Tuesday, June 26, 2012

The day Chelsea suddenly had 20-year-old quintuplets

Once upon a time last week I was having the worst day. I had pulled an all-nighter the night before and I was just plain desausted. My hairs looked 'orrible as did my face, and I found myself nodding off in Lamoreaux's class many times.

And yes, he did notice. What is: the opposite of brownie points? (Jeopardy moment. Just go with it.) This is what I saw in my brief moments of consciousness....

I am ashamed. Anyway.

All that I wanted was to be able to take an hourish-long nap after Foreign Gov't and before my Understanding DNA presentation, and as soon as class was over I marched with this purpose toward the Taylor.

The Hinckley chapel, I had discovered earlier, was occupied by some presentation. Normally I would be quite disheartened by this information, but I was too tired to focus on the injustice of it all and instead, shook it off and continued on my quest for a nice, quiet, secluded pew.

I smiled in sleepy anticipation as I approached the Taylor building. The Taylor chapel had always been a very nice sanctuary for me. I would go there at least three times a week during the Winter semester and just nap to my heart's content. I was very much looking forward to its peace and quiet. I reached the door and opened it with gusto. I was seconds away from sleep! I turned to walk into the chapel....

....and then turned right back around. Because guess the freak what guys? There, on the very pew where I was to lay my tired head, was the butt of some business student.

Oh and over there too.
And there.
And there.

And in that corner as well.

Just like that.

As I turned to go I bumped into several business students. They looked at me, trying to figure out why I was going against the grain. They took in my cute but hastily put-together outfit that, okay, didn't quite match. They saw my tired, forlorn expression as I plodded sadly away and realized that my purpose for going there had been disappointed. They gave me a look of superior pity. Much like this....

And I was like, BITE ME.

Tears blurred my vision as I hopelessly stumbled out into the intense heat of the day. All around me were business students. Some of them smiled at me, all too cheerful to be stomping, quite literally, all over my dreams. I saw right through their whitened smiles and bright, friendly eyes. They knew ex-actly what they were doing. They walked into my chapel, sat down on my pew, ruined the sanctity of MY NAP PLACE.

I hurried away from the horrible scene as fast as my half-conscious legs could carry me. I had been texting Chelsea at the time (she had just seen the ginger Rexburg Rapper. It was a great moment for all), so I accordingly sent her a very distressed message about my pitiful situation. She texted back that I should go and sleep at the Crossroads, but I was already on my way because I stalk Chelsea on a regular basis and knew she was most likely to be there.

I found her and flung myself down on the couch next to her. "He-ey," Chelsea said gently, giving me a look of utmost sympathy.

"Oh! My liiife," I moaned in the most dramatic fashion. Chelsea listened as I ranted about all the dumb people who were taking over my bed(s). She patted my arm and nodded her head many times and said things like, "yeah what the french toast hockey sticks?!"

and "why the why couldn't they have had the meeting somewhere else?"

and "you are much more important than them!"

As I threw my head down and said things like, "all that I have ever wanted....all that I have ever even wanted at all in this life is to take a nap in the Taylor chapel!"

and "I feel personally attacked by this. I just knoww they planned it to ruin my life in such a fashion!"

and "How DARE they do this to me! Oh-hh!"

....I will take this moment to say that I honestly have no idea if she or I actually said those things because I was prettymuch braindead anddd I just don't bemember. Also, I am aware how dramatic this is. Whatever.


So then she was like, "Well, why don't you just take a nappy-poo here?" She patted the couch excitedly. "Yeah! Take a nappy-poo here!" I smiled broadly at her creativity and obediently thunked my head down on the table. I frowned. This was soo not comfortable. I shifted. And twisted. And did a couple cartwheels and backflips but nothing ever worked and I was just uncomfortable and put-out. This is what I looked like....

Or like this....

Seeing my sad state, Chelsea asked kindly, "would you like me to sing you some lullabies?" Of course that is precisely my heart's truest desire! Chelsea has the most best singing voice to me, and I just love hearing her sing. This is actually quite monumental, if you must know. I usually hate when people around me sing. I actually texted Chelsea about this very thing today! This so-annoying girl was sitting next to me in the crossroads and she kept humming in that obnoxious way that you're like, okay what the crap there is a bee in my ear. 'Scuse you stop it now or have your vocal cords removed.


