Words of Wisdom from my Home-Teachers

So I had a very long day today and was still on campus when my roommate called me to remind me that my home teachers were coming over. For any non-Mormons reading this, home-teachers are two random guys who live in your church congregation who are assigned to be your friends. They are supposed to visit every month and share a gospel message.

Tonight they made us hamburgers with mashed potatoes! Because 4 months ago at the beginning of the school year, we told them it was our favorite food! So that was kind of fun. Then we all sat around eating and talking and I asked them if they had any mission advice for me. It turned into a litany of mantras passed back and forth for about 30 minutes between the two of them. The advice they were giving was just too good to not write down. So here they are. Some are serious, some are funny. Some are blatant rip offs from famous people in authority.

-A clean apartment is a happy apartment.

-Buy your food together, and cook together. Don’t ever cook alone.

-You will cry.

-Don’t have a boyfriend while you are on your mission.

-Keep your heart locked and your windows open.

-Follow your gut instinct, 90% of the time it is the spirit and the other 10% is good practice.

-Look at people deep into their eyes until you see the child of god in them.

-Don’t brag about your accomplishments at home. Because nobody cares.

-Be obedient. Just don’t be good at being obedient.

-Be an animal not a robot.

-Be obedient, don’t force obedience on others.

-James E Faust once said “Faith is the power, obedience is the price, the spirit is the key, Christ is the reason, love is the motive of missionary work.”

-Charity never faileth—that’s a great motive. It never fails.

-Internalize chapters 3, 8 and 11 of preach my gospel.

-Use the scriptures. If you don’t, it’s like telling Nephi, no! I got this!

-Preach my gospel…that is the scriptures. Just kidding. That’s a joke.

-Respect your mission leaders. Don’t make their life a living heck like all the other sister missionaries.

-If you have a problem, first pray about it. Then talk to your companion before talking to any authority figure.

-Pray right after you shower. Otherwise you will fall asleep on your knees.

-This might sound crude, but enjoy any time in the shower or on the toilet because it’s the only time you are ever alone and don’t have some weirdo next to you.

-Pray out loud in the shower.

-Teach people, not lessons.

-Don’t follow your lesson plans exactly.

-Don’t look at your watch throughout the day.

-Don’t calculate at all. Just don’t calculate. You will go into spiraling depression.

-Don’t expect big things on holidays. Expect to cry on Christmas Eve.

-Don’t feel bad if you sneak out to watch the fireworks.

-If you need to, take a break and buy a bagel or something. Go to a bakery. It’s warm there.

-Remember obedience is the first law of everything and the difference between a 100% obedient missionary and a 90% obedient missionary is not 10%. Mind blown.

-Respect your senior companion. You will be a senior companion one day. And you will be grateful when your companion obeys you and submits himself to your will.

-Remember perfect worship of Christ is emulation. I have a poem I’d like to read now.

-Talk to everyone.

-Follow the spirit even if it doesn’t make any logical sense. The spirit defies logic.

-If you follow a prompting and it doesn’t lead anywhere, don’t lose confidence in your ability to follow the spirit.

-I think this counts as a lesson.

-Don’t ever think you’re smart. Like bible bashing? It’s bad.

-The biggest problem you will come across is not enemies of the church, but apathy. Yeah, yeah? (Fist-punch).

-Diligence is an outward expression of your love for the savior.

-Read chapter 4 and 6 over and over again and take the self-quizzes. At the end you can rate yourself for your Christ-like attributes and then you will have ratings. Like, yeah! I have a 6.7 charity! Man, my charity was always really low…

-Find ways to entertain yourself. My companion and I printed out a bunch of tiny pictures of ourselves and every time we went on exchanges we would just hide them all over their apartment. Last month at our mission reunion this other guy came up to me with a mini picture of me and said he found it in his wallet a week ago.

-One time, we decided to make a chocolate temple with these candy bars. So I made a foundation and brought it to district meeting and we sang ‘How Firm a Foundation” and I unveiled it and then Zach picked it up and broke the foundation.

