And the moral of the story is...

If you live in a rural-but-urbanizing area, remember, it's still rural. "Getting lost" is no longer a viable means of acclimating to your community and learning your way around by chance. It's more of a way to get completely and totally lost in fields and fields and more fields, where you have the thought that you could run out of gas, freeze to death, and no one would know any better. Even if you have spent some time studying the maps of town. Getting lost in the country is not nearly as adventurous and exciting as getting lost in, say, south Orange County or Seattle. Just sayin'.

Oh, and another lesson learned: if you've cut up a credit card and then taped it back together because you lost your job and needed the card again, don't ever try to use it at the gas pump. Otherwise half of your credit card might live within the bowels of the gas machine at Maverik forever, and you will be completely without a credit card. Which, really, is just as well, seeing as you did cut it up in the first place.

Again, just sayin.'

The "lost season" and an attitude of gratitude

Is it really December already?

Friends, what a blur the last few months have been! Have any of you ever heard of the old movie The Lost Weekend, about a man who binge-drinks so badly he can't remember anything about an entire weekend of his life?

Well, I feel a little bit like that. Minus the alcohol and memory loss.

My life pretty much exploded from the day I went to New York City, and it's been an unending whirlwind ever since.

The dust is finally starting to settle, beginning with a diagnosis on the unending cold I've had for the entire three months (it waxed and waned) - turns out it was walking pneumonia. That's right, folks. I managed to pack up my entire life, drive to Utah twice, do a play, start a new job and move into a new place, all with walking pneumonia. Crazy, huh? (Now, lest you worry, people with walking pneumonia are contagious for only a very short period, and for me, that would have been a long time ago, so if you've been around me lately, you should be okay. )

But I digress.

So, I feel like I've lost this entire chunk of time in a blur of hectic insanity, and somehow it's already the holiday season! As I was reading over my friend Rebecca's beautiful post about people for whom she's grateful, I was struck by my own list of blessings. Following suit of all those bloggers who do gratitude posts in November, I think I'm going to start doing some thankful posts of my own - albeit not tied to Turkey Day. I'm a lil' bit late for that. (Whoops.)

Without further adieu...

THANKFUL THURSDAY #1: My Dad

Last night, right after I turned out the lights and was about to drift off to sleep, my phone began to ring. Who on earth was calling me at 11 p.m.?!

My dad, calling to tell me about the OCMCO concert from that evening (my lil' sister is still in the choir, along with a couple of my cousins). Then he told me that there was an SNL clip I just had to watch - "go watch it online and call me back."

Which I did, of course (thank you, Hulu). But I just had to laugh. So random. But that's totally my dad's and my relationship. We don't share many common interests, but politics? Well... Ever wonder where I get that intensely political streak? It's all thanks to him, folks. All thanks to him.

I am, unabashedly and shamelessly, a daddy's girl. My dad and I didn't really become close until I was away in college, but over time I've come to respect and love him so, so much. My dad is pretty much the first person I call whenever I have a random question or need advice on everything from directions around Los Angeles to what kind of cocoa to use in brownies. He's genuinely one of the best people I know. His intentions are so good, and he's got so much integrity, it's a great example to follow.

I'm so indebted to my dad for his courage and diligence in remaining true to his LDS faith, too. From a young age, he was motivated enough to get himself to church activities, and that set a solid precedent for me when I was living in La Crescenta with my non-LDS mom and stepdad. I always appreciated how my dad faithfully took us to church every week, even after my mom left the church when I was a toddler. I really can't imagine hauling two kidlets under 3 or 4 to church singlehandedly, but he did it, and that's a large part of why I am who I am today, I think. Then he had the thoughtfulness to give me a Book of Mormon inscribed with my name when I was 13, and that book - that specific copy of it - is what resulted in my baptism. My mom threatened to throw it away, but I felt so strongly about defending it, and that rekindled my interest in the LDS faith I'd not had in my life after my parents' divorce a few years earlier. The gospel of Jesus Christ is so integral to who I am, and it's something I cherish so dearly. Without my dad's constant faith, I know I would be missing something so dear to my heart, and that would be so sad to me!

So, anyways, that's why I love my dad and am so, so grateful for him, among the many other amazing people I'm blessed to have in my life. More on some of the others next week...