I'm a Lost Boy

It's been two weeks since my grandmother left us.

I spent the afternoon sorting through boxes of my past, and picking through my life. Change hurts. I realized, peering into my childhood face picture after picture, that my world has been mostly unchanged until this point. We've moved a few times, I've grown {a little} out of old shoes, and my favorite color is no longer purple, but the people I've known and the life I've loved has pretty much progressed only through hundreds of meals and many discoveries.

Now my world is changing.

Soon {maybe} my siblings and I will get married, have children, and disperse to far away lands. And loved ones even die.

I used to hate when people would mistake me for being younger than I am {still happens--still hate it}, but I've recently learned growing up hurts.

My mom broke down under the weight of her load today, and I got lost in a picture of me as a toddler--chubby-faced and happy. Then I broke down. First I locked myself in the bathroom. Then I curled up in the dark corner of my brother's bed and cried some more.

I had this aching desire to be a kid again, to just go back to the way things were when the worst thing in my life was cleaning my room.

But I can't.

I need to grow up.

I need {am supposed} to get a job, be responsible, wear a nice face all the time.

I just don't know if I'm ready.

Or maybe I'm just scared.

I miss you Grandma.

This Made Me Giggle

"I have a lot of other great qualities as well"

Have a Great Day.

Do Flies Vomit Every Time They Land?

One day, someone told me flies vomit every time they land.

Instantly, all the times flies had ever landed on my food, person or area of living whirled together in my mind to create one big pile of fly puke.

Sick.

I thought of this every time I saw a fly. I thought of this many times I didn't see a fly, wondering if fly vomit graced the presence of my food as it traveled from my fork to my mouth.

So I did some fact checking.

Flies don't vomit. But they do salivate.

Flies have little nutrient-detectors in their feet that cause them to salivate any time they land on something food-like. Their saliva doesn't in fact carry the germs I was so distraught about (although it's still fairly disgusting to think of fly salivation-grossness all over my food); however, their nutrition-detecting feet do carry germs from the poop on which they previously landed.

Sick.

Source 1 and 2

Possibilities

The world is open to me.

Have you ever felt

that rush of opportunity

that rides in on the

morning breeze?

I've felt so old and closed off recently.

Walls are coming down.

Today was fresh.

I feel as though I'm at a beginning again, not an end.

Times with Tabitha

The strap of my bra fell off my shoulder and hung below my sleeve. I complained it was as tight as possible and still wouldn't fit snuggly enough to stay up.

"Just put socks in your bra--that's how I get it to stay up."

-My 7 year old sister.

Times with Tabitha

"Anna, I think it's kind of weird you have a boyfriend at your age. You're so old, you should be married."

-My 7 year old sister.

Just Different

Somehow, I've changed.

And so has the world.

It's all just a bit different.

Maybe more than "a bit."

I Dream

Of sunshine pouring through the window, riding a light breeze filled with the laughter of my children. I'm sitting on the couch next to my mother, cookies in the oven, working on my hardanger skills.

Of walking down the village streets of India and running my fingers over yards of the most brilliantly colored fabric. I close my eyes and try to sort through the many fragrances that wrap my senses.

Of winter afternoon whiteouts, safe at home. I curl up in a blanket and drift in and out of gloriously imaginative pages of swashbuckling, dark, and romantic novels and the sleepy-wakefullness of an early morning.

Of reasons to get ridiculously gussied up. I put perfume on for the third time breathe deeply as I shake my head back and forth--my long earrings and golden locks brush my shoulders in an ever-so-gentle manner as the scent recalls a lifetime of memories.

Of a zebra kicking up dust across the African Savanna with tips of golden grain chasing his heels. I carefully select the right lens before capturing a perfect image.

Of taking a very small grandchild to the theater. We both giggle in excitement.

Of late nights with him. I would just lay with his arms around me--the most secure feeling in the world--as he ran his fingers through my hair.

I dream.

Times with Tabitha

"If Bella bit Edward, would he become human?"

-My 7 year old sister.

That One Thing

Everyone has a past.

No one is perfect.

Skeletons in the closet.

Times with Tabitha

While on the way to the store my mom says, "I think I'll stop off at the D.I. before we go to the grocery store."

(Mind you, Tabitha is already in the car on the way to the store with my mother.)

"Mom! Mom! Can I come too?"