-If you ever have a bad day, make crepes at night. Crepes are the best by far. They make you feel so good and they are so fun to make. We used to listen to the Wicked soundtrack while we made them. Now I know that whole thing in German.

-It’s good to have traditions with your companions.

-Take the time to be friends with the members, but make sure they still respect you as a missionary. Be a friend but not a buddy. Hahaha….leadership handbook. 

-On exchanges, always make a candle-lit dinner for your exchange companion. He will love you forever. And then he’ll say something really inappropriate.

-Don’t have P-day be the focus of your week…even though that’s impossible. But try.

-Celebrate P-day eve. IT’S THE BEST. P-day eve is the best day of the week.

-When you’re teaching people, don’t have your main motivation be to get them baptized but to help them.

-Talk to people as yourself from the heart, not just Preach my Gospel.

-Use object lessons. But KNOW what you are doing beforehand. Remember that one time…?

-Get the gospel art book. It’s the best. You’ll be so crave to look at images.

-Buy nutella, then make a crepe and wrap it ice cream. This is no longer mission advice. This is just life advice. 

I love my home teachers.

Life in a nutshell.

I've heard it said that if every person's problem's in the entire world were thrown into a pot and redistributed we would all be jostling to get our own problems back.

That's probably true.

But still.

Sometimes I get pretty fed up with myself and just wish that I could go hibernate or temporarily inhabit someone else's body or, I don't know, become a Tibetan monk or something.

Instead I'm moving to Africa next week.

I guess that's the next best thing?

To quote a poem I learned in elementary school:

I'm lost.
I've gone to look for myself.
If I should return before I get back,
Please ask me to wait.

I don't know a lot of things. Least of all myself.

For now all I can say is that I go to seek a great perhaps.

Moving Out

Hey friends,

So my freshman self would be shocked but I am actually SO SAD to leave Provo and move to Africa for the next couple months.

Ok, I'm not THAT sad about Africa, don't worry. I am way psyched to go back to Uganda and do development work. It's a dream come true. But it feels like the end of an era here. And it is. About 13 days after I get back from Uganda, I leave on my mission. How's that for mission prep? When I come back almost all of my friends will be gone and I will just be here on my own. Seeing as I have been with the same roommates for four years, that's pretty tragic.

But life goes on. It's just been stressful lately as I do prep work, analyze research from last summer and try to get my stuff all packed up to move it home this weekend. Not to mention saying goodbye to all the people I love.

I could go on and on about how crazy life is right now. But I'll stop. The point of this is that I'm pretty stressed but as I have been packing up I found a really cool quote on a stray piece of paper that I wanted to record before I throw it away.

Here it is:

"More than 100 years ago, Abraham Lincoln said that our nation could not exist half slave and half free. We know that a peaceful world cannot long exist one-third rich and two-thirds hungry."
 -Kennedy (I think!)

Just something to think about, guys.

Do you hear the people sing?

So I just got back from watching Les Miserables with my mom. I know, given my past obsession with the musical,  I'm a bit surprised myself that I didn't make it a priority to see it sooner! Anyway, I thought it was really great. I love those songs, I loved most of those actors and I just love the unadulterated, unapologetic romanticism of this story that has been enjoyed for over 100 years.

When I watch that musical and listen to those songs I feel like a revolutionary. I would like to think that I would have been brave enough to fight for what I believed in. That if I was a member of the upper crust, I would have treated the peasants differently. That if I was in a position of power like the Monseigneur,  I too would have had mercy and trust in a defeated man I didn't know.

It's easy to watch that musical and feel shivers about how how bad it was back then, and how marginalized the poor were and how corrupt the government was and then go off with our day because, um hello! Those things happened a couple centuries ago! Life is good now!

Sure, Marius, I would have joined in your crusade and stood with you, but...I don't live in revolutionary France. Your struggle is over and I'm already free. And all the people I know are too. So, great job. Your friends didn't die for nothing. I see myself and my own struggles echoed and amplified through your stories, I identify my own mistakes and fears with yours, but life just isn't as grand anymore. Not for me. For better or worse, life isn't a romantic novel.

