On Tuesday instead of holding class we were supposed to attend a poetry ready by the famous Australian/Brit poet: Kevin Hart. I thought the reading started at 9am instead of 930 so I was there over a half hour early. I was the first on there and chose a prime spot in the last row in the back left corner. When the poet finally arrived he remarked on how wonderful it must be to walk to class in the morning in the wake of the mountains. He's right. We may not have ivy covered halls, or much green at all, but the mountains are always the picture of hope for me while I am in Utah. I think that is going to be the topic of my essay for the Brimhall contest. More on that to come.
Then tonight I was sitting on the couch, doing some reading for my poetry class when a paper airplane sailed through the room and onto my lap. I picked it up and saw it was a folded up ad from a magazine. I tossed it to the side and continued reading.
Five minutes later another plane lands on my lap. This one is made out of lined paper and says "The USS Poetry" and "To KRISTY Harris" on the outside. On the inside it says
You are so beautiful, Kristy
You are so pretty... like a bee!
Can't you see?
I throw this opened plane on the floor next to the couch and plough ahead in the reading. Another five minutes pass, and another plane lands on my lap. This one says "To: Kersten. From: Everyone but Cami" on the outside. On the inside it says
Roses are red,
violets eat glue
I like red robbins,
but not as much as chu!
I shake my head and turn back to the poem at hand, but am again interupted. This time by a wadded up ball of paper that says "Open me Fool!!" On the inside it says "Wanna watch a movie??"
We are sitting on the couch twenty minutes later, waiting for one of our roommates to come out, "I know," I say "How about I read aloud one of the poems I need to read for class. All aboard the USSR Poetry!"
In other news, this is the picture I had put in the ward directory (and I has to fight for it.):