To put it mildly, I'm overwhelmed and completely exhausted. I hope I can catch up on sleep a little bit before my job starts on Tuesday. I got to see the house I'll be living in yesterday. It's very cute and most definitely not in Mapleton. Not even close actually. It is most certainly in Springville. And as for the description "it is surrounded by farm land..." Well, sort of. Utah (especially Utah County) is not zoned as nicely as Virginia. So there's a big old horse farm on 2 sides of the duplex. A gigantic neighborhood stretching off the third way. And well, the view from the fourth side is of a strip mall and Wal-Mart.
I keep telling myself I won't make a list of ways Utah is different from Virginia. I have to accept this place as home and not focus on the differences. But well, this story is so deserving of mocking that I have to share it.
I ran into the W*Mart to pick up a few items. While some people (aka my sister) had described Springville as no longer redneck and more yuppie now, apparently the people who frequent this W*Mart didn't get that message. It was seriously redneck. In the cereal aisle there was a young (and by young I mean 17-19 yrs old) couple in rather wannabe punk attire. They did have the necessary number of piercings to look foreboding, and he had dark smudged eye liner on. Making them stand out even more was the very pink and feminine stroller they had that clashed with their baggy and studded clothing. There was a baby blanket hanging over the opening, so I couldn't see if the baby was also dressed in leather and ripped tees. They were bickering loudly about money and how many boxes of cereal to buy. The conversation proceeded like this-
Him: I don't get you, woman. What's wrong with you? It's good stuff.
Her: It smells gross. What's wrong with you? I don't get you either.
(I roll my eyes at the attempted insult.)
Him: You're so dumb. Why do you do that?
(I consider intervening and telling her she deserves a better life and hair care products.)
Her: I'm not doing anything. I just think we should get something more healthy and good for you.
He grumbles on as I attempt to manuever pass them to get to the oatmeal.
Him (to her, not me): Oatmeal? Oh that's so gross. You are so dumb.
Her: I am not.
Him: Then why are you pushing that stupid stroller around?
Her: Because I want to practice for when the baby comes. It's called good mommying.
(Sure enough, I turn to get a better look. She's most definitely pregnant.)
Him: You are so dumb woman. No one practices that.
Her: The doctor says I should start practicing!
Him: We're not getting oatmeal.
(I leave still contemplating telling this girl-woman about shelters that help women and children.)
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