But wait! Governments without the consent of the people? Little girls like Cosette trapped in slavery? Abject poverty that many of the wealthy ignore? Children like Gavroche fighting in civil wars and revolutions? Women like Fantine marginalized into prostitution to survive?

Sounds like...Uganda! And Tunisia! And Syria! And Thailand! And parts of the US that everyone ignores! Sounds like all sorts of places in the 21st century!

Each and every one of those larger than life characters from Les Mis is counterpart to a real person today. And there are so many of them. Some are literally the beggars at our feet as we cross the street or as we drive through the next zip code. Some are in far away lands like Sudan or Palestine. But in a globalized world of ever increasing international trade these people are our neighbors in a very real way. Surely we can afford to export compassion as well as grain.

The French Revolution is over. The American Revolution is history. World War Two is a topic for Oscars winning movies.

But, there are so many battles left to fight. The war against poverty is just beginning. People are finally starting to talk about it and, most importantly, listen to the calls of global injustice and inequality. The human race is good at responding to the call to arms. It's in our nature. The pages of history are littered with glorious battles.

The thing is, providing health care to a child with diarrhea or a family without mosquito nets is so much less epic than following a flag into battle. For the time being, our personal liberties and safety are not at stake. I mean, yes, I could make an argument about how human security affects US National Security because the poor and marginalized are more likely to become terrorists, but that's not my point. My point is that the war against poverty and all the oppression and injustice that often accompanies it is, largely, not our own. To a degree its against foreign governments not fulfilling their duty to their people (which I also won't say much on because then we get into American Exceptionalism, which is a controversial topic). But, most importantly, this war on poverty is, in a way, against ourselves.

Let me explain that. NO I absolutely don't mean that we personally caused inequality or should feel guilty about it. But we are in one of the most unique situations in the history of the world in that we can actually do something about it! I really believe that. We have the resources that no other generations have had. The internet gives us a way to mobilize like never before. It gives us information about the state of the world  that we can't ignore. It's given us an easier way to give monetarily to causes we believe in.

Money by itself won't solve these problems, but, put in the hands of an honest, transparent organization committed to a purpose you believe in, it sure would help. Last summer my parents were kind enough to give me some money to pass along to a girl, Sharon, whose education had been interrupted by the civil war in Uganda and who had no funding to go back. They gave her a fairly large sum which paid off debts she had owed for previous school semesters as well as the tuition for the coming term.

As I prepare to go back to Uganda next month, I've been trying to figure out a way to get her more money to pay for her next semester. I thought it would require some big sacrifice on my part. But as I went through my records I was rather humbled by what I found. The costs of Sharon's school semester, a fee so great in their economy that many don't graduate high school, was 123,200 Ugandan shillings.

That's 45 dollars and 38 cents.

To put that in perspective, that's the cost of perhaps 2 shirts at target, dinner for 3 at Applebees, or a few movie showings at the theater.

On a student's budget its not nothing-but it's worth thinking about. As the venerable C.S. Lewis said, "I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare...If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us,... they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditures exclude them."

I'm going to keep buying myself stupid unnecessary things just because I want them. But I'm trying to train myself to at least put things in perspective and consider the fact that the money I'm paying for a pair of shoes is more than what I would need to give to help a girl receive her education. Sometimes I will carry on. Sometimes I may re-evaluate because really, there should be some things I would like to have and cannot have because my charitable expenditures exclude them.

What I'm saying is that, guess what? Be careful what you wish for, Jenny. There is a revolution going on now. It's a bit abstract and you won't have to die for it. So that's a relief. But its there and to ignore it or refuse to participate in it in any way shape or form is to deny a moral imperative. There is suffering and there is pain and their is inequality and there really is some little thing you and I can do about it. And if we all do that little thing, who knows? Big things may start falling into place.

I don't get to stand on a barricade, but I do get to stand on a soapbox! This tirade is as much a sermon to myself as anyone else. But to prove that I put my money where my mouth is, I'm stepping off this comfortable self-righteous soapbox real soon and am heading out to Uganda next month to work for a development cause I believe in. And while I'm there I'm gonna find Sharon, I'm gonna go with her to her school. And I'm going to personally pay for next semester's tuition.

