Tuesday, June 2, 2009

It's official. I'm old.

I suppose I should have expected this. After all, I do live in the town that is the home of Bear River University. But it honestly never even occurred to me. Especially since, of all the people I know, very few of them actually live in or near the town they grew up in. Except for people around here. Except for the people I went to high school with.

I went to high school with the first counselor in our ward's bishopric. That has go to be one of the weirdest things I've ever experienced. I recognized him right off the bat . . . sort of. It was more one of those "is that . . . no . . . but maybe . . . surely not . . . well . . . " sort of things that was confirmed when I heard someone else call him by name. That was weird, but I rather expected it, because, like I said, a good 75% of any and every graduating class or good ol' Berver (how it's pronounced with a Utah accent) goes to Logan, and I imagine few of them ever leave. Unless they go back to Box Elder County. It's one of those instances where everybody knows everybody, at least sort of. Yesterday our ward held a little "linger longer" (something I've only seen in one other ward) and someone else recognized me as Ashli's older sister. I didn't recognize her at all, although I have the distinct feeling that I should have, and her name is a little familiar. But still - no idea who she is or how she recognized me. It's like a high school reunion that never ends and you don't have to wait ten years for. I suppose you could say the same thing about facebook . . . but on facebook people who know Ashli leave me alone unless they actually know me too. And everyone is more or less an equal, still in high school for all intents and purposes, not first counselors in your bishopric.

Which takes me back to my original point. That is so weird. Bishopric dudes are supposed to be . . . old. Wise. Grandfatherly. At least out of college for heaven's sake!!! (did I mention we go to a student ward?) Granted, I'm aware of the fact that in singles' wards and married student wards they'll often call some young dude for . . . training purposes, for lack of a better phrase. I've seen it before, I mean, I was only in FIVE different singles' wards in the last seven years. I know how it works. I've seen young guys up on the stand before. But they were never guys I'd known before knowing them "on the stand" so to speak. They were never someone I'd seen goofing off at lunchtime, debating whether or not to skip seminary (or math, or english, or insert other class here). I could always imagine that they were actually in they're mid-to-late-thirties or older, and just happened to have a bit of a baby face. Not happening this time. I know exactly how old he is . . . more or less . . . because he's my age. He walked across the same platform stage I did in that stuffy high school gym, seven letters behind me alphabetically. If I wanted to, I could grab my yearbook and count exactly how many people were between the two of in shaking . . . what's-his-butt's hand. (Yeah, I don't remember the principal's name. I never saw him much. He was a bit more of a voice-from-the-intercom than a "pal" principal.)

It's so crazy. All these things that I always imagined I would never be old enough for . . . not only am I doing them, people younger than me are doing them too!! (looking at you Shayla! And Brad! Katie! Jesse! And . . . yeah . . . just . . . all'a y'all) So does the fact that I'm reaching a point where my peers and I are doing all these things that I always thought required a level of . . . maturity, I guess . . . mean that I actually am that mature? And does that mean that this is what maturity feels like? And if that's the case, that really sucks. It feels way too much like immaturity if you ask me.

P.ost S.cript
I've decided to start including stuff I find online in all my blogs. Being broke, Luke and I have found a cheap, yet hysterically awesome source of constant entertainment - youtube videos!! We'll go to one we like and just click on links to related videos for hours. Most are amusing, some are really lame, and some are true gems. Here's one of my current favorites:


  1. yes, but has the bagger at the grocery store called you Mam? if not, then you are just in a college town. Mam- now that hurts.

  2. Oooooh. That didn't happen to us until we lived in San Diego. Sorry. It does suck.

    And what the *H* was that Llama song?

  3. I got called ma'am all the time in Florida . . . not as often as "miss" or "hey you" or "excuse me" and such, but enough that I kind of got used to it. That one actually didn't bother me as much as I would have imagined.

    And the llama song would, I believe, fall under the category of stupid internet videos. A cheap source of endless amusement. :-) At least, Jason, Shayla, Luke and I watched it several times when they were here a couple of weeks ago. And if you think that's bad, you should go to badgerbadgerbadger.com. The llama song will suddenly be Ivy League! :-D

  4. ma'am in conjunction with your job is different than ma'am at the grocery store. Believe me.