You know how all of this time I’ve been working toward extricating myself from Provo?

It’s finally happening. I’m 18 days away from leaving Provo, and it’s finally beginning to hit me that I’m a real person – heading out into the world. Weird, eh?

It’s gonna be good. I’m trying to figure out how to get all of my stuff to California, but I think it will work out ok.

… random things. Certain things have a draw for me depending on how I’m feeling – and I go through ‘phases’ where I’m very interested in a subject. More often than not, I tire of it, get bored, and move on to something else. The only time I worry about this is when I’m not interested in anything – it’s a sure sign that I’m spreading myself too thin and that I need to refocus.

Currently, my mind is on travel. I’m finishing up here in Provo, and my life is winding down. It’s going to be a good change, this upcoming move. I’m packing what I can fit into my suitcases, and I’m going to California. I’ll stay there for a while, until I can gather my thoughts, and then I want to hurl myself out into the world, and see what I’ve been missing all this time in Provo.

First stop? Europe. England specifically – this always happens when I read (and no, it’s not because of Harry Potter – I have no illusions about finding Diagon Alley). I think there is something wholesome about a country that is only 10,000 square miles bigger than the entire state of Utah – and I love that it has so much history packed into it. There was something about growing up in China that ingrained a thirst for place-history. Place-history is when you walk down a street that has been there for longer than 50 years – and the buildings around you feel like they should be there. I hardly ever feel that way in the United States – the rare exceptions being certain areas of New York City, Philadelphia and Monticello. Yes, Thomas Jefferson’s home. It’s an unusual interest, but of all the founding fathers, I’ve always felt he was the most simpatico.

Anyway, not terribly interesting to anyone else, but that’s where I’m at.

When the first Harry Potter books came out, I refused to read them. “It’s nothing but a fad,” I said, snobbishly. I would sneer at people reading them on airplanes and buses. It wasn’t until my dear mum joined the throngs of people singing the praises of the boy wizard that I relented and read book #1. I wasn’t that impressed, but I liked it enough to try #2. The third book is my favorite to this day. I loved it – and I still chuckle at the mere thought of the Irish team’s antics at the Quidditch World Cup.

I went and saw the movie last night. It was probably my favorite out of all of the ones that have been made so far. It was refreshingly free of show-offy pizazz and “look at what magic can do!” tricks. The kids are growing up, and are much better actors than they used to be, and Dolores Umbridge was perfect. Horrifying – but perfectly played. As usual, the Weasleys were my favorite – Ron, the Twins, and Ginny.
I can’t wait for the book – and if RON DIES… I’ll be SO SAD.

*** LATER: And yes, I did say “chuckle” and “antics” – the truth comes out: I am a 90 year old man.

I think so much of life is feeling comfortable in your own skin. I’m 26 years old, and I like myself better now than I think I have since I was about 4. I read a statistic recently that the age at which a woman feels the most beautiful is when she is 34 – and the reason is because that is when most women finally come to terms with their bodies. There’s a glow to feeling good about yourself that you can’t fake or paint on.

I think I’ve always assumed that once I was skinny I would feel happy with myself, and it never occurred to me that I could be happy with myself – while still working toward being healthier. It’s incredibly liberating.