If anyone else wants to contribute some small amount to help victims of civil war receive an education feel free to let me know--there's no overhead!

Vive La Revolution!

Sharon and Rom- the angel who helped me get the money to her

Self-Recognition

You know that phrase that people use to describe something they could easily recognize?

They say, "I know it like the back of my hand."

It's supposed to prove a point. But, I've been thinking lately. I don't really know the back of my hands very well. If I were asked to pick out my hand from a random group of dismembered hands... I don't know if I could do it. Especially if all of those hands were white.


It's just a thought.

Fate and Free Will: My Latest Existential Journey

HELLO WORLD!

I'm alive! And home in St. Louis! And I've done nothing at since getting here! After a couple days of sleeping in and watching hours of 'Once Upon a Time' I decided maybe I should do something marginally productive. So here I go. I've been meaning to write in here for awhile. But the most important things I had to write about were still secrets until a few weeks ago.

That aren't now. I'm not totally sure why they ever were, but sometimes I just have to baby my sub-conscious and keep things to myself for awhile, under my own control until I feel ready to let them go. If you are reading this blog, chances are that you already know everything I'm about to say. And I'm so sorry that this is so long. But I'm gonna say it anyway because I need to get it out in words. My two biggest things lately?

I'M GOING ON A MISSION! TO BOSTON!

also...

I'M GOING TO UGANDA! AGAIN!

I feel ridiculous. My life has been so incredibly, amazingly, unmeritedly blessed lately. But I'm going to be really annoying and say that...sometimes to many blessings can be a curse? Alright, no no. Not a curse exactly. But a trial. And why not? I've had trials turn out to be blessings, so why not blessings that amass into a bit of a trial? My problems are SO GOOD. And I don't want anyone to think for a second that I don't recognize that. But I've had some problems lately, nonetheless.

Let me back up for a second and just give this whole mission thingy the attention it deserves.

I never EVER thought that I would go on a mission. It just wasn't my thing. I thought sister missionaries were weird and awkward and just ugly girls who hadn't made the age 21 deadline of getting married in the Mormon world. And then my beloved sister Laura ('Sister Hurst' actually!) went on a mission and I became a bit more exposed to the whole thing. And I don't think my sister is ugly or dumb or anything like that--quite the opposite, so don't go there! She's weird yes, but all we Hursts are. I was intrigued that this girl I loved and respected was doing the whole mission thing, so I was forced to think about it a bit more, but I still didn't think it was for me. Laura was older and more gospel-oriented than I was.

Then I went to college. After freshman year, pretty much all the boys left on missions. Then, as they turned 21, girls from my freshman ward started trickling off as well. That was all well and good, but it still wasn't for me.

Then my roommate Kasey got her mission call to Hong Kong. And oh my gosh, I got so excited for her.  Basically I shocked myself with how happy I was for her and how giddy I was. And I started harboring a secret hunch that, despite my personal leanings, fate was going to send me on a mission. And I would go to Asia.

That summer I went to Cambridge. I met some really awesome girls. One of them, Jacqueline, was a returned missionary who had served in Japan. Another one was Lauren who ended up submitting her papers the year after we got home and is now in Malaysia on her mission. Why is this relevant? Well, these girls were really influential role models for me. They are both geniuses. They are both smart, free-thinking, beautiful girls with plenty of opportunities ahead of them, but chose to spend 18 months on a mission. They totally shattered  what was left of the rude stereotype of sister missionaries that I had in my head.

When I got back from Cambridge was when I first started seriously considering the mission thing. That's over a year ago. I talked to my bishop, started my papers and everything. And then I sort of just let it slide. I got distracted with other things and the timing wasn't right. I'm glad I didn't go a year ago. I've had so many important necessary experiences since then that I wouldn't trade for anything--most importantly, Africa.

Doing research for two months in Uganda really expanded my worldview and my love for strangers. I did work for hours on end that was both monotonous and emotionally draining. Seems like good preparation for a mission to me. Being in Uganda and seeing how happy many of the people were despite their poverty put some things in perspective for me. It made me see more clearly that material well being is never ever the end goal in life. Happiness is the ultimate goal of life. And money is not required for that.

