This makes me feel old

Why? Why would this make me feel old? Well, you have to realize that this kid was an infant, not even a year old, when we moved to NC. And, wasn't that just about 5 years ago? Right? RIGHT? Kind of like my saying that I had just graduated in '04. Well, there was a 4 in it, but it was '94, not '04!

I still remember being told that we were moving to NC. We were at a BYU football game, playing the Air Force. I was 13, almost 14. Can you think of a worse time to move? During a recent conversation with Mom about PM and JS, she reminded me that there was a boy before we left Utah. Oh, and I REALLY liked him. Can't quite remember how we met . . . I'm thinking that it was during Pear season, and I called to see if they wanted to buy any, but, we met once at the roller skating rink and it was wonderful. I got these cool plastic sunglasses that I just knew were perfect! Those were the days of the 2 t-shirts with the sleeves rolled up to show the other color, and the 2 pairs of socks, same deal. Oh, and the pegged jeans! Yeah, we were styling.

At some point, I wanted to go see said boy. Mom said no, so resourceful me decided to take the bus to Layton. As I recall, this was about 30 minutes from my house. I can't remember how I got caught, but wowza. Talk about being in trouble! I was banned from ever seeing said boy again!

When we moved to NC, my parents allowed me to see him one last time. I vaguely remember him coming by the house. When I went back out West to go to college, I looked him up. Him? What was I thinking? Whoa. Not at all the boy that I remembered! He took me to see his cousin, who literally fell over when he said, "You remember Sheri, right?" I "dated" said cousin that summer (letters, mostly) but realized we could have no future when he put "I think you are defiantly the one for me." I'm sorry, but if you don't know the difference between defiantly and definitely, then you are not the one for me! Ricks was going to have bigger and better things for me, I was sure of it!

Journal Entry #4

Ok, this whole slow thing is driving me crazy! Or, as Drew would put it, more like a short walk. Either way, this is not how I like to spend my day. So, I blog.

How, when, and where did you learn to drive? Any funny memories of that day?

I remember the first time Dad let me drive. We had a Mitsubishi Truck, stick shift, and Dad asked me to go to the landfill with him. Of course, being an almost 16 y/o girl, I had MUCH better things to do, but he insisted. On the way back, he pulled into a large open field. "What are you doing?" "Well, you're going to drive." That's where he attempted to teach me the concept of a clutch. I'm not sure if he discussed doing this with Mom or not, but they also insisted that I be able to drive a stick shift without spilling a glass of water set on the dash. At the time, I was convinced it was an impossible task! And, while the NCDMV didn't require parallel parking, Dad sure did! Also, they were certain that I needed to be able to drive our 78 VW bus. Have you tried one of those? Dad's theory was that if you can handle a stick on a VW, you can drive anything. It's another case of, "They were right." Fast forward a few years, and the parents decide that I'M going to teach Brad how to drive. Yeah. Me. Brad. Brad with the ADD/Hyperactivity, gonna figure out how to drive a VW stick. Guess what? Didn't happen. In fact, we did something to it that had it all screwed up and Dad had to come tow it home! We had that VW nearly my entire life. I cried when I found out that they sold it! While I acted like I didn't want to drive it, it was FUN to drive! I could load up all of my friends, their friends, coupla dogs, and be on our way. In fact, we drove the VW to a singles conference once. Me, Mendi, Kathi, and . . . . Sammi, maybe? Man, this memory thing gets harder and harder. All I remember was that there was no radio in the VW, so Kathi brought a boom box along. It was awesome times . . .

Of course, driving was cool and all that, but I still wasn't "allowed" initially out on my own. Mom or Dad would meet me after work, and if all went my way, I could drive home. Dad was really cool about it - he'd put the passenger seat down and "sleep" on the way. Only later did I realize that he was actually praying, not sleeping! Mom, as mom's are allowed to do, tended to be a little more, er, high strung. I don't even remember the first time I got to go somewhere on my own. You would think that this would be one of those "moments" that you remember, but this sure wasn't one of them.

My first car, that was mine, was a 74 Chevy Malibu. 64k original miles, and I sold that thing for $400. I had no idea what I had. It was the hoop-ti-mo-bile, and the first time I tried to put gas in it, I walked around that stupid thing half a dozen times before some kind hearted man came to see if he could help. My friend couldn't figure it out either! Who the heck puts a GAS tank BEHIND the license plate?!?!? I hadn't ever heard of such a creature. I was convinced that with the exception of a gauge inside, my car obviously didn't need fuel. Still remember the gas station: A Maverick in Rexburg. My friend and I were headed to Yellowstone, and thought that we were just all that, cool and stuff. As we got to Yellowstone, there was this horrendous knocking/bubble-ing sound coming from under the hood. The sign at the local repair shop said "$50 to pop the hood, non-negotiable." To a couple of college girls? Outrageous! Still, what were we going to do? I laid on the southern belle, batting of the eye lashes, and the mechanic took pity. Did you know that radiator caps need to actually fit on TIGHTLY? He laughed, tightened it up, and no, didn't charge me the $50.

What about you? First time stories re: your vehicles? Any special memories? I've always had adventures with vehicles . . . but I'll same something else for another day!

Quote:

"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself." -Josh Billings

Journal Entry #3

It's a slow day here, so I reckon that makes it time for another Journal Entry.

Do you like rainstorms? Do you have any memories connected with rain?

I LOVE rainstorms. Thunderstorms are the best. Even my dog doesn't mind them. But, this house that I'm in now is the best, since it has a metal roof! The garage off to the side of my bedroom has a metal roof, so I can't wait for summertime storms when I can have the windows open! I remember one afternoon at Ricks, I went for a run. Now, I don't like to run. Never have, doubt I ever will. I DO it because it's good exercise, but I don't particularly care for it. Still, this afternoon for some reason I took off, and ran in the pouring down rain. It felt fantastic! I was telling a friend last night that there are some memories that are seared into your mind, and that's one of mine. I know the whole landscape there has changed, but when I was there, AV was the last apartment building at the top of the hill. You had an amazing view of the whole city of Rexburg. Watching those dark clouds roll in over the sand dunes and the city was an awesome sight. I love those days that the forecast calls for "abundant sunshine", but sometimes, a nice good pounding thunderstorm is even better.

Not much else to talk about. Been feeling, eh, not so good. Stressed about something, and it's been affecting my sleep. I am NOT happy about that! Not a happy camper when my sleeping gets screwed up. Otherwise, it's the same old, same old here . . . . exciting, eh?

Those of you who know me, know that I love to read. In fact, Daniel, at the NBDS, has said how strange it is to walk into the room when Annette and I both have our noses in books. I've loved reading since I was a little kid, and it's nothing for me to go through a book a day if I have nothing else going on. I just finished reading a couple that . . . . well, to say I enjoyed them wouldn't be quite true, but I'm glad I read them. One of them was "Last One Out", the story of the highest ranking surviving fireman from 9-11. The other was called "Firehouse", and it's about Engine 40/Ladder 35, which sent in 13 men, with one surviving. It wasn't the easiest read, but I loved seeing these people for the individuals that they were. I've heard people talk about "noble" professions. I believe that public service, and particularly, fire-fighting, is one of these. These people are constantly willing to literally lay their lives down for strangers. There is something about these men that deserves nothing but the highest levels of respect. On the other hand, you won't find more down to earth people. Look at it this way. These guys show up, tear a house apart, drown everything, and you're grateful to them! Anyway. Good reads, if you're looking for a non-fluff type book.

Journal Entry

Ok, so I've been running into some writers block lately. My life is great, but can get routine, and I'm sure it gets, well, not as exciting to read about. I mean, you can't possibly be interested in a Skills Drill that I passed, right? Nothing exciting there. So, I have this little book, "How To Write Your History", and it has questions that you then answer. I figured I might as well give it a shot today.

First one. Describe your first home or apartment on your own. Welllll, first one "on my own" would be when I took off for Ricks College in Rexburg Idaho. I stayed at Aspen Village, and I chose Aspen for one reason. Ok, maybe two. #1, they had an indoor, heated pool. Keep in mind, this was Idaho. That equals COLD. Plus, I swam all through high school, and love to be in/near/around water. #2, it was as co-ed as Ricks went. Meaning, MY building was all female, but all the other buildings were male. Hmmmmm, good odds there. (I later had a roommate who introduced me to this smoking hot, blond, blue eyed RM who also lived in AV that set my heart on fire, but I'll save that for another time!) I started in the summer, so my first apartment was very temporary. These buildings were cinder block construction, with economy blue/gray carpet. I was on the second floor, and as you came in, there was a kitchen table, and then the living room on the left. Kitchen was to the right, but when I say kitchen, it was TINY. Head back through the hallway, and bedroom on the left, bathroom on the right. My bedroom was in the back on the right. I did have roommates initially, but Becky is the only one I can remember. She was awesome! She really introduced me to a lot that Rexburg had to offer, and also taught me that it really is OK to go grocery shopping in your pajamas . . . as long as they are cute PJ's. That summer was awesome - if the whole year had been like that, Rexburg might have had a whole different outcome. I remember lots of little snippets: Bridge jumping, rolling in the sand dunes, playing on the waterslide, Dave fixing my bike for me.

Dave, now, he was an interesting character. Thought he had all the *right* credentials, RM, tall, blond, smart, and he took me out several times. We sat on the hill overlooking the town on the Fourth. He kissed me, it was magic. Wow. Spectacular. Could he have been THE ONE?!?!?! Next morning when he came by, he told me that he just couldn't see me anymore. Huh? Do what? Wait, where did I go wrong?? He then tells me that he just couldn't be with a girl who didn't have "Higher Personal Standards". Ok, then why the heck did you TRY to kiss me? "Because a woman who is truly pure would not have let me." That was my first introduction to the screwed up mentality that existed. Now, fast forward 7 years, and I meet this chick at Southern Virginia who initially scared the daylights out of me. She was all fashion model-esque, and I was about as country casual as it gets. Turns out, we had a few things in common. We had both gone to Ricks, but she lived at Harmony House. We really started talking one night when she took pity on me and fixed me a PB&J because I had to work over the time the cafeteria was open. I took one bite and was CONVINCED that she had tried to poison me. Who puts BUTTER on a PB&J? Anyway, we got to talking, and it turns out that SHE went out with this Dave character as well!!! Quite a game he was playing. Oh, and this girls name? Michelle. :-)

Back to the apartment. After everyone moved out prior to fall semester, my other roommate had these 2 birds that she couldn't take with her, so I took them. I figured, they're birds. How hard can they be to take care of? Ha. Ha. Ha. I let them out in the bathroom while I cleaned their cage, and then could NOT get them back in! I had to get one of my FHE brothers to come over and catch them for me! I quickly found new homes for them after that.

I suppose it's true - after enough time, there are only fond memories left. I love my memories of that year - every single daggone one of 'em.