Thoughts.

Hi. So, I have much to tell you. Much.

Like, for instance, Austin the Cowboy - the forever lasting love of our recent girl's trip to Southern Utah. It's a story that must be told. But not until after I watch Man From Snowy River tonight, just to recall the magical imagery. And to procrastinate, because at some point today, I need to shower for church.

Also, I have a couple quotes on my mind. Care to be overloaded with stolen sentimental statements? Cool. It's about to happen.

First of all, these gems from the movie, We Bought a Zoo. I can't watch more than three minutes without melting like butter. It's so flipping sweet.

Benjamin Mee: I thought if I came out here it would stop. Back home every place reminded me of her. Philippe's on third street, Balboa park, Little Dom's the coffee shop, that...that's a big one. I mean the air, the way it smelled in May and August because those were the months her favorite bushes grew flowers all over our neighborhood. There all triggers, man. Then it got better for a while. I mean, it...it did, out here. But the funny thing is that it just turns out that she's here too. I mean I go to Home Depot, I go to the nine miles away Target.
Kelly Foster: We need a new store.
[they both laugh]
Benjamin Mee: And seriously, I'm avoiding half the isles. Condiments. Pastries, forget about it. She loved red kites and blueberry pop tarts. I mean, who doesn't, right?
Kelly Foster: Who doesn't.

[referring to his wife]
Benjamin Mee: If only I could talk to her about getting over her.
Kelly Foster: Yeah.
Benjamin Mee: Most of all it's the kids, they're the biggest triggers of all. I mean, Dylan, his eyes. You know, I've only seen that expression in somebody's eyes once in my life. And the way he just drives me nuts, he makes me crazy. Denies me, frustrates me, and all the time just looking back at me with her eyes and none of her lightness.
[we see Dylan is in his room, overhearing Benjamin's conversation with Kelly]
Benjamin Mee: What I figured out is that when you love somebody that much, that hard, that long, you can never get away from them, no matter where you go. And that only comes once in a lifetime. Just can't get a...
[he clenches his fist as if trying to open a handle on a door, imitating Walter Ferris]
Benjamin Mee: ...handle on it.
[Kelly smiles]
Benjamin Mee: I cannot let go.

You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery, and I promise you something great will come of it.

And also. I have firmly decided, that the greatest summers are when you know no curfew. I don't know if you've followed my blog for a long time, or picked up on it at all, but I was kind of a hooligan the summer between ninth grade and sophomore year. I never wore shoes and was often at odds with my parental units. I was just a little wild. Not wild with boys or drugs (I hadn't even kissed a boyyet, and didn't understand how someone could smoke a... plant) but I was just having kind of a rebellious stage. Like, I'd tell my mom I was having a sleepover and helping my friend babysit, when really, I was just going to go hike all night under the full moon with my little skater fool friends who pretty much thought I was a dude. (My mom knows about all this, so if you feel like doing her a solid and tipping her off... she already knows. In fact, she probably knew the whole time. She is WISE.) Anyway. Even though I had a lot of teen angst and crap, it stands as one of my most beautiful summers. There was a lot of barefoot walking, late-night swimming, mountain-wandering, semi-inappropriate joking, temple trips, late-night-slurpee runs, and attempts to bully me into driving before I was even 15. (Those never won out, mom. You know I was too terrified.) Anyway,  including the magical trip down South, which I will recount for you soon, summer has just been good thus far. 

Like. Maaaybe I spent the other night writing in my old high school auditorium. And it was a beautiful time, however much of a super-senior it made me. And maybe yesterday I got a pedicure and laid out, and after work, picked up my friend McCall and just drove around in the warm dark. And attempted to improve my longboarding skills in a random parking lot, which I don't recommend doing barefoot. We also tried to catch the doorstep scene of a friend who couldn't hang out with us. Late-night creeping is the best kind. I love Kaysville. People were still up organizing their garages and fertalizing at 11:40 at night. The only thing people  are doing at 11:40 at night in a garage in Provo is evil. So. And it's not that I wanted to stay out later than maybe 12:30 at most, but it was nice knowing that no one was waiting on me or worrying. So, yes. Curfew-less summers are the best kind of summers.