It's Here!

I'm 18!

I wish I could say I awoke this morning with a sudden burst of maturity and wisdom, but I'm afraid I feel like the same li'l ole Tali Rose. But I did deviate from my "health nut" self and had cake and ice-cream for breakfast. Yum! Mom just told me all the details of my birth. I was born after she took my big brother on a hayride. Fitting, eh?

Tomorrow morning "I'm leavin' on a jet plane" (John Denver, anyone?) for Moscow, Idaho. While there I'll be visiting New Saint Andrews College and hanging out with the Pest Control Boys. And freezing to death... It's gonna be great!

This is the University of Idaho, which is also in Moscow. I can't wait to see those leaves!

Two Days and Counting

On Tuesday I got a birthday card (with money!) from my grandparents.

On Thursday Mrs. G called to apologize for missing my birthday the day before, and to say a belated happy birthday. I told her my birthday was the next Wednesday, but that I certainly didn't mind celebrating a little early.

On Saturday I got a birthday package in the mail (containing a knitted shawl and a crocheted hat from my friend Katy).

And it's not even my birthday yet! But my birthday is in just two days. Yay for birthday months!

Wal-mart Wanderings

Yesterday I went to Wal-mart to buy rat food. Apparently someone overheard me asking the Wal-mart employee where it was, because while I was scanning the aisles of various pet food I was approached by a young man. His hair was lime green. He had giant gages. And there were three hoops in is bottom lip.

"Did you say you're shopping for rat food?" he asked.
"Um, yeah," I said (staying as far away from him as I could without being rude. See Mom, I do have common sense!).
"So you have a rat."
"Yes." (Didn't the fact I was shopping for rat food make that rather obvious?)
"Right on!" Green-hair-lip-rings-gage-boy exclaimed.

Then he preceded to tell me all about his roomate, who breeds rats, and show me a video on his phone of a rat spinning in circles (on command!). He also somehow managed to say "right-on!" about a hundred times in our five-minute conversation. Wal-mart is always such an adventure.

In other news...I took the ACT this morning. It was about as much fun as getting your hand stuck in the disposal. And I think I got frostbite from sitting in the below-zero classroom. But now I'm babysitting my favorite little boys, and things are certainly looking up. :)

Let's just pretend this is what it looks like out the window.

It is sixty degrees!

The Auto Shop

After months of driving with my windows down, panting in the heat of an air-conditioner-less car in Florida, I finally took my car to the shop. On the way there I went West instead of East, and turned down the entirely wrong street. Eventually, however, I made it to the auto repair shop--only to find that Sean, the owner, was not there. I tried to sit in the safety of my locked car, but the heat soon drove me to get out. I tried to make friends with a little frog, but he promptly urinated on my hand. Then I tried to catch a firefly, but it flew into my car and banged itself against the windows. So I leaned against a chain link fence, propped my feet on the car, and opened up my book, Icy Sparks.

As I sat there peacefully reading, a violent smell wafted up my nostrils. It flashed in my mind thoughts of squatties in Kenya. I never found out what exactly the smell came from, but I have a feeling it had something to do with the pit of murky water I had to drive through to get my car into the shop once Sean arrived.

While Sean inspected Mirabelle, a man with only two teeth asked me if I'd like to sit down. When I said yes, he led me to a rusted folding chair. Crossing my legs Indian-style, I started reading again. A moment later another man (this one with a scandalous tattoo on his leg) offered me a bottle of water. I accepted it thirstily, and guzzled the sweet coldness.

Soon after, I finished Icy Sparks and tried to focus on my homework. The scene around me, however, was far too fascinating. Hubcaps and tires lined one wall. Two huge barrels of "Used Oil" were stashed in a corner. Cars and car parts crowded the two-walled room and overflowed into the gravel lot beyond. Country music blared in the background and cobwebs hung from the lamp.

I watched as the three men with greasy hands and holey shirts dissected a huge truck and slowly put it back together again. Sparks danced as Sean took a blow torch to the truck's metal frame, and hollered to me, "Watch out, these might fly your way!" Standing on the edge of the shop, a backdrop of trees behind me, I watched the pieces of orange fire settle on Sean's skin and drop against the cement floor. A breeze ruffled my hair and I thought how philosophical a mechanic shop can be.

In fact, there is something very artistic about the gritty rawness of an auto shop.

An Apple a Day Keeps the...

When Tori asked me if I wanted to join the art lesson she was teaching Macy and Tori this afternoon, I declined. As usual I had lots of school and other such important things to keep me quite busy. Before the lesson began, however, I remembered how my dear friend Katy commented recently that she and I were beginning to only talk about "matters of consequence." Like stodgy ole grown-ups. I joined the art class.

If you don't know, I am a perfectionist. Five seconds into the lesson I was erasing furiously and glaring at my misshapen apple. But Tori eventually got me to the coloring phase, and the moment I held the oil pastel in my fingers things started shaping up (literally ;]). It was quite exciting learning how to shade and blend the colors so my apple looks somewhat round. Although it's not perfect, I am very proud of my little drawing. :)

Macy and I hard at work.

I don't care if this is the lesson Tori teaches to six-year-olds at the art studio where she works. I think my apple is pretty darn impressive.

And...the final product!
(Okay, so it looks like a plump heart with leaves. Applaud anyway.)

Just another step on this journey of artistic living.

Rat Tales

As I brushed my teeth tonight, I let Willa scamper across the counter and nose her way through the sink. When Caroline came into the bathroom, she exclaimed,

"Willa's paws are bleeding!"

I looked down and, indeed, there were footprints of blood trailing along the yellow counter top.

"Oh no, poor thing!" I cried, grabbing the rat up. A moment later we determined that Willa had simply stepped in Macy's red lip gloss and tracked it on the counter. Phew!

As I write this, Willa crawls across my shoulders and through my hair. Thankfully this tale ends free of blood and with a completely healthy rat tail.

A Missing Piece

My journal is missing
I had it the other day
But now it's gone
I imagine this is how
A painter feels without a brush
A builder without a brick
A scholar without a book
A bird without a wing
I feel lost
Cramped
Like I'm stuck
And the voices
Are here in my head
My journal is missing

Will I ever find it?