A boy talked to me this morning. It was kind of funny. I came to the institute early to do some homework, because some cuss-word cuss-words are siphoning our internet somehow. I was looking for a plug near a table or a chair, because Defunct Dell cannot survive for longer than 3 minutes unless it is constantly sucking at an energy source. Alas, the only plug that was near a table also came with a boy who was doing homework on his computer. As technology has not yet advanced to the point where one can know the intentions of another by just looking at them, nor does the social code allow for a blatant statement of one's intentions, I had to just keep in my mind that I knew that the only thing I wanted was to do my homework, not husband-hunt. It went well for about thirty minutes, until he had to plug his computer in. This also required (being serious here) that he sit directly across from me. Annoyance. But I read his intentions as "also just doing homework". Still, about ten minutes later he was silently hemming and hawing, looking around, up, down, and I, curious to see whether he would actually speak to me, refused to initiate the conversation. Eventually, he did. A few sentences were exchanged, and then I got back to work, though I knew I could have continued the conversation. Again, I was curious to see whether he would pick up the conversation later, or leave it at that. I was surprised when he, while packing up, again attempted some words. I was pleased with his performance and conversed with him. The conversation was light and friendly, without awkwardness, and shortened when I mentioned that I was going on a mission. It was an interesting experience, being the first time a boy initiated a conversation with me when I was plainly hunched in my work. I wonder what variable caused a conversation to be had in this situation as opposed to other similar situations. I can say one thing, though: being engrossed in one's work is apparently not an absolute deterrent in a boy's determining whether he will begin a conversation, as I have hitherto been led to believe.
In other news:
I still don't have my call. If it doesn't come this week or the next, I'm contacting my stake president.
I attended a YSA ward this past sunday in the hopes of obtaining some friendships for the purpose of performing out-of-the-house activities with people. I will continue to attend.
I've rediscovered my love for video games, to my fortune and misfortune. It gives me something to do, but it's not a productive something to do.
I'm taking four institute classes, one being a mission prep class. It's the best religion class I've ever had.
My dreams of late have been vivid, and memorable. They're the kinds of dreams that cause me to be affected for the remainder of the day, with some dreams having a larger impact than others.
I am glad to be going on a mission, but if I had a choice, I think I'd rather be married. But I can tell that I won't be married until after.
If you've never read The Time Machine by H.G. Wells, do so. It's a wonderful short story.
If any of the few who read this blog know of any good fantasy-adventure books, or any books which feature a charming, male, loveable-rouge type character as the protagonist, let me know. These are my favorite kinds of books, and my favorite kinds of characters.
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