Okay, last entry=weird.

In class tonight, our teacher had us do some writing. Here's what came out. But first, there's a girl who sits in front of me in class. Her fat rolls usually drape over her jeans, but today, her jeans were so low I could see her butt crack. There's a time to keep silent, and a time to speak up, and this was perhaps a speaking up moment. I bet you already know I didn't say a word. I just averted my eyes all class period long. I mean, she sat directly in front of me. Yikes. Anyway, on to the writing assignment::

What was it about that trip to Reno that was so significant? I keep coming back to it, writing poems about it, thinking about it; wondering what it was all about. Reno is a city that sounds like it's going to be exciting--it's the biggest little city in the world. But then you get there and see a run-down Circus-Circus and a couple of other casinos that frankly look pathetic, and other than that it's just a little city; a lot like any other in Nevada--not too pretty to look at.

I was a sophomore in college at the time, having just moved from the dorms into an apartment. I had moved beyond the helplessness of being a freshman and into the big time. Add to that my homesickness for a boyfriend who was literally half a world away from me at the time, and you've got yourself the classic story of girl pining away for her lover.

Except I wasn't pining; at least not for him. What I really wanted was some stability in my life. The flooring of my childhood had been torn from me, and I had not yet built anything below me to stand on. What could I believe in? What was I meant to do with my life? Serious questions that I didn't want to deal with.

Then the opportunity came for me to fly to Reno and meet up with my family to watch my sister play volleyball in the high school state tournament. My first flight alone. I felt so cosmopolitan, even though flying from the Salt Lake City airport and arriving to meet a worried parent didn't exactly inspire cosmopolitan thoughts.

The weekend was good. Nothing prepared me for the moment outside the high school in Reno, though. It happened between games. My mom, dad, brother, and me went outside for some air. Snow covered the ground and kept coming down. I spontaneously fell backward and made a snow angel. Looking up at my parents, moving my arms and legs, I was suddenly overcome by the moment. Time stopped. It was no longer important what I majored in or who I was. I was there, in that moment, and that's all that mattered. In the poem I later wrote, I said I could see the city lights glittering in the background as I lay in the snow, but that was untrue. The moment was too pure for that. It didn't need anything beyond what it was: me, lost in a moment of pure joy.

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And here's the poem that started it all. I hope the formatting doesn't change.Yes, in fact, the format did change. Just take my word for it that it looks better than this.:

RENO

I fall down
Enveloped by the cold white powder
Everyone watching, smiling
Laughing as
I flap my arms
Move my legs
Ridiculous dying bird.
Seconds pass
I look up at the winking neon lights
And wish
The moment would last
And I could stay forever.
But now I am gone
And all that's left
Of the moment is a
Pristine snow angel
With perfect wings lying
In a high school lawn
In wintry Reno.

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