Wednesday, April 20, 2011

blue headband morning

you know when you find yourself in that strange, in between dream and reality state when you are waking up in the morning and you feel a little too well-rested, a little too warm and you realize with momentary dream-like confusion that it's not your alarm yanking you from the land of Nod but some sort of instinct (for example, the instinct that you are supposed to take a 7am final) that is kicking in a little too late?

as these various elements combine at this precise moment they trigger a common catalyst: panic.

as a little precursory statement to this, my story, be assured that everything worked out and I was still on-time and that the essay was, hopefully, brilliant. however, the moments that transpired from the moment when the clock (silently blaring 6:26) branded its numeric configurations into my cerebral to the moment that I walked into my American lit. final were, now in hindsight, comical and commonly (although, I hope, not too commonly) shared across many a population of university students. Furthermore, they merit the declaration of:
"of course this would happen to me."

oh, and bear with the fact that I ignore writing conventions and write this in both the first person singular ("we") and the second person singular ("you"). I am not schizophrenic.

**************

covers fly to the feet of a bed that is always properly made. this morning such gestures to fold and tuck and smooth and plump are forgotten in jagged, requisite cries of "oh no, oh no, ohhhhhh!" they are muted like a jazz trumpet as not to wake the other co-habitants, though they still profess an unbridled staccato power behind the filter of politeness . now is decision time. it's time to adopt a minimalist mindset: what morning routines have the privilege of remaining and which are jettisoned. okay, we have to get dressed. yes, we did wear those jeans on monday and tuesday, but they're looking pretty good right now. yes, you're right, self, it's important to have BYU pride, thus on goes that old, faded blue cougar sweatshirt - surely wearing it will give us added positive karma during our test (reasoning at moments like this is using faulty and logically fallible). okay, to the bathroom. oh, blast these blinding and merciless overhead lights. hmm. hair goes up. blue headband? yes - cover up these locks' lack of shower as much as possible. moisturizer? yes. make-up? put it in your bag for later. socks? no time. shoes? converses. this day is going to reflect the morning's choices as much as possible. grab the backpack. oh, well since you didn't shower how about a little perfume? yes. great. wait, it's still dark in this room and I can't see if the sprayer is facing our wrist or...OUCH! nope, no wrist; it was facing our face. direct hit to the right eye, commander. let's go wash that out. pink eye much, Laurel? nice. no time to think about that. we'll just close it on the walk/speed walk to school and let the natural tear ducts clean tommy girl out from the irritated pupil. no time to eat (plus we ate enough last night at that indian place to cover whatever caloric intake we might need for today's activities). wait, don't forget to pray!! we need Him more than ever this morning. okay,
we're good now (at least with Heavenly Father). let's go.

what a fine, Spring morning. if only we could enjoy this walk to school, but alas we went to bed only having memorized half of those American Modernist poets and still have the Post-Modernism and Multiculturalisms ones to go. Good morning, Toni Morrison.

hello group of roommates passing us by on the sidewalk on their walk to the temple. we don't know any of you, but by a quick assessment of your bags, choice of clothing, time of day and direction of walk we deduce the goal of your trajectory; there really is only one place you could be headed. wow, do people actually look that nice at this time in the morning?

okay, on campus now and feeling throughly warmed from the descent. voila, here we are in the strangest edifice to ever contain a literature class: the MARB science building. wooh, we made it to class with time to spare. we've got our blue book and a blue pen and a blue headband. blue seems to be a theme. okay, just disregard the strange looks that the other early people are tossing in your general direction; they are just trying to recognize this girl in the ragged BYU paraphernalia, wondering perhaps, with Christian concern in their blatant stares, why you are crying but only from the right eye.

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