A lot has happened, and yet, it's nothing really out of the ordinary. I've often wondered what makes me type anything out at all, as, though it's fun to go back and see what I did write, it's nothing particularly needful for anyone else.
I saw my brother's new place, helping him move in some items (though I didn't do much). Seeing his house made me excited to get my own, someday. Decorating and making it your own... very appealing. Of course, my mother thought differently:
Mom: I hope you're out of your crazy phase when you get your own home.
Me: Crazy phase?
Mom: Yeah, funky-crazy phase.
Me: I'm... funky-crazy?
Mom: You don't think so?
Me: You do?
Mom: You don't?
Me: ...I guess I thought I'd calmed down since I'm 21.
Me: Apparently not.
Our own perspective of ourselves is always disproportionate to what we really are. I think I've always found things to be different and weird, and I always figured that there were weirder/funkier/crazier people than me.
But then I thought about it. If I did get a home, what would I end up doing? Given, this will be many years down the road (along with marriage and all that other grown-up crap I don't intend to involve myself with until way in the future), but it was an interesting thought to me.
I know I want vivid colors, considering I have to look at it every day. Violet for my room, probably. Blues in the master bath. It'd be nice to have a nice brown with light pink for the regular bathroom everyone else could use (depends on if I decide that's too girly, though). I would like a deep red for the living room, and probably black accents, or maybe to make it more of a country home, a turquoise with all natural wood. The kitchen would really be the hardest. It seems all too easy to say "Let's go with yellow." I really don't want yellow. Any type of it. Maybe orange, or a sunset red (oooo, with dark stained wood!).
Anyway, it just made me excited for the part of the future that scares me--the eventuality that I will, indeed, be on my own and "grown up." Out in the world, putting to use, hopefully, what I'm going to school for now.
On a side note, I saw an Ice Cream truck and became extremely excited, deciding immediately to get a Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Turtle-with-bubblegum-eyes-cicle, only to find out that whomever bought it was too lazy to take off the pictures and was using it as a moving furniture truck. How disappointing.
Childhood changed so quickly, I feel. Those moments in Richfield seem a whole different universe from now, when Ice Cream trucks would often enough pass by. I think the closest thing I've seen to one is a Swan's truck, which really doesn't count, though you could say it's an Ice Cream truck for adults. Actually, I lied--New Zealand had quite a few, but they held actual ice cream, rather than cartoon characters.
Those days, filled with my then-best-friend Josh, whom I last saw at my brother's graduation party (what, five years ago?), walking across the street to make things out of old toilet paper roles and run away from the wiener dog (scar on my right hand next to my wrist). I barely remember much. I don't even remember the day that I suddenly didn't talk to him, or my gal-pal. I don't think I even spared a thought until my mom said we'd be seeing him and his family for his sister's grad party. I've dismissed so much of my small childhood, when that's really when the real stuff happens. Creativity was never so unabashed, never having to color in the lines, worry about glue in my hair or whether or not my clothes could handle whatever trouble I got into. Everything seemed so much more durable then, particularly my heart.
And, of course, things have changed. Things that were harmless then aren't quite so now. Half the fear of having children is knowing what I have to worry about.
And I can't even take care of myself! In the past three weeks, I've knelt on broken glass, gotten five cardboard paper cuts, smacked myself into a fence via bike and ripped part of my nail on my pinky toe. For heaven's sake, as soon as one heals, it's sure to be quick that I'll have another injury within the day.
I stick around for the amusement. Yesterday, I was told a dream (nightmare?) by a friend: Freddy Kruger put her and her cousin on an all liquid diet and forced them to do paint by numbers in their spare time (I plan on getting her to enter this in here).
Random Fact: Fresh water from the River Amazon can be found up to 180 km out to sea.