Another Flashback

I'm graduating from High School next week. This reminded me of this experience:

I was probably about 9 or 10 years old. We were living at our old house (2 streets over from where we live now). I was sitting on my bedroom floor looking at the coin collecting book my parents got for me for my birthday, on the page for the state quarters. Each state's slot fell under the year its quarter would be released. I remember looking at the four slots for the year 2008 and my heart sinking.

"I'll be able to drive." I thought. And I started crying. Just the fact that this year was in the foreseeable future, that it was written in this book, scared me to death.

I don't cry about growing up any more, but it is weird to think that my life is going to change more than ever before in the next year. The next 3 months, really.

I'm so stoked. Bring on the world. Bring on college, mission, career, family. I know--I have invincible teenager syndrome. And I love it.

Word Documents From My Computer Through The Years

1st 9th grade essay
AP Euro Summer project
6 Dollar Burger Poem
Blog fill in the blank story
Concert Critique
Conference Bingo
Cougar Report
Cover for poem project
Cover for SBO portfolio
Diabetes Scholarship Application
Edited Blog Stories
Essay Rewrite
Favorite Quotes
Hell Newspaper
In the Valley of Prumbles
Jack Handy Quotes
Josh's Poems
Josh's Resume
Josh's Short Story
Life of Pi and Lord of the Flies
Mr. Rogers Newspaper
Mr. Wolf
On Top of Water
Reflective Writing
Sacrament Talk
Stats Project
Sweet 16 Invite
Waterskiing Project
Writing is...

Flashbacks

A couple days ago I went to Carl's Jr. After finishing all but the little bit of Sprite and the ice in the cup, I left it in the truck. A few hours later, on my way home, I grabbed the cup to sip the remains of my drink earlier. The mostly-water-but-Sprite-flavored liquid hit my tongue.

Almost as realistically as a time-traveling, cartoon vortex, I found myself sitting in a gold toyota. I was in the passenger seat with my dad, parked in a neighborhood in provo, finishing a whopper before kick-off. Greg Wrubel's voice was examining the game weather conditions, and it had taken so long for me to finish the massive burger that there was just a small mixture of melted ice and sprite in the bottom of my cup. With painful realization, I found myself slamming back down into the present, sitting in my truck, and my heart sank to the pit of my stomach.

I miss BYU football.

Yesterday I took advantage of the chance to drive our Mazda rather than the truck and plugged my ipod into the tape converter. With the ipod on shuffle, I found myself listening to "Sunny Days" by Jars of Clay. With the same reality previously described, I was transported into a small, white-and-purple glastron boat on a 90 degree summer day. I was laying in the bow of the boat, listening to the stereo play a CD entitled "Lake Favorites." My muscles were completely exhausted, having taken a beating the previous two or three days of the lake trip. My original sunburn was turning into a nice tan and I was with a few of my favorite people in the world.

I miss waterskiing.