This is just a freewrite, don't take it too seriously ya hear!

I was looking up writing prompts online, because I'm that cool, and I came across one that was entitled "Hometown". It wants me to write about my hometown, memories I made there, the people, the places, the landscape, and all that Blazers...woah, sorry I meant all that Jazz.  (that was one of the worst jokes in all of history. Forgive me)

So seeing as I am in Provo right now for our big ass game today (6:00 PM if you're in the area, all the koolest kats in town will be there, don't kid yourself! Just get on down there!), I figured this prompt was pretty darn appropriate, considering I was born just down the road from where I'm sitting this VERY MOMENT.

Sit back, relax, maybe pop some popcorn, pour yourself a glass of wine

Jeannie, we're in PROVO.
Oh right right. Pour yourself a glass of milk and read on.



I was so convinced the mountains that lined my horizon were cardboard. My goal was to one day tip them over. Needless to say I never achieved it, but I got pretty close on some days. My parents let me roam. Anywhere and anytime. I guess they didn't really let me, I just did it. I got in trouble sometimes for it, but that didn't really stop me. My favorite thing to do was go out in the summer rain with no shoes on. I remember pretending I was homeless and just playing in the puddles, not because I wanted to be, or even because that's what everyone was doing. I think I just did it because I could. Because my mind let me.

This place was the one place where everything seemed normal. It was the one time that there wasn't any teenage angst in my house, or any raised voices. The worst thing that could happen was we'd get grounded or lose our privileges to play with friends, which if that were the case we'd just slide down our stairs on sleeping bags. We didn't need friends, we just needed the ability to make our own fun.

We were all under the same God, if any God, and for a good couple of years nothing could change that. For a moment, we were the stereotype. The same type of Provo family that lived in that house, and that house, oh and that house right there. We were happy. We were reasonable. We were boring.

I loved it here. I will always love the memories I have here. I learned how to ride a bike in the same cul-de-sac where Annie was hit by a car...well I guess she actually more ran into a parked car than it running into her. I held my first snake on the river trail that was six steps away from my childhood house with the green shudders.

In Provo, we were the Woller's. But we'd get confused with the Johnson's, or the Hales, or the Smiths.

"What religion are you?"
"Mormon."
"Ya me too. What about you?"
"Mormon."
"Ya me too."
Because if you weren't, you defied the norm, and everyone knows if you ever challenge the norm there was something wrong with you. They didn't know why, they didn't need to know why, there just was.

Provo will always be a part of me. And I want it to be. I'm glad it is. I'm proud of Provo Jeannie. She learned a lot, grew up, and most importantly, she didn't stay Provo Jeannie.


In Sandy, we are the Woller's. But we don't get mistaken for the family down the road with four kids, two of which have served missions and are practically almost married. The family I have now is the no-bull-shit, loud, disruptive, swearing family that is figuring stuff out for ourselves. It may take us a bit longer than the families who have most things planned out for them, but we'll get there, and I'll be just as proud of every single one of us when we do, no matter if it takes ten, fifteen, hell maybe even thirty years. We aren't the norm, look at us however you'd like to, but we aren't the norm.



I went hiking the other day. Every few steps I had to kick the side of the mountain, just to make sure.