In Which Miss Jill Explains Why She is Not Hip

1. I didn't know who Lady Gaga was until April.
2. When someone says, "That pizza looks sick," I don't know if that is a good or bad thing.
3. I think that leggings are the most hideous thing ever.
4. I went to a party last year and I didn't recognize any of the music (all top 40) that was playing.
5. When I use slang it has a comedic effect.
6. When I go to movies, the closest person to my age is at least 50.
7. When I want to use a Facebook function, I have to ask how to use it in my Facebook status so that a teen will answer.
8. When I see huge flower headbands, I want to grab them and throw them onto the subway tracks. Especially on people over 30. I hate when leathery, overtanned skin is framed with flowers.
9. Someone said that I shopped at Coldwater Creek.
10. I am trying to get someone to give me a discount on a face cream designed for 60 year olds.

People Who Are Less Hip Than Me
A few weeks ago, I was seated across from a group of Chinese nerds (I am not saying Chinese people are nerds, just that these particular ones were). They were heatedly talking about video games, and I wrote down some of it, because I knew that I wouldn't be able to make up a convo about video games on my own.

"You got owned by a shotgun."
"Shut up, I used a rocket launcher."
"On Tuesday I will buy a firefighter."
"I try to move like a ninja."
"Did I show you my cloak?"
"There is this one godly sniper. You have to use it underground."
"All of the Hazabis are infected."

None of this is funny, but it proves my point that they are nerds. I don't even know what any of this means. So, midconvo, they suddenly stop and stare transfixed through the subway window. They point and laugh and one of them started writing something down. As I was already eavesdropping on them, it only seemed right to find out what they were looking at:

In Which America Loses the Cold War Over My Face

The confusion began when I started working a heavily Russian neighborhood in Brooklyn. I stopped in a grocery store after work one day to buy something and the cashier said, "ASDFBADAFASDKFLJLAKSDJASKLDFJ." I looked confused and she repeated, ASDFBADAFASDKFLJLAKSDJASKLDFJ." I responded, "WHAT??" Only then did she realize that I did not speak Russian and told me the total for my order.

Almost every time I am on a bus, someone asks me for directions in Russian. Somehow this issue came up in my ninth grade class yesterday and I said, "I don't look Russian, why is this happening." There are two news girls in the class from Tajikistan and one shyly said, "Sorry, but there are lots of Russians in Tajikistan and you look like them." Then the Uzbeki girl who I have only heard talk once said, "Uh huh... Miss, you look very Russian."

As far as I know (and I am Mormon, so I actually know), I am not even a little bit Russian. I am not offended, just confused and a little disloyal to Reagan, my favorite president. Does anyone else constantly get confused for someone from a different ethnicity or nationality?

In other news, the school secretary told me this morning that one of the fifth graders gave herself a middle name. Her middle name is now "Miss Jill." So if her name were Sara Jones, her new name would be Sara Miss Jill Jones.

Taxonomy of Random BYU Students (Part One)

Once in a while I see NYU students and feel a twinge of regret. Their college experience seems so urbane, so sophisticated, while mine was overshadowed by earnest people singing religious songs in a tunnel and girls making brownies to entrap future husbands. However, my misgivings quickly turn to relief when I remember that I have never had to receive a student loan (thanks Dad).

I went to BYU a few weeks ago to drop off my little sister and it wasn't the traumatic experience that I had thought that it would be. This led me to reminisce about some of the characters that I met at BYU:

Disclaimer-There are lots of nice and normal people at BYU. I just see no purpose in discussing them on this blog.

Recently Returned R.M.s- “When asked to read out loud in Sunday School class, this individual proudly boasts, “Sorry, I only have the Book of Mormon in Tagalog.” Can be identified by a foreign soccer jersey or flag patch on backpack.

People Who Are Judgmental About Rated-R Movies While Secretly Living Rated-R Lives

Ugly Herb Guy With Hot Foreign Wife- This reality came crashing down on me, because every time a hot Latina in my Spanish classes showed me a picture of her husband, I got confused and thought that I was looking at Orville Redenbacher or Paul Pfeiffer (no, he did not grow up to be Marilyn Manson, that is a rumor).

The One Girl in Your Ward Who Wears Sleeveless Shirts to Church and Everyone Secretly Judges (including Miss Jill circa 2001, I admit it)

Twenty-two and Twenty-three year old Spinsters- “Yeah, it’s harder for girls like me to get married, because men are so intimidated by how talented I am.” Their mortal enemies are blond, nubile teens (especially beauty school girls). If they are still single in their late twenties, these girls constantly say, “It makes me mad that there are so many awesome girls in this ward and none of them date. Mormon guys are so stupid.” I always check out of this conversation at the word “awesome.”

