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Restless is such an ironic word. "I feel so restless" describes why I can't sleep right now but it is not because I have gone without rest. In fact lately I have been overly restFULL...This quiet life in Montana recharged my all my empty batteries by the second day I was here and the rest of this time I've just been adding up energy to my stockpile. I have a HUGE stockpile of energy. Gigantic, bigger than the pink house, bigger than an airplane, bigger than a bunker or a motorcycle or a purple dinosaur or dragon. My stockpile means I have hours and hours and hours and hours hours of energy that needs a'burnin' and I looks like I'm in luck because I'm going home a city that never sleeps.  

I want to help design the most fun obstacle course with Kelci for Forage. I want it to be kid and grownup friendly fun. It will be fun because Kelci doesn't know how to create something that isn't fun. And the Holland Project only does things that are amazing. We're in good hands.

I want to plan prom. 

I want to do a portrait series of people who I love and admire in Reno. I want to take four pictures of people and ask them weird questions in an interview and then throw it up somewhere like in a book or this blog and call it "Reno Talent."

I want to write an email to my pen pal who stopped writing me, and I want to tell him that it's ok. You were my catalyst and you laughed at my jokes and it's ok you're not writing anymore because I'm not a homewrecker and neither are you. 

I want to see why the hell everyone is so stoked up on CrossFit and does it really give you six pack abs? 

I want to see my old friend and tell him some things to his face. 

I want to see my mom and go to the lake with her and the girls. And I want to take Ysabella to granite street again and eat chocolate and tell her that Girls are Smart, Girls are Tough, Girls Rule Boys Drool.

I want I want I want
God I'm so selfish. 
This is my blog where I write what I want. 
Ok, self. Fine. 

I'd also like to say that I am grateful and content with what has happened over this month here. I deeply love my grandparents and I am thankful for that love. I wonder and worry about the future for them, but I feel satisfied that I have helped them and they have helped me. We are both recharged and ready to face the world. I hope. 

Ok last ramble.
Today I went to Bozeman to visit Aunt Chris. I went to MSU where Jean and George met. I am extremely sentimental, and going back to that place where they met was a big deal for me. I looked up their old yearbooks in the stacks at the library and found 1942. Jean Collins and George Wallis were featured in a number of photographs. George was very active in all kinds of clubs. A true All American Boy. They looked beautiful, the most perfect picture of a happy couple. 67 years later here they are. It is remarkable, the endurance, the patience, the sheer will to stick together, the love it has taken for something to last that long. I wonder if I'll have the strength, endurance, patience and love to make something like this stick with a man in my future. 

This conversation is a gem: 

Me- How did you guys meet? You and grandpa?
Jean- It was at a picnic for the M Club or something. I had taken a different date there and George had come with someone else too. We were playing touch football and someone tackled me, and then that someone kissed me. 
Me- (cough) Whhhhhhaaaaatttttttttt?! haha! 
Jean- Yes! I was on the ground and my eyes were closed and when I looked up it was George.
Me- (awestruck because of the image this has produced in my head. shocked at the boldness of young George, and the sheer audacity of this kid, who hardly knows this young beautiful woman from Whitefish Mt, to just bend over and kiss her in the middle of a touch football game in 1942, while she's there with another date no less!) 
Me- Well, what did you do next?!
Jean- Well, we just stuck together for the rest of the picnic and totally ignored our dates and that's the start of this 67 year saga, I suppose. 

I know. 

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