Nasty

but it's that just a strange word. Say it a few times . . . go on!

Nasty

Nasty

Nasty

Nasty

It sounds ridiculous now doesn't it? In econ class today my teacher was talking about how if people acted amoral (like econ is supposed to be) it would create nasty individuals and nasty businesses. Then I just started saying the word nasty in my head. After about 4 times, it no longer sounded like a real word.

Like the word fork . . . or bleachers. (I mean who even comes up with this nonsense?)

On another note, I experienced homelessness for about 50 minutes today. I have decided I do not like it one little bit. After coming home from the gym, I decided that it was high time to take the rapidly decomposing pumpkin that had started to leak some unknown substance all over the ground to the garbage. After finishing the deed, I returned to my front door only to find that it was locked. LOCKED! I was wearing only my gym clothes (shorts, t-shirt, tennis shoes) and luckily a jacket I had decided to put on at the last second. No keys, phone or iPod. In fact, the only thing I had apart from my clothes was my gym pass which was of absolutely no use to me.

First I tried the windows. I have been successful in the past at finding a random unlocked window and crawling through (in a skirt no less) (through the smallest window in the house) (into the bathtub). But no such luck for me today. I was locked out for reals.

Then I decided to sit on the steps. Surely someone would be home soon. Or at the very least some friend would come by and take pity on me. Once again no such luck. Then I started getting cold. It is November in Utah after all. So I got up and started walking around. This didn't really help and I just got colder. To make matters worse, I also started to get hungry.

When I started to feel really homeless was when I finally resorted to standing next to our neighbors laundry vent to keep my legs warm. The warm air that smelled like clean laundry felt really good on my legs that had been exposed to the elements for the past 40 minutes.

It was finally time to go to FHE, and upon my return an hour later I was no longer homeless. The door was thankfully unlocked and I could resume my life as a person with a home.

It felt terrible today to be completely cut off from communicating with people and to not even be able to go inside. Even the laundry room and lounge of my apartment complex are kept locked. I cannot even imagine what it must feel like to spend days, weeks or even moths at a time living like this. My brief, fairly lame experience helped remind me why I want to get an MPA degree, and I reflected on all the good I will hopefully be able to do in the world someday. Being locked out of your house, stranded in Salt Lake City or living in a developing country definitely helps develop empathy in a person. Because to some miniscule degree I understand what people are going through, my desire to help them is increased. I think that is a VERY good thing.

I am officially obsessed: