Just life and stuff...or whatever......

It has been brought to my attention (by someone other than my mother, amazingly enough), that it has been rather a long while since I last updated my blog.  I usually try to update at least once a month, but time seems to have gotten away from me.  Guess I just didn't have anything to say.  I know I had a request to review The Host, but unlike most of you, I actually kind of liked that movie, which doesn't really make for a particularly entertaining review.  But maybe I'll still work one up one of these days.

The fact is that I still don't really have anything in particular to say, but if people are asking you about your blog, surprising as it may seem, it would appear that at least that one person is interested in reading stuff you've written.  So I guess I'll write some stuff for them to read.

Dear Bill Waterson...is this an illegal use of Calvin?  If you feel that it is,
please email me and let me know. I'll take it right down...

Let's see.  Last thing I was talking about was the beginnings of the car hunt.  It seems anti climactic to just say "Well, I ended up buying a car."  But I did.  I bought a car guys!  It is actually really exciting.  I mean, I've had the car for two and a half months and I still think "dang I love my car!" every time I see it.  Because guess what.  Remember how I said that my dream car that I would never ever ever be able to buy because it would be crazy times out of my price range was an '09 Honda Fit?  Well, after careful perusing of KSL and several disappointments I came across an orange '09 Honda Fit for exactly how much I was willing to spend!  Downside?  Turns out it was so cheap because it was a rebuilt title.  Right at the same time I came across an '06 Scion XA for about the same price.  There was some serious (and I do mean serious...I was giving myself stress headaches worrying about it) debate between the two.  But in the end, after taking him to the Honda dealership and getting him checked out by their mechanic, I settled on the Fit and promptly named him Chester.  And we've been ever so in love ever since.

The next big problem for me to solve was Sharry Baby.  What was I going to do with this now superfluous car that was cluttering up the street in front of my house.  Though my roommate's boyfriend offered to sell her for me, I decided to give it a try on my own.  Through keen and penetrating reasoning I decided to list her for $1000.  I needed to get $800 for her and I figured I should give a little room for people to barter so they could feel good about themselves.  If you're friends with me on the fbook then you may have seen my post about a rather insulting text I got from someone who was mildly interested.  While I posted the text because I appreciated the humor of the situation, I must confess, it was not a little upsetting being treated like that.  Not to mention discouraging.  Especially as that text was the last response I got for several days.  I was starting to worry it was a no go, when I got a text at work asking me if I still had the car.  The highlights of the story are as follows: car wouldn't start, guy says he's a mechanic and can fix it, I pick guy and his buddy up, guy and his buddy tell me all about how they just got out of prison where they both found Jesus, guy magically makes car start, me and guy and guy's buddy go on a very extended test drive, guy buys car for $900, parents express a lack of enthusiasm that I'm hanging out alone with two ex-cons (they were actually super cool guys, albeit a little unorthodox).  And that is the story of how I managed to sell Sharry Baby for $100 more than I expected to.

for some reason this felt like the right thing to put here...?

Let's see...other news I guess would be that I spent a couple of months seriously considering altering my living circumstances.  For a while I was going to move in with Kara and one other mystery roommate.  That didn't pan out because Kara works in Salt Lake and I work in Payson and there's no way to split that commute so that both people are happy.  So I guess Kara and I will have to live together another time.  But that then got me started thinking about how, now I'm not a student, I have no actual reason to stay in Provo.  So I started looking in to finding a place a little closer to my job.  I did find an adorable place down in Payson with a really nice guy for a landlord.  But it just didn't feel right...as amorphous a reason as that is (especially for me).  Part of it was the fact that I really really love my bishop and ward here in Provo.  I think that Bishop Pickering is exactly the right bishop for me right now.  He heckled me today because I haven't come in to talk to him lately and he said the reason he likes me so much is because I give him so much crap.  His words.  Yeah, we get along well.  But anyway, I decided to stay here in Provo at least for one more winter.  Perhaps after that I'll move down to Payson, or somewhere else entirely.  I can't deny that the idea of having my own place really appeals to me.  But now isn't the time...

