No really. It was so stupid that I was a little bit embarrassed to be myself.
Here's what it consisted of: my bangs back in a poof, a tealish-blue polo, blue and red and teal plaid bermuda shorts, and baby blue flipflops. Maybe this doesn't sound so bad to you....or maybe it sounds inexcusably horrendous to you. In any case, I feel the need to offer some sort of explanation. Starting with yesterday.
Yesterday I was mad productive. I finished unpacking (I know, a little late. Whatever.), did all my homework, laid out at the pool with Kelly, reading for our Marriage and Family class, went to my ward's FHE, shaved my legs, hung up all my freshly done laundry, went to Kelly's ward's FHE, and assembled stuff for the best package a missionary could ask for. This morning when I woke up, the first thing I did was carefully examine my new tan. I love tanlines. Most people hate them. I like them a lot. They remind me of how far I've come. Anyway, I was a little sad to discover that half of my forehead was pleasantly sunkissed, and the other half was pleasantly untouched. I guess my bangs were covering it up when I was tanning yesterday. I figured this was ok, since I could just keep my bangs there until it went away.
So that's a really nice plan, but it's not exactly helpful when you promptly forget about it as you're getting dressed for the day. Especially when your thoughts are occupied by other things, like, how am I going to dress my feet today? And then as you try to figure that one out, and you decide you might as well do your hair while your brain works on the shoe problem. And the next thing you know, you're running over to your sister's apartment, barefoot, with 6 minutes before the bus arrives, hoping that she will have a pair of flipflops that matches your color scheme a little better than your hot pink and black flipflops would, and you've completely forgotten to even think about your two-toned forehead. Any thoughts of your forehead that may have survived are pushed even further to the back of your mind as you discover that your sister had the same problem yesterday, and the flipflops she ended up wearing match your outfit about as well as shiny black dress shoes would match with a pair of basketball shorts.
But the bus is coming. And you ran to your sister's apartment barefoot, trusting that she would save the day with her enviable collection of footwear. So you have no choice but to wear the baby blue flipflops.
Really. Who honnnnestly thinks about their hair at a time like this?
So all day, as I was walking around, I imagined up things in my head that people were thinking about my flipflops. No one even really looking that hard at them. But I knew. All day, I knew that my flipflops clashed horrendously with my outfit. And it bothered me to no end.
Immediately after getting off the bus with Kali, who is lovely btw, we marched into the BYU bookstore, I filled with an impressive determination to buy the first pair of shoes I could find that would match acceptably. But alas, this determination faltered under the greedy eyes of the BYU bookstore, and my baby blue flipflops slapped the floor dejectedly on my march out of the bookstore, deterred by the $20 price tag on the white flip flops I left behind me, mocking my resolve. For the rest of the day, I avoided standing up and walking anywhere as much as possible because I was so disgusted by my flipflops.
And to those of you who think this is ridiculous, that my shoes affected my day to such an extent, I would just like to challenge you to walk a mile in these shoes.
PS I am back in Utah. NYC was great. I love my new roommates. I haven't taken any pictures since I've been here and it makes me sad. I wish my friends would get nice boyfriends. I'm kinda sad I missed Blue Knob this year. I like my classes so far. I'm going country dancing tomorrow. I love seeing random people I know around campus. Aside from the shoes, life is pretty good, all things considered. :)
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