quire of thoughts

Adios!

2010-06-10T13:02:00.001-05:00

Hello, friends!
I'm abandoning blogspot. Yup. I'm not abandoning the blogging world... just blogspot... for several different reasons.
From now on, you can follow me here.
Go on! Click. Don't bother coming here anymore.
kbye.

So Apeeling

2010-06-09T07:55:00.001-05:00

Dedicated to all who have tried to teach me to peel oranges in the past. I’m sorry you failed. I’m a bad learner.
(Caution: contains slightly violence)

I felt them calling my name as I walked through the kitchen on my way to the bedroom. I did my best to resist, but the urge was too strong. It was my fault, after all. I brought them into the apartment, and now there they sat, on the counter, mocking me. The perfect spheres of deliciousness, filled with incredible flavor and sweet, sticky juice that I knew would run down my chin the second I bit into one. But, alas, this amazing experience was not to be had until I could conquer the thick, stubborn skin that enveloped the food inside. These cursed oranges had been taunting me all day, knowing that I bought them in a moment of weakness. What possessed me to do it? I don’t know. I’d had battles with their kind before, and always failed. But something about their beauty, their perfection, called to me as I walked the aisles of Walmart, tempting me like sirens as they all sat, gleaming in perfect rows down the produce aisle. And now, here they were. Twelve perfect oranges, perched on the counter in my apartment, wrapped delicately in a mesh bag, waiting to be conquered.
And so I caved. I marched towards the tower of fruit, almost immediately selecting the perfect one to experience my prowess. A particularly pert appearing piece of fruit who was perched quite perkily at the very peak of the pile. His voice was the one I had heard most clearly as I walked through the kitchen; a sweet, mocking little one who desperately needed me to knock him down a peg. I plucked him from the top of the pile and set him on the counter, glaring down at him in hopes of softening his tough exterior. Weakening the enemy by crippling him with fear is an old and perhaps juvenile tactic, but I didn’t care. I wanted what was inside of that thick orange skin, and I was willing to play dirty to get it.
“You’re going down, Orange,” I told him in my fiercest voice. He merely looked up at me derisively, as if presenting a dare. I grabbed the orange in my left hand and gouged the top of him with my right thumbnail, clutching him as tightly as I dared- just enough to show him I was boss, but not enough to cause juice to run down my hand. It slipped out of my grasp and rolled down the counter in daring escape attempt; sneaky, but not sneaky enough. I ran to the other end of the bar and intercepted him, catching him as he threw himself off the edge. I placed him back on the counter and held him there with one hand, once again ramming my thumbnail beneath his skin. He protested, trying to slip out of my fist once again, but I held him firmly in place and slowly began to peel bits of his exterior away, gradually revealing the succulent fruit inside. The more I peeled, the less he protested, until he finally sat there, a sad little lump, defeated and devastated. He still had bits of skin stuck to him, and juice was trickling down his side and along the counter, creating a small river. “It’s too late to cry for mercy,” I informed him as I tore him in half, placing a chunk in my mouth.
I glanced to the side where the remaining pile of oranges sat. They watched in dismay as I savored their friend, visibly paling when I swallowed the last of him. “Just wait,” I told them. “Your time will come!” I left then, giving them time to dread their fate, and retrieved the keys to my car. My thumb hurt; I needed to buy an orange peeler.

sorry, Scotland.

2010-02-04T13:26:00.008-06:00

Now ladies and gentlemen, hear me out,
for I know this story is surprising
but you shouldn't be too shocked or scared
to learn the monster population is rising

Yes, it appears that the number of monsters
in our sweet world is increasing
and it seems that the space that is under my bed
is a place that one monster is leasing

She has four eyes (two appear to be glass)
and one very large, bright smile
I asked her if she'd be moving out soon
But I suppose she is staying awhile

She giggles and talks and laughs a lot
every night when I hit the sack
When I tried to feed her my teddy bear
she just laughed and threw him back!

She doesn't really seem to be dangerous
or even frightening or scary
still, I acknowledge, she IS a monster-
and so I will remain quite wary

She eats popcorn like a maniac
(I try not to sit there, gawking)
but she's not allowed coffee after five
or else she'll NEVER stop talking!

She is a very neat and orderly monster
her space underneath is not messy
and yesterday I inquired and found
that her name (of course) was Nessie!

It's actually quite thrilling to have my own monster
especially since she isn't a threat
and I'm perfectly happy to care for her...
provided she requires no vet

A to Zebedee.

