Oh the Playmill

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

The sign reads: "Bear Creek Pancake House." The street sign tells you you're traveling down "Firehole Avenue." And the "Playmill Theatre" sits waiting for actors to bring it to life. I recently went to visit some of my friends in West Yellowstone, Montana. It's a tiny town about 30 seconds away from Yellowstone National Park. My friends are there working for the summer as actors at Playmill (or "the mill" as it is so called at times) and have left me with no one to complain with that there is nothing to do in Rexburg. This semester has already thrown me some disappointment with not making the school play and being rejected from Comic Frenzy. I needed a get away. Just for one afternoon.

I was kind of worried about visiting. I wasn't apart of their summer experience. I didn't have anything interesting to share. Only weird inside jokes and awkward stories that always ended in "uh... yeah... well- you had to be there, I guess."

But visiting Playmill was exactly what I needed. My friends live in a motel (not even a hotel) that is decorated with furniture from Raising Arizona and photographs of wolves. It's run down and beautiful. I spent that Sunday afternoon in absolute bliss. Lounging around throwin back Capri Suns and Sunny D's, talking about everything and nuttin.

And while I'm happy where I am this summer, a change of scenery was so nice. To swing to a different breeze and to dance in different rain. But the swinging and the rain didn't make this Sunday good. Not even the twisty slide in the park made my day. It's never those things.

It's those friends who you can talk with and laugh with and sit in silence with that make life divine. The one's you can share a bowl of popcorn with and then say: "what were we just talking about?" Or the ones who laugh so hard that they broke your fake nail while playing a ridiculous game of intense thumb wrestling- but don't judge you and the fact that you have fake nails. Or the ones who you can roll down the windows with on the car ride home because for some reason you both have gas and aren't afraid to laugh about it.

God puts people in your life for a reason. I always hear: "You learn something from everyone you meet." I believe that. But I'm trying not to focus so hard on what it is I'm learning. Sometimes you just have to talk and play and sit. The greatest lessons come by the teachers that aren't even meaning to teach.

1 comment:

  1. I love your last line in this post. Too true.


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