I believe that the purest most sincere form of happiness comes from the gospel of Jesus Christ. Happiness comes from living that gospel. From being kind to others, from serving others, from building a strong family, from being loyal to your friends and to your family, from putting others before yourself and from the gratitude that comes from knowing that all things are a gift from a loving God. I want to dedicate my life to development. But, forgive me for the chessyness, I sort of determined that the development of the human soul was more important that the development of a human's material well-being. I want to do both. They are both incredibly important, especially at the margins.

But a mission is something I can only do as a young person. This is the only time that I can dedicate 100% of my time to the Lord. I don't have a family yet or a career. It's incredibly intimidating but also a very intriguing concept to spend 18 months of my life attempting to put others first. I want to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with people because I earnestly believe that it is the surest path to happiness. And I want to help people, and I want people to be happy. Not 'Christmas morning' happy, but 'inner joy' happy. Obviously, I can't do that on my own. But I want to put myself in a position that I can be an instrument in the Lord's hands, as they say. I plan to dedicate my professional life to development and to children's rights. After internalizing what I realized in Uganda-- that joy overcomes poverty-- it seemed like it was finally the time to put my mission papers in. I finally felt like maybe I was mature enough for such a big adventure.

Ok. Let's speed up a bit. I got back to the US from Uganda. I talked to my bishop. I convinced him that I was for serious this time. I didn't tell anyone but my family and my roommate, Lottie. I started my papers. I was working in them late into the night the morning of General Conference when they announced that 19 year old girls were suddenly allowed to go on missions.

I was rather put out. Knowing, as I do that everything is about me, I had assumed that something momentous would happen in regards to missions at this conference. I just thought that they would be, I don't know, opening China or something. But no. All it meant was that I was suddenly super old in the mission world as a girl about to turn 22. I felt a little irrelevant. And also, it became really difficult to get meetings with people since every girl and her younger sister was suddenly flooding the mission office with applications. I had planned on going on my mission in January. With the sudden flood of girls, leaders started telling me that I probably wouldn't get called until March or April.

March or April?! That was so far away. I wanted to go immediately before I lost the nerve! Nevertheless I decided I still wanted to submit my papers now rather than wait for another semester and I started trying to think of productive ways to spend the few months that would probably exist when I was not in school just waiting for my mission.

For anyone who doesn't know mission calls are pretty much out of your control. I put my papers in. I told them I was available to serve starting January 1st. After that, they can call me whenever and wherever they want. So, even though my availability date was for January I started making contingency plans. No one I knew was getting calls till later so it seemed like a reasonable thing to do. I signed up for classes for next semester. I applied for a grant that only enrolled students can get. Most importantly, I applied for a job in Uganda.

Jigga what now? I know. This job opportunity just fell from the sky. I was finishing up teaching my Friday lab one week and checked my email on a whim. There was a notice from the International Development Minor that there was a company looking for someone to evaluate an NGO in northern Uganda in February and March.

Holy Cow. It was like the heavens had opened up, light had descended on me and the universe was saying, here you go Jenny. This perfect opportunity with perfect timing for you. Most likely the time I would need to kill before my mission. I emailed the company as soon as possible and the more we talked, the more I thought, 'this is perfect.' I interviewed with them and felt that it went well and then didn't hear back for over a week.

I was on pins and needles. Here were these four huge futures laid out before me, all of them mutually exclusive.
1. Go on a mission in January.
2. Go on a mission later and go to Uganda instead in the winter.
3. Not get the Uganda job OR an early mission call and go to winter semester at BYU.
4. Not get the Uganda job, get a mission call for some point in the middle of the semester and chill in St. Louis until it was time to leave.

So timing was stressing me out. Also, location was stressing me out. I was terrified to go somewhere I would be disappointed with. I might be going to Paris or Tokyo. I might be going to Topeka Kansas. There was just no saying.