2010-01-24T10:30:00.011-06:00

Chapel is something that a lot of people at Asbury complain about. We give up an hour out of our day three times a week to pack into an auditorium, sit in incredibly hard chairs, sing some songs, and listen to various faculty members, students, and other random individuals share nuggets of wisdom from the stage- some are amazingly challenging, some we can merely relate to, and some are as exciting as a cauliflower (which, according to a blogger named Ira Barrows, is the most
boring vegetable there is).

I usually enjoy chapel, though. I have gotten a lot out of those three hours a week since I started coming to school here... but Friday, I dragged my feet to chapel. It was cold, it was rainy, I just wanted to take a nap... and it was Alumni chapel, which meant that some person who graduated from Asbury in the 1800s was just going to stand up there and tell us all about how Asbury has changed so much ("I can't believe you girls can wear pants now!"), and how it was the greatest time of their lives and they're sure that it will be the greatest time of our lives too.

Well, the guy who talked was not from the 1800s. He was from the 1960s or some such era. He did tell us about how much Asbury had changed, but he also told us of the ways it had not changed... the awful food in the caf, for example. Chapel was another thing that hadn't changed, he said. And then, I realized even more how amazing the idea of chapel really is. For about 120 years, now, students have gathered together in Hugh's Auditorium. It's a time when all 1,300 or so of us are in one place, worshiping together and learning together.
How many schools do that?!

Here's what really stuck with me, though. He has two children here at Asbury- a freshman and a senior. And, because of those kids, he said he wanted to be like Zebedee. How many people say they want to be like Zebedee? David, yes. Esther, yes. Ruth, yes. But Zebedee?

Zebedee was the father of James and John:
"Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him."
(Matthew 4:21-22)

James and John were working in their father's boat, which means they were probably going to carry on their father's business. That is the dream of a lot of fathers! Yet, when Jesus comes along and says, "follow me," I can just imagine James and John turning to look at their dad... and he nods "yes... go ahead!"
I am not a parent... obviously. But I can somewhat imagine what it must be like to pour your life into your child for 18 years, and then suddenly send them off into the unknown, to fend for themselves. I suppose it would be like me sending my beloved camera off with a total stranger to be used for an unknown project in who-knows-what conditions, but times 38,474,543,54353.2938383.

But, my parents did this! While trying to make the decision about coming to Asbury, my parents supported me the whole way. They dropped everything to take a (last-minute!) trip up here so that I could interview. They prayed for me and encouraged me while I stressed over signing the dotted line that said I was, in fact, going to come to school here. They told me I was not allowed to take anything into account other than God's will for my life- not time, money, distance. The fact they let me make the decision on my own helped me to grow in so many ways... and they've been doing that my whole life. That must mean they have a lot of faith in God... and that they trust me. Which is amazing. Because I lose and forget everything.

When I was only fourteen, and I told them God wanted me to go to China, they told me "okay. Write a support letter and we'll take you to get your passport." When I was sixteen and I told them I felt God telling me to go to Malawi, they asked me where Malawi was (I think my response was something like, "uhhh.... let me go look on a map...") and then proceeded to help me, my brother, and four friends raise more than $20,000 to go. I decided to go to Peru on a trip in an afternoon- literally. It took about three hours from the time I started to consider going until I had my application in an envelope ready to mail off. My parents' response?
"Well... if you really need to go, have fun!"
My parents have given me so much freedom to do what I need to do, and as I result, I've been able to gain a better understanding of both God and the rest of the world... and myself!

So... thanks, Mom & Dad (otherwise known now as Mr. & Mrs. Zebedee)!

Zebedee could have given all the permission he wanted, but James and John had to have the courage to drop their fishing nets, walk away from what they knew, and follow Jesus. So yes, we have to have the courage to follow, but our parents also have to have the courage to LET us follow.
I know I'm just a lowly teenager, and I have no right to tell parents how to raise their children. But, I just want to point out that parents like Zebedee raise
children like James & John.
I'm not saying that I'm anything like James & John... not even close... but I hope to have some of that courage one day, and later, when I have kids, I want to be like Zebedee. Like MY parents. =)

I have learned to fully appreciate the luxury of chairs.

