I recently went on a cross-country road trip. I accompanied my roommate Lindsay to her home on the Illinois side of St. Louis from Provo, Utah. Approximately 1300 miles. Not a bad distance to cover in a day and a half.
We left Thursday afternoon after stopping for one last J Dawg. I still cannot get over how amazing those hot dogs are. Lindsay drove all the way to Denver that night. That left me in the passenger seat, quite bored. Until I found...the camera. I had a bit too much fun snapping photos of everything outside of the car. Lindsay didn't enjoy the videos I took though. It was actually a pretty fun drive through Utah and Colorado. Everyone complains about Utah being so ugly and brown. We did hit some kind of brown spots, but I thought that even the brown was beautiful. We drove through several canyons and especially enjoyed holding our breath and honking through all the tunnels. We merely chatted and listened to Lindsay's iPod, jamming out to High School Musical, NSYNC, and many other fantastic hits.
We stopped outside Denver at about midnight at some strangers house and snuck in and quickly fell asleep. The next morning we were up and out of there before 8. A boring 13 hours of driving across the rest of Colorado, Kansas, and Missouri. I had the privilege of driving across Kansas. Lindsay was quite upset that there was absolutely nothing to take pictures of all across the state. Ha. After a slight detour through Kansas City earlier that evening, we arrived in O'Fallon at about 10. It was bedtime soon after that.
That was an absolutely thrilling retelling of our trip, I know. I hope it was enjoyable.
My favorite part of the trip was a tie between two things...
1) A game that we started on Thursday evening. It was informally called, Take a Picture of Ridiculous Road Signs.
I wish that I had all the pictures that I took, but those are in Lindsay's possession. We ran across some pretty crazy signs in Colorado though. Hilarious. Some were just funny town names. Some were funny warnings. Here is a count down of my top ten favorites:
10. HM with a big slash through it...?
9. Woodcutting Prohibited
8. Pass With Care
7. Never Shake a Baby
6. Caution: Rumble Strips
5. Speed Patrolled By Aircraft (this one is funny because we were trying to figure out how aircraft enforce speeding...haha)
4. Point of Geological Interest
3. Trail Through Time
2. I-70: Welcome to Kansas' Main Street
1. Eagles on Highway
2) Me frantically skipping through Lindsay's 2000+ songs on shuffle as we drove through St. Louis, trying to get to "Get Back" because the road trip was not going to be complete without us jamming to that and we were almost home. We finally got to it. Whew. It was close though.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Past, Present, and Future from the Past's Perspective
I am currently in Lawrenceville, Georgia right now visiting my family, my house, and my best friend (and only friend who still lives here). It's strange because I've lived here for basically my whole life and I've never known anywhere else as "home" until now. Everyone keeps asking me how soon I'm going home, obviously meaning Provo, and it's so strange to hear that. But it's true, Provo is my home now. Gosh, when did I grow up? I'm an adult who doesn't live at home anymore. I have a job and pay for all of my living expenses myself. I go to school and will have a career in a year. I am completely responsible for myself. Man that all happens so fast. But, I'm not complaining. I'm ready and loving this stage of my life.
That was kind of a tangent that I didn't mean to go off on. One of the main reasons I'm here for a visit is so I can clean out my room and get everything that I want to have with me in Provo. So that means lots of digging and cleaning out. Thankfully I did the deep cleaning last summer so it hasn't been too bad. I've just gone through a small filing cabinet and all the organized boxes in the closet, pulling out the stuff that I want.
The most fun I had was on Thursday when I was going through my filing cabinet. I have a bunch of old school work from elementary through high school. I spent a good amount of time laughing at some of my kindergarten writing. I was so amused that I thought I'd share with you. If I was really cool I'd scan it in here, but I'm too lazy to have to go downstairs and figure out if the scanner still works, so you'll just have to deal with my typed transcriptions.
First I found the little fill-in-the-blank questionnaires for Mother's and Father's Day:
My mom is 30 years old. She has green eyes and brown hair. She is 4 feet tall and weighs 90 pownds. She works at houm. At houm she taks ker of Jeff. Her favorite thing to do is going to UT. Her favorite food is pazzia. She likes to cook fug. On TV she watches ice scading. She and I like to plant flauurs together. I love my mom!
My dad is 30 years old. He has bronw eyes and black hair. He is 10 feet tall and weighs (I can’t tell if it’s 30 or 300) pounds. He is ergoner. His favorite thing to do is sit in the crre. His favorite food is lazanua. He likes to cook food. On TV he watches [baseball] games. He and I like to play together. I love my dad!