- My 7 year old sister

There is a Hole in my Heart

While running my fingers over her gold necklace and listening to the muffled sobs of my grandpa, in Grandma's memory, I wrote her this obituary:

Anita Louise Pritt was born May 1, 1942 to Charlie and Louise Voeltz, and passed away at her home August 17, 2010. She married her best friend and the biggest adventure of her life, Robert Eldon Pritt, on September 14, 1964 in the Salt Lake City, Utah Temple.

Anita loved life, and spent her days searching for laughs and seeking to share her love. Willing to try anything from back packing the Washington coast, ATV riding around her property in Duchesne, or trying to keep up with her grandchildren running around New York, she was always excited to go and do as fast as she could—also evident in “Lead Foot Hannah’s” speedometer. Family was always Anita’s priority, from days absorbed in genealogy work to the creation of her own legacy showing unconditional love to her husband, children and grandchildren.

She was always active in her church and willingly served as often as she could. She enjoyed her work in the Lab, fishing on the lake, and sneaking in a midnight game of poker.

Anita is survived by her husband, Robert; daughter, Kimberly Staker (Mark); Son, David (Jennifer); Son, Joel; Mother, Louise Voeltz; Sister, Nedra Robins; 18 grandchildren; and lots of cousins, nieces, and nephews. She was preceded in death by her father, Charlie Voeltz.
We all love her dearly and miss her greatly. She filled our lives with love and happiness.

A viewing will be held Friday, August 20, 2010 at Larkin Mortuary, 260 E. South Temple, SLC, Ut. from 6pm-7:30.Funeral services will be held Saturday, August 21, 2010 at the West Bountiful chapel, 1750 N. 900 W., West Bountiful, Ut. at noon.

I Miss You So Much.

I Love You.

Times with Tabitha

"Open accessories! I mean, open x-says-me!"

-My 7 year old sister

Verbal Vomit

I used to use this blog for venting purposes, then people actually started reading. I screened and filtered as necessary, and then I just cut the complaints completely. Well, not anymore. I'm a complainer, I'll admit it. I'm not a whiner, please don't get them confused. I merely speak my mind about any discomfort I am feeling so those around me may feel inclined to improve my circumstances. I need some complaining time.

1. I hate mosquitoes!

I know, I know, without them the food chain will collapse, and I'd be sorry, and yadda, yadda. But seriously, I think I'm willing to make that sacrifice. My poor toes have OVER TEN mosquito bites--TEN! I'm afraid I just might have to cut my feet off in the next few days if the itching doesn't stop soon.

2. When someone emails you, a response would be nice.

A timely response, especially when the contents contains, oh, the dictates of your entire future, would be much appreciated. I have been waiting for four very important emails for a few weeks now! I can't wait any longer!

3. Why can't I understand my own desires?

I feel like I'm all over the place these days--maybe because I am. Sometimes I want something so badly it hurts, and other times I can be so flippant. Why do my body and spirit fight each other? I wish everyone inside of me would just calm down and breath and let me and time figure things out.

4. Some people get money and big houses and others don't.

I hate that money is such a big issue in the world. Maybe I hate that I don't have any. I can't decide whether or not I believe really, really rich people can be nice, down-to-earth individuals or not. I hope so, because I've decided money is nice but only if the people can be nice too. I wish my parents didn't have to worry about money.

5. Why do people and things and ideas have to become old?

I don't like this whole concept of death, I've decided. Or rather, the process of becoming old and dying. I suppose the actual transition from this world to the next can be a very lovely thing, but the time from age, oh, I don't know, 35 until 80-ish--roughly speaking--that whole dying time, not so bueno. I don't want to feel old. I don't want my back to hurt, and my hips to give out, and my sight to fade, and my mind to slip. Why can't we all just twinkle on our 102nd half birthdays and call it good? I used to love wrinkles. I told myself that accomplished people had wrinkles. But now I just don't think I'm quite as fond of them--on me that is.

6. I don't understand why we have to crave that which we can't have.

The forbidden is so appealing. The unknown is so appealing. The excitement and the hype and the anticipation create such disappointment. Sugar makes us fat, sin makes us sad, and wedding night sex (so I've heard) isn't all it's cracked up to be. I mean, even all this growing up and graduating from college stuff isn't as supreme as we were tricked into believing.

