Menthal Cigarettes. Is That Okay With You?

Sitting in Kateri's van is probably one of the most relaxing things I've ever done. It smells like wet clothing, plastic, and skittles. Once, we found an X-Large Tye Dye Pink Floyd T-shirt in a snow bank at Taco Bell, and we picked it up and put it in her car. Never mind that someone used it to pick up dog poo. Her mom washed it, and I don't know what happened to it, but I really thought that was interesting. I probably love that girl more than I love anything else in the world.

We went into town today, which means crossing state line. I absolutely adore crossing state lines, especially this one, because I know exactly where it is. If you want to, you can stand with one foot in Idaho, and one foot in Washington. That's a really strange feeling, because even thought you are still in one piece, you are in two places at once. The easiest way to do this would be to stand in the middle of the road, otherwise you have to go a little bit into the woods. But I'm going to do it one day.

For some reason, I was thinking about growing up today. I was talking to Kateri about it. Getting older is truly wonderful, but it's a little odd when you can tangibly feel yourself aging. A few weeks ago, I found a wrinkle on my forehead, and it wasn't from sleeping. My bangs cover it up most of the time, but it's still there. I still feel young inside. Like, really young. Six or seven years old. I guess I've just got to accept that there is absolutely nothing I can do to change the fact that my litte wrinkle is going to get bigger.