Don't fault me for being vain, but how precious! Admittedly I was a cute kid. Reading these made me excited for parenthood, just so I could have my own precious children write that my favorite thing to cook is [fudge]. Ha!
I also found a cute little blurb about my brother that I typed at the computer lab:
3-8-96 I like to hug Jeff And he Likes To hug Me win I git Home.
Aw, if only it were still like that. Actually, Jeff has been fantastic while I've been here. He took me shopping (well, I had the plastic so I was the one that paid, but he drove) and we went and bonded at the Verizon store trying to decide which phones we want when our two years is up next month. I'm not even sure that he's yelled at me once. What an improvement! Last summer, the only time he acknowledged me was to yell at me for existing. So he might not have hugged me when I got home, but he's been a good pal. And he keeps asking me what we're going to do in Provo when the fam comes out in July. So I guess he does love me. I'm excited!
The next thing that made me chuckle was the little book I made that same year called "When I Grow Up." It contained each of the following three sentences on their own page, accompanied by an illustration that you'll just have to imagine:
When I grow up I am going to have 100 dollars.
When I grow up I will have a cunvrdabl.
When I grow up I will have a cunpudr.
1. At the moment I actually have more than 100 dollars. Having 100 hundred dollars is an excellent goal though, as I obviously knew as a child.
2. I'm still working on this one. Perhaps one day though. I still have plenty more time to grow up, so that means I've still got time to get a convertible.
3. I do in fact have a computer.
It's very funny to see our expectations of the future from the past. I actually have another example of this, but we'll have to fast forward from kindergarten to 8th grade. In my cleaning I found a list of 10 goals that I had for my life, a health assignment or something. Here's the list:
1. Graduate from high school with mostly As and only a few Bs
2. Get into BYU and graduate
3. Make it into senior company next year at dance
4. Work hard at dance and get a solo in a show
5. Marry someone who has same standards as me
6. Hang out with good people
7. Continue to do well at playing my flute
8. Get along better with my family
9. Not procrastinate!!!
10.Open my own dance studio
Very amusing to see what was important to me when I was thirteen. I have kind of failed at a majority of this list though...
1. I did graduate with a 4.0, so that one was a check.
2. I am in fact at BYU, on my way to graduating. Only death will stop me.
3. I did make it to senior company at dance at the end of that year.
4. I quit dancing before I had the opportunity for a solo. Before that I had stopped working hard though...
5. I'm working on that one. Hopefully one day in the not too distant future I can put a check by this one.
6. I think I do have this one down. Funny goal though for life. Well, not really, but it is interesting that I put that instead of "Have 12 kids" or something ridiculous.
7. Flute...I guess I did this for a couple more years. Meh, whatever now though.
8. I do get along much better with my family now than when I was in middle school. Ha...oh the angsty rages. They were rare, but they were ugly when they happened.
9. Ha. Like that'll ever happen.
10. No desire in the world to do this anymore. It was in my life plan though back then.
Very fascinating to see what seven years will do to you. I wish I had a list of ten goals from when I had just graduated from high school. That would be extremely fascinating. I'm a completely different person now than I was back then. Crazy what just two years will do to you.
Hmm this is kind of a crazy, random, silly post. I think to top it off I'll leave with a list of ten goals I have for my life, as of right now:
1. Sew three skirts by the time I leave on Wednesday.
2. Work out and lay out every morning, Mon-Sat for all of July and August.
3. Go on 73 dates before July 1, 2012.
4. Complete my list of 21 things to do before I turn 21.
5. Use my time more wisely so that I only do homework at school during the day.
6. Graduate!
7. Be the awesome 5th grade teacher that all the kids want to have.
8. Learn how to play the guitar. And the piano.
9. Marry my best friend in the temple.
10. Raise a family that has a strong testimony of the Gospel.
That was kind of a tangent that I didn't mean to go off on. One of the main reasons I'm here for a visit is so I can clean out my room and get everything that I want to have with me in Provo. So that means lots of digging and cleaning out. Thankfully I did the deep cleaning last summer so it hasn't been too bad. I've just gone through a small filing cabinet and all the organized boxes in the closet, pulling out the stuff that I want.
