Into the Wild Green Yonder

So, this summer I worked a lot.  Like that's all I did.  I mean besides working out.

Okay, that sentence wasn't entirely factual.  What it really should have said was, during the day, all I did was work, work out, and do SATs.  However, during the night I filled it with people I find amusing, namely a certain girl with carrot colored hair who I've been best friends with since before I can remember.  And you know, others.  Actually I was really proud of myself this summer because I was almost never home, I was either working or running or at school lifting or at the Lanser's doing math.  Or, I was at the movies, in burlington, swimming, or frequenting the Asiana noodle house because that place is the best thing to happen since the invention of leggings (if I've never told you I hate jeans during the winter with a passion, and people actually get surprised when they see me wearing them).

But anyways, I've gotten to know myself pretty well during the course of this summer, mainly because i spent so much time talking to other people, and formulating my opinions.  On, oh lets say, everything and anything.  But what I've come to realize is that I'm really weird.  like, I'm not as out there as some other people, but once you really get to know me, I'm weird.  And I'm much more okay with this situation than I thought I'd be.  Yeah, I'm the girl who watches Doctor Who and avidly discusses it with another enthusiast who wears a TARDIS hat, you know who you are, and I still think Ozzy is better than Amy.  So there.  I'm also the girl who would rather watch the show Girls with my friend than go out and go partying.  I'm the girl who loves being witty, who loves dirty jokes and chairlift conversations about sex.  I'm also the girl who is terrified of sex and boys and the world.  I contradict myself, I embrace life and at the same time I hate it.  I am the girl who spent the last three days not eating and puking and I'm the girl who frequently falls when walking.  I'm that girl who puts sunglasses on her cat, takes pictures of it and then puts in on Instagram.  I'm weird and I'm funny and I'm quiet and I'm loud and I love it.  And every day, I'm learning to love it more.

I know I've struggled with hating myself, and I do have the occasional bad day, or bad week.  But I feel like I'm finally okay admitting to the world that I'm really weird, and you can like it and thats great, snaps to you, and you can not like it and thats great, snaps to you too.

And thats about it.

"The way is clear, the light is good.  Into the woods"

In other news, Miley Cyrus has gone full tilt, and I can't decide whether I think it's hilarious or just tragic.
Both my roommate and Ellie called me funny, which I'm still dying over because they're both hilarious, so yeah that was the high point of my week.

Words Of Wisdom

So, I'm in Chile.  Anyways, my dad has been sending me emails, mostly to comfort himself, but probably also to comfort me.  Also to tell me that my grandmother is still alive because she had open heart surgery, and to tell some scary stories about the ICU and my uncle.  Anyways, I have probably told you, but when my dad is in a good mood, and feeling philosophical and not at all pompous, I love to listen to him talk.  He doles out life advice, tells jokes, gives insight on events and just generally makes me feel like a good human being.  But his most recent email made me really really sad.  

Both of us are kind of of the same belief, death is inevitable and isn't something to fret over.  You can obviously be sad about it, and about the fact that you are leaving behind the world we live in, but it will come and there is nothing a person can do about it.  

In his email, he told me about the waiting room in the ICU, how there were these little knots of people, almost like their own communities, waiting for news of their loved ones fate.  And he said that when he went out to get himself and my great uncle a soda, after having talked to my grandma's surgeon and determining that she was alright, he saw a little community come screaming out of the room.  And when he said screaming, he literally meant screaming.  Like these little kids were throwing themselves on the floor and these women were pounding walls and this man just kept yelling and yelling.  He said it made him cry.  

But he also said it made him think of me and my brother, and how much he misses us already and how much he loves us.  He said he thought how one day we would be the ones screaming down the halls, and while it made him really sad it also reminded him of the love that exists in our world.  And then he told us how much he loved us again, and he gave us a little tip and signed it, love, pop.

He's a really good guy, and an even better dad.  And I'm really lucky he's willing to share his feelings and his thoughts and his love with me.  It makes me really happy, but it makes me dread the day that I have to walk down the hall, crying and pounding my fists against the wall.  It's alright though.  Because death is inevitable.

"We all stand in the mountainous shadow of our mortality so get the most of what you can while you can."  

