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    What's all that white stuff?  echo $newRAM;
    added Sat November 01 2003 at 1:36 PM
    It's all melted now, but it snowed last night. Big fluffy flakes, gently floating toward the grass. It never did stick to the road here in Provo (at least not that I saw). But I went out with Merry and her roommates and slid down the library hill a few times way too late last night. I dunno if it was just to be with Merry, or because I was excited to see the snow. It was fun either way.

    It was sticking to the road in Pleasant Grove. Since I knew that, I guess it's kinda obvious that I was up in Pleasant Grove last night. I'll talk about that in a minute. This was the first time I've driven this car in snow. It may have been the first time in a very long time that this car has been in snow. I think that the scariest moment of the evening for me was when I realized that I couldn't see the lines on the freeway, and that for the last minute or two, I had just been following the tail lights of the car in front of me. Don't worry mom, I was being careful. I took it nice and slow the entire time that I was driving.

    So why Pleasant Grove, you ask? I took a date up to a haunted house up there. Note the fact that this entry was written for the snow, and not the date...

    I've definitely been on worse dates, it just wasn't what I was hoping for. This was the girl that I thought might be showing a little bit of flirtatious interest in me earlier, and there was none of that last night. After we got back from the haunted house, I asked if she would like to go to a dance on campus. I understand that she had chemistry homework to work on, but that definitely wasn't the answer I was wanting. So for the rest of the night, I was flying solo. It turned out great (I had a lot of fun last night. Thanks Merry.), but that was still just a little dissappointing.

    It's snowing again.

    I thought you were old.  echo $newRAM;
    added Sat November 01 2003 at 1:57 PM
    That's what she said to me. I didn't know whether to be upset or happy.

    Now, keep in mind that old is a relative term. She's 18, and she thought I was 22 or 23. We joked for the rest of the time we were talking about how my hair was looking a little white, and other old man jokes (like what I tell my dad). But the point is that she seriously thought I was 3 years older than I am.

    That said, it was an easy mistake. Not that I look that old. In fact, I probably look about 17 or 18 still. However, she knew that this is my third year at BYU. At BYU, a fairly accurate generalization is that all the guys who are not freshman (and a lot who are freshman) have already served 2 year missions. Furthermore, almost 4 out of 5 of the guys in my ward have served missions (this isn't a very accurate estimate, but it is true that a lot of the guys are RMs). Now, if I had served a mission already, then I would automatically be assumed to be at least 21 (bare minimum). Because it's my third year at school, it is assumed that I've been back from my mission for 2 years, making me either 22 or 23.

    I don't hide the fact that I'm not an RM, but I also don't go out of my way to diminish the appearance. Around here, it is assumed that a guy is not mature unless he is an RM. the guys who haven't served missions yet are all immature little kids. Reality is, however, that I'm not a little kid any more (unfortunately). At least not in the sense that people assume. It's funny, but there are even a considerable number of freshman girls who are not willing to date anybody but RMs. What makes this entertaining is that I see some of these girls, and they still have a lot of growing up to do.

    So the solution is that I just let people assume. I will not lie. I have yet to tell anybody that I served in California, and that I'm 22 years old. But I allow them to think that this is so if they really want to. This at least makes them willing to accept the person I am until they know me a little bit. It's a lot easier for some people to find out that I'm a person and later find out that I'm not an RM than it is for them to realize that I'm not an RM and later find out that I'm a person.