The most fun I had was on Thursday when I was going through my filing cabinet. I have a bunch of old school work from elementary through high school. I spent a good amount of time laughing at some of my kindergarten writing. I was so amused that I thought I'd share with you. If I was really cool I'd scan it in here, but I'm too lazy to have to go downstairs and figure out if the scanner still works, so you'll just have to deal with my typed transcriptions.
First I found the little fill-in-the-blank questionnaires for Mother's and Father's Day:
My mom is 30 years old. She has green eyes and brown hair. She is 4 feet tall and weighs 90 pownds. She works at houm. At houm she taks ker of Jeff. Her favorite thing to do is going to UT. Her favorite food is pazzia. She likes to cook fug. On TV she watches ice scading. She and I like to plant flauurs together. I love my mom!
My dad is 30 years old. He has bronw eyes and black hair. He is 10 feet tall and weighs (I can’t tell if it’s 30 or 300) pounds. He is ergoner. His favorite thing to do is sit in the crre. His favorite food is lazanua. He likes to cook food. On TV he watches [baseball] games. He and I like to play together. I love my dad!
Don't fault me for being vain, but how precious! Admittedly I was a cute kid. Reading these made me excited for parenthood, just so I could have my own precious children write that my favorite thing to cook is [fudge]. Ha!
I also found a cute little blurb about my brother that I typed at the computer lab:
3-8-96 I like to hug Jeff And he Likes To hug Me win I git Home.
Aw, if only it were still like that. Actually, Jeff has been fantastic while I've been here. He took me shopping (well, I had the plastic so I was the one that paid, but he drove) and we went and bonded at the Verizon store trying to decide which phones we want when our two years is up next month. I'm not even sure that he's yelled at me once. What an improvement! Last summer, the only time he acknowledged me was to yell at me for existing. So he might not have hugged me when I got home, but he's been a good pal. And he keeps asking me what we're going to do in Provo when the fam comes out in July. So I guess he does love me. I'm excited!
The next thing that made me chuckle was the little book I made that same year called "When I Grow Up." It contained each of the following three sentences on their own page, accompanied by an illustration that you'll just have to imagine:
When I grow up I am going to have 100 dollars.
When I grow up I will have a cunvrdabl.
When I grow up I will have a cunpudr.
1. At the moment I actually have more than 100 dollars. Having 100 hundred dollars is an excellent goal though, as I obviously knew as a child.
2. I'm still working on this one. Perhaps one day though. I still have plenty more time to grow up, so that means I've still got time to get a convertible.
3. I do in fact have a computer.
It's very funny to see our expectations of the future from the past. I actually have another example of this, but we'll have to fast forward from kindergarten to 8th grade. In my cleaning I found a list of 10 goals that I had for my life, a health assignment or something. Here's the list:
1. Graduate from high school with mostly As and only a few Bs
2. Get into BYU and graduate
3. Make it into senior company next year at dance
4. Work hard at dance and get a solo in a show
5. Marry someone who has same standards as me
6. Hang out with good people
7. Continue to do well at playing my flute
8. Get along better with my family
9. Not procrastinate!!!
10.Open my own dance studio
Very amusing to see what was important to me when I was thirteen. I have kind of failed at a majority of this list though...
1. I did graduate with a 4.0, so that one was a check.
2. I am in fact at BYU, on my way to graduating. Only death will stop me.
3. I did make it to senior company at dance at the end of that year.
4. I quit dancing before I had the opportunity for a solo. Before that I had stopped working hard though...
5. I'm working on that one. Hopefully one day in the not too distant future I can put a check by this one.
6. I think I do have this one down. Funny goal though for life. Well, not really, but it is interesting that I put that instead of "Have 12 kids" or something ridiculous.
7. Flute...I guess I did this for a couple more years. Meh, whatever now though.
8. I do get along much better with my family now than when I was in middle school. Ha...oh the angsty rages. They were rare, but they were ugly when they happened.
9. Ha. Like that'll ever happen.
10. No desire in the world to do this anymore. It was in my life plan though back then.
Very fascinating to see what seven years will do to you. I wish I had a list of ten goals from when I had just graduated from high school. That would be extremely fascinating. I'm a completely different person now than I was back then. Crazy what just two years will do to you.
