in thinking that maybe in the middle of Cafe Rio on a first date might not be the appropriate time/place for a verbal prayer? Regardless, I bowed my head and prayed with him.

The REALIZATION

After dinner, I politely declined his offer to watch a movie at his place. It seemed weird at 6 pm on a Wednesday night. Also he probably only watched the Living Scriptures, and man, sometimes Laman and Lemuel are just too much for me, you know?

I walked back into my apartment is disbelief. What a dismal date from such optimistic beginnings. 

So what was going on? What did it mean?!!!!

At that precise moment of confusion, my other roommate, Becca, walks up. I told her I just went on a date with that kid from FHE.

"WHAT? That guy talking your ear off all night? He totally reminded me of Ryan! He looks so much like him!"



........


Well.



There it is.

He had Ryan's same color and shape of eyes.  Brown hair. Big football guy build.

Bingo.

So I'm not gonna say that was the moment I gave up dating, because I went out with a handful of guys in those two months before England. But it was.

Cafe Rio prayer guy reminded me that there was no one quite like Ryan, and that I wanted to see where that went. I'm really glad the Beard felt the same way and spent his summer texting me between houses.

Because it went here.







Friday, November 4, 2011

Think Outside the Box

I've never been a fan of weird singles ward things - ward prayer, dessert parties, FHE at the bishopric's house, speed dating, etc. So naturally I avoided the Munch & Mingle. I liked to lay low in a singles ward. Sure, I went. I did my Visiting Teaching (usually). I accepted and magnified callings. But I would often go to other wards, leave after sacrament and avoided activities at all costs.

When The Beard and I were dating pretty seriously in the spring, I came around more (having a boyfriend is a perfect excuse for hanging with your roommates and being antisocial). I still didn't go to activities, but when my roommate Tiffany got called to run the Munch & Mingle every week, I stuck around to support her. Bad idea.

One Sunday as I was about to grab my vegetable plate and sneak home, the fellowshipping committee guy (don't you love these made-up callings?) cornered me.

"Danica, right? Hi I'm fellowshipping guy. We have this little 'Get to know you' form that the Bishop wants everyone in the ward to fill out. I don't think we've gotten one for you yet."

Nope. You haven't. Been in the ward 6 months and almost made it out scot-free. "Oh? Hmmm. Ok..... So..... do you want me to...... fill it out? .... Now?"

"YES!" - pure exuberance as he hands me the form. I sigh and sit down. I hate stuff like this, normally. But you have to understand. At this point, The Beard and I were getting engaged in the future (I wish it had been the NEAR) and we were already planning on going to his ward's incredibly awkward Marriage Prep class (a story for another blog post). So this little survey is even more pointless. Hence, my answers

Name: Danica Anne
Age: no comment
Hometown: Diagon Alley
Current House: The Dream Palace
Major: Molding of Minds
Calling: Monday night babysitting (I was FHE mom. Also, if the Bishop doesn't already know this, I don't want to tell him!)
Favorite Color: Black. It is the most Dominant.
Favorite Food: Water.
Favorite Movie: Phantom of the Opera. (Ok, that one was real. I couldn't betray them.)
Favorite Season: Salt.
Favorite Sport: Jousting
Favorite Hobby: Sleep

I know. I'm a smart a**. But then to my surprise I see a classic "Check the Box" question at the end.

"Are you dating someone? Yes/No."

Uh.... What? Why would the Bishop need to know that? You're more likely to land in the Penalty Box? Maybe to know if we need a section of Marriage & Family Relations? I don't know. I thought that was weird and personal. BUT if it meant I didn't have to go to the stupid speed dating crap, fine by me. I checked "YES."

I handed it back and snuck out as quickly as possible, grinning to myself. Tiffany came home excited and confused. "I saw that your form was in the date box....?"

"The Date Box? What is that? No, I filled out a form for the Bishop."

"That's the Date Box."

"What in the h*ll is the Date Box?"

She preceded to explain that the Date Box is where everyone in the ward is mixed together like some depressing single-life gumbo, and people are matched together for a date. It's ridiculous. It's the lowest form of singles ward functions. I felt relieved that I had checked the box "YES." That saved me. Surely they'd take my form out. And even if they didn't, my ludicrous answers made me seem psychotic, so no one would call me anyways. Right?

Wrong.

Thursday night of that week, The Beard and I were out at my parent's house for Office Night. My phone starts ringing from an unrecognized number. I had been getting calls from schools about interviews over that entire week, so I'd just been answering everything instead of screening calls. Obviously this wasn't a Junior High calling at 8 pm on a Thursday. But I answered.

"Hi, is this Danica?"

"Uh, yeah this is she."

"Hi. This is random dude from the ward.... I pulled you out of the Date Box and I was wondering.... are you available Saturday night?"

My eyes widen and The Beard can hear everything on the other line. He starts laughing and I am taken aback.

"Oh!.... um... well...."

"You're seeing someone."

"Well, yes," I laugh, "I'm sorry! I checked the box on the form..." I trail off, mumbling and awkward.

