Dear Awkwardness,

Remember that time that I was at a friend's house using the bathroom when I discovered that they were out of toilet paper.  And remember how as I was searching through all their cupboards and drawers (grateful that the bathroom was small enough that everything was within reach) that her roommate opened the door (again, I was grateful that the room was small enough that I could push it closed quasi-immediately).  Yeah, that was fun.  Thank goodness for lessons learned in India.

Grateful for handsoap,
Allison

Dear Awkwardness,

What was the deal with all of the roadkill on the road in front of the pet cemetery I drove past on the way to Madison the other day?  Do you have some sort of twisted sense of humor or something?  Well, having learned from recent experience that non-relatives don't appreciate stories about dead pets and animals, at least I know not to bring this up in conversation.

Best,
Allison

Dear Awkwardness,

It's a good thing that our landlords love my roommates and I, but still... If it were just the fact that in the past year the landlords paid for a new fridge (after the chunky milk disaster), hired maintenance to fix our door (which is starting to break again), and covered the cost of fumigation of the apartment (courtesy of the bed bugs) then I wouldn't feel terrible, but that is not all. In addition, this week, our dishwasher completely died and two days later the washing machine followed suit. I'm not too surprised that some of our appliances should have problems because they haven't been replaced in over a decade or since the fire that half burned down the apartment two years ago. (Don't judge. My apartment is actually pretty great...) Having to ask our landlords to pay for all of this is the truly embarrassing part of it all. I'm just glad that they're understanding.

Here's to hoping nothing else breaks down this year,
Rachel

Dear Awkwardness,

I'm not sure where to begin. This whole business with bed bugs has been such an ordeal. I could mention the situation where three guys came over at midnight to take apart my bed while I was in my pajamas. But no, that's not so terrible. However, I could mention the fact that one of these guys tried to move my dresser and ended up spilling my underwear drawer across the room. I could mention my favorite pest control phone call where we tried to understand why no one had showed up for their appointment. Their response, "It was on the schedule but I guess the representative didn't look at it. We're not used to same day consultations." Really? I call to tell you that I just found the hundreds of bugs that I have been sleeping with for the past month and you are telling me to schedule an appointment and live with it for another week?? Or how about the 24 hour pest control hotlines that never answer their phones. But no, these aren't really awkward, they're just frustrating. I suppose my favorite part of this mess is a really awkward guy stopping by because he is bored and wants to use our TV and keyboard. We try to give him hints to go away since we were expecting pest control any minute. After hearing about our bug problem, he turns to me and says, "It all makes sense now! Bed bugs have psychological effects. I'm glad to know that you won't always be grumpy like this." I am really sick of Flagstaff at this moment.

Grrrrr,
Rachel

Dear Awkwardness,

I finally went on a real date after a long dating famine. I did my best to have fun and get to know him even though I'm not attracted to him. I asked him all sorts of questions. After talking about our majors, jobs, friends, family, hometowns, and hobbies I asked him about movies. After talking about movies in general then I asked what his favorite Disney movie was. I figured it was an easy question that could help me get to know him better. His response? "Um... you mean the animated cartoon ones? I can't really think of any. Wait, I know! Old Yeller is Disney right?"

Need I say more?
Rachel

Dear Awkwardness,

I think I've learned my lesson that fish are a lot more trouble than they are worth. When my roommate agreed to fish-sit the neighbors pair of goldfish we all came to learn that they really are smelly, greedy creatures. We even secretly wished they would die, but this morning when one of them actually went belly up we weren't prepared. We got a friend to dump it in the toilet and flush it. Much to our surprise the next time we went to the bathroom a live goldfish was swimming in the toilet bowl! I don't know how it survived a flushing when it was supposedly dead. What can I say? It's a miracle fish. We felt bad about already telling our neighbor the fish was dead. We now felt extremely bad that it resurrected and was living in our toilet, not to mention that the other goldfish was showing signs of depression. We had to do something. So, we decided to go fishing. Our choice of tackle? A plastic spoon, a plastic knife, and a mason jar. It was a nice little fishing adventure that my roommate and I had in our bathroom. In case you're curious, after about half an hour of fishing we did get the fish out alive and returned him to his fellow goldfish. Needless to say, our apartment hates goldfish now, and a toilet does not make a good fishbowl.

