Take Me Out!



Sir Arthur

      Quick disclaimer: Yes, I know this is long. And entertaining, in my humble opinion. That said, if you are running late to an appointment with the podiatrist or your cat needs feeding, you are more than welcome to just read the last paragraph. That's the important part!

     It's a beautiful afternoon in sunny Murrieta, California! I flew in Monday after a weeklong vacation home to Utah and was taken aback by the searing heat and humidity that has encroached even in such a short time. It was a blazing 108 degrees yesterday! Speaking of yesterday, I went on a delightful date last night. Truthfully, I wasn't even aware that it was a date until I arrived. However sneaky, it was the most excellent first-ever true-blue California date I could've asked for!

     The first (and, so far, closest) friend I made when I moved to the Murr just 5 weeks ago is named Blaire. She is a lovely young lady and gee whiz, do we have a good time. Blaire's heading to USU at the end of the summer. Can you believe it? The second I move away, I find out that everybody I know and love is going to be where I was. She introduced me to Kayla, an equally fantastic girl who also happens to be attending Utah State's fall 2012 semester. The three of us share the status of newly minted high school graduates, and one might venture that we're all pretty tight.

     On Monday afternoon Blaire called to invite me to go to FHE (Family Home Evening - our Young Single Adult branch holds FHE every Monday night) with her and Kayla. None of us had gone before and we were all slightly nervous that there would be hardly anyone there, but Brother and Sister Cox's living room was packed with the young folk like a can of sardines. A fine group of gentlemen offered to us their seats on the couch, which we graciously accepted, and then Alex, a refreshingly opinionated college senior to whom our acquaintance had not yet been made, tucked himself into the spot next to Blaire. Kayla and I raised eyebrows at one another more than a few times as Alex focused in on making conversation with our companion throughout the evening, and we later discovered that he had asked for her number (score!). After the phenomenal lesson, we found ourselves in a social circle with Alex and his good friend, Chris, whose cousin and roommate, Jared, was also present at FHE. We all got along smashingly, and in the midst of a short lull I was kindly informed that I have "very voluptuous lips" by Mr. Chris. I could have sworn I heard crickets and I stuttered out an "Oh...o...kay...thank...you?" And then we all awkwardly laughed about it. Looking back on it, I think he was intentionally being creepy for the purpose of amusement. Kayla and Blaire decided it was his way of trying to let me know that "girl, he wants to talk to you!"



Voluptuous lips, eh?



     Upon my arrival home, I received a text from Blaire asking my thoughts on a proposition from Alex that the three of us girls go hang out with the guys at their apartment the following night. Let's see. How old were they again? They seemed nice enough. Clean-cut. Friendly. Sufficiently good-looking. We might as well go out on a limb, right?

So there it was. Last night I Google Maps-ed their address and, naturally, had to call and ask for better directions. The six of us met in the parking lot of Eagle Glen, a relatively higher-end apartment complex, and the boys explained their plan. We were going to play "bocce ball," with a few customized rules of Alex's. The boys had already picked their teammates: obviously, Alex had chosen Blaire, and then Chris told me he decided the gingers should be together (pretty sure he's not a ginger...more of a toehead...but he justified it with freckles) and that left Jared and Kayla. Chris and I dominated. That's all. After a quick run to our local Vons for ice cream, we all returned to Chris and Jared's apartment to enjoy each other's company. What do you know? Jared is enrolled for spring semester at - wait, don't say it - Utah State University. Jeez freakin' Louise.

     When the time came to make a break for it, everyone exchanged cheerful g'byes. My date high-fived Blaire and Kayla, but when I went to receive mine he made a face and scoffed, "Embrace me!" Saaaw-ree! It was a good ol' hug.
     Tonight my newfound girlfriends and I have plans to watch chick flicks and discuss our older-man date over applesauce. Odd? Yes. Delicious? Double yes. I've resolved to make my own.


San Diego Temple

      Now, you have to understand how apprehensive I was at the thought of attending a YSA branch. I had it in my mind that the first guy I talked to was going to be some 30-year-old returned missionary with a receding hairline who concluded immediately that I should be his eternal companion. WHAT? No. It took endless convincing from my mother to assure me that there would be people my age and I would be allowed to say no if some dinosaur wanted to date me. But guess what? I love my branch with all my heart. It's full of such incredible people. And after FHE and last night, I have hope! Not to mention some sage advice:



MJR, My Jolly Russian

      Going on a date with someone does not mean the two of you are dating. In fact, I've been on dates that confirmed to me exactly why there are certain people I will never date again as long as I shall live! A date is intended to allow two people or a group of people to get to know each other better. Hey, we met these guys and went on a date with them within 24 hours. We weren't exactly the best of friends before we got together. I do think there is a time and a place for a group of people to just hang out and talk or play games or whatever without it being a "date." That said, I have to say I probably prefer actual organized dates. They don't require romance or attraction! So boys, get over yourself and ask her out. And girls, don't be creeped out when he does. He might turn out to be an amazing guy. Unless he doesn't wash his hands after using the restroom, or he makes you pay for everything, or he speaks to or of you or your friends disrespectfully, or he swears like a Russian sailor, or he smells like a Russian gymnasium. No offense to Russians. I happen to know a particularly dashing one back home.

Happy socializing!