On and On and Beyond

In the past few weeks, I've done little other than school, Mountain biking, and strength.  Well, that isn't true but those three are the most prevalent.  Anyways, the first time I went mountain biking kind of soured me on it for a while. I remember thinking I was finally done with the hard parts when we got to the top of tlb, that the ride was just going to be easy cruising from here on out.  Because how hard could going downhill be right?  Wrong, very, very wrong.  So, at the top, Steve told me just to keep my feet even on the pedals, lift my butt off the seat, and I'd be a-okay.  Well, I did that, went top speed, and crashed into a tree and sprained my ankle, and ripped my pants.  I then had to ride all the way up Bragg Hill because Cindy didn't believe me when I said that yes, it did felt like I'd broken my ankle.

When we got back to school and I went to PT, Evita told me that my ankle was three times the size it was supposed to be, it was already bruising and that I wasn't allowed to walk on it for a few days.  Cue my first experience with crutches.  And I was extremely mad at Cindy because Evita told me that if I hadn't had to bike up Bragg it wouldn't have been half as bad.  I think I went Mountain Biking once that year, after that first time.  I hated it, and walked my bike all the way down.

The next fall, we went mountain biking once on tlb, and it went fine, I only sprained my ankle, but not badly, and I finally went down a hill and over a tree.  I was ecstatic, believing I was now a professional mountain biker.  Again, I was so very wrong.  Because that spring, when Ben and Mikki took us mountain biking in Randolph, or somewhere near there, misfortune fell upon my head like a two ton brick wall.

We had finally biked all the way to the top of the last hill, over what felt like miles and miles of shale and never-ending incline.  I was tired, hot, and annoyed that Ben had made me work this hard, but, nonetheless was excited for the downhill, because those trails we all man made, and had little trees or rocks to bumps into, and were wide and almost clear cut.  It was ideal.  I think it was maybe the first or second hill we went down, after taking a group picture at the top, talking about the play for the next year, and Katie Campbell's impending knee surgery, when I fell.  I mean, I got a little over-confident and started flying, flying, down the shale and when Ana stopped because she was scared, I did the thing you are never, ever, ever supposed to do.  I pushed the front brakes, and only the front brakes.  And I flipped over my handlebars, my bike leaving gear marks and tire skids all over my clothes, face and legs.  I then slid, headfirst, into the bank my bike had already found.  I sat there, for a good minute, trying to understand what had happened, why I couldn't breathe, and what was going on.  I tried to unclip my helmet, but as I felt the top of it, I knew that wouldn't have really done much.  I'd split my helmet.  like, almost clearly in two.  And I could hear a girls voice yelling, I think it was something like, "MIKKI! Katy's dead!!"  I tried to call out, to tell this frightened person I was fine, but I couldn't speak.
So I waited until the air returned to my lungs and picked myself up, meeting Mikki's and Mika's and Ana's eyes.  I was quite embarrassed, and they were probably worried.  I walked my bike down, all the way, after all the girls had gone by, crying.  And I didn't mountain bike for a while after that.  Wonder why.

Anyways, this past summer, and even these past few weeks, I've really improved my mountain biking. I mean, I can almost keep up with Kara and Nate, and for those of you who don't understand what a big deal that is, its a big deal for me.  Because I can finally, finally, push myself hard going down those hills.

Anyways that wasn't really relevant to anything but i liked the story.  I'm going to Chile tomorrow.  This week was an emotional rollercoaster.  Last night was a very good night, and today would have been a very good day if life hadn't gotten in the way, as life tends to.  It's fine.  It's always fine.

Gazelles and Purple Elephants:

The words are so loud in my head I wonder how they don't break out
Running towards the horizon like the heard of wild animals they are
And the sun eclipses them and they are heard
And someone can finally, finally understand
finally stand under the sun with me
And I can pass the baton to someone else
like I did with the purple elephant that day in the hospital
When she was still so tiny and new
That day I said the words and didn't know what they meant
And I still don't know what they mean
But now all I can see are the stars
My skin still warm from the sun
And the hope that came along with it
Before I stepped on that plane and flew away from the sun
Whose warmth felt everlasting
There were no words running then
I wonder if they will ever be truly free
And as I've always done I kept running
I jumped in the train and let it take me
Every time it jolted on the rails I pretended it didn't hurt
But it did
And I'm still waiting for the train to crash
And the animals and heards to escape
And I can finally, finally stand under the sun
And someone can finally understand what those words mean
What I mean
And someone can finally know all the things I know
And I will stand in the sun
Letting it totally and completely eclipse me
As if I never was there
And had always known its warmth