weirdness on facebook...

My BYU Freshman ward tracked me down and I got an email to be "friends" with a girl who was never really my friend there. A weird rush of relief came across me...I can search her site and not discover that she is either drunk or gay (FYI...TONS of HS friends have found me and that is what I keep seeing...very disappointing, not surprising, very sad). I was happy to know that it would be a nice happy family page and interesting to see where she ended up...while trying to remember which one she was. Then I found the BYU 57th Ward '96-'97 members club and saw the old directory, how many people commented on that they still had theirs too (that is a little weird) and all the updates of those who have already joined this club. I did find my first Home Teacher, Nate the great, and quickly sent out to be his friend. He was awesome and sooo sweet. We became fast friends and he dated my BF for a bit (ever hear of the 14 cent date? They invented it...share a popcicle at the creamery and a walk). I also found the pic of my first roomie and a huge amount of memories waiting for me...

I must share this b/c you will not believe it! My first roommate was Kim. They say you cannot change rooms before Christmas, but they made an exception for us after we pent up a lot of anger and fought it out in a fist fight and hair pulling match up and down our dorm hall. Yeah, this is probably something I would not usually put out there, but it is just such a funny picture of an all out cat fight in U-hall of DT. Yes, I can hold my own and no...nothing was broken. We actually pulled off the whole thing with fake smiles trying to make those watching think it wasn't that serious and also to keep it from getting that serious. Why? Let's just say that although BYU was her lifelong dream (NOT mine) she apparently never read any rules about moral standards. Or, I guess she did since she felt so guilty that she told everyone in my ward that I was doing those things...I guess that is a partial confession? Anyway, they used to hold "meetings" in MY room about me and I could hear her down the hall describing to much of our RS all "my" sins. And they believed it. That is what hurt. I was a total Jersey girl and one of two in the ward who didn't think it was improper to call a boy and ask him out AND to go on dates with many of the guys to get to know them instead of just eye-ing one and making him cookies. They believed her...until she got caught and was asked to leave. Most of the girls still hated me though and told me so.

So...if I seem jaded by Utah, this was my first introduction. I was very grateful for the torment experienced in middle school for not being rich enough. I had already experienced that lame war. I had already learned how dangerous girls can be in a group. I had already discovered my inner strength and confidence. I knew it would blow over and that I was only a temporary part of that ward. I discovered though that religion does not necessarily make a difference. I saw the same in the "scary" Jersey girls that so many people want to keep their kids from as I did in these righteous young women. We all have something to outgrow and it doesn't matter where you are from. I guess that is part of why I get defensive when people worry so much about their kids growing up in Jersey...it can happen anywhere.

So here's the weirdness part: There was so much emotion there that I still felt so tied to and interested in these sisters...even after all of that. I guess that is what family is about...even temporary family- there is good and bad and you accept it all.

By the way, I also met 2 of my best friends in that ward...we really stood by each other for a long time...I miss them. It was a lot of fun in the beginning and by the end I had made a few friends...all from the east coast actually.

Do you find that you still feel positive connections to that which was painful? Maybe it is the growth that we yearn to remember and relive from our trials?

(PS- I also saw and remembered Veldon, the boy who asked me out by throwing and hitting me in the head with a note wrapped around a slightly broken basket filled with stale candy...sometimes I really hated being asked out!)