"Tell her drive very carefully, very carefully."-My Grandmother.

Heck yes! My parents have finally allowed for me to earn my learner's permit. Only to help with the driving to Mt.Rushmore, of course. But still I'm so much closer to my driver's liscence. Which is silly because this time next year I will be entering college. Not much driving there.

Valentine.

I love how words can be skewed when overused. Words like ironic, voyeurism, and so on. Fantasy is one as well. I admit it, I 'fantasize' quite a bit. Isolation is the best situation to create new ideas. I think about different life situations. At school, college, life in cities we have driven through. When I travel I watch for houses and landscapes I can recall. I imagine myself in Idaho running through the fields. Silly but I still would like to try. I imagine myself waking in a house I walked past in Washington, D.C. I flip through advertisements and catalogues and imagine a house filled with such goods. Sometimes I imagine them in the house I currently live in.

I think about Valentine and what his life will be after we graduate. I admit, I am worried. I like to imagine him in some form of abode writing his books and movie scripts, trapped at a desk with the curtains closed. I think of the way he sits at the desk hunched over scribbling in his black notebook with the jet black ink staining the paper. I recall the conversations in the cafeteria, his responses and wonder what he said will come true. It's none of my business but that does not prevent my thinking about it. I imagine situations with him as the starring role. He mentioned Iceland and I think about the National Geographics splayed on the floor. I think about the small empty apartments with no flooring or cabinetry. I think about the cold, the people, and the economy. And as I've said before, how he fits in. Or how I think he would fit in. How I would fit in. I don't.

I fantasize quite a bit. About new people I invent that I would like to meet. How different they will be with their cranberry lips and kohl lined lids, their accent and flaming red hair. How they will dress, act and what we would talk about. Music? Food? Sometimes they do not accept me, which is fine but I worry. I worry that I will not succeed that I will fail and end up back here. This bothers me. I prefer to think about his future instead.

Change.

The last I wrote in this blog was about Bush. Things-more specifically everything has changed. Last summer I was in a different situation. My grades were fine, my future bright. Life was good. Life is still 'good' but I'm not the way I used to be. I'm less proud and confident, which is fine because pride is a vice and confidence only comes with accomplishment. I have not accomplished much this past year, not anything that can be measured. I've definitely learned quite a bit. I've learned about new things. There's that word again-things. I'm much more aware than I have ever been about the world, people, and myself. Maybe surgery isn't the best field for me, physics might not be either. I know this now and I hope to learn more. I've been thinking about which direction my life can go in. I can be like my parents, or I could be a scholar. Both are still possible. I could be a drug addict, an alcoholic, or anything else derogatory. There's still a chance for anything to happen. The possibilities never cease to present themselves.

As or now I'm me as much I can be and I am whomever I currently am. I think I will change and I hope for the better. Of course there are the pieces of myself I can never completely remove. I will always be Navajo even when I wish not to be. I will always be a daughter, granddaughter, and a sister. And I hope to always remain myself. Girl Scouts honor. How I identify myself will change as I age. I like to think of my roles. Roles, as in the parts played in a theatre production. I wake wondering which role in society I will play today. Will I remain true to my family or will I be the Navajo girl? Both. I presume that when I have a family of my own (Gasp!) I will be a mother first and always. It all sounds so silly and trite and maybe it is but for now this is what I think about. Three years from now I will look back on this and laugh. Little girl thoughts. How cute. How lovely. But for now this is good enough.