Live from Sun City---The News

8:28 AM

I get feverish when I'm really into something. Crazy, even. I can't break my focus, not for food, not for sleep, never. I'm just on board with freakin' handcuffs until I've either finished the task (and become consequently disillusioned) or just get bored. I have an obsessive personality.
 
Right now, it's the Arizona skyline that's got me captivated. I just cannot get enough.
 




 
Where else is the sky so blue?
After successfully surviving another Michigan January/February gray season, I guess I forgot how imperative sun is to normal human happiness.
 
But then again, I've always been a sucker for a good sunset.
 


 
The sky is an entirely different thing here, on this side of the United States.
In Michigan, I'm used to a sky filled with pinks and oranges, but in Arizona, you get stark lemon yellow. It's tucked to bed by a heavy navy blue. It's incredible and and it's such a reminder that I live in this one small place that is so much the same, but so much different, than everywhere else in the world. Travel is education, and education is, I think, the single most important thing a person can accrue. All I want to do is see it all.
 
I cannot get enough.
****
 
So, you know how sometimes you think you've finally got it figured out? Maybe not all of it, but some of it, and that's enough. But then something comes along to wreck it all. Lady, you know nothing. Nothing.
 
Remember last week, when I waxed cheesy and nostalgic on the shared misery of high school? I wallowed deep in the memories of a constant feeling of peer observation and insecurity. I stand by those thoughts, they were real and they sucked. That part of high school blows considerably. But I forgot about the part about making friends and being silly and carefree.
 
Two things happened on Sunday to remind me. First, I was cruising the grocery store with Ryan's mother and repeatedly I saw a girl, with her friend, dancing feverishly (I bet it's her obsession right now) through the aisles. The girls giggled and when they stood still, they were clumsy and I felt their youthful lack of total confidence. And I remembered being fourteen and hanging out with my best friend and the way we just didn't care....so long as we were together. And those memories are good.
 
Later, stuck in traffic, a car pulled up next to us at a stop light. Taylor Swift blared from the speakers, so loud I could have sung along and not heard myself. I didn't have to though, because the girls inside were screaming along. They laughed and so did I, because I remembered being that age. I remembered belting out "Numa Numa Yea" in my friend's huge white suburban. And those are my favorite memories. Those people, even if they weren't still my best friends, I'd preserve those memories and they'd be freakin' golden.
 
You think you know something, and Life (capital L, noun. It's a person, I'm sure--it's so vindictive sometimes) throws a waterballoon in your face and laughs. NOPE!.
****
 
In other news, Ryan and I climbed a mountain yesterday. To be fair and honest, they're technically hills, but to me, they're mountains. I'm from Michigan anything that takes longer than fifteen minutes to climb is a bonafide mountain in my book.
 

 
Ryan hoofed it like he was born in the moutains. In sandels.





 
 
Those look like mountains to me.
Oh and see those freckles in the skyline, just over the mountain peaks? Those are a fleet of hot air balloons.
 
There were about a gazillion of them.
 
 
****
 
Anyway, happy Tuesday!
 
 
 
 
 

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