2009-12-30T20:59:00.003-06:00

My parents have a treadmill. They bought it after I moved away, and when I returned, it was to find a very (very) large treadmill sitting in our living room. As far as I have observed, it is only occasionally used- really, just more of a thing to set smaller objects on when you don't know what to do with them. Purses, jackets, random pairs of shoes... and, for amusement, you can hit the "on" button as you walk by and see the fantastic assortment go flying through the air and land in the kitchen.
For Christmas, it got moved across the room and ended up more as part of the living room furniture, rather than a random piece of exercise equipment pushed against the wall. The Christmas tree took it's place, as a random piece of... well, Christmas decoration... pushed against the wall.
All that to say, tonight we moved every bit of furniture out of our living room (don't ask why) except for the treadmill... no- that, we folded up and pushed in front of the piano, effectively hindering any random person who should develop the urge to give a musical performance in the next three days. I'm sitting here now (on the floor, since we have no furniture), and I promise that it is slowly unfolding itself... every few minutes when I look up, I'm quite sure that it is slightly more open than before. I'm struggling with whether I should anticipate or dread the loud crashing noise it will certainly make soon. On one hand, perhaps I should actually motivate myself to get up and fix it. On the other hand, I'm sure the looks on my parents' faces when they come out of their room to investigate the noise will be worth whatever damage is inflicted upon my ears.

My days lately have been filled with cleaning, eating my mother's amazing food, reading (as much as physically possible), and frying 40 pounds of ground hamburger (an activity closely connected to the lack of furniture in my house right now). I have been able to combine all of the above occupations, too, resulting in a wonderful accomplishment of multi-tasking. I've also managed to work in a few dates with Jonathan, playing with Legos with the two-year-olds in my life, losing stuff (a lot of stuff), intense games of Scrabble with Grandma and Grandpa, competing with Dad for the last of the coffee in the pot, and avoiding any more dead batteries in the Klunker (you'll be glad to know, Caleb).

Madelyn spilled mashed potatoes on the floor on Christmas day. When Dad invited Pete (our faithful, ridiculously smart, but grotesquely smelly dog) inside to "clean it up," poor Pete had no idea what to do. Since he is usually met with yells, kicking feet and angry eyes when he attempts to venture into the house, there is no doubt that he wondered what kind of awful booby trap we had created to torture him, using- of all things- mashed potatoes smeared across the floor to lure him in. Once he crossed the threshold, however, and no barbs came flying through the air to puncture his flawless skin, he decided that it must be safe. He laid down on the floor, freely showing the world everything that God had blessed him with, and begain to lick at the potatoes in a manner that suggested that he would, begrudgingly, eat the people-food, if we INSISTED. After the floor was sufficiently cleaned (and the kitchen had started to take on a very distinct Pete odor), we kicked him back out. The poor, confused dog has once again been greeted by those kicking feet and hostile tones everytime he tries to come back inside- such as tonight, when we were moving every stitch of furniture out of our living room.

I am filled with both relief at having no homework to do, and an overwhelmedness (is that a word?) at all of the enjoyable things I have to do. So many books to read, friends to spend time with, and non-caf meals to eat. I enjoy having a queen-sized bed to sleep in (some nights), no smelly Frankenstein to freeze up my life, or classes to run to (in the rain). But, I also kind of miss living out of a real dresser and closet, eating with the same people every day, being within walking distance of Chinese food, and arguing with the computers in the radio station.
Of course, it'll come back soon enough.

Oh...I got an ice scraper for Christmas, in case you were curious. Here I come, Kentucky morning ice! You are no longer a match for me.
My ID card is breathing a sigh of relief, I'm sure.

If anyone has any doubt about what to get me for Christmas... I need an ice scraper.

2009-12-10T14:48:00.006-06:00

113 days ago, me, my mother, my father, and my poor klunker packed up and made the journey from home to here.

4 (large) boxes of granola bars, 3 packages of uni-ball pens, 4 packs of wide-ruled notebook paper, approximately 70 hours in a radio station, one snowball, countless bags of popcorn, something like 12 cartons of Tropicana juice, 12 tests, 19 papers, 4 major radio projects, 2 speeches, many dollar movies, a package of cough drops, MANY MANY MANY cups of coffee, one ruined load of laundry, and a few breakdowns later, I am prepared to share the most important lesson that I have learned this semester with you.

Are you ready?

Really?

It's pretty intense.

Okay.

Here we go.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Drum roll please.

The biggest lesson I've learned in my 113 days since coming here is...

When you eat a bowl of grits, ALWAYS wash your dishes immediately. Do NOT "leave them for tomorrow."

Just kidding. (Although that is a very important lesson that I DID learn.)

