Pay No Attention to the Man Behind the Curtain

I went to my first Board party last night, from an undisclosed location somewhere in the greater Provo area. I was kind of nervous, it's not everyday that you get to mingle with an ultra-secret society, and I always hate being the NKOTB. I'm not the socialite that makes everyone werf's friend instantly. It was a really good time, though. Everyone was really nice and even talked to me. It was a lot of fun, and I got to know everyone so much better. A. A. and Katya gave me the run-down on triangles and colors (I'm apparently a Green) and it was just neat to actually SEE everyone.

About seeing, let me tell you how weird it is to see people that you only hear and read their writing. You have this mental picture of what they look like, how they talk, and then you see them in person. It's not a BAD thing, just different. It's like when you see radio DJ's in person (but the Board is a lot more better looking, I'd say). It was a good time, though, and I got to eat way too many Peanut Butter M&M's, which is always a plus. Thanks to all y'all for being so nice. You Rock.

Justice and Mercy

Ok, so I am mad. Extremely torqued. Who knew that tennis class could be so exasperating? This post definatly goes down in the "Rant" column. I warn the faint of heart and the faint of butt to turn back now.

So this is now my 5th tennis class. Everyday, Monday through Thursday, from 6-7. The first 4 classes went just fine, no problems, learning a lot, having a good time, etc. Today, however, I came home with cold and sore feet. Why, you might ask? Xanadu, were you stupid enough to not wear shoes? No, you were stupid to not realize that the evil reaches of BYUSSR extend beyond the Board, beyond the Honor Code Office, and beyond longboarding on campus. It even reaches to the tennis courts and one very extremely anal physical facilities goon who will hereafter be known as "Adolf".

So after playing for 4 classes in my New Balance "running" shoes (remember that, it will be important later), we are warming up, getting ready for a new class. Along ambles up Adolf, who's physical appearance denotes that he's probably never actually used a tennis court, except for Mario Tennis on his Nintendo 64. Alone. On a Friday night. (Ok, that is a low blow, but I'm mad. I'm sorry). He comes up to me and asks to see the soles of my shoes. I show him, and he asks me what they are designed for. "Uh, sports and stuff?" Sorry, mein Fuhrer, I don't work at Foot Locker. He then informs me that they are "running" shoes, and therefore not acceptable for the courts. Ok, great. He says something about damage to the court, harder rubber, blah blah blah. So at this point, I am slightly annoyed, but if that's the rule, then I guess that's the rule. I'll go to DI and figure something out for tomorrow.

"So, you're going to have to play in your socks or feet until you can get some shoes."

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? My mind is screaming at the injustice and the sheer stupidity/anality (I don't know if that's a word or not) of this suggestion.

"Um, I have a class right now. Couldn't I just wear my shoes for one more day? I'll get them changed out tomorrow."

"No, because it's like one more day of damage on the courts."

OK, you are offically a moron. 1) I've been on these freaking courts for 4 days. Great, one more day. 2) Are you so naive as to believe that every other person on this court at any other time of the day is wearing "tennis" or "basketball" shoes? I almost want to go back at midnight and just run around, "damaging" the courts beyond repair. I hope worrying about his precious courts keeps him up awake at night. 3) We don't even play for an hour, and much of that time is spent in simple drills and listening to instructions. It would have been a sacrifice of probably 40 minutes of "damage," and he would have kept me as, if not a friend, at least a neutral party. But it's on now, Adolf.

"Don't worry, you won't be alone. There's a few of your classmates in the same situation." Oh WOW. What a relief. I'm glad to know you're an equal opportunity control-freak.

So I played in my bare feet for those 40 minutes. That was fun. I wasn't incredibly sore, but it was cold, and tennis courts aren't exactly polished hardwood. That, combined with my rage, made the entire lesson practically worthless. To add to the situation, our coach didn't even directly acknowledge the situation. Want to hear something even better? Last week, I overheard when Adolf came up to him and asked him if he had discussed with us the proper footwear to have. Our coach said "yeah, sure" and that was it. So after a week of personal attention, I figured that my shoes were OK. Nope. And the only thing he says today is "try to bring court shoes, blah blah blah." Well, I'd better not just TRY, genius, because obviously that isn't good enough. But thanks for the tip. I had to ask him what court shoes were before he would tell us what was acceptable. Thanks a lot, coach. Hope you like your teacher evaluation.

So why am I mad in all of this? Power. Adolf gets just a tinny little smidgon of power and goes to town with it. Was it "right" for me to wear my shoes today? No. Would it have caused someone irreprable pain and personal harm to do so? No. Would it have damaged the courts beyond repair? No. Why do people have to be so anal about some things? If is 12:01 and there's some madman out lurking around our apartment building, am I going to send girls home because it's after curfew? If I'm dying of thirst and a Coke is all that is available, and I just going to leave it and die? I think Christ had a name for people like Adolf. They were Pharisees. Hypocrites. Justice will be served if he's running his wife to have a baby, and while speeding picks up a ticket. I know if I was that cop, I'd let him have it.

"Do unto others as you would have done unto you."

Remember that one, Adolf? Glad that you are SOOOOO powerful in your BYU jacket and with your little two-way radio. Look at you. You've saved that 40 minutes of excessive wear and tear on your precious tennis courts, but you've lost me a bit more faith in humanity. I hope that helps you to sleep at night.

A Rush of Euphoria, Followed by a Sense of Dread

This has been an amazing week. Funny how things can change so fast and in so many good ways. At the same time, awesome changes can lead to awesome responsibility, and even downright scariness.

Example 1: I am sitting on my bed between classes on Wednesday and I am just falling asleep to a nice nap when my computer does that "Ding-You've-Got-Email" thing. And I see that it's the Main Writer for the 100 Hour Board informing me that my application has been accepted and now I have been chosen as a writer. Whoa. It seems like I sent in my application ages ago, but there it was. My nap shattered, I jumped back onto the Board (ironically, I had finished reading the posts for the day right before my nap) and started perusing the new things. As I did this and read the Writer Guide, my principle joy and giddiness shifted to pressure and worry. This is it, I'm going to start DOING something now. How in the world can I write well enough? How can I keep writing at that elusive level of 'good'? Will the other writers like me? Hate me? Be mildly amused and put up with me? (Update: I was so happy with the warm welcome I received, and that helped to quell my worries, thanks a lot!) It wasn't too bad of a sense of dread, I guess just more pressure and expectation that I expected.

Example 2: I had an interview for a TA job that I have really wanted on Thursday. I had been really worried and hoping that I would do well. I did well enough in my interview, and apparently good enough that she hired me on the spot. Again, a quick hit of excitement followed by the realization that now I would have a CLASS. Students (unruly freshmen at that) would be MY responsibility. When my interviewer mentioned grading, it freaked me out. I would be holding the grades of these kids in my hands. Scary.

So why am I writing all this? I've just come to realize yet again that the biggest and most adventurous events in our lives are not always easy. The only ways in which we grow are by trial and experience. I'm just glad that I haven't backed down and that I'm trying these new experiences. Isn't it funny that the most exciting parts of life are the most scariest? It makes things a lot more interesting.