Firsts

First few days on campus: Witnessed a group of freshman orientees playing red rover. One team set up their line in front of a thick hedge of thorny bushes. They obviously have never played red rover before. A very determined girl broke through the line, ran halfway through the hedge, tripped through the other half, and face planted on the cement. It made my day.

First roommates: Walked into the kitchen during the middle of a conversation betwixt my roommates about their former boyfriends. Tried to make a sandwich and leave as quickly as possible, but was accosted. Conversation went as follows:

Roommates: Tee hee, what about you Drew? What's your baggage?

Me, already halfway out of the room: Oh, I've never had a boyfriend. Not really interested in dating.

Roommates: Silence

Me: Silence

Roommates: Buuuuuuttt....you think boys are cute right?

Me: Seeya

First day at church in student ward: Sunday school teacher asked if anyone could guess what the first lesson was on. Some kid said marriage. Teacher said yes. I thought it was a joke. It wasn't. Talked about what qualities we should emulate if we want to attract a good spouse. The teacher then talked how it was Satan's influence that was causing so many women to have careers nowadays. Said that women should only go to school to prepare to have children. On the way home, my roommates raved about how hot the teacher was. I felt nauseous.

First class: U.S Government. A boy asked if instead of the New York Times, he could watch Fox News as a source for current events.

First Book of Mormon class: The instructor told us that we had to read 1st Nephi through Alma 29 in the next ten days. He then told us that liars go to hell. He produced a letter he had received from a former student. The letter said that lying about the reading had slowly destroyed this student's soul and she was now writing to beg for forgiveness. I went home immediately after and dropped the class.



Go Cougars

Now what?

I graduated.

I can't dress myself yet

I hear it's customary to think about one's future at this point in life, so that's what I've been doing. For the longest time, I've wanted to go into some film related profession. I based my school choices off how good their film programs were. So I applied to all these great schools, thinking I'd get into at least one. Turns out I overestimated my awesomeness, because i didn't get into any of them. So now I'm going to the place that I've always sworn I'd never go, BYU.

Now, I'm not bashing BYU. I know it's a good school. It's just that I'll be living ten minutes away from my house. And I think I've spent more than enough time in Utah then can possible be good for a human, and I really want to leave. And never live here again. And, if I do film at BYU, I'm going to have go through the program worrying that my dad will end up reading everything I write and seeing everything I make. Not my style.

And to make matters worse, I don't even know if I WANT to do film anymore. It isn't very practical, if that counts for anything. And it's kind of a self-important thing to major in anyway. Jeez, if I had thought this out before, I could be going to school somewhere different. Somewhere more awesome. But what else would I even do? I've been thinking of doing political science and being a diplomat or something, but does BYU even have a good program? But I still like movies...

So, I'm confused. And I need a job. Really badly. Really really badly.

The road to Damascus

I got a pet about 2 months ago.















I took this Curly-Haired Tarantula off a boy I know who went on a mission. Acting on the suggestion of my sister, Claire, I named her Damascus. I was told that I didn't need to feed her until the end of April. They only eat once a month or so, apparently. So I didn't feed her, but problems arose whenever I attempted to take her out of the tank. She would whack me with her front legs whenever I stuck my hand in there. Partly offensive, partly freakin' scary. After a while, I gave up and accepted the fact that my spider was frigid and high-strung. But lo, miracles do happen. After I finally got around to feeding her, ol' Damascus was as chummy as can be, as evidenced by the picture. So, I guess everything turned out okay. Now if I could only get some real friends...

See What I Mean?

P.S. I don't think I ever gave anyone any of this information

A slight misunderstanding...

I received a package from the good people at Gillette the other day. On the outside of the box it said things like YOUR GAMEFACE NEEDS A NEW RAZOR and YOU'RE 18. YOU'VE GOT GAME. AND NOW YOU'VE GOT A FREE RAZOR. Inside, just as promised, was a free razor, along with some other masculine hygiene products. Which are different than feminine hygiene products, as it turns out.

I'm not complaining (those razors are sweet), but I do run into this issue frequently. Most of my mail is addressed to a Mr. Drew Duncan. The army always sends me two of everything, one for Ms. Mercedes Duncan and one for Mr. Drew Duncan. Dang it, I thought that only my parents and I knew about my hunchbacked twin brother!

Drew! Leave the Schwan's man alone!

I'm fine with it, though. As long as I keep getting free stuff.