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Friday, June 3, 2011

i'm risking my six month plan by telling this story to the interweb.

the bishop thinks i'll be married in six months, right?  and maybe i can pull it off...  depending on how choosey i am.



please avoid focusing on cruelness of this story... focus just on the facts.  and pretend you're hearing this from your bestie over lunch... because this is how real girl talk goes down.
... and honestly. someone tell me HOW to say any of this without sounding like an awful human being. 


last week, my partner-in-ward-service-committee-crime told me that when she was sending out reminder text messages to the people who signed up to help at our most recent activity, she got a string of text messages back from "the ward creep"

c'mon, people.  we all know what/who she's talking about.  there's a creep in every singles ward.

i laughed and considered myself lucky to have not been given the texting task in the division of party planning responsibilities. ... until a mysterious number appeared on my phone on monday night. and like all unrecognizable numbers, i let it go to voicemail.

ENTER TWO AND A HALF MINUTE LONG VOICEMAIL FROM WARD CREEP.
he asked if {1} i was really in the ward he was in. {2} if i'd be interested in getting together with "a group of people" who get together outside of the standard activities. {3} i knew, at all, what he was talking about.

he has no idea who i am.  if anything, i am a thumbnail photo on his computer screen of the ward website that he has fully dissected.

i didn't call him back.  since i communicate with strangers for a living, personal phone calls are a luxury in my life that i choose to dole out at my discretion.

and then he called again on tuesday.
and on wednesday.
and TWICE on thursday.
once from the number i programmed in as "creep" in my phone so as to remember NOT to answer it.
and again at 10 o'clock at night from his parents land line.
{thank you whitepages.com reverse phone look up app}

STOP CALLING ME.
{are you the one posting portuguese love letters on my blog?}
no, i do not want to go to supplement my ward activity schedule with more ward activities.  i don't even want to go to the standard ward activities.

so what's a girl to do?
text her bestie:

a:  miss?
j: here.
a:  the ward creep has called me every night this week.  tonight he called twice.  from two numbers.  reverse phone look up... i checked. he lives at home.  help.
j:  miss, you need to text him or tell him you are not interested.  creepster.  are you safe?
a: i'm fiiiiine. but i'm not talking to him.  will you ask your husband to do it for me?
j:  haha. text him or if he calls when i see you on saturday, i will answer.
a:  co-worker ben said he'd answer if he calls while i'm at work.  seriously, though.... stop calling me.
j:  so so weird... seriously.
a:  it's my fate.  i might as well accept it and claim him as my six month prize.  i'd beat the deadline...
j:  sick.  i'm sorry miss.
a:  right?  awful. i'm changing my number.  and maybe wards, too.  and this is great blogging material, but i bet he's a computer nerd and he's already stalking my blog.
j: omg, he loves you! he will not take you to applebees.... he knows.
a: dang it!  he'll take me to bruges waffles and buy me nail polish.
j:  he would... and he will study up on his pop culture and ask you about your bestie.
a:  seriously.  i'm dying...... OF LAUGHTER IN MY BED.
j:  he has studied the aubry wiki
a:  someone is playing a horrible joke on me.
j:  it's god... choose stable or choose crazy.... but crazy knows about pinterest and your anthro wedding dress.
a:  right.  he's already saving $1030 for my no-nonsense bhldn wedding
J:  yup.  and he got rid of his pets for you too.
a: ohmygosh, i've given him so much material to work with.  i've created my future mr. perfect.... but i don't want hiiiiiiim..............

answering my phone when he calls would be too obvious... and solve my problem with way too much ease.  life cannot be that simple.
instead, i will keep dodging the ward creep on sunday {in addition to the guy across the street who looks at me through my window} and hope he gets the message, loud and clear, when he reads this blog post.

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