2 Days Of Copy and Paste.

THE DAY: April 26th, 2007.
THE TIME: Floating between time zones.
THE MUSIC: None. But the fake AC is buzzing.
WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING: Maybe sleeping, but I dont mind.

I'm flying home. Big Microsoft word nerd, typing away on my “seat-back tray.” School is over for four months. They sky is kinda tossing us around. I hate the word turbulence, it reeks of obstruction, as if we have some kind of right to fly smoothly up here. I don't think we really do; we don't belong here. I don't think birds experience turbulence. Mostly because I don't think they consider it anything of consequence, it's just part of their world, a space they were made for. We're above the clouds now though, and even though we're out of place up here in this metallic human machine, I think sometimes we need to see the sky from this perspective... just to wake us up a little.
I'm realizing that I brought 130 pounds of stuff home in two suitcases... and that to fit all of that in the doll house would deny the laws of physics. Speaking of, I recently realized my tendency to date engineering majors. Weird.
I miss home. I can't remember how it feels... which overloads me with a sense of guilt and exhaustion.
Ben and Ken, if you're reading this, I miss you guys right inside of this moment.
I'm trying to think of all the things I want to do when I get home.
On my way there, I will lose two hours. Is that allowed? How can time escape me so outwardly? Shouldn't I get two more hours at least? I shouldn't get anything really, because if I did I would probably spend it sleeping, a decision that would hold no honor or valor whatsoever.
I have slept 4 of the past 48 hours. I left Utah in a blur. Finals. Pack up. Clean. Move out. ... say goodbye. The hardest part was Ben and Ken. (hey again guys!) I was also realizing while we were driving away, that something is different. Usually I love the people I'm surrounded by, and not necessarily the place. I don't become rooted in geographical things. Not anymore. As much as I make fun of it, I've been swallowed up by the mountains and distant city lights of Provo. I had to convince my mind and memory to come with me back to North Carolina.

I dyed my hair before I came home. Kinda darker. This always comes with a slight sense that I am lying. Why do I do that? Am I trying to hide something? To appear more new than I am? Why am I not satisfied with myself in a fully natural state? Why do I think so much? I do this, grudgingly question things until they're all upside down and ejecting their insides... I had actually stopped for a while. I have yet to decide if this is a good habit or not, though I do know that it is me. And for that reason I love feeling it come back to me, especially now that the sun is back. I feel like I am finding myself on accident.

THE DAY: April 27th, 2007
THE TIME: 11: 15ish PM
THE MUSIC: Passing Afternoon By Iron & Wine.
WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING: Unpacking.

Today I was playing with Bradley. All day he kept saying I was his best friend in the whole wide world. It really calmed me down, if that makes sense. Something about playing with kids, they don't understand much, it has a way of silencing my urge to understand. He kept asking me where I had been, and if I wanted to go play at his house. It baffles me the way this 3 year old boy can ask me questions for which no explanation would suffice. How do I tell him about where I have been? How do I explain that my home is still here? I can't even explain those things to myself some days.
Later in my room the screen saver came up on my laptop. It's set to do a slide show of all my pictures. He got pretty excited and stopped playing to go plop down and watch it. He kept asking me who everyone was. Three pictures of me and Katie last summer came up right in a row and I missed her really deep down. Its so odd to be home when she isn't.
Then there was one of me and Zach. I didn't say anything. But he knew. He said
“Thats my best friend in the whole wide world! He used to sit up in the big chair at the pool and play with us.”
“He can't be your best friend in the whole wide world.”
“Why not...”
“Because he's my best friend in the whole wide world.”
“Can he play with you AND me? Is he coming over... I want to see Zach tonight.

Me too.

My silenced urge to understand, began to scream.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

This place really is a flood of unspoken words. I'm so displaced by unsettled things and it makes me very anxious...like this town is one size fits all.

Come sister, my brother

Shake up your bones, shake up your feet

I'm saying open up And let the rain come pouring in

Wash out this tired notion

That the best is yet to come

But while you're dancing on the ground

Don't think of when you're gone

-- Pig. By Dave Matthews.

Luggage ShmucKage.

THE DAY: April 24th 2007
THE TIME: 1:56 AM
THE MUSIC: "West Coast" By Coconut Records
WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING: A kaZillion things that matter less.


Its 2 in the mornin'.
I think there's something about the night time that changes people.
I've been sorting through all my things... just to make empty spaces out of full ones. I hate packing.
I've been doing this all night in my surfboard pajama pants, I love them... this is weird because they used to belong to a boy I dont talk to or think about anymore. Anyway, I was plopped down indian style in my sweet pants on my ick.awesome DT carpet. I found some one else's fingernail polish under the bed. Its kind of a brown color. (I hate referring to colors as “neutral” or “beige.” Hate it.) I thought about giving it back... but first I painted one of my fingernails with it. Ack. I immediately regretted the decision. The rest of my fingernails are summery orange... and even though the paint on them is chipped and kinda ugly, at least it was a me-color. Now the brown one sticks out not only because its the only one fully painted, but because it has an air of permanence as this dull and out of place why-did-I-ever-choose-this kind of color. And even if I take it off, I can't keep the orange underneath from coming off with it. One day I'll repaint it, but it won't be the same layer as the original.


