Sometimes when my head is spinning and I need some fresh air, I walk out to the Point.  Even if it's way late and I'm completely alone, it's refreshing to sit out on the volcanic rock where the wind roars and the ocean crashes violently below.  Truth be told, I don't know my place in this world.  I don't know what others think about me, but beneath the glittering stars I can just curl up into the ball and sync my introverted soul to the rhythm of the night and remember that this is an incredible life I live, and I am thankful.

    Today I listened to all of The Takeover's Coastin' for the first time since July.
    I cried the whole way through.
    Sometimes the past seems so distant that it can't even be real.  When it comes down to it, memories are nothing more than our own imagination seeking to resurrect a reality that no longer exists.  I try to remember the sensation of touch, of sight, of sound, but weeks pass and months fade away and gradually it all starts to dim.
    You see, I'm rather notorious for remembering tiny details from years ago, and I'm excellent at writing everything down.  I am a storyteller who revels in memories because they were born from the times that shaped me.  But sometimes smiling at pictures and rereading journal entries isn't enough.   I crave the "old days."
     But stop being silly, Katherine.  You're life is incredible and each day a new adventure awaits.  You can't change what is so why waste your time trying to turn back the clock in your mind?
     Yes, I suppose that's right.  The present is wonderful and the future enticing.  As for the past?  Let it remind me of the beauty of this life and the reasons why I am the way I am.  Let it propel me forward.

  What I love about college is that you can choose your own schedule.  This week, aside from going to class till 11 AM and working on online classes for several hours a day, I've:

• gone to the beach for an hour or two every day
• talked with Tyler Ray on the phone for three hours before he left on his mission to Mexico
• set up to get a new passport for my own mission
• packed and repacked my suitcase four times {not kidding you}
• partied it up at a dance that was so hot that the windows were fogged up and everyone's clothes were completely saturated and my hair went from ringlets to straight but everyone was impressed by my sparkly five-inch platforms so it's ok
• eaten way too much ice cream
• spent two hours looking at pictures of Rachel and I when I only meant to find one
• shopped for Christmas presents and missionary clothes
• watched the Seasiders score 100 points and win the basketball game
• stayed up till 3:30 with friends playing "what are the odds" and been quite shocked at what some people are willing to do at the flip of a coin {I'll leave it at that}
• started tutoring sessions with this cute young lady from the MTC who served in my same mission; she taught me how to say a prayer in German
• been otherwise scatter-brained because all I can do is think about is Christmas

  The plane took off and I couldn't believe the view.  At 16,000ish feet, I could only think of Coldplay's Paradise as I soaked in the teal blues and emerald greens of Oahu.  We flew threw the clouds, and with the sun glistening at the tips of those pure white tufts it was like entering a kingdom of Heaven.


 Suddenly Morgan and her instructor just dropped out of the plane.  We didn't even have time to think {much less feel fear} before all of our own instructors starting filing out, and I had about three seconds to experience my feet at the edge of the door and then-- nothing.
 We tore through the sky, the cool air rushing past our bodies as gravity plummeted us towards the earth.  Although I could hardly breathe, I couldn't stop myself from screaming with raw ecstasy.  Now this was the way to live!  After pulling the shoot, my instructor helped me remove my goggles and then I gasped at the surreal sensation of flight.  Like dandelion seeds we drifted through the wind, gazing at the island which seemed more like a hand-crafted model than legitimate terrain.  Corral reefs, sandy beaches, misty mountains, farm parches, windy roads, speckled jungle, we could see it all!  He let me take control, teaching me to turn left and right and so we swooped, hollering at the magnificent world.  How could I have ever been so crazy to think that I would only do this once!?

Note to self: barefoot hiking is a bad idea.  I seriously came back with the bottom of my feet turned purple and in pain, but gosh was it pretty.  The mud-slick trail to PCC Falls is little more than the gurgling stream itself, a vein of cool water snaking its way through the wild jungle.  I made the mistake of bringing my phone in the hopes of taking pictures, but the honest reality is that on such a hike, your entire energy is dedicated to not slipping-- and in my case not drowning my phone.  Sometimes we tried maneuvering our way across ragged paths of river rock {careful not to put our weight on the wobbly stones nor grab a vine that might just snap}, other times we just trudged through the water fully clothed.  But when we reached thee gushing falls, our breath caught and we dived in.