So then Chelsea sang me the most lovely lullaby that she sings to her nephew! I happily snuggled into the couch and drifted off into dreamworld.... ....for all of six seconds. I was in that weird place between consciousness and sleep that you only ever become aware of if you are suddenly jerked from it. Which I was. I heard sniffling and sat up in a slightly grumpy, very confused daze. You'd best believe I looked like this....

I looked over and saw one of my friends sitting on the other side of Chelsea, who had abandoned her singing for soothing words and consoling pats. This friend was crying because something bad had happened to her. Chelsea fixed her right up, saying all the right things and listening in the best way. Sad friend was beginning to calm down when Kaylie (who looks like this all the time....


approached the table. "Chelsea," she said urgently. "I don't know what's due for Understanding DNA!" Sad friend scooched down the bench and sat next to me, where we both pitied ourselves and tried to help the other, all the while waiting for Chelsea to come and fix our pathetic selves again.

Chelsea helped Kaylie figure out what was due and then sent her on down the bench to get to work because by this time, you guessed it- ahNUTHER (I know how to spell "another" correctly. Please calm down.) girl came up, begging assistance from the only person in the universe who could make anything okay on that fateful Friday- our dear Chelsea-poo. I think this girl needed help with anatomy. By this time Kaylie, Sad friend, and I were spread out quite nicely on the couch bench, so Chelsea and the other girl moved to a table behind us to get to work. Sad friend and I began to work on a math project that I had while we waited for our mother Chelsea to return. We separated M+Ms by color and counted them. I don't even want to talk about it.

Oh except for that I shared with this group of random strangers later that day and then accidentally left all my M+Ms. Even the peanut ones. And I was sore depressed.


This menial task improved our moods significantly, and we even had a photoshoot with Kaylie, bc what else were we supposed to do? And I would like to say that now Kaylie's prof pic is one of her and I from that photoshoot and I am pleased as punch about this because I truly and really love Kaylie. She is one of my very favorites!

This is the one! Hiiiiiii Kaylie :) But anyway.

All this work and photography took up the remainder of the space, and by the time Chelsea came back to deal with her own problems (homework), her textbooks and pens and things had been shoved to the very farthest corner. She gazed upon the spot she had picked out with a sad resignation and I put myself in her (very fashionable and cute) shoes.

I imagined her a mere hour earlier arriving at the Crossroads, bright, happy, and chipper. She had a lot to get done, and she wanted to be comfortable. She had spotted a relatively uncrowded area and settled into the soft, cushy bench. She had made sure there was lots of table space for her textbooks and flashcards and taplop. She began to quietly pound anatomy terms into her head, stopping every once in awhile to gaze with pride at her carefully organized space.


She was being very productive, occasionally texting her friend Nicole, who was in her Foreign Gov't class and tired as crap. When Nicole had showed up, she expected the girl to just fall asleep, no biggie. But the situation had quickly spiraled out of control. Suddenly she was quite busy, burping (patting soothingly) and feeding (building up the self-esteem of) and potty-training (dealing with the leaky faucets of) 20-year-old girl quintuplets that she hadn't even known she'd had.

In the course of ten minutes her peaceful study time had turned into a marathon therapy session. And now her beautiful spot was ruined, filled with children all in need of her assistance and pity. The poor things simply could not get along without her, that much was clear. They needed their mothers, and Chelsea, with her fabulously chosen outfit, was the closest thing.

I looked sadly upon her, realizing I could relate. My spot had been rudely yanked out of my hands just that morning. I opened my mouth to say that we would all scooch down, but Chelsea just sighed and said, "I am every single person here's mother." We, her children, looked up and down the row at the lot of us and nodded solemnly.

"I helped all of you," The nodding became more intense except for mine. All that jostling around was giving me a headache. Chelsea handed me some ibuprofen. No she didn't.

"And now," She continued. "Nowww there is no room on the soft seats, so I am going to sit on one of the hard seats." We all opened our mouths to protest but Chelsea held up her hand and said above the cries of her quintuplets, "Because that, thattt is what you do when you are the mother." And then she grabbed her notebook and pen and plopped down on the other side of the table, on the cold, hard chair.


And that is why Chelsea is the youngest person I know to have quintuplets, because even though there was only four of us that I counted, I am very positive that we are not the only pitiful human beings she mothered that day. Chelsea is just the best, and I love her so. And if you had such a friend, wouldn't you blog about it too?


Oh wait. Actually....

But umm really.

Oh. Anddd I would like to make a disclaimer right now:: This may or may not be an accurate portrayal of all that went down that lovely day. You figure it out.

The End.

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