It is raining.

It is raining.

Such a simple sentence that can mean so much. Is it a gentle patter; a friend knocking softly to get your attention? Is it so calm it is barely a mist, one that comes and soaks the world in a baptism meant to clean it? Is it a sudden burst over the desert, over compensation for months of neglect? Is it the angry kind that pounds the ground with its fists, a temper tantrum from the sky?

Is it falling on the shingles of the roof of the newly wed couple, so in love they can't see straight? Is it pitter-pattering a top the sheet of corrugated tin the man who lost everything is sitting under? Is it evaporating on hot asphalt or freezing on the cold of steel? Is it falling into a lake to be lost in a crowd or carefully being collected and stored away?

Is it because the sky is crying or did an angle over fill her bath? Is it why that old man is snoring or does he always do that? Will it really go away, really come again another day? Does it feel bad for always being late for the rain dances? Has it ever rained cats and dogs? Does it know that it brings May flowers?

Is it being watched by eyes who wish it would change to suit them; or is it falling, perfect in its solidarity? Does it look back at us? Does it see into our windows with as much fascination as we have? Does it know about the going away presents it leaves us? Has it seen the beauty of flowers and rainbows?

Does it know it is blocking out the sun and canceling picnics? Does it do it for a reason? Was it saving us from skin cancer? Did it want to come on our picnic? Did it just not want us to go? Does it have dreams? Does it have goals? Does it want to be a lake or end up in a tap Why is it raining today and not three days ago?

Do these questions matter? Does the rain feel? Is it conscious? Does it know where it falls? Who it hits? What it cleans? When it lands? Who sees?

Or. . .
Is it just raining?

And the universe is still turning.

I moved exactly one year ago today and guess what? It wasn't the end of the world like I thought it would be. Things changed, me especially, but life kept going. I left my old neighbors, the ones who watched late night kisses happening on our front porch with binoculars from their kitchens, and got new ones who make wofums instead of roasting marshmallows, and now I have two sets of crazy adults in my life. I switched schools, twice, and learned how to be the new girl as well as stay loyal to old friends. I learned how to really play girls camp pranks and remembered that the first ward has the forth of July down the way no one else does.

A year ago if you asked me if I would ever not regret having to move I would have said no but now? I'm not so sure. I can't imagine not having all of these experiences. they have changed me, maybe for the better, maybe not, but they changed me and I am who I am because of them, and I do know that I'm glad I'm me, wither I like who I am or not.

The things you can find in your back pockets

You know when you stick something in your pocket and forget about it;  maybe you'll find it next winter when you wear that coat again, or maybe it gets donated along with the old pair of jeans you're never fitting into, or maybe it falls out and you forget to check for it so it is lost for ever? Well, a boy has done that with my heart. He took it, even though I had no plans to give it to him, and shoved it in his back pocket.

So here I am, with my heart in this boy's pocket and he doesn't know it is there because he didn't look for it, and he is putting his heart in someone else's pocket and it makes me want to scream because i don't know her so I can't hate her and that is really what all girls want to to when a boy is running around with their heart chasing after someone else's. I wish that it was me who he went all out making Valentine's day special for and had a great time with. I wish it was me that he was kissing, even if he might taste funny. And I wish it was me whose heart he took out of his pocket and took care of.

But he isn't looking for the heart in his back pocket, instead he is looking for the one that he may or may not have while mine sits there waiting. But my heart isn't patient. It is telling me that I need to just go up to him and kiss him next time I see him, even thought that would create a scene and he would feel very uncomfortable about it because he doesn't know my heart is in his pocket even though we both agree that telling someone you like them is always the better plan. It is also telling me to text him and tell him that I might love him, or I might just like him, I'm not sure, but I do know that I think about him and want to spend time with him in a very un-platonic way. It is telling me a lot of other things to, and I'm very impressed that he can't hear it screaming at me. I mean it is in his pocket.

But I'm not listening to it, instead I'm blogging about it because as we all know blogging is the next best thing when compared to confessing your maybe-love-definitely-an-infatuation-possibly-an-obsessive-want-slash-need-to-be-with-this-boy-who-might-just-be-perfect.

And tights make a difference

I learned that the robbers in 101 Dalmatians (the one with real people, not Disney) are Dr. House and Arthur Weasly.

I heard this lovely lady, who used to be my dear friend but who now I only blog stalk will follow my blog if I link to hers on it and decided to test her.

I also know for a fact that some times I wish a dashing young man would show up at my door and take me for an adventure when i am feeling low.

It has been rumored that you can fear an opinion, and when you do it is called allodoxaphobia. 

Someone whispered that pinterest is my newest addiction, it makes me feel crafty when I'm really not.

I worried that he didn't want to talk to me, but then someone told me he wasn't talking to anyone.

 I'm sure that he made me feel confident, and rather pretty when we were dancing.

I do believe new CDs are great, but old ones are even better.

Sometimes I think winter is what hell will be like before I remember that hell is hot. And if that means heaven is cold I'll take the fire and brimstone.

I doubt it matters if my skirt is an inch above my knees, if a book of mormon fits between us, if I am awake at midnight, or if I like coffee.

The Thinking I've Been Doing

I've been sick this week. The kind of sick where you just want to lay in bed and do nothing all day long, and so that is what I've been doing. Laying there and doing nothing. That means I have had a lot of time to think, more time than usual, and that is a lot of thinking.

I've been thinking about those kids. You know the ones I'm talking about? I hope so because I'm still not sure. They might be the ones at school that you only know of, or the friends that you don't really know but wish you did. Or the boy you might love if you knew him. Or maybe even that girl that you never wanted to be until you found out who she was. I suppose those kids are the strangers that you spend all day around. Those kids are the ones who could change everything in your entire world if you just got to know them, if you just let the in, if you just opened up and put yourself out there.

I've been thinking about how I need to go on an adventure. One of those adventures where you do something crazy and unexpected and it ends up wonderful, or maybe even not so wonderful but you had fun doing it so that is okay. I want to go paragliding, or drive a car 100 MPH, or fall in love, or ask a stranger to dance, or. . . I don't know what. I just want to do something. I've decided that is the problem with winter. In the winter there is little to do, summertime is the time of adventure and possibilities, and it needs to get here faster and bring its adventures with it.

I've been thinking about school and how I have no interest in it anymore. I'm suffering from senioritis, and I'm only a junior. It might be a problem, I might be a typical teenager, I might be having a quarter-life crisis. Who knows? I just feel bored and trapped and oppressed by my whole life. I spend so much of my time doing all of this structured crap, everyday is the same and every thing is old and bland and I just want some spice in my life again. I just want to change things up I just want to. . . do something.

I've just been thinking a lot. About a lot of random things, and the product of my thinking?

I need some one unexpected to bring something unexpected into my life and take me on a crazy, stupid adventure. Any one up for the job?