Loonies, toonies, and tuques, eh?

Well, the moment has finally arrived! Last night was probably the best nights' sleep I'll get for about a month. Who ever sleeps well the night before a bon voyage? Not me.

The bags are packed and loaded, my stuff is (mostly) managed, my goodbyes have been said, my water bottle is chillin' in the fridge (it's probably have one last hurrah with the salsa ... I'm going to miss that salsa.) and my in limbo state is finally coming to a close.

In limbo is awfully uncomfortable, I've decided. Which is interesting, because in this very study abroad class we talked about LIMINAL SPACE, which is the concept of a time, space, or place without any boundaries. The best physical example: elevators. The time you spend on an elevator is entirely dedicated to waiting. People don't talk, because that's weird, even if you know some of the people you're with. You really want to rattle someone's cage, strike up a meaningful conversation with a stranger on the elevator; neither of you have the time or the emotional investment. It is fascinating to see how strangers react.

Today I was wondering what made this experience of having no responsibility or belonging or even regular interactions any different than the summers of my youth, because there are a lot of similarities: my responsibility is low, I don't have the regular system of homework, I did pretty much whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and no one bothered me about not getting anything done.

In those summers, I didn't know anything better. I didn't know how satisfying it is to cross off ten things on your "To Do" list, or to gain educational insight on a subject, make something useful or productive of my time, or focus on service and other people. I was just a tomboy enjoying sunshine, bugs, books, and hanging out with my mom. (which I would still trade for anything, PS. Have you met my mother? You'd want to hang out with her too, making random fruit smoothies or going to Jo-Ann's. Or anything else. I can't wait to come home and hang out with you, Mom!)

That life was great, don't get me wrong. I'm sure a lot of who I am came from getting those childhood experiences. But how grateful am I to find satisfaction in the things I do now, to have meaningful interactions with the people around me and to recognize personal development. I think when we gain the ability to really control our lives, and mold the products we produce, that's when we cross the line from bug-loving summers to idea-executing existence. That's when a day vacation is great, even a week; but your intellect starts to hurt when you don't exercise it. More than ever can I relate to a fish out of water.

Isn't it amazing that with knowledge and maturity comes responsibility. Whether we recognize it that way is our own choice, but that's how the cookie crumbles. Who would have thought I wanted to put responsibility back in my life! But that is what I want. Sure I'll take the stress it comes with; I'd rather be worried about something than worried about nothing.

And now I am going to find great satisfaction in dreaming of passenger vans. Tomorrow starts a grand adventure!

Word of the day: afterclap \AF-ter-klap\ , noun; An unexpected, often unpleasant sequel to a matter that has been considered closed.

Laughter is the shortest distance between two people.

I don't know who Victor Borge is or was, or what his other philosophies were (are? is he still alive? I just assume he's dead because he's being quoted online. But maybe I'm about to be hugely mistaken) on life, but that is one with which I can definitely agree.

True laughter is one of those amazing, bonding, binding experiences that any two (or three, or seven) people can have if the conditions are right. Really, any degree of coherence is all that is required; laughing at 3 AM can be just as satisfying as 1 PM. A history of information, people, events, and memories is usually the breeding ground and essential to true, raucous laughter. Best friends of decades can giggle together over a completely coincidental event or instance and not give one lick that no one else understands the connection between jenga and costco-brand "crunchy snack".

Some souls have been blessed with laughter that warms everyone within earshot, while others find their laughs as malleable as breakfast's over-cooked porridge. (who says porridge anymore? It's Quaker's Oatmeal all the way, folks. Don't buy into Goldilocks. But do you know what I'm talking about? There's this phase of morning oatmeal where you've added just under the right amount of liquid, and in your bowl is this carve-able mass of oats and clumps of unstirred brown sugar. My favorite way to eat it, actually.)

I fall into this latter category. I remember getting comments on my laugh my freshman year, how it was so unique or joy-bringing or whatever. And then I noticed my sophomore year that it changed. Was it because I didn't think something was the same kind of funny? Was I trying to be a different person? Was I not satisfied or embarrassed or some other personal problem? None of these questions apply. Honestly, I think it was because I was surrounded by several powerhouse laughs, and they made an influence in how I laughed. Interesting how those same powerhouse laughers have influenced my life in a lot of other positive ways as well.

