An afterthought...

I've noticed a recent trend in my life. Most people get toothbrushes from their dentist at their 6-month check ups. Some get them for Christmas, Easter, or other holidays. I get them on vacation. More specifically, I get a toothbrush from my parents when we go to the East Coast on vacation. There is no reason as to why, but it's the truth of it.
PS The good news is I now have clean clothes to go with my new toothbrush.

Stats.

Okay. I'm 3 days into my trip and here are some stats.
*So far we've driven something like 2,000 miles.
*Slept in 3 different states.
*Been in 6 different states.
*Seen license plates from 35 different states and one province.
*Stocked our cooler with at least 12 pounds of ice.
*Finished our cantaloupe, watermelon, and grapes.
*Been through 3 different toll booths.
Highlights of the trip?
I was offered a job and a place to live in Iowa.
The Grape Stomp at the Grape Festival was actually a 5K.
Singing THE SPIRIT OF GOD in the Kirtland Temple.
I secretly, or not so secretly want to live in Ohio.
Tonight we tried 4 different campgrounds (2 closed to public use, one was actually a trailer park, and one was completely full) before we settled for the Comfort Inn. Such is the stuff that memories are made of...

Ahhhhhhh, the memories.

I was going through a box tonight, looking for a pair of wool socks for my upcoming trip. I found much more than the ultra-mega wool socks (which will coincidentally keep my feet more than warm during my 16 day camping trip/Earl dodging expedition); I found my mission tights. I know many sister missionaries find tights to be the bane of their existence. I was not one of them. I wore them gratefully (in addition to MANY other layers) so that I did not lose my lower extremities. I actually brought them home with me as a "family heirloom". Oh, they were funny. I think part of the reason that I couldn't part with them was for the shock factor. I knew my mom would be appalled when she saw them, but I loved them anyway. There were 2 pairs, both black, equally loved. The first have a hole in a nondescript location that my head would easily fit through. The second had multiple holes in the lower foot area. (The inside of my shoes wore out before the outside.) The legs were still intact and I could still wear them, just had to darn them so my foot didn't rub through. At the time of the darning, I was out of black thread. My companion had loads of thread, however, there was no black. One of the feet was mended in sea foam green. The other was mended in hot pink. I guess it's the closest to emo that I've ever been. I still have a cheesy grin on my face and it's been 45 minutes since I found them. Good memories. Chile. I miss Chile. I'll get over it. I've still got the tights, right?

One month from today, it all goes down.

One month from right now, I will be one hour in to the GRE. I will most likely be trying desperately to focus on the pathetically dry pages of information and playing the "guess what I'm thinking" game with ETS. Actually, I will have probably reached the "I don't care anymore" point and be trying my hardest to just finish...gracefully. Wish me luck. (I've still got a month to study, and 15 of those days will with flashcards in the car. Yay me.)

I stressed out my dad tonight...

I think you'll get the basic idea from Bob Newhart. The good news is that no one died and the cars are just fine.

I've got backup!!!

So I took a film class during my undergrad. We talked about westerns, romantic comedies, film noirs, and a few different Hitchcock films. If you talk to my roommates from that year, I'm not very much fun to watch movies with because I get a little too excited when it comes to analysis. Luckily, I went on the mission soon thereafter and quit watching movies altogether. I kind of broke myself of the habit. A few years ago I decided to watch SOUTH PACIFIC over the Christmas break. I had an enlightening experience. I vaguely remembered a 15 minute blurb on musicals during my film class. We talked about how they use bright colors and music to give a happy-go-lucky impression. I dismissed the thought until I watched SOUTH PACIFIC. Talk about mega-issues: race, prejudice, war, relationships, etc. Oh boy. I decided that the purpose of the musical was to take bright colors and music and major issues and diffuse them into a happy-go-lucky experience. Since the experience, I think my ideas have adapted a bit too. Now, it's more of the canvas to paint the issues in a way that the general public can see them (maybe even with rose-colored glasses), but they are still there. My uncle has a PhD in Theater. Currently he's teaching a 19th Century Irish Lit class, but as I talked to him about the class they are looking at Irish theater as well...the stock melodrama character (as displayed through Lucky Charms, Notre Dame, and Finian's Rainbow). The conversation turned to contributions of different locations to theatrical community. America's original contribution to theater? The American Musical: taking issues, making them pretty and giving them to the public. HA! I do still have intelligent thoughts.

Horn of plenty...

Last week I met up with one of my old Nebraska friends for ice cream at one of the coolest places I've ever been. That day, my daring flavor was Sweet Corn Blackberry. (They make their own ice cream.) While we chatted, she updated me on things to do in Boston. In the midst of learning about the awesome Indian place above the Staples in Harvard Square, I wrote Harvest Square. She politely corrected me, and we went on. (Consequently...AWESOME TRIP planned for Boston.)
Today Roommate texted me to let me know that I'm missing the Harvest. Not going to lie, I've been thinking about that since before I crossed the state line. My one consoling thought was, "Hey! Mom and Dad have tomatoes in the back yard-I'll be fine." Right. I got home, checked the planter box for tomatoes, and found...dirt. Upon questioning, Mom said they sprayed out the planter with Round Up. WHAT!?! Why would they do such a thing to TOMATOES!?! Apparently every plant they have ever planted in that box has come back the next year. Four years later, they had quite the mix: tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, berries, rabbits, etc. Yeah. Rabbits were the surprise crop from two years ago. Anyhow, the planter box.
Wait. Back track. Let me apologize for the rotten transition. (It's never been my forte.) In Utah we had a family joke. We always had a garden and we loved the harvest, but it seemed that the one thing we produced most efficiently was rocks. Every springs we hauled piles of rocks out of the garden and every fall there was a new batch. I didn't get it. Still don't get it. Makes no sense in my mind. This is why I was completely fascinated when I came home from my mission to find my parents with a garden not even 1/16 of the size that we had growing up. They had tomatoes and a cucumber growing in the box and to be honest, it was awesome. I don't think they had ever dealt with soil so fertile. The thing that made us giggle was the cucumber. They next door neighbor is very Catholic. She has her traditional Mary shrine in the back corner of her yard, right through the fence from our planter box. Over the course of the summer, the cucumber grew through the fence. One night while we were mowing the lawn we noticed that the cucumber was growing around Mary's neck. Amusingly enough, it wasn't even just the vine. It was an actual cucumber. Eek! We're not disrespectful! Honest! We just have highly fertile soil!
Flash forward 4 years. My parents were tired of worrying about what was and wasn't growing and how exactly to keep the rabbits out of he said garden so they Round Up-ed (is that even a word?) everything. The morning before yesterday, the neighbor caught Mom in the driveway and handed her a bag of tomatoes. She explained that she didn't really care for tomatoes, but they had a volunteer plant in their back yard, It just kind of appeared. Mom thanked her for the tomatoes and came in to share the story. We looked out back and noticed that this year Mary is nestled in nicely to a thriving tomato plant. We may get the tomato harvest yet...if not, Roommate, you'll have to save me something, yeah?