Moving away is like dying, except fewer people praising you for your accomplishments. Just a lot of goodbyes, tears, snot, regrets, and hopes you'll meet again. And even if you could go back, it just isn't the same. Especially if they bought you a really expensive flower arrangement for your coffin. It'd be like, "Hey, I ain't buying that again, you ingrate, so you best stay gone."
I bought a lens. It should be here in 2-10 days.
I just applied for a job in Provo. Ha ha haaaaa -- half of me wants it, and the other half is screaming, "YOU DROVE 24 HOURS! You best make it worth it, woman!"
Yes, yes I do call myself "woman" in a derogatory way. I also call Catherine, "Hobo." It's her new nickname, so when you see her, make sure to call her that. She really likes it.
See? She is smiling because I said, "Smile while holding up your new purse, Hobo!"
Plus, it rhymes with "oboe," which just holds so much promise.