Friday, April 20, 2007

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

THE DAY. April 20th 2007


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.


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.
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.

1 comment:

Sab said...

i love you a lot. and love that you have a blog. and love that you now know my blog, even tho i'm not nearly as poetic as you.