Intimidation Nation

For those who don’t know, I’m on the job hunt for Fall semester at BYU. I’m keeping my options open, and I’ve found some promising possibilities. Today, while blowing off the dust from my computer files, trying to find a somewhat-updated resume, I found some waaaaaaaaaaaay old applications I had written when I applied to work at the BYU Writing Center, way back when I was pre-mish and innocent and naive and sophomoric. I’m not a big fan of reading things that I wrote way-back-when. I cringe. It happened when I read my application today. ewwwww. Why did they hire me? Obviously, I can’t write. At least not personal statements or resumes. [at least, not then I couldn’t.] Obviously, getting to work at the Writing Center was a miracle.

Then I remembered that they had also asked for samples of my writing. I stumbled across something else I had written my sophomore year at university. Something I had submitted for my work application. It was a research paper I wrote for my lit crit class.

Whoa.

It was dang good. Just sayin’. So that’s why they hired me. I can write a killer research paper. 

Anyway, after reviewing my research papers and resumes and just thinking in general about what has happened in the past 18 months, I have come to a grand conclusion:

I am intimidating.

aka, I scare boys.

aka, forget about getting married anytime soon.    

Forget about beating back the boys with a stick. I’m blinding them by my sheer awesomeness. 

Let’s just look at the facts, shall we?

-Brains. I got ‘em. And I ain’t dumbing down anytime soon. For anyone. Not a threat, just a fact.

-Beauty. Yep. [and this is a blog post for another day, but can we please just talk about how incredibly gorgeous, well-dressed women are some of the scariest creatures in the world? They were some of the hardest people for me to talk with on my mission. They are just intimidating and their aura just screams: don’t bother me, because I am judging you right now, you frumpy little girl.]

-Brawn. I’ve got this confidence now. Don’t mess with me because . . .

-I know Russian. Bam. Which leads me to,

-Um, I’m a returned sister missionary. Do you know how awesome we are? My intimidation/awesome factor went up by 1,455,892 points. What.

-Also, I served a mission in Ukraine. That’s Eastern Europe, people. Right by Russia. In fact, I was practically in Russia. I lived in places worse than the Bronx. Provo, Utah’s got nothing on me. Bring it, Provo. Bring it. [you think this bad neighborhood? watch this. because it is funny. although, pardon his language at the very end.] 

I could go on, but I don’t want to scare you anymore.

Point is, with all this intimidation factoring going on, I’m probably not going to go on any dates this next semester. Oh, well. I’ll just go read Tolstoy.