Women's conference

I have dealt with infestations before: ants, cockroaches, wasps, etc. But none have been as invasive as the women’s conference at BYU this April. I had heard that there was some sort of a conference for women being held on campus but at no point did it enter into my mind that it would be such an inconvenience.

My disdain for the conference at hand began when I was rushing to class early on Thursday morning on my moped. I was very close to being late to my first day of class, but I was not alarmed, I could park right next to the Tanner building you see. I rounded the corner from 800 north onto 150 east near the IPF when, much to my chagrin, I was met with a police blockade disallowing any further passage. I couldn’t believe it. I hastily parked my scooter and had to walk for what seemed miles and only barely made it to my class (this class in fact). It was later that day that I realized it was the women’s conference that caused my unnecessary, nearly a mile walk to class.

It continued that day when after class I needed to buy a small 70 page spiral notebook at the bookstore. Little did I know I would be sacrificing several minutes of breathing time to do so. I walked into the bookstore and squeezed my way through a sea of married women looking at tote bags, food storage, and waiting for Hillary Weeks to sign her latest CD. After pushing my way through the middle aged, estrogen filled crowd, and finally secured the single notebook I needed, I had to wait in line behind five (or was it fifty) babbling women to buy it.

My impatience for the whole darned conference reached a violent peak on Friday afternoon. I was rushing to the airport to fly home to my niece’s baptism. I was in the car and I swooped around north of campus hoping to get on University Parkway by the Marriott Center. I turn a corner and BAM! More cars in parking lot fashion traffic than I had ever seen for leaving after a Jimmerific basketball game. No one was moving. There were police there to guide the traffic for crying out loud. Not that it helped. I bailed and went to another road hoping the women hadn’t yet taken it over too. I was disappointed. They had completely covered that street as well! No escaping. And my plane! I was going to be late. Words can hardly describe the anger that began to build up in me.

All I can say is I didn’t relax until I was in another state. And if the conference is still going on when I return, you can bet that I will not be coming out of my apartment until it is over.