simpler

simpler times
a bare room with a great view
crisp air

laughing at the buffalo taking turns headbanging against a tree to itch the right spot
taking a boat around the lake to get ice cream instead of taking the shorter drive
jumping in the cold lake while working hoping we wouldn't get caught
bolting out of the water the times we thought we were getting caught

reading borrowed books
hiking threw the snow
driving
everything taken care of if you wanted it to be

Wyoming

I mean there was nothing funnier then those buffalo.

windows in my room

When I was younger I was lucky to have a fairly good size room. Unfortunately I had a full size bed taking up all that excellent space that in my head could be better used for rollerblading and general hyperness.

So that year in my letter to Santa I asked for a cot, jeans, and whatever else he felt like giving me. I bet my parents were so happy. It could have only been made better if I had asked for some rice to eat. (I think I realized I was getting low on blue jeans that day)
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Once when we were playing hide and seek I hid in almost plain sight behind the water meeter by the house. No one ever found me and eventually I gave up on waiting for them. They just kept running by to look in the front and back yard.
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I talk to my Mom alot on the phone. She probably love and hates it at the same time. When I was back in school I called her and during the conversation we got disconnected. I started to call her back when I saw I had a message so I clicked the button to hear it. She left a message saying,"hi? hello? are you there?" and it kept going like that for a while. I started laughing at how long of a message it was when I realized that she had started calling again and I must have accepted her call instead of clicking to hear the message. I was to embarrassed to admit it so I hung up and called her back.
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My older brother found the least amount of easter eggs the year he helped hide them.
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I like to wear my tennis shoe until the soles fall off. Usually once they start flapping I tug on them to speed the process up. These last pear of sketchers refuse to desole themselves. The sides are peeling and cracking, the buttons are coming off, and the loops no longer loop but the soles are still perfect.

the dark

You would think I would get used to it. I've moved pretty often lately and that's somewhat typical of my life. I still get upset though. Lonely, scared. Even though I know it's going to be great, and despite the fact that I love where I am.

I guess every one's more comfortable at home. Even if it's not really their home that they consider home. I was upset yesterday. I've been hanging out alone while E's at work, trying to get a decent resume together. I felt worthless and lost. The weirdest part about it was I knew I was just being over sensitive but I still couldn't stop it.

In a way, it all boils down to homesickness, or routine sickness. I tried to think where I would consider home and the only answer I could come up with is Pensacola. It's sort of a home, more so then the town I grew up in. I would feel out of place if I went back there.

I spent school breaks in Pensacola visiting my grandparents and I never knew how much that meant to me. It's not home because they are there. It's home because they were there. No one can make me feel unwelcome in that neighborhood. Part of it will always be mine.

I think the other part that bothers me is E works until it's dark. It's pitch black here in this room except for this screen. I don't want to say I am afraid of the dark but I am. I'm not always afraid of it. I used to wonder as a kid how adults stop being afraid of silly things like the dark and monsters. Once I get used to it here it wont bother me but I hope he calls me to pick him up soon.

I'll try to make better posts.

Favors

Hi everyone!
I know I have been neglecting this blog but I really want to ask a favor.



I worked on a pavilion project when I was back in school and it has been nominated for an AIA award. That's pretty cool to architects.

The pavilion was a project between our school and a church retreat place. I don't want to put the name to bring people Googling it here but you can see the name on the project.

PLEASE VOTE HERE!!!! FOR A-62

gypsy life I am leaving you behind

We got a place. I'm ready to move all my stuff out of my wonderful jeep. Unfortunately we have to wait until the 11th to move in. When you leave all your stuff in the back of your car long enough it turns into a real mess. I have no idea what I'll find when we empty it.

I started looking for furniture because, right now, we have none. I'm sure it will all be gone before Thursday. I'm so excited. All the searching, the deals, organizing, and photos. The apartment is downtown with a art gallery and ice cream shop below us. I've never lived in an urban setting.

There's a lake behind us and a view of it from our apartment. There's tons of light with a couple sky lights to. The front room is odd shaped but at least we have a regular bathroom instead of the apartment that squeezed a shower and tiny sink in one closet and the toilet in a closet on the other side of the kitchen.

I was going to wait until we moved in so I could post pictures but I ran out of patience.

13,70

Signal Mountain in Wyoming

I hate toll roads. Somehow I have avoided them most of my life but South Florida is full of them. I still haven't decided if the Turnpike was worth all the money. Most of the tolls were one dollar but then one stretch of the road cost 13.70 at one stop.

For 13.70 I think we should get more then one radio station. My new car (the Jeep, I got it) still has the old radio in it with a broken tape player. At one point the guy on the radio started talking about haggling, that people should start haggling with more things then cars because today most companies will haggle. If I wasn't so shocked when the toller said 13.70 I just might have given it a try.

The service plazas are weird. There own little town separate from any town where any of the workers could actually live. The service plazas in Jersey are much weirder. Apparently you aren't allowed to pump your own gas in that state. I was a lucky one that figured that out before I got to the pump. The guy next to me in the 350z wasn't. She cursed at him and then apologized to me and called me sweetheart. That won me over.

I feel a little bad for the worker at the plazas and toll booths. They have to navigate the toll roads everyday and the toll booth job seems insanely dull. (even though the first toll guy on Card Sound was a big jerk today. If you ever go thru that toll and the guy with the curly hair is there give him a dirty look for me. There's only about 3 guys that work there so you'll know it's him)

The only toll I can think of in Pensacola is for Pensacola Beach and I am looking forward to paying that one.

tomorrow

Tomorrow is my last day.

I miss home.