People Who Say Long Public Prayers Over Their Taco Bell Meal

Anachronistic Arms Wielders- Mastery of the crossbow may be more attainable than you think. The medieval club is one of the most talked about organizations on campus, because many members walk around campus in traditional clothing and hold jousting and sword competitions on the lawn. I once received a desperate text that stated, “I am in religion class and the person next to me is wearing chain mail. What do I do?”

People Who Knit in Class

Hardcore People Who Say “H@ll” (but the real word)


Men Who Loudly Reference “My Wife” Every Five Minutes Just To Make Sure That You Know That They Are Married- I.e., “Wow! My wife made such a delicious sandwich.”

The Twenty-Seven-Year-Old Guy In The Ward Who All The Girls Think Is Old and Creepy- Hmmm.. I never imagined that that would sound young to me..

The Revolutionaries- These people are generally in the Humanities Department, wear strange combinations of fabrics or ironic tees and often have the greasy, matted hair of a person on a camping trip. They are idealists who somehow are never disabused of the notion that mass protests and petitions can cause systemic change at BYU. If wearing a Che shirt, there is a 98.9 percent chance that he/she knows next to nothing about him or his ideology. For a short time after I went to Cuba, I tried to engage these Che aficionados in conversations, but was often on the receiving end of blank stares.



To be continued..............................

Lament of an Eternal Four Eyes

I don't think that anyone is holding onto any illusions about the integrity of Illinois politicians. With one former governor in the slammer and one probably on his way, it should come as no surprise that some of this corruption trickled down.

I have mediocre vision, but I refused to wear glasses for several years (I wonder what Honduras really looks like). In some places, vision problems would be an impediment to obtaining a driver's license but luckily not under Blagojevich's watch. My vision test sounded like this-

Miss Jill: O?
Polish Teen DMV Worker: Umm, no, try again.
Miss Jill: U?
Polish Teen DMV Worker: Nope.
Miss Jill: D?
Polish Teen DMV Worker: Keep trying
Miss Jill: Q?
Polish Teen DMV Worker: Passed

I did eventually succumb to getting glasses, but I hate them and take them off at every opportunity. I finally decided that, in light of my rapidly approaching 30th birthday, it might be time to try contacts. Last year one of the senior boys informed me that they had been discussing my glasses and had come to the consensus that they had to go. I thought that if my baby brother could do it, so could I. Wrong.

It took me at least a half hour to get them in the first time and I was feeling the pressure. The workers kept talking to each other in Yiddish, which made me think that they were mocking my eyeball touching incompetence. I got marginally better at it, but my weakness is taking them out. I spent two hours last night alternating between trying to touch my eyeball and complaining about the state of affairs on gchat/Facebook chat. My student talked me through it, but her instructions were interspersed with stories about how her contact got lost in her eyeball for three days, etc. Am I the only one with this phobia?

In Which Miss Jill Shares Hard Earned Economic Advice Part 3 (I think)

I went to the laundromat this morning and as I was sitting there, a woman and her teenage daughter (17 or 18) entered. The daughter begged her mother for $5 and the mother refused. The daughter walked a few feet away and started crazily waving her arms and stomping her feet. The mother responded, "@#$@#$@#$!#@%!@#$!@#$!@#$." Then the daughter stood in the door and started yelling at passerby, "Hey, any of you all have five dollars?" The mother got fed up and gave her the money.

Examining The Altruistic Tendencies of New Yorkers

Last night a Turkish woman told me that she liked that New Yorkers always offer to help her with her stroller on the subway. I recently had to lug a massive suitcase to LaGuardia (not by my house, but Delta was offering triple miles to use the shuttle service) and I paid attention to who offered to help (I am not a light packer). The only one that surprised me was a 100lb girl who offered to grab an end. As I often carry stuff that is too heavy for me, I have noticed some trends.

Who Will Help You By Demographic
Latino Men: 100% I actually sped up so that I would reach the stairs at the same time as one.
White Hipsters: 0% They will usually look at your epic struggle and then keep walking. This is no loss because they appear to be about as strong as I am.
White Men in General: About 60%. I think if I were a nineteen-year-old model this figure would be higher. This percentage raises for each mile they were born away from the U.S. Likelihood to help also rises if they are with a girl that they want to impress.
Black Men: Near 100%. Their weight threshold for hotness is higher.
Chinese: Not sure. One guy helped me unprompted and another guy helped me after he passed me and I called him a name under my breath.

I am not sure what these figures mean, besides that hipsters are a scourge and that we should all join the Hasidic Jews in eradicating them from Brooklyn. My Turkish students took a test prep class over the summer and this was how they described their instructor: "He should be wearing size medium pants, but instead he wears size extra-small." She flipped open her camera and showed me a picture of a young man with greasy, unwashed hair smashed against his forehead and confirmed my worst nightmare: my students were in the clutches of a hipster.