One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel.  (Doctor Who, 'The Girl in the Fireplace')

You know, I am so constantly outwitting the opposition, I tend to forget the delight and satisfaction of the arts... the gentle art of fisticuffs.

The Doctor

There is no indignity in being afraid to die, but there is a terrible shame in being afraid to live. -Alydon, king of the Daleks

Over Memorial Day Weekend I got to go to Moab with the Environmental Club at my school. About 15 students, 3 teachers and 2 chaperones drove down on Friday night. We got down there at about 11:00 at night, in the Pouring Rain. It took us about 3 hours to get up our tent (till a friendly Eagle Scout took pity on us and did it for us. The advisors were sleeping). We hiked up to Delicate Arch, then went to Landscape Arch. On our way to Navajo Arch, however, one of the weekend's famous Flash Floods got us stranded at the top of a canyon. To get to Navajo we had to climb over a slick, steep rock, dropping off on either sides to Slot Canyons. It was Terrifying. Once we got the the top, the rain and lightning started. We hid in a cave till we decided to just brave it out. (Probably a bad idea, but the advisors went back to the van when the rain started). Climbing back down the slick, steep, and now muddy, bit of mountain was probably really dangerous. But it was cold and we kinda wanted to go sit in the vans.... No one was seriosly injured though! Then we went to 2 more Arches that I was too wet to remember the names of :) More of the same on Sunday (our river rafting was cancelled due to the sudden rise in water levels). Our tent, once a grand 9-man beast, is now a tame kitten. The constant rain and wind blew so much sand into absolutley EVERYTHING. Every crease in my clothes and gear was filled in with red iron (read: staining) Moab dirt. Part of the experiance, I suppose. We saw a lot of really cool Rock Art. A lot of it was 'marred' by graffitti. I think it only adds to the interest value. In so many years, no one will be able to tell which is Indian and which is graffitti. For all we know, all the Rock Art is was really just graffitti. It interests me. Also the realization that Gay Whipple looked at the very same thing I was seeing here in 2009 that he saw in 1902. Those things are OLD. I really, really enjoyed Monday, though (well, I enjoyed the whole trip very much. But Monday was the bestest). We went to a ghost town called Thomson Springs. It was a railroad town till the 1950's when the highway was built. The impact was so devatating to the town's economy that it was abondoned almost immediatly. We were able to explore about 6 empty, deserted houses still filled with furniture as though they family just stepped out (the years were evident, but created a very, very eery effect.). I'll post pictures as soon as they are done uploading (I took over 10 GIGs of pictures on the trip. That's a lot.). We were also able to rummage through the old Thompson Springs Motel. That was FREAKY! The houses we visited looked full of ghosts; the kind of benign spirits that simply haven't realized they've moved on. The Motel felt full of angry, bitter ghosts. Vandels had filled the place with threats, pleas and warnings that really freaked me out. We all had to travel in pairs in that building. The 8 rooms were all the same- a toilet, closet and easy chair and curtains. It was pretty evident that squaters came here often. At the end of the building, though, was the really scary part. It must have been the owner's home. There was an office full of furniture that looked in too good repair to belong with the rest of the rooms (the squaters and vandels had avoided here), but the graffitti was the worst. Big, glaring words like 'I died here' with big arrows, or 'Get out of my home'- all stuff I know teenagers did, but still gave me terrible goosebumps. Once passed the office was a kitchen. In life, it must have looked like the all-American white-picket kitchen girls all want. The creepy part came with the refridgorator filled with old, decayed food, the dishes in the cupboards and children's painted handprints on the wall. The mudroom was filled with gardening tools and children's ice skates and rocking horses. It was one of the very most terrifying, interesting places I have ever been. The last place we visited was Sego, a ghost town further up the canyon. We were disapointed to find that the perfectly preserved town had been burned down by treasure-hunters in the 1950's. All that was left was the boarding house haging on by the very last, breaking threads (we couldn't go in there- only slats and boards remained. And some kinda creepy blue wallpaper and lace curtains- why had those survived? I don't know. The drive home brought lots of stories of lost love and broken promises- ah, imagination :) ). We did find the shell of an old car (much new than would have been here when the town was left (1890's), more 1950's). It was Bullet holes going IN and OUT of the shell. One of the teachers evaluated that while some of the shots going Into the car were made more recently (I hate vandels, man) that the car must have been abanded after a shoot-out (shoot at the people IN the car, and by the people in the car out at the attackers). This brought new stories of Bonnie and Clyde and diamond theives. Very Fun!

The end of the year is here, and for some reason this year, instead of being filled with the pre-summer excitement and pre-mature senioritis, is jumbled with apprehension for the year to come. I am faced with the ridiculously daunting task of finding a summer job at this particular moment. No one seems to be hiring high school student right now (thank you, financial crisis!). I am also facing some guilt there- I know I need money. But do I really? So many adults are being layed off these days, should I be looking for a job that could go to someone that really needed it, someone that needs to support themselves or a family, just for gas money? I don't really need to go out to lunch everyday, or buy a bunch of new clothes and stuff. (I had an experiance at my old job: I worked in a pizza place where only about 3 people were employed at a time. At the begining of my time there the employees were 1) me, 2) my brother saving for a mission, and 3) a young student from out of state working 3 jobs to put himself through college. After my brother left a man was hired that had been laid off at his previous job that he'd held for 15 years. I don't need money that badly. Maybe I'm being selfish.
But then, am I being selfish not having a job? I can't really expect my parents to cover for me for forever. I'll run out of money eventually. Inner dilema! aaachk.
just to add to this little coctail of stress-induced stomach acids going on here, next year I will have no time whatsoever. But lots of monetary needs. I made Ambassadors Officer (a student leadership group), Key Club Officer (a service club), and Orchestra President. Plus FBLA and Shades Editor (a literary magazine). That's $500 in club dues and jacket payments already! Not even including the Orchestra class trip to San Fransisco (another $500) or the Environmental Club trip ($100) or the Key Club convention ($150). These numbers are making my hands shake. I'd better get off while I can still tsasdyasdfpe

I went to LHS's Prom on April 18th- the theme was 'All That I Am'. I had so much fun! For our day date we went to a stake center and played glow-in-the-dark dogdeball and steal the flag. That was awesome! We had pizza then decked out the gym in glowsticks. I think my team lost every game we played. haha- nothing to do with me! We even had extra players... After that we the boys took us home to get all prettied up (took about 3 hours). My mom and sister put curlers in my wet hair. When they came out I looked like a porcelien doll. Combined with my dress that made me look like a 12-year-old going to her Christmas recital, I was a little worried. When I took some stuff to my neighbor's for dinner, she teased it up a little so the curls weren't perfect ringlets. I really wanted a 1940's-ish look, but it didn't really turn out like that. More 1980's. Tanner picket me up half and hour early (he told me he'd actually come 15 minuets before that, but had parked at the end of my street so as not to be sooo early...) We went over to dinner 15 minuets early. We had dinner at my neighbor's house, who's son was also going to Prom with us. This is us at dinner: I am the 2nd on the left, with my date sitting on my right. Dinner was awesome! The girl in pink making a funny face made this awesome cake- here she is with it- . We took some pictures: the girls- and the guys- Not sure what is going on... silly boys. This is me and my date before we left. I had a super-great time. The only downside was when, at the end of the night, the gal that made the cake passed out at the dance. She was taken to the hospital and left us all pretty shaken up. She was released the next day, but the are still doing tests to find out what is wrong. Other than that, it was great!