My Ode to I-15

        I found myself in Bountiful this weekend (which, for me, includes Monday seeing as I don't have class that day) and dinner on Monday night with my parents proved very insightful.  Our dinner conversations usually go something like this, "So, Dad, what pro bono case did you decide to tackle this week?" or "Mom, do you really have to stay at the hospital so late when you're technically off at 4:30?"  She's quite the over-achiever.  And then there's the inevitable quest which my dad always tries to pull on me - the incorrect pronunciation of words.  He does it on purpose.  He purposely tells me how to pronounce a word incorrectly just to see me trip all over it in a later conversation.  If you think there's a trace of cynicism in my personality, chalk it up to 24 years at 2860 S. Oakwood Dr.  I think it started in 8th grade when I was reading Moby Dick and mis-pronounced the word "frigate."  I did it once, and I'm now living with the consequences for the rest of this mortal sojourn.  There are others on the list, but I'll spare myself more humiliation.  On to the rest of the story....

As I was driving home with my dad we were reflecting on my upcoming graduation.  He's impressed that I haven't succumbed to crowdthink.  I'm impressed that I haven't gotten pulled over on one of the many treks from B-town to P-town.  I realized last night that I have spent more weekends in Bountiful in the six years that I've been at BYU than I have in Provo.  Wow.  That is kind of insane.  My dad has no complaints on that note, and honestly, neither do I.  I did have to drive back to Provo this morning to make it to my Italian Renaissance class at 9:30, and something amazing happened on the oh-so-familiar drive.  I discovered just how great I-15 really is - tons of mile markers that really bring a smile to my face when I think of the memories that go along with them.  I have great memories that can be pin-pointed to just about every exit along the freeway from Bountiful to Provo.  Away we go:

400 S. - Welcome to the Gap.  This is how I always got to work during Summer 2005

900/1300/2100 S. - the corner of ninth and ninth is home of the Coffee Garden.  Though 

an explanation could be useful on this one, I'm just going to leave it to the 

imagination - unless, of course, you already know the history.  Mmmm....Irish 

Steamers....

3300 S. - this one could be a stretch - no real attachment really, let's just keep driving

4500 S. - this was my exit for my oil painting class last Winter.  Come rain, snow, or shine - I always made the drive back to Provo looking like either a smurf, or an oompa-loompa

5300 S. - I visited my dad here when he had a collapsed lung.  Not that the event was 

something to celebrate, but every minute with my dad is precious

I-215 Interchange - ANN'S HOUSE!!!!  No explanation needed....

7200 S. - I never have to worry about where to find the right sapphire or diamond - Shane's my guy.  Open M-F till 8, Saturday till 5, closed Sunday.  Word up.

9000 S. - Occasional trips to Jordan Commons with Ann - I think we squealed like 3 year-

olds during "Spiderwick Chronicles" on the IMAX.  BAD idea.

10600 S. - Home of my dear friend Sister Back/Beck

12300 S. - the amazingly cool warehouse known as....IKEA - I have an affinity for their lamps

POINT OF THE MOUNTAIN - 22 miles and 20 minutes until Provo...

Thanksgiving Point - two words: Russian Kadrille (where is Derek Dean when I need 

him?!?!)

Mt. Timpanogos Temple - many nights during Freshman year found me here till  the wee hours of the morning 

Lindon - well, it's merely a time marker - 10 minutes till home

University Parkway Exit - you know how crazy that intersection is when you get off the 

freeway? - yeah - that's where my car died....right before my Chemistry final Freshman

year.  Rather nightmarish

Center Street - Here's my exit!  3 miles down the road but the ETA is much shorter

So, the point of this blog is to help you all realize that no matter how tedious those "auto-pilot" drives are that we have in our lives, they're actually full of wonderful memories that make the journey fly right by.  I know I've clocked this particular stretch many, many times (which is why I made reference to not being pulled over...), but soon enough, I know I'm gonna miss it - so instead of dreading the trip, I'm now finding all sorts of memories along the way that keep me smiling.  And there you have it my dear friends - my ode to I-15.