The New Girl

Three weeks ago, I moved into a new apartment. Since the ward I moved into has a low turnover rate (people apparently stay here forever) and I moved in during the middle of the summer, people have been rather excited to meet me, which has been fun. I think it's God's way of making up for all the times when I moved in elementary school and middle school and all my new classmates would say, "That's the new girl? Boring!" I'm a fairly normal (okay, you're right, make that outwardly-not-psychotic) girl who goes to school and is active in church, so people in Provo are quite welcoming. Especially all the nerds who consider me one of their own.

Everyone has been nice and wonderful and made me feel right at home. This may be the first year I've moved into a new place and haven't spent the first week feeling all alone and woe-is-me because I'm an insignificant nobody in the sea of perfect Mormons. I feel good. Like I belong here. Like people are actually pleased to have me here. Which is incredibly nice.

However, because I'm me and I'm completely neurotic, I still have problems. There's only one of me, but a bunch of new ward members, so people introduce themselves to me and I forget who they are five minutes later. They remember me because, like I said, the ward seems to be pretty stagnant, so a new face in the middle of the year is newsworthy. I used to be really good at remembering names, but the enormous wave of new acquaintances has shorted out my ability to recognize people. I'll walk by someone and they'll say hi and ask me how I'm doing, and I start to inwardly freak out because I have no idea who they are. Thankfully, I have at least mastered the art of faking it. I'm actually kind of proud of how well I can fake a conversation with someone. You put on a smile, talk in an overly cheery voice, and then ask your roommates who the heck that person was as soon as they leave. I've been doing a lot better though. I can actually recognize people, and I'm even starting to remember names. It's fabulous.

The second problem is something I've mentioned before. When you meet somebody out here, there are only three questions that they ask:
What is your name?
Where are you from?
What do you do?

The first two I understand. If you say you're from a cool place it generates a conversation about what the place is like and stories about other people who have come from that place. Easy way to talk to someone.
The third question continues to irk me. I'm a junior in college and I still can't answer it. Sure, I say "I'm a journalism major at BYU," but people always expect more out of me. They expect me to actually do things, like play soccer or ski or perform at Carnegie Hall. They don't want the truthful answer: "What do I do? Well, um, I cry over fictional characters, I devour teen fantasy books like candy (if I liked candy, that is), I listen to musical soundtracks over and over again, I binge-watch TV shows on Netflix,  and I Wikipedia my favorite celebrities. That's it. That's my life."
You can't actually say that to people! I don't want people to shun me. I really enjoy having friends, as hard as that is to believe. I have a decent social life.
Luckily, even this issue has not turned out to be so terrible. I've completely given up trying to hide who I am, or make myself seem like an ordinary Mormon girl. One of my uncles asked me a few months ago why I couldn't just be normal for once, and the answer is I don't know how, and I don't care to learn. My solution has been to slip little bits of myself into the initial conversation, and then gauge the response of the other person. "Oh, I like to read...mostly young adult books...I love movies...I like doing fun social things..." Sometimes the person will respond by asking whether I've read a book series, or watched a certain movie or TV show, and if I have, then I know we can be friends. Sometimes the other person will say "That's cool" and then slowly drift away, which is fine with me. The system works out pretty well. I briefly considered passing out cards with lists of fandoms (that is, a certain book series, movie series, TV show, or other form of entertainment that develops a cult following) to everyone in the ward saying to check all that apply, but I think natural conversation is probably safer, from a social standpoint.

Still, I wish there were a different set of questions, just to spice things up a little. Life can be so dull sometimes, with everyone talking about the weather and whatnot. What if we asked these questions when we met someone:
What is your Patronus?
Which elemental nation do you identify with?
What is your favorite foreign accent?
Who would be your godly parent, if you were a demigod?
Which new fashion trend bugs you the most?
Which CD could you listen to over and over?
Which movie can you quote the best?
What is your favorite kind of cheesecake?
Which Pixar movie made you cry the most?

I think these questions tell a lot more about a person than "What do you do?" That's so boring. And if you honestly can't answer any of these questions, then you probably aren't reading my blog. Or you're my relatives. But you guys have to love me, so whatever.

Living in the moment until the new girl glow wears off,
Who's that girl?
It's Em!!!
:)