This is how Tuesday night went:
Wyatt: Should we unpack Calvin’s room and go through stuff before we put it away downstairs, and get rid of extra “stuff?”
Me: Yeah. We haven’t done that in about three months, so we’re about due.
Wyatt: Are you being sarcastic?
Of course, we started with my stuff. At one point in the evening Wyatt pulled out an old leather camel from a box.
Wyatt: Now, I know there’s a reason, but I can’t remember what it is. Why do you call these your Chinese Lanterns?
It’s only happened twice in my life. Maybe that’s alot, I don’t know. But one of those times was when I met Morgen. I remember she walked through the door, to see if she wanted to rent a room at the house I lived in as a freshman. I saw her, and the thought that went through my head was: “She and I are going to be great friends all our lives.”
She moved her stuff in to her room the first day of the next semester, and then left. She had to have knee surgery, and was spending the first two weeks of the semester at her parents house, recuperating. I called her almost every day to fill her in on our other room-mates, our FHE brothers, what guys in the ward were cute, etc. etc. She didn’t know me from Adam, but I can be pretty chatty sometimes (I know, you’d never guess!), especially when I already know we’re friends.
By the time she came back we were best buds, and ran around campus doing all the typical freshman stuff together. By Christmas time the proverbial Road Trip was planned and eminent. Morgen had just bought a Mitsubishi Eclipse, and its sporty look was going to get us to the beach in Southern California. A gas card for food and gas and a place to stay at my aunts, and we were off.
We had visions of warm California beaches and great excitement. Instead, what we got was inclement weather, bad traffic, and a propensity for getting lost.
Prior to our departure, I had fixated on finding some Chinese Lanterns to hang from the ceiling in my room. Not those crepe paper things they sell at the dollar store, but the really big fabric ones you see at the tacky Chinese restaurants. I knew they would give my freshman bedroom that final decorating touch. Alas, none were to be found in any of the stores I frequented. I knew our trip to Southern California would be the perfect opportunity to find such treasures. We’d just hit China town!
Well, we did hit China town, and Vegas, and every other major shopping center two girls who don’t know anything could think of. I couldn’t seem to find such lanterns anywhere.
One day towards the end of the trip, we sat at Santa Monica beach. It was overcast and cold, but we’d come to go to the beach, so at the beach we sat. (Plus, with no money and no idea of how to get around, we were short on activities). But there was a creepy dude who just sat and watched us. We got sick of being fodder for his boredom, so we decided to cross the street to the Crazy Chicken (otherwise known as the Loco Pollo) for some free ice water. While there we saw a big banner at the Salvation Army across the strip mall parking lot. “FREE AIDS TESTING TODAY.”
We were bored, and it was free, so we headed across the way.
The testing was um . . . awkward . . . at best. Before they’d swab your cheek, you had to verbally answer all these really insinuating questions. As a doe-eyed little mormon girl from Utah, it was, um, awkward. After my cheek was swabbed, and I was given a slip to come back for my results, I began perusing the store. By the time Morgen came out, I had found two darling little leather camels. They were so random, and wierd. I bought them for $4.00.
When we got home to our own apartment, my failures in finding my Chinese lanterns was mitigated in my finding my camels. I took out some paper and wrote “Andrea’s Chinese Lanterns” in my most swirly handwriting, and pinned it to one camel. They sat on my desk for the rest of my college years.
Wyatt: So, are you going to keep them?
Me: (Hesitantly) No, we can get rid of them. They’ve just been sitting in a box.
Wyatt starts moving towards the garbage.
Me: Wait! I want to take a picture first.
Wyatt gives me a look that says he clearly doesn’t understand.
Who can understand another person’s memories?
ahhhh, good times.
I so remember that creepy guy, and the valet parking and the chicken place where we had to pay to pee and getting lost and you making me get into a garbage can on the beach and almost making me get run over by a semi (am I clear…yup, just go faster:)
and I am so glad to find out you didn’t have aids! that would have been awkward sharing a room with you and all:)
….remember when you wanted to hang a goldfish bowl from the ceiling:)
and this has nothing to do with the trip but remember dancing to MJ on our porch and that car full of creepy guys drove by like 5 times:)
ok, I will stop now cuz honestly I could go on forever at all the good memories!! I miss you, we need to get together.
Great story.
PS, glad your back, as in not puking and being sick all the time, I’ve waited all tax season for your return.