Well, I finally heard back from the Uganda job and... I GOT IT! It was SO exciting. I hadn't realized just how much I wanted it until I was screaming and dancing and running around and telling everyone I knew and just feeling so joyful about it. I thought. Ok. This is what God wants me to do. My mission call will come for April and it will just be a sign that I'm doing what God wants me to do. I can help people in Gulu and on my mission. My two worlds, the two things I love, were coming together.

After Thanksgiving, my call finally came. I could go into a lot of detail about that, but this post is already way too long. So basically, I opened my call and was so happy and excited and felt so blessed. And then I re-read it and saw that my call was for January 16.

Crap. I had already told the Uganda company that I could work for them. At first, it didn't seem like a big deal. I would just defer my mission until I got back and I could do both. I was a little annoyed that God hadn't manifested his will for me by making my call for later, but I didn't think it was a huge deal.

Turns out other people did. People who had no idea that I was even considering going on a mission were suddenly throwing their 2 cents in as I tried to just tell them how excited I was that I had gotten my mission call for Boston. They'd say things like 'well the Lord called you for this time, so you need to go now." Or they'd imply that the Uganda opportunity was somehow a temptation to be shunned so that I could do the Lord's work. They said, 'well, maybe there is someone important that you need to meet on your mission in January.' Not everyone was like that. But, enough were.

I was torn apart. It was a total guilt trip. And I'm a girl with a diagnosed anxiety disorder!

I'm not required to go on a mission. It's entirely my choice. But there is this superstition around mission calls that each and every aspect of it is dictated by God. What if I was ignoring God's will by defering my mission? It was just so confusing. Both a mission and the Uganda experience are great things. Both seemed like real, sincere, earnest, helpful ways to serve God's children. Evaluating an NGO in Uganda would help an organization to better serve the people that I love there in Gulu who were affected by the civil war. It would also help me along my life path, it could be a stepping stone for me towards my end goal of working for something like UNICEF and helping children as my career. I wasn't deciding between going or not going on a mission. I was deciding whether to go on a mission in January or in April. And what if there was something that I could give to the experience in Uganda that maybe someone else wouldn't be able to do? Was it selfish to think that way and accept the job? Or did I really have any special abilities or skills that would make my services in Uganda more valuable than the other applicants who had not been accepted?

I was so confused. Why couldn't God just reveal his will for me? If I was certain that it was important to Him that I go on my mission in January, I would have done it. But I did not get that answer. I didn't really get any answer. And I didn't have much time to be wishy washy. My call date was within a month and a half. My Uganda job needed a concrete answer. After days of prayer, anxiety, study, pondering, advise seeking and many many tears, I still didn't really know what to do. Had my fate been handed to me with that specific date on my mission call? Or did God still honor my free will to decide between two great things?

In the end, I decided that God didn't really care.

Yeah, haters! I really don't think he cares! In the best way possible. God wanted me to make my own decision. Agency is one of His most important gifts to each of us and, in this particular case, I'm not unique or  important enough that God can't accomplish his purposes in either Uganda or Boston with someone else. It's my business to do with my life what I will and to perfect myself in what way I think is best. And no, I didn't have this earth-shattering answer to prayer that indicated this sentiment. Because I didn't feel at all confident in my ability to receive personal revelation, I started praying for the option of last resort- "Heavenly Father, please stop me if I'm making a mistake." And then I decided to do what reason told me to do. And that was: have your cake and eat it too. Defer the mission, go to Uganda and then serve in Boston. Do both!

Willing to change my mind if lightning struck me down, I went through with the process of deferring my mission call. Really, I didn't have a big choice moment. I asked my bishop if it was possible to defer. My bishop talked to my stake president who was willing. He talked to the mission headquarters in salt lake. They were reticent, and my wonderful stake president fought for me. I didn't know what was going on. I just got a call saying, "your new mission call date is April 10, 2013."

And that was it. My existential crisis was, apparently over. I was doing both.

Which after a deep breath and moment of thought, brought on a whole slew of other worries now that each of them were real. Like, I'm not going to see my family for almost two years! Like, I'm going to get sick again in Uganda! And, I'm going to be so old! And, when will I finish school? And, all my best friends will be gone when I get back!

