i've only written a very few times this year, which i guess is a little bit weird, considering.

i am a thousand miles older and have at least ten more hours of knowledge thanks to public radio and the lives of americans. i am road trips of exhaustion and a sick stomach, and i think that i would love for it to be 50 degrees more often.

i found a place that feels a little bit like a third or fourth or fifth home, except that it is in a neighborhood that i couldn't ever afford, with people that i'm not really sure how i am related to. there is some weird comfort in people that have never heard of tonga and think that the world should be run by the mob. there is a weird comfort in a family that keeps a turtle in the backyard for 40 years because their daughter found it wandering down the street one day. all in all, though, it's more comforting to come home to a naughty boxer puppy and family in the middle of provo. provo, the closest place to terrible, USA..besides wyoming. i guess it grows on you though, because it's changed the way i think about things. i might even miss it a litte bit. dang it.

"we got a bird, and i've been trying to teach him to talk, but he won't, so i just call him dummy."-dixie, age 74.