October 2012...

Someone should impound my car.
Reasoning?
Let's remember back a year... Oh yeah. Sid VS Dump truck.
Dump truck 1
Sid a very sad sad 0.

Hmm, one year later (Almost to the day, according to FB picture posts)

5 point, 30 inch buck VS Booth.
I'm thinking it was an even draw, because Bambi's father is headless on the side of the road, and I have to pay at least a $500 dollars deductible to fix Booth's flesh wounds.

Now, I'm sure you're all wondering two things:
"What's with the be-bodiment of Mr. Bambi?" and, "What in the world happened? Let's hear the story! Don't leave a single hyperbolic detail out!"

Let me assist your questioning with some answers. That Cherene, my aunt, can attest to.

Firstly, the story.
Saturday evening, 8:00 ish. Shannon loads up her little sisters to drive in a grumpyish, tired of work mood, to Panguitch for gas. Dad, and Aunt Cherene are in the truck and trailer behind us.
40 something dollars later, and lots of sisterly hugs, I'm back on the road with E driving to Hatch. Listening to Jenny Oaks Baker's new CD "When You Wish Upon a Star" and giggling about contactless passengers. Past the Y where you can turn to Red Canyon, I spot a deer. Not just any deer, but a MASSIVE deer.
(Since it's headless and there's no evidence we're hereby allowed to make up just how massive. Which is why for the sake of fish stories he's a five point, 32 inch buck.) (Except for in real life, I promise that thing was insanely large.)
My thoughts before impact, "Oh, there's a deer. Hey that's a really nice buck he's... AAAARRGG!!" (Audible squeal from both Shannon and the brakes), splat. Trembly freaking out feelings. Cry. Drama.
That's basically my Saturday evening.
I slammed on my brakes, but I didn't dare swerve. We skidded to a stop in the middle of the road.
E: "See if it'll start." "It's still running..." I start driving slowly, feeling out the damage. Smell burning rubber stenches, and we decide maybe we should pull over and call my dad.
He turns around from going back to Cedar, and comes back to check out the car.
Of course, we go in search of the deer with flash lights. We couldn't find that darn menace to society though.
So we drive back to Hatch, going 20 miles per hour because I'm freaked out and Booth is injured and I'm freaked out...
That's when I start stressing out majorly and feeling pretty flustered about the whole ordeal.
The good news is things always look brighter in the morning. I remembered reading something a couple days ago in my little notebook that I take church related notes in.
In the April session of General Conference, someone said "Faith isn't real faith until it's been tried." I thought, "Hmm. I don't really like the sound of that. I feel like I've grown a lot and I've got pretty good faith. I also feel like it hasn't really been tried yet, and I'm not sure I want to know how that turns out."
Irony? It's hard for me to believe. I'm leaning toward something a little bit more grand, like promptings, or forewarning. Coincidences aren't ever coincidence.
So, I failed round one of faith after smashing a new car. I was pretty upset Saturday night. But, I do know that in the past, things I was certain I couldn't pull off worked out in the end through Heavenly Father's help. It's usually not how I'd pick for it to work out, but it's usually a better option.

Welp. Back into the fray!