I'm moving.

You know how you've always heard of the cities with the weirdo and completely ridiculous laws. Well my friends, I now live in one. It is a law of Rexburg that you cannot throw snowballs. Yes you did read that correctly. Those flirtatious, fun, white fluffy things are not aloud at all. Thus I’ve concluded that I am moving.

Now, you might think that this law is quite odd, completely ridiculous, and entirely impossible to comply with considering the amounts of snow that come to this part of the world. Well, you're right. Let me just help you understand how hard it is uphold this law.

Last Thursday after a very long wet and rainy day. Sarah and I had just finished a meeting for our major program and were beginning the trek home. Upon stepping out the door of the Hinckley we found ourselves in a slush storm. The ground all around us was streaming on the sidewalks, but the grass had managed to be coated in this icy stuff. I popped up my bright red umbrella (doesn't that make it more fun, red :D) and we began walking towards our humble abode.

Upon reaching the round about we saw a group of young men coming towards us truly enjoying this slush stuff on the ground. They were picking up a handful and molding it into something much like a snowball, but because it's slush I guess it's not illegal (actually I have now idea about that, I’ll look into it) and commenced in throwing it at each other.

At this point we are crossing the street, and they are walking the other way and pass us toward where we just came from. I was just making a comment to Sarah about how attractive one of the individuals had been when THWACK! Quickly followed by a yelp and ice running down my back. Yes my friends. I had been the victim of a slush ball. This was war I thought and quickly turned around to find my attacker. Alas, I could find no one, not a soul looking at me. I still have no idea who it was that got me. You know it's too bad too, because little do they know what a great friend they missed out on making. Granted I would have chased them down and tried to whitewash them. But right after we were even I would have told them-- 10 points for having the perfect aim. Yes, perfect aim, I forgot to mention before where it was that I had been hit. My dear friends, this mysterious individual hit me smack dab in the middle of my neck, in between an opening underneath my umbrella and my backpack that was about 7 inches. That takes talent. I would have liked to congratulate them. Alas, that will have to wait for another day though.

Anyways, moral of the story, I’m not moving, but I am looking forward to a "mysterious" snowball filled winter :)