Side-note: If, one day, I'm feeling particularly junky and think life stinks, somebody direct me to this post. I constantly need reminders.
I spent quite a bit of time in Utah with my family. Ephraim is beautiful. Let me rephrase that... the natural landscape of Ephraim is beautiful — the mountains, the hills, the night-sky. People's yards, on the other hand, are atrocious, and the sidewalks look like someone took a stroll with a jackhammer on the cement. But none of that matters. I got to be with my family! When the sun set, and the evening air was brisk and sometimes chilly, I would sit on the patio with my parents, and we would just talk. I can tell them anything, and honestly, how many other people my age can claim that privilege of talking freely with their parents?
In July, we went to Salt Lake City. I envisioned the Salt Lake City temple as a massive structure, but in comparison to the other corporate buildings, the temple looks like a hut (although a beautiful, sacred hut). Temple Square was buzzing with the activity of tourists and especially LDS missionaries. They were all so chipper and clearly happy to be serving the Lord.
I am grateful that Mom, Dad, Kylie, Cam, and Kelli could come share this experience with me. If you notice, in the picture, we purposely coordinated our outfits and wore shades of blue, green, and gray....
Just kidding — I just noticed that. I suppose it speaks to how cohesive our family is. :)
So, I drove from Utah to Arizona, last week. Usually, I enjoy driving. I play music and sing my head off, and I don't care if fellow drivers stare at me with bewilderment. This drive, however, was maddening. A major car accident on I-17 left me stopped in a traffic jam for an hour. Of course, I express my deepest sorrows to the people in the accident, but being stuck stinks stupendously. It was then that I reached the following conclusion.... I know why Satan is miserable in Hell. His car is stuck in a never-ending traffic jam, and he will never be able to move... FOR-E-VER. That, in my opinion, is pretty much as terrible as melting in fire and brimstone. At one point, I was stuck behind a lady in a station wagon, and her license plate expressed so great a lie that an oak tree sprouted from Pinocchio's nose. The plate read, "SPEEDYMOM", while she was going 45 in a 65 mph stretch. I was dying, I was impatient, I was angry, and dare I say it... I was sinfully filled with road rage. As I passed slow drivers, I glared frightfully at them, making them quiver in their bones. I used my horn excessively. Exasperated groans and "humphs" escaped my lips. AND THEN... I saw a bumper stick that said, "WWJD." And then I felt this...
Moving on to more current happenings, school has started! And can you believe it... last Thursday was my last first day of school. I am graduating at the end of this semester! But before that... I actually have to, you know, pass my classes. This semester will be intense. In fact, I spent my Friday night doing homework, while everybody else was partying it up. But let's get real here...even if I had the choice, I would probably be doing homework anyway. The double introvert lives a riveting life.
So where does that leave me for the future? If I think about it intensely, I'll probably end up in the fetal position, huddled in the corner of my closet. There are so many choices...so many good choices. And you know what? I loathe choices. Thus far, I have lived my life following a blueprint that was crafted once I emerged from my mother's womb. Okay...obviously I'm exaggerating, but hopefully, you understand my point. I love routines, and plans, and checklists, and goals! But when faced with big decisions, I crack under the pressure and behave as if having choices is the worst thing in the world. What are my choices, you ask? Well... my choices involved leaving AZ, staying in AZ, working, grad school, different programs, a mission, etc, etc. I'm leaning towards the English program at BYU. I interviewed with one of the department faculty members, and she told me about the opportunity to teach first-year English. Wow...wow...wow. That has always been a dream of mine...to teach college students about writing and analyzing literature! But I look like I'm 12, so the students would probably think of me as another freshman chum. But...by all means... this is something that I need to fret about right now.
I feel like in writing, I need to articulate when I use sarcasm. So just that we're clear...I used sarcasm two sentences ago.
To summarize this massive post, I end with the words of a gangster I encountered on campus today...
"Yo, homeslice! Life's goooood." He might have been high, but nevertheless, his message is true.