Utili-kilts...

(Written yesterday on an airplane with 2 hours of sleep- that's my excuse)

So I’m on a flight heading back to Utah and I’m about in tears. Chances are that it has to do with a combination of my eating like crap for the past two weeks, sleeping for just 2 hours last night, and hating Utah. I try to forget how much I love Seattle while I’m in Provo. When flying out of the SLC Airport, I saw a shot glass and a flask that said ‘eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow you may be in Utah.’ Though I don’t drink, I think this was a rather appropriate sentiment. Two weeks ago we flew into Seattle and got off of the flight and were greeted by a man standing there in a ‘utili-kilt.’ (Ok, we weren’t really greeted by him, but he was standing right outside our gate.) I do love a good utili-kilt. Actually, it’s not that I think they are attractive, or whatever, just that I appreciate living in a place where it is normal to see a man wearing a skirt - albeit a very manly skirt. I love the freedom to be me, the fact that people know me there. I miss that in Utah. When I was at home last year, I could be me, but now I’m in Provo, I was talking to a friend and he said ‘we are among the most beautiful and accomplished Mormon population.’ Unfortunately being among those kind of people seems to make me feel like the least of them. I’ve got a full 12 months left in Utah. 4 months now. 8 months next school year then graduation and I’m getting out of there. I am so blessed to have sisters. Having them in Utah makes life bearable. I have a place to escape to.

Back on the drinking line—This morning I Dad woke me up at 10 to 7. Some guy tried to blow up another plane so they’ve tightened security a bit (I even got patted down), so we had to be at the airport early. Anyway. I went to bed at probably 4:10 so I got like 2 ½ hours of sleep last night. I think that’s what a hangover feels like. I also ate a ton of crap last night—making me feel even sicker. Once on the ground in SL,UT (hahaha) I’m done w/ sugar and flour (again). Rachel and I decided that if we were going to feel this crappy we might as well start drinking—ok, maybe not.