this is 100% what it would really be like
pic from Pretty Bland Comics

I went home twice in the last month's time.  The first visit was for my grandma's memorial.  It was just too inconvenient for all the family to come up back in January for the funeral, so it was decided that we'd have a big memorial later in the summer.  My grandma's death has been the first time I've really actively mourned for anyone and it has been harder than I ever expected it to be.  I was hoping by the time the memorial came up it wouldn't be such a big deal, but I'll admit, I spent a fairly significant part of the service crying.  A few days after the memorial Jesse and Grandpa were going to be driving down to North Carolina, so I also was dealing with the realization that if I don't make it down to visit Jesse and Erin relatively soon, it is likely that I won't see Grandpa again.  Suffice it to say, it was an exhausting weekend

Just a few weeks later Kara was heading up for her nephew's notfarewell and she invited me to join her.  I thought it would be nice to get to visit mom and dad with a little less stress so I decided to go.  It ended up being a lovely visit.  And while we were in LaGrande one day we passed by my favorite little bookshop.  I don't remember if I wrote about how I realized at Christmas that what I really really want to do, like for real, is to have my own little bookshop that has tons of personality and can get you whatever book you want.  I also don't remember if I mentioned that Sunflower book is the inspiration for that dream.  I found out at Christmas that it was up for sale and would be closing soon if no one bought it.  When I saw it again a few weeks ago it was all closed up and I think it was one of the saddest things I've ever seen.  The owners, who decided to retire, just never could find a buyer.  But it started me thinking.  I started to wonder just how crazy it would be for me to.....buy it.  Right now.  See, when I decided I wanted to own a bookstore in my head it went something like this: stay in Provo and work for Caleb for a few more years while I pay off all the debt and get my feet under me, so to speak, as an adult; spend a few more years saving money; in about 10 years when I'm rather more solvent and prepared, apply for a loan and open my store.  But here's a sobering thought--in 10 years I'll be 37.  37!  That's nearly 40!  And who are we kidding?  I totally plan on being married with at least one kid by then (well...plan is maybe a strong word...I really hope to be married with a kid by then).  The point is that 37 is not really an age you think of when you think "crazy decisions to take major risks".  Nope, see, that's the kind of thing you're supposed to do when you're young.  So suddenly I'm looking at this empty store and I'm thinking "What if I did it now?  What if I tried to open my bookstore right now when I have student loans to pay off and absolutely no idea what I'm doing or how I'm going to do it?"  Even just thinking about it like that, like it was an actual possibility, was absolutely, physical-response-inducing terrifying.  See, the thing is...I'm not exactly a risk taker and I'm not exactly an efficient, get-a-million-things-done-a-day person.  But then I started wondering if maybe the very scariness of it wasn't a pretty good reason why I should do it.  I started to wonder...is my plan to stay here in Provo and work for Caleb really a good solid plan?  Or is it a nice safe plan?  Much as I love my job (and you all know how much I love my job), do I actually love it for the right reasons?  I mean, how much of that love is actually just a love of comfort?  This is a job that doesn't challenge me at all.  It allows me to sleep in and set my own hours and just hang out with one of my best friends.  These are all great things, but what if I could be doing something even better but I'm too afraid to inconvenience myself to discover it?  When I try to look objectively at my life I cannot say that these are not reasonable worries.  So what if I decided to...well, to completely ignore my personality and dive into the scariest possible (realistic) adventure I can imagine?  I'm nearly 27 years old.  There truly will never be a better time for me to take that kind of risk than right now.  If I crash spectacularly and burn my life to the ground the consequences will be so much more manageable right now than they ever will be any other time.

um...this picture actually feels freakily applicable...

Explaining this all makes me get all anxious and excited about the idea again.  Thinking about the "what if....?"  But sadly, it isn't so easy to ignore one's personality.  Your habits of behavior exist for a reason.  Usually it is because you've spent a lifetime cultivating them.  So even though I can rationally think through why it might actually be the perfect moment for me to dive into a nausea inducingly terrifying adventure...I just don't think I can do it.  It is too scary.  Scary seems like such an insufficient word to describe the feeling that envelops me when I think about the idea.  C'est la vie?

And...I guess that's it.  I'm not sure how I feel about these "this is just a big update of what's going on in my life" updates.  They feel so...narcissistic.  But then, my great long philosophical treatises are just plain boring, so maybe this is a step up?  I don't know...