Cocktail party/dance-your-face-off extravaganza at my yoga studio last night. I may have only had two drinks, but I feel as though I had ten (perhaps because I danced my face off). Luckily, it’s been a perfect lay-in-bed-and-recover type of weekend. Lay in bed as it snows outside, make pancakes for breakfast, and lay in bed some more. It’s been a good weekend.

Despite the recent snow, it was warm and breezy at the beach the other day (or rather, the sandy shore of a reservoir). And during my 13 straight hours of work that day, I really needed that brief time at the beach. ‘Twas glorious.

(and that last one is a face, in case you were confused)

When my childhood friend Lindsey and I met up a few times this summer, I begged her for all the details of the grown-up lives of my grade-school classmates. I had moved away after third grade and had no idea what anyone other than Lindsey was up to in their lives. Though some of what I heard surprised me, most of it didn’t. The fact that Russ B. got kicked out of school, Tony W. went to jail, and Cindy L. was still a bitch didn’t shock me in any way. Some things never change.

The same is even more true of our high school classmates. Less time has passed, so they are even more likely to be the same people they were. And thanks to the power of modern-day social networking sites, anyone has the capability of checking up on their former classmates (though stalking might be a better word). Late last night, out of boredom (or maybe because this non-coffee drinker drank two cups of coffee yesterday afternoon), I e-stalked my high school classmates online. And profile after profile, only one thought came to mind (over and over again) - they haven’t changed a bit. I wasn’t surprised by anything I saw (other than possibly the speed at which my former classmates seem to be popping out babies). But oh how I have changed, I thought to myself. In a way, I even thought I was better than them for it. But I soon realized that I haven’t changed so much, and that if they were to think one thing about me, it would probably be that I haven’t changed a bit either.

I am an awful lot like my high school self. I went on a little detour in my first years of college, but luckily got back on route. We all spend a good chunk of our lives trying to figure out who we are, and I think I had myself pretty spot on at 16. Of course, I didn’t know this then, and I proceeded to change (a few times) in order to find myself, but in hindsight, I was right on at 16. Not so much at 15, or even 17, but at 16, I was golden. I remember, sometime around 21, wishing I could be more like my 16-year-old self. How smart, and beautiful, and kind the 16-year-old me was. She was my ideal me. And luckily, I found my way back to her. I am once again the 16-year-old me… except now I’m older, wiser, and not such a dumb-ass (because let’s face it, we all kind of are at 16).

As much as it pained me to think I was just like everyone else, that I hadn’t changed either, I knew I was no different. My location may have changed, my interests too, but I haven’t changed. None of us have. We are older, wiser, (hopefully) more mature. We have jobs and responsibilities, some have families. We are all much different people than we used to be, but at our core, 16 or 6, I think most of us are still the same people we are now as we were then. After all, Cindy L. is still a bitch.

We crossed rivers, climbed, and then got dumped on. And then we went out to eat soaking (to the bone) wet. It was awesome… beyond belief.

Do you know how if you stare at a word long enough, it starts to make no sense? Take the word ‘chair’ for example. Chair. Say it. Look at it typed on this page. Say it and look at it like 50 times. How on Earth did someone come up with the name ‘chair’ for that thing you sit on? It’s mind-blowing (numbing) if you think about it long enough. Anyway, that’s kind of how I feel about a lot of photos right now. Mine and everyone else’s. I look at them, and even photos I would normally quite like, I’ll wonder ‘what the hell is that?’ It’s like I’ve already seen them 500 times and like the word ‘chair,’ they’ve started to make no sense. Am I making any sense? Anyway, for this reason, I’ve decided to banish the usual suspects this week and opt for two completely random photos. Just because.

Yesterday. Little Cottonwood Canyon. I climbed my first crack. Yeehaw.

I have a new plan. For life, I mean. A goal. I thought I had figured out what I wanted to do with mine, but maybe I didn’t. Maybe I did, but again, maybe I didn’t. So these next few months, years, I’m going to try something new… and see where it takes me. Maybe it won’t take me anywhere, maybe it will take me somewhere I don’t like, or maybe, just maybe, it will take me home.

Only one way to find out.

This post, formerly “frontier days” has been converted to a week in photos. Deal with it.