The Swingset Chain

You're a dandelion seed

That flies through the air

And lands randomly

Then disappears

in a bullet proof vest

So you lost your trust, and you never should have.

the thing about my dad is...

...that he listens to me when I'm sad. And when I tell him that I am afraid to chase my dreams, he tells me that I can do it, even if I am doing it on my own. And when I question myself, he reminds me that I endured a heck of a lot to be where I am, and that I shouldn't short change myself just because I'm down. And when I tell him about how disappointed I am or how lonely I feel or how much pressure I'm under or how I am so afraid to be left behind, he doesn't talk about rainbows or butterflies to make me feel better. He says: "I know you are." And sometimes, that is better then unicorns and fluffy animals. Sometimes, having someone just understand and then stand by protectively while I feel that way is better then anything else. And then he tells me he will be out here in a couple weeks and he'll take me to see the Tetons and Yellowstone and he'll give me a great big hug and tell me: "I know you are."

And that is better then anything else.

And we shed what was left of our summer skin

Cazz and I; we used to go for long drives on afternoons when the sun was bright and the wind was warm. And as I walked into my apartment today after a long day of being inside of an office, all's I could think of was how much I missed hot piece of metal of mine and the sheer sense of freedom that he gave me when I rolled down my windows, turned up the music and took a left instead of a right. Flat fields and clear skies and being one with the golden fields colored by September. I long for that. Yearn for it. It is when I feel the most peace and the most alive, all in one moment.

Today, Paige called me and told me that she wanted to go for a drive, because it was so stinking beautiful out.

And within three minutes she was at my apartment, and we had the windows rolled down and there was no destination, although we eventually ended up at the haunted swings in the back fields of Idaho. It's a single solitary patch of grass, surrounded by trees and two old wooden swings hanging from a rusted frame. And Paige and I sat and swung life away and let the Indian sun warm our backs and we talked about boys and first kisses and futures and how glorious these kinds of days are, when the wind is warm and the sun is slowly setting. And even though I had homework and Paige had a sore throat, it didn't matter. For a few minutes, there wasn't a single care in the world.

I really like the way Idaho makes me feel sometimes.

I'm busy and stressed and my soggy chemo brain is trying to retain so much,

but when I'm sitting in the middle of these vast potato fields, with a good friend and the sun,

everything is okay.

Everything will work out.

Happy Monday.

The Things They Carried

'That's what stories are for. Stories are for joining the past to the future. Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can't remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember except the story."

-Tim O'Brien

on faith

"Reason can only be stretched so far, but faith has no limits.”

about this weekend

first of all, I love Fridays. It means no homework pressure when I come home, it means a quiet afternoon at the office, and it means staying up late and sleeping in.
Yesterday was Friday. and I did not love it one bit yesterday morning.
You see, the internet was being dumb, my tummy was being dumb, my chemo brain was being dumb (which means I forgot what I did with my debit card within five minutes) and my attitude was being dumb.
But then, I went to work, and Sam was nice to me. And Symone found my credit card and then brought me Costa Vida. And I had mail waiting for me when I came home, including a super cute thank you card from my primary class I taught this summer, and a few more pages and pictures to add to the greatest story ever told. And then, last night, Symone and I went out with Mark, Jaron and Jared. We drove around in Mark's ancient Volvo and went out to the back fields of Rexburg and star gazed and relived all of our favorite memories together from fall 2008. We talked about banana bombs and Yellowstone and dying Mark's sideburns pink and driving out to the civil defense caves at 1 in the morning. We laughed a lot. I saw a shooting star and we sang to Forever the Sickest Kids on the way home. It was a perfect night with old friends and memories to keep me warm. I was happy.
My brother opens his mission call tonight.
My world is changing, but it is still very much the same.
And I'm happy.

I am an angry bee

Internet issues, you drive me insane. Especially since I am paying more than anyone else to live in Rexburg. Fine, don't give me cable. Fine, don't give me a mail room, a lounge, a study room, a work out room. but really. If you are going to charge me 1300 dollars for the semester, at least give me some internet. Please and thank you.

Epic

I'm going to do my homework in five minutes, I promise.
but first, I just want to say that the "epic soundtrack" radio station on Pandora is rocking my world.

In and Out

IN: Thai Food. USPS. Crock Pots. Glee. Post Modern Literature. Heels. Lists. Photos. Cookies at the Crossroads. Acapella. Waterfall Braids. MIKA. Kindles. Costa Vida. Fall. Hot Cocoa. Chapstick. Lotion. Nicki Minaj.

OUT: Rent. Loans. Anything money related. Online Classes. Textbooks. Toes. Shoes without arch support. Hair dye. Frozen meals. Cable. Planners. Mailboxes. White Boards. Sharpies. Thumb tacks. Jenzabars. Eyebrows.