Sing me to sleep, Morrissey.

Earlier today I saw the best art show I've seen at BYU, probably ever. It's a graphic design show that joins art, top notch design and current affairs. There is a fine line between preachy and well-done when the state of the world is involved, but, my friends, this show is amazing. Do yourself a favor if you live in Utah and go the fifth floor of the HFAC.

Tonight I rode my bike for four hours, so I'm in a weird frame of mind. It is a Big Fish night.

Riding my bike is one of the only things that puts me into an elevated mental state. I'm not sure what it is about it--maybe the constant motion, the wind in my hair, the alone-but-not-aloneliness, the logical sense that bicycles make--but I just know I feel like a different person when I'm on my bike. I feel like I'm more myself than any other time. This is at least true for Provo.

I said once that I forget who I am in Provo, and it's true. For some reason my being has never been able to fully integrate here. There have been admirable stretches of time where I felt completely at home, but I've never been 100% settled. I have dissected this time and again, but I always reach the same conclusion. Or maybe I'm just over-thinking this like I always do.

There have been quite a few men in my life who've referred to me as the coolest girl they've ever met. Ironically, these men have always been my best friends. Some briefly lovers, but mostly just friends. I have dissected this time and again also, but I always reach the same conclusion: I am still waiting for someone other than Kimba who always wants to be with me.