...considering that it's the Utah people I'm googling, I ought not to be surprised. Adolescent rebellion fades when they hit their twenties, I s'pose. Kids with blue hair are ultraconservative now; boys who kissed other boys are now rabidly antigay.
Me and bahtswana, we're still freaks.
Gods. Utah. Kanab, Utah. What a hellpit. One stoplight and over a dozen Mormon churches. A town the color of birdshit, smeared on a dusty desert floor. I was consigned to Kanab when I got out of the wilderness survival camp the second time, when my parents just flat-out gave up, when every drug and treatment had been exhausted and I still wasn't fixed. I spent my seventeenth birthday in the camp and my eighteenth in Kanab, and that very day, I moved out of the group home into a two-bedroom apartment over a store - a narrow staircase between two storefronts up to my place, staircase lined with bones I'd brought "home" from the camp, my collages all over the walls - taped directly to the walls. bahtswana used to sneak out of his house at night and climb up the damn wall, come in my window. Crazy little bastard. :)
Utah. *shakes head*