Girl Talk

Why have conversations between girls at a slumber party been given the endearing nick-name "girl talk?"  If you consider the topic of these conversations, 99.9% of the time it will be centered around boys.  So why not call it boy talk? I don't know. Personally I think it's a much more fitting title.  Oh well.

Tonight, my roommate Sam and I stayed up chatting and our conversation went directly to our boyfriends.  We quickly got caught up in exchanging stories of how we met, the first date, the first kiss, and all the absolutely adorable things about them. Then the topic changed to how wonderful it is to not only have them as a boyfriend, but as a best friend which is something that I find to be essential to a relationship.

I love being able to say whatever I want, do whatever stupid thing I feel like doing because I'm not afraid to look like a dork in front of him, and feel so comfortable around him to the point where I can be completely myself.

It's funny how two girls can sit and talk about boys for hours, and probably go on for days on end if they had the time. Girl talk (or boy talk. Maybe my short, but very persuasive, argument earlier convinced you to change your ways.) is fun, uplifting, and helps you to be happy. This night would not have been nearly as much fun without my chat with Sam (or worth staying up until 1:54 AM).

Stick Shifts and Flashing Lights

I am a confident and good driver...when I am driving an automatic.  Before this last March, the closest thing I had come to a manual transmission was our 4-wheeler. Lets just keep that in mind.

On Sunday Derek and I made some delicious brownies. We decided to take some over to Abbie and Adam so that they could share in the deliciousness that was the brownies we had made. (Yes, I said "was" because as of two days ago, they are gone.) After dropping off the treats and chatting with them for a few minutes, we said our goodbyes and headed out the door. I had been promising Derek that I would practice driving his car because it's a manual transmission, so he finally took me up on that and we drove to an empty parking lot for me to practice. So far, so good...a little rough, but I was getting the hang of it. He then said:

"Hey Tay, why don't you drive home?"
"Derek, I don't think I can!"
"Come on Tay, just drive home."

So without another word, I pulled out of the parking lot and drove home.  Now, lets keep a few things in mind:

1. Before this evening, I had only ever driven a manual transmission once for about ten minutes.
2. I have never before driven in Rexburg.
3. I was extremely nervous and all my focus was on making sure I didn't kill the car in the middle of the road.

As I approached the roundabout, I realized that I was speeding. I slowed down, went through the roundabout, and as I look in the rear view mirror, I see flashing lights.  My mind instantly goes into panic mode, my sympathetic nervous system kicks in, and I pull the car over and successfully kill it. I turn to Derek and say with panic in my voice, "I don't have my driver's license!"

I didn't have my license because I was not planning on driving that evening. After the officer explained to me what I had done, I was speeding (at least he was nice about it) he asked for my license and I said somewhat sheepishly, "I don't have it because I was not planning on driving this evening."  Luckily, he took the insurance and registration and let us off with a warning.

When I finally pulled the car into the parking lot of my apartment complex, shut it off, and climbed out I looked at Derek and said, "Well we'll just see when the next time I drive your car is."

I'd Rather Have a Fish

My family moved into our house in August of 1993 and we still live there today. Not long after we moved in, we got cats. One was named Fern and the other Mr. Murray.  Murray died a few years later after running away and getting into something.  So we buried him and got another cat and named him Ernie.  These were the two cats that you would see meandering around my property if you ever visit my home. Well, our sweet cat Fern died a few days ago, and now it is just Ernie all alone.  He and Fern never really seemed to be the best of friends, but now that she's gone, our poor Ernie is mourning. 

As I was discussing this with Derek we got to the topic of how we're both really dog people. We think cats are....fine, but we'd rather have dogs. I brought up the point that maybe people in old age might want cats because they are easier to take care of, they aren't quite as high maintenance as a dog might be. Dogs need to be played with, need constant attention, and need to be let out to go to the bathroom while cats just need food and a litter box and they're good to go! They entertain themselves. So maybe that's why some elderly people prefer to have cats. Derek looked at me and said, very seriously, "Tay, I don't want a cat. Even when I'm old and saggy. I'd rather have a fish."