along the way

Whitney, what are you doing. Really what are you doing. That little spasm in your stomach just now, thats called HUNGER. What are you doing here wiggling out of your impossible hoodie that's gotten too warm, mooching internet?

You're crazy just remember that. Almost as crazy as the people who willingly choose to read these ravings of a mad woman.

Hopefully I will have an easier time making my way out of Ogden today. Last Tuesday
I took a bit of a detour. I caught the inbound instead of out bound 603, jumped quickly out of it to throw myself into the outbound route. 25th something boulevard was announced and I pull the string and get out. After I shut my backpack I turned around in a full circle to find I was not on Washington blvd but Harrision blvd. I shrugged and thought whatever. This is familiar. I'm close I'll walk.

25th avenue is what some would consider ghetto. I can feel more at home in a rundown place like that then I can up on the hills in Bountiful or East Layton. The people may be corrupt according to some but there is usually a humility in them that isn't found anywhere else. It was a smoky part of town. I saw a man with tired eyes stagger past me with a Santa Claus sized beard carrying a drink in one hand. A beady eyed man passed me who was bundled up from head to toe, pushing around rickety cart of all sorts things you can think of. A girl around my height came out of her old house with a homemade pie in her hands to get it to a neighbor.

Town houses usually just look ordinary to me, white brown or gray boxes. These were the exception. I saw a house that looked like it was smack in the middle of ST. Petersburg with a domed roof. It was ornamented with green and yellow patterns and it had at least two spires. Another was a turquoise house on a corner that was a little larger than my house. The house had separated arched roofs and victorian niches and columns and a tentish --uhhh I don't know the real term --a tentish something that was built above the door which extended outward to about five feet. They don't build things like that anymore. I seriously wanted to sketch these houses if I had the time to. My mom wouldn't approve, she could not believe that I walked 25th alone(such a gross place). Likewise she renewed my love for the song 'Just a Girl' by no doubt.

The street that I thought was Washington was actually Monroe so I naively pressed on assuming it had to be close. I went on for three more blocks and let the 603 pass me because Washington had to be close. I stopped a guy walking around to ask if I was close at all to Washington, I was taken aback by how blue his eyes were. Don't take this from a perspective of a girl, but an observer. They weren't bright like most really blue eyes are but just straight navy blue. It was like - whoah. He told me it was about eight blocks down hill. My backpack started getting heavy.


When I found Washington my bus passed me, then stopped in traffic in front of a stoplight. I was about three fourths of the way to it when it picked up and left me again. I was getting really tired and cold and hungry and collasped on a bench in front of what I think was a church but I could be wrong. Then I saw this taco stand on the curb. 2 tacos 1 dollar. All I wanted was a drink but I noticed how happy the man at the stand seemed when he cooked, so I got tacos too. Most people I see behind a counter when they cook look like they are thinking about tall bridges or high cliffs.

I collasped again at the bench at the bus stop. Once i finished my food a clean looking girl came and sat by me holding a sprite like I was. We started talking when she said she was broke. I admit I looked at her teeth when she said that but I didn't see any yellow stains from alcohol or smoking, or brown from the harder stuff. She didn't say it in self pity, she said it like she would the time. I asked her if she had anything to eat today. She said a little bit. I made her take two dollars to get something later.

I talked to her on the ride home and foundher name was Kim and she was on her way to Bountiful to earn some money from relatives until she got her first paycheck from quest. I have to say we both talked like it was a normal conversation because I've been exposed to a lot of situations like this before and she wasn't seeking attention. It's only because I was asking.

Kim said it felt good to be out on her own even if it was expensive. Said it was good to pay bills even if they were hard to pay. I thought about that. She used to live with and help assist her mom who has cancer but she says shes 23 now and she needs to take her own space. it was hard for her to always be around someone so controlling. She helps out as much as she can but her mom gripes at her that she has been abandoned when there are two others there at home.
It's weird with her mom cause she abadoned her when she was little cause she was getting into more and more meth.

I told her I was coming from school and she got a look in her eyes. She said she wished she would have finished. College i asked and she shook her head and said highschool. She said she had dropped out because it was hard since her mom needed her so much and couldn't quite take it. I shrugged and said you do what you have to do, i think you're going to get there.

She said she likes where she lives in Ogden and it's better than bountiful where she grew up. They may be poorer but they don't have the same elevated attitude you find in the rich. They know how to have what they have cause it might not last.

I hear so many storys like this that are so unfortunate and they ask will I make it out there. I want to say yes but i don't always know. I think she has a good shot though. She talks about it like she's not going to give up.

When I got off of the bus and walked down through my neighborhood it didn't feel real at all. I got in my house and Lindsey was doing her nails. Tvs were left on and I thought why do we get all this? Why do people like Kim get passed on their parents consequences and have to work three times as hard just to get where her parents originated? Why do I get this?

Ramblings upon ramblings to shoot off from here but I need to get back. I could go on, mark my words there is so much unsaid.