I realized today, the reason that I will never and can never get married while I am in school.
Tonight, after many (not that many) laborious hours in the library, I finished my 10-12 page paper for my African history class. When I printed that piece of joy and stapled it together, I realized that I have never, and probably will never love a man as much as I love that paper.
I looked at it longingly, checking my bag every so often to see if it was still there. I read and re-read its words over and over like poetry. I stared at its clean 11-point serif font with attractive footnotes at the bottom of the page and realized I was in love. Where else am I going to find that kind of love? The kind of love you blog about? The last person I blogged about was Old Man Winter (actually, another good candidate of things I might love more than potential or future mates... there I said it).
So world, if you want me to leave BYU-Idaho betrothed, my qualifications are this: 8 1/2 X 11 inches/ gender: questionable/white/Chicago-style citations. That's all I ask.