It was about 3:57. That struck me as ridiculous. I started to laugh when I woke up because I've already hit School's Out for the Summer mentality, and yet, school is not quite out for the summer.

At some point, and I don't really remember because I was in a half-asleep haze, I rolled out of bed. I think it was to turn off this horrifyingly tacky singing Christmas trout thing my dad got at a garage sale because my sister liked it. It's activated by motion and, because of how close it is to a window, goes off whenever a cloud passes over. The weather in the last couple of days has been somewhat overcast, so this happened about four times this morning and at about 3:57 I just couldn't stand it anymore, so I resolved I was going to get up and turn that stupid motherfucker off.

Once I was up, I managed to successfully do absolutely nothing except put on pants and brush my teeth for the next hour. It occurred to me that I should eat some lunch or something, but I went through our cabinets and the fridge and the little food we did have was in no way appealing, so I returned to doing nothing.

I took a much-needed trip to the grocery store later on, and I was trying to economize when I realized that in a couple of months I would be on one of those awful meal plan things that people end up on when they go to college, and while I guess it may not be as terrible as it sounds I thought I'd spend as much money as I could on things that could be considered healthy. It's unfair that healthier food is usually more expensive, but whatever. I was going to eat the expensive and healthy stuff, so as to attempt to negate the four years of poor nourishment that are sure to come my way. Possibly more. (I would've made fun of you four years ago if you'd told me I would go for a master's, but now the idea doesn't seem so ridiculous anymore.)

But then I got home and had all this food that was kind of good for me and was dreadfully disappointed when I realized all I really wanted was some Vermonty Python.

There is a fire burning down part of a mountain. I know that's not a good thing but it's usually pretty difficult to feel sympathy for a mountain. It's not really going to burn it down. It can burn of the trees and make it a generally unpleasant place to visit, but something I learned about brush fires on mountains last year is that they are one of the least destructive forms of mass destruction that there are. I mean, hundreds and hundreds of acres of trees and such burned down, but it didn't really leave the soil depleted and the places up there that did get ruined--almost all of them owned by people who were certainly not eaten out of house by destruction of their log cabins (roughing it and slumming it out in the wild, and then nipping over to the restaurant for a slice of pie...it's good to be rich)--all got rebuilt with insurance money about twice as nicely as they were in the first place. And the pie place is still there, which is the only reason I ever go up there. (Like Mt. Rushmore, there are probably only so many times you can go to a place and appreciate its looks, but a girl can always appreciate some good pie.)

A fire raged for weeks, and all that died were a few trees, and there are already new ones sprouting to take their places.

Where else in the world could that happen?

An interesting thing I learned today is that Arizona is home to about a half of a fundamentalist LDS compound, which basically means that many of them are polygamists. I actually first learned this a few weeks ago, but then I forgot about it. Then I checked it out again and apparently lots of the fun ideas on Big Love (ah, HBO, how I will miss you) are based on it. It used to be called Short Creek (Juniper Creek)...I mean that's just one thing, I'm too lazy to go back and look up all the names and such. It's just kind of strange to discover I've lived in this state for so long and I never knew about this pretty big place where polygamy is a common practice. Loving sensationalism despite myself, I checked on livejournal for people who lived in the place and found a couple of dilapidated journals, one of which almost, but not entirely, mentioned the subject. I thought that was pretty exciting. (It was pretty ambiguous and would've been confusing if you didn't know Short Creek was initially founded by a couple of guys who wanted a place where they could practice polygamy in peace. But I do, so it was pretty awesome to read.)

Apparently writing about my day isn't quite so fun anymore. Maybe I've gotten more boring. Actually today was unbearably dull. I can't imagine anyone should wish to read this entry.

And yet, I looked and something like 160 of you still have me on your buddy lists. Most of you probably only do because you stopped updating, too, but seriously, if not, why am I still on your list? Seriously? It's been a year since the last time I updated!

I guess it's kind of cool, though, that I started this thing at age 13 in 7th grade, and now I'm 18, can legally marry anyone I'd like to marry, and am graduating on Wednesday.