Posty posty

If you are looking for something profound, look away now. ramblings, that's what this is.

My uncle died. It was very sad and touching all at once. How could I forget? We gathered in Montpelier for the funeral, and they honored him with a 5 gun salute at the cemetery. He got the respect in death that he deserved but didn't get in life. He may have been the only person close to me who died, but now I feel bad and if I remember someone else, I'll have to update. How morbid.

Right before Christmas I thought I was getting a ticket. I was going 40 in a 25, unintentionally, and when I realized it I slowed down, but the cop realized it at the same time and it was too late. He pulled me over, took my licence, and came back about two minutes later with a candy cane. It said "Merry Christmas" from the Provo Police. The policeman just told me to slow down. A Christmas Miracle!

While moving out of Stonebridge and into my new cush place in Orem, I backed my car lightly into another car. It was dark so I couldn't see what happened, but I felt the bumper and it seemed I had scratched it a little. I was sad, but decided to write a note, when I left. I stayed a while visiting with Jess, and as I was leaving, from a different parking spot away from the hit car, I thought...What if I just forgot to put the note on? Innocent enough. Except it can't be innocent if you're planning on forgetting. And I have this New Year goal (not written down anywhere, of course, but in my head) that I need to start doing what I should, and not doing what I shouldn't. That is impossible, but I mean, when I think "I should do this" I want to do it. When I think "I shouldn't do this" I want to not do it. So, as I thought about how I should leave my number, I realized I had to do it.

I did. And they never called! Another miracle!

Last night after I prayed, I thought, I need to wait and listen. I used to be much better at that. So I did. And the only thing I thought was that my mom was in trouble and I needed to call her. The next day (today). I wondered...should I just call her now? But it was after eleven, and then I felt very firmly to call her at eleven AM today. Over and over in my head, call her at eleven. So I did. Exactly eleven. And she had gone to breakfast over at a friend's house.

So not sure about that one. I talked to my dad, and told him how I felt I should call her, so she called me later and we talked, and it was nice, but I don't know why important. I guess sometimes I just don't know. But I do want to follow promptings and thoughts more, even if I don't know why.

I've been feeling like writing. As in, I want to write and publish something. This is absurd, and I thought this dream had died in junior high when I re-read all my stories and realized how horrible they were. But its coming back, and I am now reading junior high kid books to get ideas. In doing so, I found these books I'm really enjoying. They're about Alice, by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor. The first is called the Agony of Alice. They're like 150 pages long, little snippets of nothing important, but they've brought back all the confusion and angst of junior high in such a humorous way, I'm really enjoying getting in touch my memories of little Shena, and all the trauma that happens at that age.

I watched Reality Bites yesterday. I realized that my favorite line to quote: "Don't bogart that can, man" is actually from this movie and not Dazed and Confused like I thought. I also realized that this movie has shaped me far more than I realized. I know I watched it when I was young. I actually thought it was rated R but have found out it is not. I couldn't remember anything about it except for the big gulps. But as I watched it, it all came back, and I realized how profoundly it affected me when I was young. I also realized that 90's clothes were hideous, that Ethan Hawke is incredibly sexy, and that I will probably never root for the good guy over the passionate bad guy. The whole movie I was saying "what a jerk! That guy is a jerk" and wanting him with me all the while. hmmm.

I have bought many things recently. I have my own bed, though my parents bought that. I bought sheets, a blanket, a comforter, a nightstand, a toothbrush holder, toiletbowl cleaner holder, bathroom mat, shower curtain, turtle heater, and probably many other things. All with absolutely no money in my bank account. hee. I feel like a grown-up, and like an idiot. I love my stuff, and then I'm overwhelmed with this sense of greed and suffocation. I have this vision of myself, traveling around, volunteering in foreign countries. I'm giving myself a couple years to get married, and get some skills, and then I figure that will be my life. But then I look at my stuff and think "I can no longer be a vagabond." I mean, I can't just pack up and leave. I have no flexibility, no freedom. I'm weighed down by these materialistic things, these things that have no meaning, that take away resources I could use to help others with so much less than me. I'm living this double life, I have been since I started eating candy bars again years ago, and I just don't know which side of me is going to win out. Or which side I want to. But I gotta start living a life I can respect, and I'm not sure this is taking me there.

I wish I had something great to reward those who have read to the end. I think I have not though. How do ya like me now? :)