Your friend,
Rachel

Dear Awkwardness,

Now, I'm proud of my knowledge-base related to things family-related.  I consider my advanced degree in the family sciences to be wonderful.  And I am glad that people know that about me and consider me as a resource.  However, perhaps next time I'm in an Institute class, we can announce that I'm the resident expert based on my education rather than on life experience before people start saying "Good thing we have Allison here to explain things" or, "you should ask Allison" after introducing difficult-to-address topics.  Because I'm pretty sure that there are a few members of my Family Proclamation Institute class who now wonder if I am homosexual and/or on welfare.  Just for the record, I'm not either of those things.

That is all,
Allison

Dear Awkwardness,

It's been a month since this has happened, but I'm still remembering quite clearly my encounter with you as I got back to school after Spring Break. Next time I decide I need a glass of milk after being gone for two weeks, I would appreciate it if you would warn me to check the expiration date before I chug it. I'm also admiring the timing that our fridge had to break down during that time as well. You might think that I would have noticed the chunks in my milk... but alas. I would never like to taste that "milk" ever again. At least it's good to know that I have a strong stomach, and I'm sure this milk fast has been good for me. I'm going to think twice before ever drinking milk again.

Way to look out for me,

Rachel

Dear Awkwardness,

Good one!  Thanks for being there for me while I taught my last Relief Society lesson in my ward.  But next time I try to abbreviate words while writing on the white board, just leave the word "assistant" alone.  There's no need to abbreviate it to the first three letters...  But I'm sure it was a great way to invite the Spirit.  Oh well, at least I made a lasting impression.

Thanks again,
Nori

Dear Awkwardness,

So, you have taught me an important lesson:  The next time a guest lecturer comes to present in class and distributes handouts to follow along with, I should either 1.) not edit all the typos on his/her handout, or else 2.) make sure that I am not sitting close enough that if he/she didn't have a personal copy that they would ask to use the one I was given.  Thanks for the life lesson.  It was reminescent of when I was in Jr. High and would edit notes given to me from friends...and then didn't have friends.  Memo to self: edit with caution.

Feeling sheepish again,
Allison

Dear Awkwardness,

Thanks for joining me last Saturday.  Let's be honest, I was expecting you to come along for the ride when I picked up that boy from the airport.  I just figured that your role would only be to make the conversation special.  But, as always, you exceeded my expectations.  From now on, whenever I think of going the wrong way on a one way street, I will think of the homeless man flailing his arms over his head to get my attention and then pointing in the opposite direction...and I will think of you.

Thanks for the good times,
Allison

Dear Awkwardness,

I missed you the other day. I got in the practice room elevator with my friend, as we were reluctantly on our way to a voice lesson neither of us wanted to go to. We joked about how it would be great if the elevator would just get stuck so we could have a good reason to miss the lesson. Who knew that it actually would break down? This potentially would be a situation that you would be a part of, but alas you missed out. I'm glad that I got a nice break from life while still being able to use my phone and internet. I could have stayed in there for a few hours and been really productive. It really was a shame that they got us out in only half an hour.

Catch you next time,

Rachel

Dear Awkwardness,

Apparently when I stay up too late it leads to having a less effective bad judgment filter.  And apparently you like to capitalize on those times.  Wasn't it bad enough that I wrote a comment on a course's discussion board that was interpretted in a hurtful way by a classmate?  Was it really necessary for the professor to print out a copy of the exchange and pass it out to the whole class and engage a dialogue about it the following week?  Yikes.  So yeah...no more homework at 1:00 am for me. 

Let's not meet this way again,
Allison

Dear Awkwardness,

I feel that I have a newfound appreciation for the expression "trip at the finish line".  Sure it has nothing to do with a literal finish line, or tripping, but still...I would say that dropping the pan of twelve servings of chicken  and sauce that I was delivering onto the church house kitchen door loosely qualifies.  Also, I love that I'm no longer trusted around chicken and that "I wouldn't want to do an Allison" is becoming a catch phrase among my presidency.

Chicken-less, but feeling sheepish,
Allison

Dear Awkwardness,

The next time my roommate has lots of people over and I try to tell a story, I would appreciate it if my attempts to say "I was in the bathroom getting ready" didn't come out as "I was in the bathroom getting married".  Because, let's be honest, those aren't the same thing.

Still single,
Allison