Recently I've had to say goodbye to a lot of people. Some of them were regular I'll miss you good byes. But some of them were the kind of goodbye where you talk about everything that has happened, fix it as much as you can, and realize that it is truly too late to fully make up for your mistakes. I've had a lot of mistake-talks, but the part about feeling too late is definitely new to me. The realizations that have come with this new kind of goodbye, are exactly like my beige painted fingernail.
This is my constant reminder.

"... and you still act like you're in freshman year..."

THE DAY. April 20th 2007

THE TIME. 1:26 PM

THE MUSIC. Chicago (acoustic version) By Sufan Stevens

WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING. Styding for Finals.

For Starters...

I'm trying the big nerd blog thing. If I want to be a writer for the rest of my life, I should probably do some of it out in the open... and by out in the open I mean not shoved on a shelf with 15 other notebooks. I think this will make all words a little more free. (I should also memorize how to spell probably.)

Story Time...
Last night there were five girls on my bed. We cried together. We consumed 12 bars of chocolate and passed around a half gallon of the best milk I've ever ingested... I imagine that is what booze must be like.
During our emotional spaz together, I confessed it all. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I am scared to death of going home. I said it. Outloud. But not in any sort of perfect articulate manner.

I wonder how much I have changed since I've come way out here. I wonder what people see in me; I wonder about the things no one ever saw. I wonder how many people I failed to see enough inside of.

I've been tryin to make sense of some things. Instead I make lists...

The year in boys.

Fall Semester.
*The met-him-the-first-week-of-class-in-the-student-loan-line-return-missionary boy.
*The i-have-a-girlfriend-lets-be-friends-with-lots-of-unfortunate-drama boy.
*The out-of-state-cop-snuggler boy... ahah, Brian.
*The fall semester lovey boy.
Except for things towards the end, which I take responsibility for, it was how is should be.
*The you're-perfect-why-dont-I-like-you-one-more-return-missionary boy.

-- CHRISTMAS BREAK --

Winter Semester.
*The one date wonder.
*The met-him-the-first-week-of-winter-classes RM boy. I thought he was fun. (I'm starting to realize... first week of class= ravenous RM boys. Run? Play along? I still dont know...)
*The random-allocation-of-California-goodness-treated-me-beautifully boy. He's still here.
*The foreign accent seemed-mysteriously-wonderful-but-actually-a-manskank boy.
*The guitar-playing-kind-of-shy-known-him-forever-liked-him-a-lot-with-a-side-
of-hammocks-and-trampolines... but-ended-badly boy.

Number of boys that never found out I had a big fatty crush on them: 1
Number of boys I totally left out of any of the above: 1

Boy Confession 1: I write about all this like its funny, but really, it weirds me out. I was never like this before... ever.

Boy Confession 2: I love roll out of bed boys. Messy hair. Pajama pants. Hott. Ya'll stop wearin collars.

The year in food.

BYU Chocolate Milk.
BYU Creamery ice cream
... especially graham canyon, peanut butter fudge, german chocolate crunch.
More bananas.
L&T Wraps.
A new love for pineapple.
Smart Cookie.
The Malt Shoppe. (It has a jukebox even, oh yeahhh.)
Pita Pit.
The skeezy shake place across from Little Caesars.
SUBWAY OVERLOAD.
Stephy's Grandma's food... LATE NIGHT IHOP AND DENNYS.

FATTY FRIDAY: "The tradition has not only continued but multiplied. Let it further promote obesity as it spreads forth unto all nations..."

“Hey, if they have to crane life me outta here, Im fine, as long as I don't become the lady that grew into her couch.” --Stephy

Food confession: If I got a fattier my freshman year, I did it with good food... and not beer. I win.

(I would like to write some kind of profound list of things I've learned... or ways I've changed. But I dont know if I could slap that up on the internet.)

This is what I'm dreaming of.

My family. I know I have the capacity to be a better sister. I want to stick to that.
Being a writer..
Freedom with my best friends. They know what I mean.
The feeling of the ocean.
Okay... I really want to know guitar. I want to make my notebooks into songs. How self fulfilling would that be?! What if I could sit down and bust out a song. What if I could always say what I wanted, how I wanted... oh man. I have a guitar though, and I never practice. But this is a dream list... so I'm saying it anyway.
Not fighting with my parents this summer.
I need to find peace in some things, which I have found somewhat, but I'm hoping for a peace that is a little more continuous, a strength that is a little more conquering. I know a lot of that is having faith in the peace that is possible, in the strength I know God is willing to give me.
Lying at the bottom of the pool, and lookin up at the sky.
Drivin with the windows down.
Nachos... the kind you make on tinfoil in the oven. Not lying. Also, banana popsicles.
Jumping in the lake... playing in the mud.
I would like to be okay with a minimal amount of boys this summer, even zero. I would like to be content with that. I dont know... I just dont want that to be a big deal. I think I could do that.
I WANT to go jetskiing. I dont know how I will do this. But I want the freedom of water and sun and wind ka-swooshing in my face.
I would love to make enough money to pay for absolutely everything next year. I am not yet sure how possible that is... or if I'll get a scholarship... but I'll know soon.
I want to be close my brother Corey.
I want bonfires, sunsets, bare feet, and best friends.