Nine months

I've taken a nine month break from this blog. Nine months. I could have had a baby. But I didn't. I finished a semester of school at the Y, worked all summer at the stupid restaurant, and then packed my bags and moved to Hawaii. Do you really think that living in Hawaii caters to writing every day on this online blog? It doesn't. That's why the blog has been inactive. But I am moving back to Utah in five days so I thought it was time to get it restarted. Actually, in all honesty, one of my best friends H (the only person who ever reads this blog) reminded me that I hadn't written since March. Wow, March. That is a long time.

Maybe I just don't have anything to blog about. But that is not true. There are so many things to write about that it is impossible to know where to start after nine months of inactivity. So I'll just say this. I enjoy hitchiking. I honestly enjoy it, look forward to it, like doing it. I don't have a car and I live five miles from campus and the bus is unreliable and my roommate is a brat and I am left to one option for getting to class on time: hitchiking. At first I hated it and was embarrased and barely stuck my thumb out there, feeling like a beggar and a bum. Now I stick it out with confidence. I even shake it around a little bit if the car looks like it won't stop. Sometimes I walk as I hitchike. Sometimes I run after the car if I am feeling hyper. I like hitchicking with my roommates, Ak or Am, but if I can't then I just do it by myself.

One person who picked me up was a lady visiting from North Carolina who just got a bitter divorce. She was a basketcase and kept telling me to make sure to finish school since men are unreliable pigs and as soon as they love you and leave you, you got to be able to support yourself.

One man stopped at 7/11 to grab a coffee and left me in his truck with the keys. I was tempted I admit.

I've had countless discussions about my religion and my beliefs.

One man took me and Ak around the whole island because he didn't have anything better to do so we just went for a little ride. We saw our friends and they wondered whose car we were in and where we were going but we just had to answer that he didn't know. That man gave us avocados that he had stored in the back of his truck. We cooked them with chicken, ranch dressing and melted cheese.

I've given out probably a dozen fake numbers from perverts who think picking up a hitchiker is a way to get a date.

One time a truck picked me up and had no room in the cab but said I could hop in the bed. There wasn't really any room in the bed either. He was carrying about ten bikes. I sat with a pedal jammed against my head and a tire rubbing on my leg. I was going commando in a skirt. Fun ride.

I've never felt threatened, scared, or in harm's way hitchiking. I've enjoyed every ride and gotten to know a variety of people from all over the world, coming to visit this weird island in the middle of nowhere. I'm told there are weirdos out there who rape and kill girl hitchikers, but I haven't found one yet. Most people who stop are maybe a little lonely, but very kind and selfless. It almost gives you hope in the human race.