Isn't it interesting that someone's laugh is more identifiable than possibly their face? You can hide a face really well under makeup, wigs, eyebrow transformations, contacts, glasses, etc. Usually you aren't fooled, but sometimes, man. who are you? (I'm gonna make a change, for once in my life, ... Michael Jackson knows what I'm talking about.)

But I can hear a roommate's laugh from around a corner and know who it is. I could never be confused about two sisters giggling, despite being nearly identical in personality and beliefs. Even through walls, windows, snow, or people, you can always identify a friend through their laughter. And isn't is awesome how happy it makes you to hear someone laugh? I wish I had a soundtrack of the people I love laughing, because that is what brings me the greatest joy.

I just had an experience tonight of hearing some of the most beautiful laughter from someone I greatly admire and love. I heard it all the time this last school year, but tonight was the capstone hurrah. (Veins were popping and everything, and the back of heads hurt from laughing so hard.)

I'm grateful for this experience I could have, tucked away in my memory (card. Who would I be without a camera?), hearing such a jolly outburst and exclamation of pure joy.

Indeed, 2 nephi 2:25:

Adam fell, that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.

I hope you can find time in your busy, stressful, demanding lives to enjoy true laughter with someone you love. Because it is the best stress ball I've ever seen.

word of the day: malapert \MAL-uh-purt\, adjective; unbecomingly bold or saucy.

Lessons to learn.

This photo sums up my life RIGHT now. I have so much time on my hands, I don't know what to do with it. This waiting around for something to happen is so frustrating, because usually things would happen to me and I had to pick and choose what I would spend my time on. Now it is spilling out my ears and I barely can swim through it to do something productive.

Last summer I had a similar experience, except worse. I went home for the summer to live with my parents, and I loved that. I also had secured an excellently paying summer job. Things were going to be great.

For the entire month of May, I pretty much wasted my time away. I spend every evening home from work doing silly things on the computer (like watching 5 seasons of a favorite cartoon show from my childhood. I know.) instead of spending time with my parents and grandfather, or being outside, or reading, writing, organizing, cleaning, serving, shopping, anything. I really did nothing worthwhile for all the month of May. But I wasn't going to back to Provo until the 15th of August, so I had some time to shape up, right?

The first week of June I had a weird tickle in my throat. That tickle turned into a 3-month, mysterious, hacking-to-the-point-of-vomiting cough with absolutely no symptoms. There was one moment in the month of June or July, I can't remember, where I really was quite sick and I slept in the room down the hall from my parents (my bedroom is in the basement) so my mom could come to my aid as I needed it. And I needed it.

I went to the doctor to get some blood tests and x-rays to see what was wrong with me. That was actually pretty cool, mostly because since I was still 19 I could go to the new Children's Hospital. But there was nothing that showed up anywhere wrong. I did learn I have kyphosis, a weakness in between two vertebrae in my upper back/neck that will lead to a humpback when I'm old if I don't do therapy now. So I'm working on that.

I had no plausible reason for being so ill. And I felt completely fine, when I wasn't coughing. But I had to be careful not to induce any of that coughing, and I couldn't sleep because I was always coughing.

My summer, MY summer drifted away while I was sleeping in a bed or being late to work because I was ill. All the friends, fun, bonfires, games, time I could have spent doing something memorable or productive fell to spending time getting better. And man did I regret the month of May.

Don't let time slip through your hands at any moment, because you really can never get it back. It is such a classic, timeless lesson (irony? yes.) but it is so true. I wish I had that month of May back. But all I'll get is the lesson I learned.

This is probably why I have a general aversion to watching TV or movies on a regular basis. I feel more relaxed when I am with friends, family, or reading a book; TV and movies are hardly at the quality to be inspirational or uplifting, so I prefer to have them use my precious time as little as possible. I am a weakling for all things internet, so that is this summer's focus. Less time online = more time greatly spent.

And speaking of time, I've got so little left to get ready for the day. ciao.

Word of the Day: iatrogenic \ahy-a-truh-JEN-ik\, adjective; A malady induced inadvertently by a physician or surgeon or by medical treatment or diagnostic procedures.

(just in case you are wondering, I always get the word of the day after I finish my post, so the fact that the words always coincide with some aspect of my post is starting to creep me out.)