But. No. No. Productivity. Must be productive. Always productive!

My route to work after the weekend’s storm.

Life is lovely. In all honestly, I’m struggling with words. So much has occurred since I last wrote here, so much good, so much craze, so many random and thoughtful and ridiculous moments. How can I even attempt to sum it up in a silly blog post? Not to mention a quick, breezy blog post (despite this being a “mellow evening at home” I have a frantic list of things that should be accomplished before I attempt to sleep)?

Days pass easily. I’m more content then I have ever been. I keep waiting for something to slam into me, some great traumatic event to take place and swing me off my hinge. For years I have walked into each moment repeating, “You are happy, you are happy, you are fucking happy for fuck’s sake.” But now I just am. I am happy and my restless mantra is so unnecessary.

My jaw constantly aches. Perhaps I smile too much. Is that possible?

View from my Mini Cooper on the I-10 in route to Tucson, Arizona.

My psychology course is ridiculously intriguing. I flew to Utah and saw my family. I have yet to develop a senile hatred for my flatmates. My friends still seem to love me despite seeing me as often as they do. Driving in snow and ice and death is actually not as horrific as I expected. A good friend and I took a spontaneous roadtrip (literally planned six hours in advance) to southern Arizona and I got to hug my dear Hannah. I somehow managed to grab a job at an adorable independent coffeehouse in Manitou Springs (yes, where FIY takes place, yes, I pretend I serve espresso to Vincent everyday, yes, I’m crazy) where we have live music on frequent occassions and vegan cupcakes and HEMP (and almond and soy and regular) milk. I’m still writing, still revising (FIY), still breathing as I normally do.

Blurry family in Park City, Utah.

I have never been so alive. I have never been so productive. I have never been so excited to go to sleep at night just so I can wake up and start the new day. I always anticipated that Colorado would be a good choice of a move, that I would be happy here, but never to this extent, never to this grand of intensity.

Naturally everything isn’t all wonderful and dandy. There are faults and annoyances and minutes where I just want to scream at the cloudy sun. It’s reality. And it’s fragmented. But the fragments are what make the good things so blissful.

Today was good. It was good because I let it be.

And I wrote these 600 something words in these innocent few minutes and I’m sure this entire entry is scattered and cheesy and the usual Heather bullshit. But this is me. This is what makes sense in my head, what came from my fingers and out onto my keyboard. I’m here to remain.

Anyway. This is it. The end. Until March. And I’m closing comments. Not for any real reason. Comments just don’t feel necessary, you know? Email me if you feel compelled to respond to that question.

This is a quick post. Basically, just a hello and a good bye! For the next twelve days I’ll be traveling up and around California – hitting up the Yosemite, the American Fork River (hello river rafting), Napa Valley, the Redwood Forest and Humboldt County, San Francisco (hello old home!), Big Sur, and lastly, San Louis Obispo.

Will we survive 12 days straight together?

During this time I’ll be turning eighteen (August 9th), so be sure to send me some happy birthday vibes! Most likely, I won’t be posting again until I return from the road and before I depart for the skies (aka Seattle). I hope everyone has a beautiful start to their August!

Smile, smile, smile.

I always find it intriguing how holidays bring people together. Events like Independence Day are especially interesting to me.

My typically-empty neighborhood lake park area was transformed into a melting pot of friends and family, everyone joining together for a festival of music and laughter. Maybe I’m just cheesy (OK – I am), but it makes me spin when vast amounts of people unite in celebration. I didn’t even mind the plastic Orange County folk!

Just a tiny cluster of the large lake.

Anyhow, I’m just rambling. I’m off to go spend my last few days with my Quebecer (Quibecian? Je ne sais pas!) friend before she departs back to Canada. Don’t pass out in the summer heat!

Now, Madeline stood by the front door, arms folded against her chest and her face twisted in irritation. “Heather, the door’’s locked.”
I froze. “What?”
“Did you forget to turn off the fire-lock when you left the house?” She rolled her eyes.
“I didn’t even know the fire-lock was on!” I said, following her as she made her way to the garage and punched in the code. As the garage door rolled open, I shook my head. “Um, this way won”t work. All the doors are locked.”
“What do you mean all the doors are locked? We never lock any of the side doors! We never even lock the front door!” Madeline said, eyes wide.
“I lock the doors! Especially with just Grant and I home… I wanted us to be SAFE!”
She shook her head. “So, we’re locked out, and Grant’s probably still asleep…”
We both froze at the realization that our getting inside rested in the hands of our sneaky and evil little thirteen-year-old brother. Stepping out of the garage, we looked up at his bedroom window. The shutters were closed shut.

“GRANT!” I screamed. “GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANT! We’re locked out! LET US IN!”
The shutters remained shut. Muttering under my breath, I pulled my giant coin-filled wallet out of my bag. The first time I chucked it, the wallet merely hit the top of the garage. The second time it hit his window with a loud bang, and then landed on the window sill.

“Brilliant, Heather.” Maddie chuckled. “Real brilliant.”
“Oh, no…” I said, eyes wide, as the shutters slowly flipped open.

Then, still hiding his face from view, Grant slid the window up. Much to my horror, his long arm gradually snuck out from his room and snatched my wallet from the sill. And then, in one quick second, the window slammed down and the shutters shut.

“GRAAAAAAAAAAANT!” I bellowed, ignoring the glares from the two plastic OC women walking past my house. “If you take anything out of my wallet, you WILL be in MASSIVE TROUBLE!”
Hands on her hips, Maddie sighed. “Now what?”
“Um,” I paused. “Well, um… Fine! We’re going to STARBUCKS, Grant! Without you! BYE!”