Hmm this is kind of a crazy, random, silly post. I think to top it off I'll leave with a list of ten goals I have for my life, as of right now:
1. Sew three skirts by the time I leave on Wednesday.
2. Work out and lay out every morning, Mon-Sat for all of July and August.
3. Go on 73 dates before July 1, 2012.
4. Complete my list of 21 things to do before I turn 21.
5. Use my time more wisely so that I only do homework at school during the day.
6. Graduate!
7. Be the awesome 5th grade teacher that all the kids want to have.
8. Learn how to play the guitar. And the piano.
9. Marry my best friend in the temple.
10. Raise a family that has a strong testimony of the Gospel.
Lesson #1 in Parenthood
So the other night I accompanied my family to a summer league swim meet for the team that my brother helps coach. I went merely to be supportive and to get out of the house. It was a worthwhile experience for the night though. First of all, it brought back many fond memories.
Swim team is the essence of my childhood summers. Get up every morning and head to practice. Listen to the teenage coaches put together a random combination of strokes and distances to swim for an hour. Wait for Thursday nights to roll around. Pack a big cooler, the gameboy, coloring book, music. Cars lining the streets. Crowds of lawn and camping chairs marking territories. Sticky heat, even after the sun goes down. Mosquitoes. Fireflies. Having Mom or a friend help me cram my head into my latex swim cap with an obnoxiously ridiculous drawing of the team mascot on it. Being herded through the bullpen and staging by those bossy moms who are on a power trip because this is the only chance they have to control anyone besides their own kids who never listen anyways. Begging Mom for fifty cents to go buy some sour punch straws at the concession stand. Waiting around for the score at the end, hoping you won just so you can push the coaches in.
Oh, good times.
What really made this trip worthwhile is that it was a lesson in parenthood. I hope to be a parent someday in the not too terribly distant future, and it's good learning some of the dos and don'ts. From where I was sitting I had a perfect shot of all the different ridiculous parents and I hope to goodness that that is not the fate that I await.
First you've got the parents who completely ignore their kids unless they're in the water, and even sometimes then too. They signed their kids up merely so they could have a social network that they feel a part of. The women come to practice every morning ready to gossip about the latest soap operas and sitcoms. The men talk sports. "Oh, what sweetie? Yeah go get a towel...we'll leave when Mom's done talking." Two hours later the kids are lost down at the creek trying to catch lizards and everyone is freaking out trying to find them, though Mom is not nearly as worried as the rest of them, as long as she gets home by 12:30 for Days of Our Lives. Ridiculous.
Next you've got the parents who were swimmers themselves or wish they had been. Yes, those annoying ones always portrayed on TV who are trying to live vicariously through their kids. The kids don't care half as much as their parents, but they have to pretend like they do to avoid being grounded forever. These parents sat their kids down and made sure they had a full spaghetti dinner before they came and their cooler is stocked full of water, grapes, bananas, granola, etc. They try to get their kids mentally prepared for the race. They stand at the corner of the pool with a stopwatch in hand, waiting for the beep as their child stands on the block, and then they chase their kid all the way down and back whistling their breathing pattern and then insist that their stopwatch has the correct time. They hover around the results board and if they're good they offer praise and share the glory; if they're bad they threaten more practice or a loss of privileges. This isn't the Olympics.
Then there are those parents who say they're doing swim team just for fun but make a much bigger deal out of it than necessary. They pack their cooler with candy and chips and soda and give their kids twenty bucks to spend at the concession stand on pizza, nachos, hot dogs, and the like. The parents sit and chat with the other parents, but they pay attention to their kids too. There is a good balance there at least. But then when their kid gets up on that block the whole world stops and is supposed to be paying attention to her. Mom is silently holding her breath waiting for the start while Dad has his camera up to his face, ready to get that perfectly arched bellyflop in the frame. Then as soon as they're all in the water it's nonstop screaming from both parties. "GO SWIM FASTER GO GO THEY'RE CATCHING UP STROKE STROKE BREATHE OH MY GOSH HURRY GO GO GO GO!!!" Let me tell you a secret Mom and Dad: your swimmer can't hear you. She's underwater. Never once in my life while I was swimming did I ever hear my name being cheered and I can assure you that your child can't hear you either. After cheering themselves hoarse they run to the block and pull their kid out, wrapping them immediately in a big, fluffly towel. When the score is announced they jump up and down and scream excitedly if their team is winning and ignore it as if it's only a weather advisory system test if they're losing. If their child gets disqualified or misses a swim they go and beg the computer people to print out a ribbon label for him anyways because Junior will cry if all his brothers and sisters get ribbons and he doesn't. The next day when the kids get their ribbons they wave all of the blue ones in their friends faces, taking advantage of all bragging rights they have as the parent of the fastest swimmer. If there aren't any blue ones they tell the kids, "Well, since you all got rainbow ribbons [speedbreakers] this week, we'll go out for ice cream!" The parents obviously care so much more than the kids do, but hey, free ice cream, right? What a joke.