"Oh. Ok. That's too bad. Well. Maybe some other time. Have a good night!"

Maybe some other time?! Ryan is laughing and I'm equal parts embarrassed and amused. Did he not see the checked box? Did he think it wasn't for real? Did he check my Facebook and see that I wasn't "in a relationship?" There's no way he was turned on by my love for "jousting," was he? How did this happen?

Classic. This is Provo. And I couldn't be happier to be married.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Marriage, or the Death of Dessert Parties

Marriage is awesome. Everyone knows that. But sometimes it's painfully obvious HOW awesome it is when you're thrown back into the single world.

Several weeks ago, I had to run up to campus for a meeting with my BYU Education Program peeps. Being on campus kind of made me sick. Not only was I overwhelmed with the general happy anxiety and well-intentioned stress, but the awful singleness. Also, loads of chaste sexual frustration with the opposite sex. When you're single, you don't realize how much stress your life inherently includes. You have to:

1. Look cute so you can attract someone.
2. Be smart to attract someone/keep your scholarship/appease your parents/avoid misusing your student loans.
3. Be active in the Church to attract someone/appease your parents/be a good Mormon.
4. Make a lot of friends to attract someone/be popular.
5. Learn life skills (i.e. Domestic flourish for girls) to attract someone.
6. Attend every single possible event - dessert parties, ward prayer, FHE, BYUSA activities, sporting events - of course to meet and attract someone.

There's just this intense level of optimistic stress that is absolutely exhausting. Always the anxiety of finding someone to study/eat lunch/walk home with. Always the anxiety of making weekend plans or getting another date. Always the anxiety of trying SOOOOO hard to be the cutest, coolest, most righteous (and sometimes fake-st) version of yourself. And there's that sneaky, invisible element of competition. There is no abundance mentality on a college campus.

Being on campus and walking into the library to say hi to my library peeps brought back emotions, just like hearing a song from a sad time in your life making you cry, or a song from the best night ever making you smile. I remember walking into that library annoyed, too much homework, no sleep, hungry and caffeine-deprived, anxious to get off work and meet up with The Beard. I absorbed by osmosis the stress of everyone rushing to get to class, but trying desperately to look approachable. I observed with disgust the excessive PDA of zoob couples.

After my meeting I met up with my friend Jesslyn- our last chance before she went into the MTC (Anaheim, Spanish). She lives in the Mormon Dating Epicenter, commonly referred to as "South-of-Campus." While driving to her apartment, I saw a group of kids gathering for FHE outside a complex. Girls playfully shoving guys, guys constantly readjusting their wayfarer shades and closing digits with various groups of girls. I especially liked seeing girls all dressed up in their cutest outfits (yeah. We can tell when you spent more than 10 minutes on it).

I truly do not mean to insult or offend. This is just the culture. We have all done it. I've done it. (No, I haven't.)

The Beard and I went to the BYU Football game a few weeks ago. I haven't been since I was a freshman and remembered why. It's all BYU Football zealots and freshmen. The ignorant comments and general stupidity was obnoxious. The Beard even yelled at a guy for being disrespectful towards the other team. His date was embarrassed. No awkward doorstep hug for him tonight. But the best part of the game was our newfound love - Photobombing. Freshmen LOVE taking the "myspace pic" (extending your arm up and out to capture the pic, heads together with a funny/sexy/cute face). We love messing it up. With some pretty impressive investigative work (If I do say so myself), I found THIS little beauty on a girl's non-private Facebook page.


You are welcome.

Though I live in Mapleton and don't attend classes on campus anymore, I never feel to far away thanks to my social media. Here are my favorite "Provo" accounts that help me stay close to my roots:

Mormon Girl Probs - Hilarious twitter account that is disturbingly familiar.

Provo All Star - The male counterpart for Mormon Girl Probs. And the source of all Mormon Girl Probs.

NiceTryZoob - Making fun of the "Peter" zoobs we all know and love.

Seriously, So Blessed - Blog mocking young, married Mormon girls. Horrifyingly accurate. Even if it stopped posting in January.

Seen @ BYU - Fantastic Facebook group for those who appreciate the ridiculous things around BYU.

It's fun to hate on BYU culture and the ridiculous dating world. At times it's hilarious, and at times it's incredibly frustrating. But it's all changed for me now.

The overwhelming take-away is that I'm so grateful I found The Beard. I'm so grateful that I no longer have to go out every night of the week, to every FHE (ok, I never went anyway), on every blind date and "Date Box" encounter (THAT is a great story. Maybe I'll share that one soon. You'll LOL for sure).

I don't have to stress that I'm being what someone's looking for. I don't have to kill myself adjusting my hair, makeup and clothes every day (I still do that sometimes. My choice.). I don't have to figure out who someone wants me to be. I don't have to fake it to make it. Dating is over. I have someone who accepts me for who I am, no matter what. Someone who makes me feel more ME than I've ever been. Someone who is completely happy to sit on a couch with me watching Netflix every night of the week. And that's what love is. Boring comfortable familiarity that you can't get enough of.

See ya later, dating. It's been a treat. But not really.