Estrogen Fest. I mean...Women's Conference.

Anyone who knows me has come to the understanding that I just don't prefer Women's Conference. For those who are unfamiliar with the event, I'll explain. Women's Conference is a 2-day event held at Brigham Young University at the very beginning of summer. Women from all over the country (I'm hesitant to say world, although it's very likely to be the case) come to P-town and live in the dorms for two days, take uplifting and inspiring classes to boost their spiritual morale, and spend excessive amounts of money at the BYU Bookstore. The last aspect is what I despise. The classes are fabulous! I'm glad these women have a chance to leave their kids at home with Dad for a change and take a little time for themselves. But is it really necessary to:

a. Stand, completely unmoving, in every designated walkway throughout the Bookstore?
b. Purchase 5 3-pound bags of chocolate covered cinnamon bears in one transaction? (Fun Fact: Each year the Bookstore sells, on average, 3.5 tons of chocolate covered cinnamon bears during the two days of Women's Conference alone. Oh boy.)
c. Yell "Hey Lady!!" in order to get the attention of a polite, unsuspecting cashier who has done absolutely nothing wrong?
d. Put all of your purchases on the counter, then put your bags, coats, and other possessions on top of them, ergo leaving the cashier without access to the things that need to be rung up?
e. Take 5 minutes digging through your purse for exact change, but then giving up and just using the credit card in the end, especially when there is a line approximately two miles long trailing behind you?

I'm grateful for the hours/pay that Women's Conference provides. I'm grateful these women have this opportunity. I'm grateful for the wonderful institution of BYU that puts on this great conference of spiritual and emotional uplifting.

But sometimes I think the women of Women's Conference leave their brains at home, and that is just not fair to the rest of us.