Serious Bonus Points

Before I tell this story let me just preface it by saying that I am not in any way, shape, or form making fun of any of the people involved in this situation.

Now, let me set the scene: I very optimistically agreed to go to a stake single adult dance. I will admit that mostly it was curiosity to see what it was like. I thought I had convinced another woman in the ward to go with me but she bailed at the last minute. So I get to the church 45 minutes late (horror of horrors to actually show up on time to one of these things) and see 7 cars in the parking lot. 3 of them are minivans. My already low expectations drop dramatically. I figure I've come this far so I walk into the church and hear...nothing. No music, no talking, nothing. At this point I'm pretty sure I must have either the time or the place wrong, but again, I've come this far so I continue on. As I walk toward the gym I finally hear someone talking and I get to the door and hesitate just beyond the point when anyone can see me because this is it, once I take one more step I am committed to whatever this is for at least an hour. I stand there indecisively for at least a minute, during which time I ascertain that someone is teaching people how to do the Electric Slide (It's electric!). For some reason this makes me want to see what's actually happening, so I take that final step. And then I am looking at the most depressing vignette I have seen in quite some time. The gym is amply decorated in some sort of awful autumnal/Valentine's Day combination and there are 7 people in the middle of the gym. It turns out the DJ is the one teaching them the Electric Slide (It's electric!).* The DJ's wife is my visiting teacher (and I love and adore her, she is seriously one of my favorite people in Indiana), which is the only reason I had persevered in showing up once my other friend had bailed on me. Anyway, there are 4 women and 3 men there. The men are both in their 60's and the women range from 30 to 70. By the time all of this registers all I want to do is turn and flee, but of course I have been spotted and beckoned and there is no way for me to pretend that I have just accidentally stumbled into the wrong place and actually have a pressing appointment elsewhere.

So naturally I decide to show them all how the Electric Slide (it's electric!) is done.

Ha, no just kidding, I halfheartedly join in the dance all the while calculating exactly how long politeness dictates that I stay.

So depressing.

At least they didn't try to make me do the Boot Scootin' Boogie.

I deserve serious bonus points for going, for staying, for dancing, and for not crying my eyes out afterwards at what my sorry single life has become.**

These bonus points will come in the form of never again having to attend a singles activity.

*I understand that some people won't get this reference, just trust me, it's a terrifying reminder of my junior high days.

**Note, this does not have reference to my being a poor pitiful single person who is sorry for herself, because that is far from the case. It is the representation of what being single apparently means in the Church in Indiana.

Drunkenness and Blessings (Drunk blessings? Wait, no...)

So yesterday in class the professor who has to be called my favorite professor since he responded to my attempts to cancel class Thanksgiving week* somehow got on the subject of drunkenness. I would tell you about the route we took to get there, but really, amongst drinkers is the subject of drunkenness ever more than one degree away? Anyway, he pointed to me and said, "Marin, you look like a big drinker, you know what it's like." To which I responded, "Uh, ok, sure" (it was said sarcastically and was therefore a refutation of his statement even though it doesn't appear so in print). Then a few minutes later he strongly implied that I was probably hungover. Now, I would be worried about this except that 1) it was clear he was kidding about my drinking habits and 2) I was sick as a dog at the time and was mostly concentrating on not throwing up so I couldn't get all that offended at someone saying I looked hungover because as I understand it being hungover mostly involves being sick as a dog and concentrating on not throwing up.

This story has a point (and a good ending!). I was sick all day yesterday and so wasn't able to get some papers done that were due today. I got up very early this morning but if anything I was even sicker. It was to the point that I couldn't actually sit up for fear that the contents of my stomach would also come up. I knew I had to get these papers done today and that I had to attend class because we would be evaluating the papers so I got down on my knees and told Heavenly Father my situation, that I had these things that had to be done and I couldn't do them in the physical condition I was in. I asked that He heal my body enough for me to accomplish what I needed to accomplish. And then I got up and felt that I should do some specific things to help myself feel better. One of them (this is one of the more awesome parts of the story) was that some Diet Coke would help settle my stomach. About fifteen minutes later I was working as though nothing had been wrong. Don't get me wrong, I still didn't feel well (I'm still a little nauseated), but my prayer was most definitely answered and my body was healed enough to accomplish everything I needed.

Wow, am I grateful for prayer today.

*Actual conversation:
Me: Are we really having class the Monday of Thanksgiving week?
Favorite Professor: Yes.
Me: Are you sure we're really having class that week?
FP: Well...
Me: Pretty please?
FP: Ok, why not. Class is cancelled the week of Thanksgiving.
(thank you, my powers of persuasion ARE awesome and apparently my puppy dog look has now been perfected).