Visiting Teaching Gone Wrong

This happened last semester, but it still lingers in my mind as one of the most horrendous and hilarious visiting teaching experiences of my life. The girl that I used to visit teach was preparing to leave for a month trip to Africa. She was also preparing for a job interview the morning of her departure and was pressed for time. I offered to help in any way that I could and this is how I got myself into this disaster. She asked me if I would be able to finish ironing her white shirt for her job interview the following morning. I'm no fool, I've read about the blessings that come from service and more especially from visiting teaching so I was all like, yeah for sure I will do that for you!

I took the shirt down to my apartment and pulled out a rather scary looking iron from the back closet. I plugged it in, waited for it to heat up, and then proceeded to iron her cotton-polyester and whatever other synthetic material shirt. I was only at it for less than thirty seconds when I looked down and realized that the shirt was smoking and there were large striations where the iron had just passed over.


In a matter of seconds I had managed to anihalate her only white button up shirt just in time for her impossible morning deadline! I didn't know what to do! Maybe she wouldn't notice!? She was having a going away party at that very moment so I couldn't go up to her apartment to show her what I had just done. After ten minutes of panic and despair filled with intermittent fits of giggles at the total shock of what had just happened, I decided that she could wear whatever she wanted out of my closet for her interview and that I would rush to the store first thing in the morning to replace the mutilated one.

In the end, she borrowed a shirt and I was able to find a nice suitable replacement at the local Shopko.


I learned my lesson. I am never giving service again.

It Takes a Trained Eye

The other evening I was telling my family members that they should go check out Dan Steinhilber's installation art display at the BYU MOA. He has taken a lot of every day objects and turned them into art. Jayson, whom I assumed knew nothing about art made some snarky comment about making art out of garbage... I tried to ignore it because his ignorance offends me, so I can't even recall the exact quote. Despite is poo pooing, I think that the exhibit is definitely worth the trip.


On the following day, I received an astonishing photo from Jayson. Just when I thought that he didn't get it, that he wouldn't recognize good art if it slapped him silly, he sent me this brilliant example of contemporary installation art in the workplace.


"I thought you would like this art installation we have at work. It must have taken forever to arrange the water bottles that way."

You can really feel the artists intent when you look at this piece. The juxtaposition of the water bottles and the filing cabinets really makes me think about our relationship to work and our own physical needs. Good eye Jayson! Thanks for sharing!

Not to be Crude or Nothing... Butt...

A few thoughts to preface this post. Number one: My blog title is as you might have noticed "Awkward." Number Two: Everybody Poops, this is just a fact. Number Three: I'm sure I'm not the only person who lives in fear of pooping in public restrooms. If after reading these prefaces you feel that you do not want to continue reading, I will understand.

While at work the other day I had to go to the restroom. I was working with Cuz Carrie so most of the time I feel pretty comfortable taking that kind of time away from the office for a potty break. So off I went, and as I did so, I experienced some of the typical anxieties that I have come to feel time and time again. These include but are not limited to the following fears or discomforts.

#1 Fear of people hanging around outside the bathroom. (They could be timing you!)
#2 Fear of people hanging around outside the bathroom that you know! (Even worse if they are timing you!)
#3 Fear that these same people will still be hanging around outside the bathroom when you exit.
#4 Fear of someone being in the stall next to you. (They might hear you and even more dreaded and feared, they might smell something...)
#5 Fear of people waiting in line while you are in the stall. (They might know what you're doing in the the stall! This also adds a lot of pressure to the whole experience.)
#6 Fear of someone coming in and using your stall after you. (The seat might be warm, they could be smart and make the connection that you were the last person to be using that particular stall and this could lead to a lot of embarassment.)
#7 Fear of someone you know coming in and using your stall after you. (It's worse, it just is.)
#8 Fear of taking too long. (People that you left behind in the office, classroom, or dinner table to go to the restroom will start to notice your absence.)
#9 Fear of someone coming in and using the stall next to you and leaving before you are finished. (Its kind of like a race in there!)
#10 Fear of walking out of the stall when someone is waiting and has been waiting the whole time to use your stall, so in a sense they've known all along what's been going on. (This is by far the worst one!)
#11 Fear of running into someone you know in the bathroom and having to have a conversation with them. (It's true that women go to the bathroom in groups, but this is different because it's mostly to touch up hair and makeup or if you have to pee... but who really wants to have a conversation in a bathroom?!)

I do believe I have always had these fears from an early age. It just so happened that at work the other day, I went to the bathroom and encountered a lot of these fears. Sitting outside the bathroom was an older couple from the old 13th ward. I am usually stopped by her because she wants to ask about the family. I normally wouldn't mind talking to her but I hate that it is right when I am about to go to the bathroom, this makes them, and all of the other missionaries, teachers or whoever else might be there, aware of me and thus start the mental clock in their heads. I imagine that ten minutes later they notice that I am FINALLY returning to work... anyway, I had to stop and talk. I then proceded to do my business and while I was doing so, someone came in and out beating me in the great bathroom race. To top it off, Marissa, one of my work collegues who now teaches at the MTC, wandered into the bathroom just as I was finishing up. We had a few words, and then she entered my old stall. I felt mortified and wondered what kind of person she might think I am. I then had to walk back out and face the older couple again, feeling a sense of shame, they've known what I've just done in there. Then I had to go back and face Carrie and tell her that I ran into Marissa. She then laughed and responded, yeah she was here for a while and then left all while you were gone. (Clearly a reference to the time that I had been gone.)

Point is, I don't like public restrooms. They make me uncomfortable and anxiety ridden. I would rather not have people know when I am going or what I'm doing in there. I dream of a world where we will all have private bathrooms all over the world and I won't have to worry about running into people. Those will be the "Golden Days", the time of enlightenment, and a time where doctors will administer very few if any enemas.