Every girl dreams of growing up and living a fairy tale life. In the mind of every five year old, she truly believes she will grow up, become a princess, have beautiful flowing hair, wear amazing designer ball gowns (ok maybe the designer part is an adaptation as i have grown up), speak squirrel/have forest animal friends, meet a handsome prince (not to mention usually silent-have you ever noticed this? coincidence? I think not. I am convinced half of my relationships would have lasted much longer if he'd just kept his mouth shut more often-except, of course, when singing about how much he adores me), live in a mansion, and live happily ever after.
Upon entering my new apartment this fall I stumbled upon this little trinket of furniture...Someone please explain to me what this is? Joscelyn walked in my room shortly after arriving and asked me, "Maggie..what is that?" I thought for a short time before a childhood memory came to me and horror flashed across my face. I responded, "I'm not entirely sure of its name...but I'm almost certain that if I use it...Rumpelstiltsken will come after me!" Don't remember that story? Here's a refresher course.
I find myself currious as I begin to think about what he must be like. Will I be breaking honor code if he lives here? But I feel like the possibility of a medeival dwarf dwelling in my apartment is kinda rad.
-"Maggie is that a hairless dog or just an oversized rat?"
-"Oh neither, just Rumpelstiltsken my house gnome. Sometimes we dress him up for seasons you know? like Christmas time we'll probably put him out on our balcony as a midget Santa or something. During Halloween we like to dress him up as a miniature Satan and he growls at little kids and chases them around the block. Then he brings back their candy...and it's a smorgasbord for the next three weeks. He's funny like that. Every so often he cleans my room and does my homework for me too. We're pretty much besties. I think next week I might get him a cute little pink cable knit sweater from J.Crew and carry him around in my purse. We try to coordinate outfits as much as possible."
My daydreaming is cut short, however, as I arrive to purchase my accounting books later that week. I think back to 4 months prior...when I was returning my old accounting books. I should rephrase that. I wasn't returning my books...I was dragging my books to the bookstore so they could tell me they'd "Filled their quota on THAT ONE!" oh and "THAT ONE"...but..."Here's a fun-size Snickers bar with a thick chocolate coating to line your esophagus as you try to swallow the fact that four months ago you didn't purchase text books...you purchased the most expensive snickers bar of your life. And now you're out $400...but you get to keep your outdated Finance book! (enter cheesy, neck straining smile of fake tanned, bump-it haired, bad bottle blonde, bookstore employee here)" I love BYU!
I walk the long long isles of the bookstore and the glean off the lenolium flooring is making me nauseated. I grab my books and head to get in line. As I approach the counter, each beep from the scanner feels like a stab wound. Afforementioned bookstore employee (who I've missed so much this entire summer) perks up and says, "That'll be $524.93!" I'm not sure...but I think Rumpelstiltsken is a Manager at the book store because I swear she just asked me to sign away my first born son! What has happened to BYU? No wonder they want everyone here to get married? Maybe if I don't get married until I live far, far away, Rumpy will never come to collect. I pay for my books and drag my books out of the bookstore.
As I leave I find I have a new found resolve to never get married at BYU...
....and two pens I stole out of the cup holder after signing my receipt.