Ok! I know this is supposed to be another flashback and I truly tried, but three VCRs and five t.v.s later I still can't get the darn thing hooked up! I get sound, but no video. I consider myself to be pretty knowledgeable in electronic set-up department, but perhaps it has been way too long since the last time I touched a VCR! Sadly now I am going to have to use someone's t.v./vcr combo to get the video and turn it digital. So sadly you get a rant of me annoyed with my VCRs. Why do I have three of them if they aren't even being used. Looks like a trip to the electronic recycling center is in my near future.
So instead of a video I found an old picture of me from High School. I am in Grade 9 and this is with one of my best friends Megan. Tragic I know, but I did own a multi-colored leather jacket which I thought was the bomb!
Hopefully Megan doesn't get upset with me for posting such an old picture of us, but I have to say Freshman year was a lot of fun for me. It was my last year of regular school. I finished high school through independent study. Which I don't regret, it allowed me to travel full-time and go to extraordinary places and meet all kinds of people, but I did miss my friends and those regular high school experiences along the way.
My dad always told me that our life experiences whether good or bad turn us into the person we are today. That was certainly true with him and his life and the kind of man he became. I think it is true for me as well. No matter how far I travel or where I go in the world home is always in my heart. I will forever be a country girl from Oklahoma. Living in the big city has changed my view of the world, but not my heart. It is funny because I have conversations with my best friend today about how we are both from the country and definitely have a different view of the world after living in the city, but sometimes those little country quirks come out and it definitely reminds us of home and how sometimes the city folk are even more far out there than the country folk.
They say writing is therapeutic. I think I just proved that. I am no longer frustrated. Although perhaps you are for having suffered through my goings on.