Madeline and I ran back into the car, speeding to the little Albertson’s Starbucks. After moaning about our bedhead appearances and finding a bit of change in the glove department, we rushed inside. We returned to the car with three drinks. I was certain that a mocha frappuccino would earn our way back into the house.

It did, eventually. After waving the frothy cup up at the window and then making a show of Madeline pretending to drink it, he rushed down the stairs and threw open the front door. Despite his attempts to grab the drink and keep us outside, I managed to push my way in. Oh, yes, so sweet it was to be back inside.

“Granty, Granty,” I drew in a sip of my hot black coffee, my eyes sharp on Grant’s. “Oh, dear little boy, how foolish you are. After the whole scare-Heather fest, I was going to go easy on you… But now… Oh, goodness… Now, I will revenge. BIG TIME, MISTER!”"
He laughed, dancing with his frappuccino. “Ha, whatever.” And then he skipped away, as I laughed my evil laugh.

It was just past midnight when my black lab began to growl. Half asleep, I rolled over in bed, shushed her with a pat on the head, and proceeded to try and drift off. Five minutes later, Belle growled again. The rumbling sound vibrated my bed and stifled the heavy night winds. Before I could even try and calm her down, she jumped to the floor in a mess of long legs. In her two years of life, Belle has never barked so loud and with such intensity.

The house was dark, and besides Belle’s howling and the drifting whispers of the wind, it was quiet. My parents were vacationing in Mexico, so it was just my two younger siblings and me. Belle’s barking was beyond alarming – she only “speaks” when senses a stranger near by. Because of this, I had the sudden urge to run screaming out of my house, sprint straight to the Mexican border and find my parents. I was willing to risk exposure to the Swine Flu! Anything but face the frightful mean invader of my home sanctuary!

I crawled out of my bed, cursing my first floor bedroom and the oh-so terrible danger it put me in. I tripped over my combat boots and in the last moment decided to slip them on. If need be, I could KICK the robber in the nose, down under, the knees, and the TOES. I was determined to save my dear brother and sister, as well as my own precious life.

Meanwhile, Belle was whimpering in between barks, pushing at my bedroom door and begging to be released so she could attack. I nodded. We were ready. Ready to fight and protect! To kick some ass, you could say.

“One… Two…” I whispered, holding the cold door knob. “THREE!”

I opened the door and Belle darted out into the hallway, sniffing and searching for any sign of true physical evidence. Cowardly and drugged on Benadryl, I wandered out of my bedroom at a slower and more timid pace.

“Madeline?” I called. “Grant? HELLO, ARE YOU GUYS ALIVE?!”

I wander over to the staircase, grasping the banister and swaying with the shadows from the front large windows. There was a light on in my sister’s room, so I yelled again, “Madeline! Maddie! Hellooooooooo! Madds!?!?!”
“What?!” She snapped, popping her head out of her room from upstairs.
“Oh, good. You’re alive.” I sighed. “Where’’s Grant?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. Bed.”
“Okay. Thank goodness. Belle was just… freaking out… It’’s all okay, though!” I insisted to myself.

After checking the bolted lock on the front door and deciding that Belle agreed the house was in control, I wandered back to my bedroom. As I turned the corner and into my pitch black hallway, the man grabbed me by the shoulder and yelled, “AHRAAAHGGGGHH!!”

I cried out in agony, falling backwards into the kitchen as my heart was thrown out of my chest. Sobbing and holding onto an also frightened Belle, I screamed some more. “I’VE ALREADY CALLED 911 DON’T YOU DARE TRY ANYTHING! AHHHGERAWAWWWW! RUN MADELINE, RUN!”

“I so got you!” Grant cheered with a dance, stepping into the light of the kitchen.
I held my chest and ninja kicked the air in front of him. “Just because your now taller and sneakier than me does NOT mean you can attack me in the middle of the night! MEAN MEAN BOY!”
“I scared Heather! I scared Heather!” He sang.
“I thought I was going to DIE!” I screamed, stomping past him and into my room. “You will pay! Just you wait! Years from now… You will pay!”

This occurred two nights ago and I’m tragically STILL shaking from the incident. Obviously I’m a very jumpy person. So… Anyone have any ideas as to how to get back at my 13-year-old brother?

The festival was fantastic. The streets of Park City transformed into a snowy Hollywood village – my old home had invaded. There was glitz, there was glam, there was freezing temperatures of 15 degrees, and there were some powerful movies.

I saw the screenings of Where is Where?, The Carter, Adam, The Works of Maria Marshall, and Adventureland. I’d go into greater depth and give my full reviews, but alas, I have four hours worth of essay writing due tomorrow morning…

On another note, it was lovely to see my relatives again and wonderful (but ridiculously overwhelming) to see my family. Overall though, I’m so happy to be home in Berkeley.

…Despite the fact that I have a class tomorrow, work, errands to run, laundry to wash, essays to write, and a book to edit. Oh, the joys of reality!

Time for some revising!

I’m “home” right now, in Orange County. I won’t return to Berkeley until Tuesday, which is really nice. I needed a break from the city life. It’s nice to just relax in a warm, large house with a stocked kitchen and my smiling family.

The greatest plus? Being with my dog, Belle.

Words can explain how much I love her. She whimpered when we reunited and I sobbed. I don’t know how I’m going to leave her again on Tuesday. It’s going to be so hard, but I’m beyond grateful to be with her now.