story time: don't leave your phone at a house full of monsters.

two years at byu i had the good fortune/pained struggle of living across the parking lot from "the honky tonk."  this was the nick name for a gorgeous brick house that was zoned for 4 boys on the top floor and 3 in the basement, but these boys were law unto themselves and remorselessly stashed no fewer than 15 tenants in that house at all times.  they were all from arizona, like 90% of BYU, or alaska, like 0% of BYU.  one of my best friends was engaged to a member of the honkey tonk, and we were all good friends.  most of the time. 

one sunday evening we'd all been shootin the breeze, and when i left to go back home, i forgot my cell phone.  hours later i realized my oversight and went back to retrieve my little gem of technology.  i had about 15 missed calls and text messages, and they just kept comin.  

"are you ok?" 

"i'm in the middle of dinner, i'll call you in a bit."

"oh!  so good to hear from you again!"

and so on.  i was a bit confused, so i looked in my SENT MESSAGES box and some impudent scally-wag (cough cough ryan darby) had sent to everyone, and i do mean EVERYONE in my phonebook, 

"call me.  i miss you."

this was especially wonderful, because in my phonebook lay numbers for people such as my bishop, my best friend's dad, boys i'd dated, blind date nightmares, boyfriends and husbands of friends and cousins, etc.  it was a treat, a real treat over the next 24 hours to see what reactions this text message provoked.  

it's ok though, because the next week we put fliers over every door in the ward saying,

"coming into the light by coming out of the closet.

you're invited to a candid fireside by ryan darby about his experience as a gay mormon."