I am thankful that my parents do not, nor did they ever, fit into any of these categories. Mine are the kind that are quietly supportive, and that's what I like best. They were the ones who sat at the computer and entered times or stroke judged. When Jeff's or my heat was up to swim they stood and watched, offering one cheer of encouragement while on the block and then silently rooting for us while we were in the water. The only other words needed from them after a swim was "Good job, you did your best." No need for any bribes or threats. Summer swim team was purely for fun and my parents kept it in check. (My brother's year-round club swimming is a bit of a different story, but still nothing too crazy.) I hope to follow in their footsteps as a parent and not take life to such ridiculous extremes.
Swim team is the essence of my childhood summers. Get up every morning and head to practice. Listen to the teenage coaches put together a random combination of strokes and distances to swim for an hour. Wait for Thursday nights to roll around. Pack a big cooler, the gameboy, coloring book, music. Cars lining the streets. Crowds of lawn and camping chairs marking territories. Sticky heat, even after the sun goes down. Mosquitoes. Fireflies. Having Mom or a friend help me cram my head into my latex swim cap with an obnoxiously ridiculous drawing of the team mascot on it. Being herded through the bullpen and staging by those bossy moms who are on a power trip because this is the only chance they have to control anyone besides their own kids who never listen anyways. Begging Mom for fifty cents to go buy some sour punch straws at the concession stand. Waiting around for the score at the end, hoping you won just so you can push the coaches in.
Oh, good times.
What really made this trip worthwhile is that it was a lesson in parenthood. I hope to be a parent someday in the not too terribly distant future, and it's good learning some of the dos and don'ts. From where I was sitting I had a perfect shot of all the different ridiculous parents and I hope to goodness that that is not the fate that I await.
First you've got the parents who completely ignore their kids unless they're in the water, and even sometimes then too. They signed their kids up merely so they could have a social network that they feel a part of. The women come to practice every morning ready to gossip about the latest soap operas and sitcoms. The men talk sports. "Oh, what sweetie? Yeah go get a towel...we'll leave when Mom's done talking." Two hours later the kids are lost down at the creek trying to catch lizards and everyone is freaking out trying to find them, though Mom is not nearly as worried as the rest of them, as long as she gets home by 12:30 for Days of Our Lives. Ridiculous.
Next you've got the parents who were swimmers themselves or wish they had been. Yes, those annoying ones always portrayed on TV who are trying to live vicariously through their kids. The kids don't care half as much as their parents, but they have to pretend like they do to avoid being grounded forever. These parents sat their kids down and made sure they had a full spaghetti dinner before they came and their cooler is stocked full of water, grapes, bananas, granola, etc. They try to get their kids mentally prepared for the race. They stand at the corner of the pool with a stopwatch in hand, waiting for the beep as their child stands on the block, and then they chase their kid all the way down and back whistling their breathing pattern and then insist that their stopwatch has the correct time. They hover around the results board and if they're good they offer praise and share the glory; if they're bad they threaten more practice or a loss of privileges. This isn't the Olympics.
Then there are those parents who say they're doing swim team just for fun but make a much bigger deal out of it than necessary. They pack their cooler with candy and chips and soda and give their kids twenty bucks to spend at the concession stand on pizza, nachos, hot dogs, and the like. The parents sit and chat with the other parents, but they pay attention to their kids too. There is a good balance there at least. But then when their kid gets up on that block the whole world stops and is supposed to be paying attention to her. Mom is silently holding her breath waiting for the start while Dad has his camera up to his face, ready to get that perfectly arched bellyflop in the frame. Then as soon as they're all in the water it's nonstop screaming from both parties. "GO SWIM FASTER GO GO THEY'RE CATCHING UP STROKE STROKE BREATHE OH MY GOSH HURRY GO GO GO GO!!!" Let me tell you a secret Mom and Dad: your swimmer can't hear you. She's underwater. Never once in my life while I was swimming did I ever hear my name being cheered and I can assure you that your child can't hear you either. After cheering themselves hoarse they run to the block and pull their kid out, wrapping them immediately in a big, fluffly towel. When the score is announced they jump up and down and scream excitedly if their team is winning and ignore it as if it's only a weather advisory system test if they're losing. If their child gets disqualified or misses a swim they go and beg the computer people to print out a ribbon label for him anyways because Junior will cry if all his brothers and sisters get ribbons and he doesn't. The next day when the kids get their ribbons they wave all of the blue ones in their friends faces, taking advantage of all bragging rights they have as the parent of the fastest swimmer. If there aren't any blue ones they tell the kids, "Well, since you all got rainbow ribbons [speedbreakers] this week, we'll go out for ice cream!" The parents obviously care so much more than the kids do, but hey, free ice cream, right? What a joke.