And I'm still dealing with those realities. But I've been taught a powerful lesson, and that is this: even though we choose our fate, that doesn't make fate void. More like a follow-through on our commitments. To quote the wise Regina Spekter, "you take the things you like, and try to love the things you took."

That's what I'm trying to do right now. I've taken two great things that I like. They will both reveal my flaws, they both force me to confront my insecurities, but they are mine because I have chosen them. And now, I am learning to love and embrace those decisions.

I know what you are thinking, "Jenny, you are so spoiled, how can you complain about these awesome things and say that they are trials, or that you have to force yourself to love them?!" And all I can respond is that it is what it is. And that is: I am afraid. These two things are going to require hard work, sacrifice and removal from the people that I love.

But I'm doing them.

These Streets

Ok, so I haven't written for a little while and I still have so much to write, but just to jump forward for a moment, something really creepy JUST happened that I need to report. I got home, told Laura about our adventure and then started writing in my journal so I could get the facts out before I started sensationalizing it. So here's what I wrote in my journal. Sorry its so poorly written. Just imagine me telling you this breathless, face to face: 

Alright. 

Thank heavens for best friends, cell phones, the police and a bag of gym clothes. 

Lottie and I just had the freakiest experience ever. I posted a status about being at the SWKT late that Lottie and my friend Rogelio started commenting on. Lottie said that she would come meet me at the bottom of the hill and Rogelio said to be careful of rape hill which I kind of made fun of him for. I didn’t even ask Lottie to come get me. She just felt like it. So we were talking on the cell phone as we walked towards each other (and she remarked that there was a police car around which was weird) and then we met up and just started walking. We got one block, to where the isles ends and I see this tall man dressed in drag coming towards us out of the dark. 

It was a tall guy, dressed in heels, wearing a blonde wig and a sheer black mask over his face. I pointed him out to Lottie and we both started walking a little closer to each other and were like ‘what’s going on?’ The guy just kept walking straight towards us so I was like “heyyy” because I was pretty sure that it was just a prank or something but it was still really scary cause he got to the point where he was only like 3 or less feet away. So we walked past him and he started following us. Lottie and I were holding hands by this point. 

Then, Lottie broke into a run, so I did too and the guy started running behind us. And I’m a really slow runner so I just turned around and hit him in the chest with my bag of gym clothes that I’ve had all day. I think I said something like “Seriously what are you doing?” and me and Lottie both screamed I think. The guy didn't say anything the whole time. Anyway, we made it to the other side of the street and just turned around to look at him. We weren't going to outrun him. 

So we just looked at him and Lottie was like “should I call the police?” and I was like “yeah.” So she did but hung up and the guy just kept staring at us. Then this girl on the other side of the street that we had just come from was like “Are you guys ok?” and I was like “yeah…there’s just a guy standing here.” And she was like “he’s been following me all night!” So I was like, “seriously Lottie, call the police.” So she did and she starts talking to them but it sounded pretty generic like she could possibly be bluffing so I called out to the guy who by this point was like 10 or 15 feet away but still staring at us. So I was like “She’s seriously calling the police.” And the girl on the other side of the street was like “ok, Austin stop now” or something. “Happy Halloween” (that last part to us). Which was like, what? And then she came over to our side of the street sort of hugged the guy, but forcefully to get him walking and was like “sorry, guys, come on Austin. Happy Halloween.”

And meanwhile Lottie (who can’t hear under the best circumstances) is talking to the police giving them our exact location. She told them that the girl and guy were walking off and the woman asked which way so we told her. Within about 1 minute we saw a police car going in that direction. Apparently they had gotten several calls about that guy tonight. Me and Lottie just walked the rest of the way home asking each other what the hell just happened?

 It was so not in good taste and it was so…inspired that Lottie decided to come meet me halfway and that we were together when that happened. I’m so glad I wasn't alone. And apparently I now know what I would do in a crisis. Run really badly, hit the person half-heartedly with a bag of clothes, scream and call the police.

Interesting.