7. I accumulate stuff.

I wish that I could feel less sentimental about everything I owe. Trying to clean through my life creates two piles--the stuff that used to mean a lot, and the stuff that could mean something if I just hold onto it for a wee bit longer. I'm ready to just close my eyes and chuck everything. My library already fills several crates. Moving, which is inevitably going to happen in my future several times, is going to be so difficult. And I can only imagine I'll accumulate more books, and stuff.

PHEW. I can stop there.

Sorry to puke all over you like that, but the churning stomach can't calm until you let it all out.

Times with Tabitha

"If you stack tons of tons of magnifying glasses on top of each other, can you see germs?"

- My 7 year old sister.

Change

It's feeling lost in your own skin.

I feel so helpless right now.

And rather hopeless too.

What to do? Oh, what to do?

Times with Tabitha

"When you buy a new TV do you need to buy the shows to go in the TV or do they come inside already?"

- My 7 year old sister.

More Money?

National Geographic asked me to return and accept their job offer by mid-August.

I have no money, and I only just got home.

I didn't feel it was right for me at this time, and that my wage wouldn't work out to be very much after a plane ticket back out there and monthly rent in New York. The offer was very flattering, but I wanted more time with my family and boy before I picked up and headed back to the city.

So, I told National Geographic.

They understood completely.

And that's why they offered me another job that paid more money (lots more) and came with benefits and stability.

They said they really want me.

Dang.

Now what?

When My Mom Was My Age

- She had been married for 3 years.

- I was born.

- She moved across country (drove with a 2 year old and 5 day old).

- She had published a short story.

- She had long hair.

- She had lived in the North, East, South, and West parts of the country.

- Because of us children, she sacrificed her degree to move with my father and allow him to finish his PhD.

Today I turned 22. I feel so old. I can't believe 22 years ago today I was born by my 22 year old mother.

I Think They Liked Me

National Geographic just offered me a job.

A Positive Pick-me-up

If only we could start every morning like this...

Nostalgia

25 Years is a Long Time

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Goodbye, New York!

My mom came and picked me up from New York!

...meaning, I'm back!

My mom and her friend flew in on red.

So, of course, they took quite a nap after I picked them up from the subway.

Then we went to the MET.

My mom was SO excited to see the actual paintings of some of her favorite artists for the first time.

Wouldn't it be bliss to spend your afternoons painting pictures of paintings in the MET?

I think so.

Yeah... taking pics of the naked status to text to their husbands...

More excitement!

We searched all over for Madame X. Somehow we happened across a storage room and wandered through just to LUCKILY find Madame X in STORAGE!

This amazing sampler was stitched by a 14 year old!

And not only that, but she was experimenting and developing new stitches.

I want to do this!!!

After our sophisticated afternoon checking out the MET, we decided to take some time in my neighborhood. And here's what Harlem had to offer.

Bath salts anyone?

As part of our Harlem experience (besides watching my mom get surrounded by about 10 men with bongo drums and dreadlocks), we rocked out at the Apollo Theater!

My mom spent most of her subway time looking for rats.

She said she had to see one to feel her New York experience was complete.

My mom's friend wanted to go to the American Girls Doll store.

I sat around for about an hour before I went exploring and found these...

Doll hooks in the bathroom!

Of course! How would every little girl in that building carrying their doll use the potty if there weren't doll hooks?!

Every accessory imaginable for every spoiled child there.

WE SAW WICKED ON BROADWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A. M. A. Z. I. N. G.

My mom liked listening to my neighbors fighting in a cool African language.

She just so happened to listen in the dark bathroom while hiding behind the shampoo...

We took a gypsy cab to the air port, and I got my last look at the city.

We flew stand-by and there was little chance of getting out of New York the first few days, let alone catching our next stand-by transfer flight to actually get home to Utah.

However, in spite of our plans to sleep at the air port for three days, blessings upon blessings upon blessings got us on the first available flight!

And on the next!

We ended up getting home by 3am New York time, but it was all in one day!

All of my sisters took turns putting in a letter for our "Welcome Home" sign. However, someone apparently missed their turn in putting in the "e." And Grace said they got tired by the time they got to the coloring, so only the first letter got coloring.

But I'm home.

Back in Utah.

Things I've noticed in the few days I've been back:

-There are so many white people here.

-The sky is so big.

-It's really quiet at night.

-We can't "just walk"--anywhere.

-You don't have to wake up sweaty from the humidity.

-I had forgotten what stars look like.

-I lost 6 lbs. over the summer.

-I still hate Utah mosquitos.

Ready for adventure the next!