Peabody, you're disgusting*

Tonight it's been like old times, I got home at 10:15pm just in time for a late dinner.

I've been less blogolific as of late. I think it's because I've started to say things out loud in conversations with people that normally would sit in my brain until they traveled down to my fingertips, through the clickety tekla of the computer keys and out into the universal abyss of billions of blogs. For example, yesterday, in conversation with JG I compared something to the fall of Jericho. She got this momentary look on her face which is what I imagine plays across your face when you read some of the faluted things I type up here.

This summer at one of those girlfriend-brunch kind of things I was a little surprised to hear everyone at the table agree that I would make a good wife of someone in the army because I (in their opinions) wouldn't be distraught by months of separation from the love of my life. "Hmm..." I thought, "interesting."
But...
There's been this odd thing happening in my life. Sure, I've been pretty independent, tight-lipped, stand alone, rejoice at my singleness type of kid at times in my life. But more and more, I want to lean on you. More and more, I want to see my family and share dinner conversations with them. To hug them, share life discoveries, discuss children's literature and dictionary terms. To help my dad memorize scriptures and be a sounding board for my mother's stake Relief Society plans. I want to dust the living room. I want to crochet with my sister and chat about mixed media self-portraits and sing along to Carole King. I'll even watch the Disney channel with Dude and Eye.
I have a growing need to fall off my chair in attempts to tell cousins that I love them, I want to eat chips with my bestfriends while we watch quoatable movies like Star Trek and The Count of Monte Cristo.
I've stopped being afraid of people and now I can't stop reaching out. I need to hear their opinions on crisp fall days, on the ratio of people sitting on the left side of the room vs the right side. I want to hear about the memoirs you're going to write about teenage drama or about all of the knowledge you've collected but has yet to serve you in any professional manner. I must hear people tell me about the millions of majors they've pondered choosing and how they've been transcribing and keeping a log of all of their texts as a sort of social and personal history.

I need people.

So my plan that as I got older I would become more independent has never been realized. The net result of my life (in no economic or literal definition of the term "net", it was just something to say) is that I am continually growing more dependent on the people in my life. So, in other words, if I were Jericho, I'd need you to be the scafolding bracing up my walls. Or you're my suspenders. Or you're my Bonnie and I'm Clyde. You're peanut butter and I'm jelly. And the bread would symbolize my favorite food: bread. Hmm...metaphors....



*The Golddiggers of 1933. A funny movie. And yet...Proof that even in 1933 media was scandalous it was just less popular to be as graphic and visceral as "media is today". Just a friendly reminder that when you want to complain (to me) about "the media today" you should can it. Because I love media. It will be my profession.