I am thankful that my parents do not, nor did they ever, fit into any of these categories. Mine are the kind that are quietly supportive, and that's what I like best. They were the ones who sat at the computer and entered times or stroke judged. When Jeff's or my heat was up to swim they stood and watched, offering one cheer of encouragement while on the block and then silently rooting for us while we were in the water. The only other words needed from them after a swim was "Good job, you did your best." No need for any bribes or threats. Summer swim team was purely for fun and my parents kept it in check. (My brother's year-round club swimming is a bit of a different story, but still nothing too crazy.) I hope to follow in their footsteps as a parent and not take life to such ridiculous extremes.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Boredom: Again We Meet.
Ah Summer. Everyone's favorite season.
Not mine.
Who likes the heat and humidity (depending on where you are) and plethora of time that you don't know how to spend? Well some of you might, but I don't care for it so much.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the break from school. Not having to worry about tests and projects and papers and all the likes is fantastic. But then there's the thoughts and feelings of "So, why do I exist right now?" Ha, I'm sounding like the angsty, emo fourteen-year-old me. I'll stop.
I guess I'm just complaining because it's been a long time since I've actually had a good summer. Like, since I was thirteen or so. That's several years. But, this year is going to be different. Right now I am visiting my family, which is a great thing. I love not having to cook for myself or pay for laundry. Hanging with my bro is always fun, especially because he is significantly less grumpy than he was last summer when I came home. I get to see my favorite family, the De Le Penas, which is exciting. Then after a week, before I have too much time to get bored out of my mind, I get to return to Provo. Back to the bubble.
For the months of July and August though I plan on keeping myself very busy. I will wake up in the morning and workout. Running, biking, crunches, push ups, calf raises, the works. I will then go for a swim and read while I layout for the rest of the morning. Then in the early afternoon I will head off to work for 8 hours. When I get home after nine I plan on finding fun and exciting things to do with people. Bed by...let's say 1. Not a bad day, right? At least if I can follow this planned schedule I'll be in good shape, tan, and well read by the time school starts.
Hmm. I had hoped that my first blog entry would be much more entertaining than this. I apologize for its blandness. I'll definitely work on that. Meanwhile, my stomach is calling me to dinner. Mmm...Mom's lasagna.
Not mine.
Who likes the heat and humidity (depending on where you are) and plethora of time that you don't know how to spend? Well some of you might, but I don't care for it so much.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the break from school. Not having to worry about tests and projects and papers and all the likes is fantastic. But then there's the thoughts and feelings of "So, why do I exist right now?" Ha, I'm sounding like the angsty, emo fourteen-year-old me. I'll stop.
I guess I'm just complaining because it's been a long time since I've actually had a good summer. Like, since I was thirteen or so. That's several years. But, this year is going to be different. Right now I am visiting my family, which is a great thing. I love not having to cook for myself or pay for laundry. Hanging with my bro is always fun, especially because he is significantly less grumpy than he was last summer when I came home. I get to see my favorite family, the De Le Penas, which is exciting. Then after a week, before I have too much time to get bored out of my mind, I get to return to Provo. Back to the bubble.
For the months of July and August though I plan on keeping myself very busy. I will wake up in the morning and workout. Running, biking, crunches, push ups, calf raises, the works. I will then go for a swim and read while I layout for the rest of the morning. Then in the early afternoon I will head off to work for 8 hours. When I get home after nine I plan on finding fun and exciting things to do with people. Bed by...let's say 1. Not a bad day, right? At least if I can follow this planned schedule I'll be in good shape, tan, and well read by the time school starts.
Hmm. I had hoped that my first blog entry would be much more entertaining than this. I apologize for its blandness. I'll definitely work on that. Meanwhile, my stomach is calling me to dinner. Mmm...Mom's lasagna.
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