Skip to main content

Just Call Me "Sista-Gurl"

                                                       (Brittany outside the MTC July 27, 2011)
Whew, ok, so, its really been two weeks already?! Where have I been?! But time has passed so fast/slow, I don't even know if I'm facing backwards or forwards at this point. I just gotta keeping movin' along, singin' a song, playing ping pong, (no, I don't think we're allowed to do that. When in doubt... don't do it!)
Yes, that was me implying there are a freakish amount of rules. And this is me saying it: THERE ARE A FREAKISH AMOUNT OF RULES! But the weird thing is, I feel like I was made for this life. I have a good background in Spanish, I don't get homesick as easily (yes family, I still miss you), as I did when I first came to college because I now have the emotional experience and maturity to cope with my feelings. I know what to expect. I have become a cyborg. My dad will have to help me out and correct me if my nerd references are off. I think he owns stock in the Sci-Fi channel. But really, I feel like I was preparing to be a missionary and I didn't even know it. And that will help me through those times of having to hand wash underwear, or dealing with my face (which sweats like Seattle rains). So yeah, there are rules.
*Be up at 6:30 a.m., be in bed by 10:30.
*Study. Eat.
*Study more. Eat (less).
*Be with your companion always, always, and did I mention always?
*Be dressed modestly (well, yeah) and look sharp 
                                                                 (At the Provo Temple)
These are a few of many. There are 82 pages dedicated to this lifestyle and we have to read at least 3 of them a day. But I have few troubles with the rules, except for one, and it's surprising: We're not supposed to call Elders "guys, dudes, bros," or basically anything except for Elder (inset last name here). Same for Sisters. No "girl, gal, lady," etc.
Why is this so hard? Beats me. I guess because I don't think of as missionaries all the time. Which we are. My district (48H, best in the world!) was playing sand volleyball the other day, and when one of the Elders who is super short and ridiculously loveable made a terrific save, I just want to go slap him on the back and yell, Oh, yeah, that's how it's done, Zackerson!" (Oh, that's another rule. NO TOUCHING of the opposite sex. The reasons should be more or less obvious). So I have to make do with a high five and slip in an Elder. Not too hard in theory, but in practice...
Which is why I think of myself as Sista, or Girl. or better yet, the two together. I also like Hermana cuz it sounds less lame than Sister for some reason. I really liked it the other day when I was playing four square in the gym, and I was the only girl. I was making some pretty naughty plays and schooling many of those 19-year old guys. Elders. You know what I mean. And every time I did a particularly good play, they'd clap and yell "oooooooooh, Hermana!" Now that, I can handle.
Anyways, all-in-all, I am really enjoying myself. And in just one short week, I will be on my 17-hour flight, Dominican Republic-bound. Scary. Awesome. I'm gonna be so covered in Spanish, it's not even funny. And I will speak so well, no one will know I'm not native. Except for everyone with eyes. And ears, probably. Well, till next time, this is me, from the Provo MTC (for now), and I am still, for a year-and-a -half, Sista Gurl.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Said What I Said

So... once upon a time, I used to blog. I blogged for the entirety of my 19-month mission in the Dominican Republic, I blogged, when I came home, and I blogged when I moved to Washington with my mom and little sister. I moved to Arizona, where I still currently live, over five years ago, and that's apparently when the blogging stopped. Ok, well, I did become a frequent contributor for the Young Mormon Feminists blog, but for the sake of simplicity, I'm referring to this, my personal, me-centric blog. I could go into agonizing detail as to why, but I won't. I'll save my retroactive posts about what went on between the world n' me during those fast and furious five years at some point in the future. Some of the best stories are told anachronistically anyway. But I digress. When I revisited this blog for the first time in years a few days ago, I had a pretty obvious epiphany-- that it's essentially my electronic diary, a more permanent way to preserve my tho...
Post a Comment
Read more

Here I Am... Rock you Like a Hurricane!

O sea, WE were the ones rocked by a rather beastly Hurricane named Issac. I learned (or relearned, I don´t remember), that Hurricanes are named after the people that discover them. I can´t tell if hoping to find and name a future Hurricane "Hurricane Sweeney" is in bad taste or not. But considering we didn´t really have too many negative side effects, I really have no beef with hurricanes. Just that Issac made it so I couldn´t leave me house for two days in a row. And considering we don´t have radio, Internet, T.V., those two days COUNT! So what do trapped missionaries with a mild case of cabin fever do? 1). Make no bake cookies by candlelight (you´re probably not going to have constant light during a hurricane). 2) Attempt to nap. My body won´t let me nap on the mission, but I think during Issac´s visit, I finally managed to succeed. 3). You fight with your companion over whether or not Issac´s howls sound more like her name or yours. I´m still convinced Issac was coming fo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Mission Missin' Reminiscin'

There's a guy I work with at Vivint named Brandt. I think he's great; he's one of those nice Mormon guys who seems like the type who lives what he believes without imposing his views on anyone. One time, he and another "colleague" of ours were talking about their significant others. Instead of barging in on my love life or lack thereof, they very kindly and timidly asked me if I had a "bu, bu, bu, boyfriend !" I said I didn't, to which they both immediately urged me to take my time, no rush. I don't know why that was nice to hear, but it was. Even though I'm pretty independent, there's just something nice about knowing that SOMEONE out there shares a similar view to my own. Then he came up to me at my desk today to inform me and another friend sitting nearby that he'd had a dream about me- and that I'd ended up with a great guy. There's just something about him that makes his comments and actions seem genuine and consequently,...
1 comment
Read more