Bursting My Bubble

BYU students often refer to Provo as “the bubble” since we’re somewhat isolated from the real world. I loved living in Provo, but it’s definitely not the real world. I would often go weeks without hearing someone swear or seeing a girl’s exposed shoulder. That is not the real world. Even though I grew up outside of the bubble I still tend to surround myself with Mormons thus creating my own bubble. A few experiences lately have helped me burst out of my bubble. On an unrelated note, on Friday night my roommate and his girlfriend told me they were going to a poetry reading. Jesse wasn’t excited to go and I agreed that it sounded super-boring. After expressing how I’d rather do almost anything than go to a poetry reading, I added, “However, I think a limerick reading would be awesome.” I’ve decided to write a limerick to go along with each of my bubble bursting experiences.

I have a coworker who lovingly and frequently calls me lazy, cheap, boring, etc. I was texting with her one day and she responded to my text by writing: lmao. When I saw that I thought she had misspelled the word “lame-o” because I could totally see her calling me that. I forgot about it for a few minutes until I suddenly remembered someone telling me that it stood for “laughing my *rear* off.” That made a lot more sense. Here’s limerick about that story:

Lol, g2g, brb,
All of these make sense to me,
But add in a swear word
And I’ll think I misheard
Cursing’s not my cup of tea.

On New Year’s Eve my friend Christian and I went to the YSA dance in Seattle. We were stuck in heavy traffic at 10:00 pm when Christian said, “Wow, look at that girl puke.” I looked at the sidewalk on the left and didn’t see her. I looked to the right and didn’t see her. And then I looked straight ahead and she was puking out of the backseat window of the car right in front of us. She puked a lot and for a long time. When she was done she opened the car door and stumbled into the street obviously quite drunk. She was covered in vomit as was the car door. Another girl got out of the same door to help her friend find her way out of the street. As they walked away the other back door of the car opened up and another girl got out. I quickly saw that that girl was not wearing pants or underwear and appeared to only have a jacket on. Then she just walked off down the street, still not wearing pants. Not the kind of thing you would typically see in Provo. And honestly, not the kind of thing I expected to see in Seattle. Here’s the limerick:

If you’re going to go to a dance
You need to plan in advance
Don’t get drunk before 10:00
Or puke in front of Ben
And always remember your pants.

I went to Starbucks with some coworkers a few weeks ago. I think it was my fifth time ever going to Starbucks. One of my coworkers ordered a tall something-or-other and the other ordered a grande something-or-other. I was very unfamiliar with the names of the different sizes at Starbucks so I said, “Can I get a medium size hot chocolate?” and the cashier said, “A grande?” and I said, “Uh, sure.” My coworker looked at me and said, “Not used to the Seattle lingo yet?” I replied, “Actually, I grew up here.” Somehow I managed to live in the Seattle area for two decades without learning how to order at Starbucks. I have since learned that Starbucks drinks, from smallest to largest, are: short, tall, grande, and venti. And the final limerick:

Should I order a tall or a short?
Will my drink be an ounce or a quart?
I stand here confused
And rather bemused
I need some Starbucks support.

And those are my bubble bursting experiences. Now instead of saying that I’m naïve, I feel like I could confidently say that I’m simply uninformed.