The computer camera is staring at me

Well, here I am updating my blog after heaven only knows how long since my last post. Interesting, this compulsion to update, despite the obvious lack of blogowers. As I'm not entirely sure when my last post was, and I certainly don't care enough to check, I can't update the void on the comings and goings of my jejune life. So why not begin where everyone else does? Somewhere in the middle.
I've reached 52 applications (in two different states) in my ongoing quest for gainful employment. It's a painful process, really, on so many levels. At times you wonder why you bother being a good employee to build an inspiring resume when it does squat to get you a job at the eternally-hiring Walmart. Michael said not too long ago that he has a new coworker who used to be a carnie. Maybe that's where I've gone wrong. I became a store manager supervising six employees. I should have dropped out of school and hit the road with the Bearded Lady and Elephant Man.
I'm back in Rexburg, as of Saturday. My comparison with The Burg and black holes is depressingly accurate. I can't seem to get out of this place! I'm dreadfully aware of the look people give me when I mention how much I dislike it here. It's a look similar to the one they wear when they're emptying the litter box. Why do heads shake and tongues tisk when I say "I hate Rexburg" but it's perfectly normal for the head waggers to say "I hate California?" or "I hate New York?" So what if Rexburg is 99.99999% Mormon? No where does it say I have to like it simply because of the religious convictions of a majority of the population and because my religious views match theirs. It doesn't fit me, never has, but I took the step back into the Twilight Zone with a great deal of faith....and because I pretty much had no other option.
I cannot tell you how difficult it is going to be for me here. Aside from the Pavlovian response to Rexburg in general and BYUI specifically, I'll be living with my mom. When you're used to being on your own, moving back in with parents is a bit like a kick in the crotch. Much as a person cares for their family, they don't want to be nit-picked all the time, especially after the year I've been having, and the relationship/friendship/whatever between my mom and her ex-husband is beyond the bounds of awkward for me. But when your mom has only one friend, you bite your tongue about awkwardness.
At any rate, I'm holding onto the memories of my friends in Bozeman with a bonafide death grip. It makes me sick to think I may never see some people again, to think that life will move on and whatever part I played in their lives and memories will disappear. I like change, I embrace it (most of the time), but the idea of being forgotten, or of forgetting, is difficult. As is moving forward into the darkness (as usual) without their constant support (not as usual). A great deal in my life has been sacrificed, or taken, these past 13 months, but the idea of Bozeman and the people there kept me holding on. I stuck it out for them, so now that I've been put in a situation without them I'm at a loss.
And so as I struggle to hold onto the scrap of faith I'm hoping I still have that things will work out and that the Lord led me here for a reason and that I'll have the blessings to balance out the pain, I'll, with any luck, keep updating this blog for the benefit of posterity and the security of the nation. To wrap it up, I'll leave you with a quote from Dale on King of the Hill: "That is the worst smelling feces I've ever smelled."
Wise words, my friends...