Last night the entire Hill family congregated to watch SDSU cream BYU 31-10. The entire Hill family minus me, that is.
Me, I'm sick with some type of cold and listening to LDS general conference at home in Provo. I really thought it was going to be a 24-hour cold but I'm on hour 43 now and still sniffling.
It all started Friday afternoon when I met up with my friend Seth the bodybuilder, otherwise know as Stud Seth (not to be confused with Uber-stud Seth). Seth and I both served in the same mission, are both from Southern California, and are both the youngest of three kids. The coincidences don't end there, amazingly. He visits Utah like once or twice a year.
So I watched Seth pretty much buy the entire BYU bookstore, and then he watched me eat Tomassitos. After lunch I had Seth show me some ways to improve my gym workout. The squats are still killing me--that punk. It was then that I got that annoying itch in my throat. Not the "wake up in the morning and kill me" sore throat, but the "this sucks but life continues" type. That night we met up with a bunch of friends, and I slept through the new movie "Serenity." My neck started to hurt and my throat worsened, but still I was sure I'd be fine.
Saturday I slept in till noon and then rushed over to the Conference Center with Seth to watch the second session of conference. We got there late and were sure we'd been skunked out of our balcony seat tickets; but if you'll all recall, I am usually lucky when it comes to these kinds of things. I'm not quite sure how, but we ended up being escorted to some amazing floor seats--far closer to the general authorities than our tickets would have had us. What an amazing experience to be so close such holy men.
After the session we wandered around temple square commenting how cool it would be if we ran into someone from the mission. After giving up on the idea we headed for the parking lot through the mall. It was then at an elderly lady stopped us and asked if we spoke Spanish. Of course, we said yes. She then asked us where the phone was. As I pulled out my cell to let her borrow it I got the feeling that I knew this woman. I asked her where she was from and she answered Mexico. I then asked her where in Mexico, and she answered Hidalgo. Our eyes lit up. Turns out she was in Barrio Pachuca when I was serving there in 2001. Hermana Estella Garcia. I was so jazzed that I gave her a big hug. She called her ride, and we said our goodbyes. How things like this keep happening to me--I don't know. I'm sure glad they do though.
We watched priesthood session in the old stadium chapel north of campus. I really liked the talk on taking risks and realizing our potential. It was also good to hear the prophet warn us to be prepared for future tragedy in the aftermath of Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. Both my California and Utah homes are, interestingly, located near major fault lines. This is something I had not thought about before.
At night Anela came over in need of some consoling. Relationships can be so confusing. She sang and played on the guitar a song she'd written for Jimmy. Then we went over to Vermillion Skies to watch The Weak Men. First of all, The Weak Men were excellent. Kind-of a cross between Sigur Ros, Low, and Engine Down. Very sad, yet very beautiful. Secondly, I must admit it was a little strange to be with my broken-hearted friend watching a band who's guitarist had broken the heart of another one of my good friends. It's moments like these that freak me out about relationships.
After the concert we came home and Anela read to me from her book of poems. Though I laughed through many of them, her sincerity and strong personal voice were touching.
Today i woke up late again and feel like doing nothing. I need my health to be better for school to start Monday. While I'm a little sad that I didn't take the opportunity to spend the weekend in San Diego, I'm going to consider this one another one of those lucky happenings. I mean, I'm sure my family will appreciate not going to work tomorrow with a Utah cold.