I actually can't pick out the most important lesson I've learned.
But here are a few of the top ones:
1. check the dryer before you use it.
2. always double check that your settings are right before you hit "record."
3. do NOT eat the caf meatloaf.
4. if you burn yourself, put mustard on it (it actually works, I swear!).
5. don't take allergy medication just before you have to drive three hours (then again, this might be a good opportunity to discover how strong of a reaction you actually have to Benadryl!)
6. don't leave your iPod in an open pocket of your backpack when it's raining.
7. crinkly yarn is hard to crochet with.
8. if your eye turns red, gets itchy, and your vision gets blurry, it's not a good thing.
9. a bag of frozen peas can work wonders for an injured knee.
10. racquetball left-handed (if you're a righty) is not the smartest idea in the world (particularly if your racquetball skills are sub-par to begin with).
11. naps are goooood, but sometimes the pain of waking up and dragging yourself to class is just not worth it; you may be better off just staying awake.
12. christmas lights are awesome, but don't assume that your roommate will turn theirs off at night.
13. clothes make a pretty good rice krispies imitation (snap, crackle, pop...) when you forget to use softener.
14. hit "save" every 3.9789789078 seconds.
15. Adobe Audition is not a friend to the impatient.
16. if you carry dry-erase markers in your backpack, put them in a ziplock bag. sometimes, they DO leak, and you could end up with all purple stuff.
17. there are some things more important in life than fixing your bed.

Maybe the chicken and the pig should just take the farmer to an amusement park.

2009-11-11T20:59:00.005-06:00

A lot has changed for me in the last three months...
I've developed an addiction to Tropicana Fruit Juice, I have learned how to crochet hats, and I've started showering at night, versus in the morning. I've increased my chocolate milk intake (I know... you didn't think that was possible, did you?), I've gone four months without reading a novel, I've learned how to play racquetball (which goes much more smoothly right-handed than left), and I've begun eating an average of two bananas a day.
I remember sitting at a family reunion what seems like just a few months ago and thinking, "the next time I do this, I will have finished an entire semester at Asbury already!" I remember the idea scared me to death... I guess knowing that I would have already lived so far from home for so long and gathered that much experience was intimidating.
But, the next family reunion is getting closer and closer, and while I'm extremely excited about both the reunion AND the fact that a whole semester will be over, I'm also kind of wishing that I could hit the brakes and slow time down a little bit- this semester has gone so fast, and I'm not quite ready to be done with it yet.

I think I've found my niche- at least, for this season of my life- here at Asbury. The classes are challenging, but that's what I needed. The professors are tough, but they are also incredibly encouraging, not only constantly doing their best to help me achieve what I want to achieve, but encouraging me to go even beyond that. The projects are intense, but the late nights and crazy days when I'm quite sure I'll never accomplish what I need to do are really what give me energy. My schedule next semester looks really intimidating, but at the same time I can't WAIT to jump in and get up to my elbows in projects again! I'm SO excited about going home for Thanksgiving, and then Christmas, but I'm also kind of dreading going a month without seeing the people that I eat lunch with, study with, laugh with, and have breakdowns with every day here.
My favorite part about this place is how God is just everywhere-- from my Media & Society class, where we're studying the life of Joseph, to my Spanish class, where my Prof prays (in Spanish... I've never put much thought into God being multilingual before) for each of our prayer requests, to my random conversations with my Radio Production Prof (who just oozes God's love!) in the hall. It's kind of crazy, really. You can't escape it here.

Last week was Great Commission Congress week- basically, a week that was totally focused on missions. I came to a lot of realizations that it's hard to describe in words, about following God's will. Something that God has really been challenging me with since I got here was the idea that no matter WHAT he calls us to, he will provide us with the necessary "supplies." I had a hard time making the decision to come to Asbury, but now that I am here, I know that I'm where God wants me (for now), and he has given me EXACTLY what I needed to make it! When I was second-guessing my decision to come here, I was afraid I wouldn't have what it took to survive- and I don't think I did, then. But I think the process of deciding to move here, along with the transition, helped grow me in huge ways, and now, looking back, I can see just how God equipped me with what I needed to make it- WHEN I needed it... not early, and not too late.
And so, the more I think about it... if God can give me what I need to move to Kentucky, to live with people I've never met before, take classes that will stretch me beyond anything that has stretched me before, and eat cafeteria food for 2 years, surely he can give me what I need for anything else he has in store for my life!

I know, this shouldn't be a novel idea... it's something that I've "known" for my whole life. I'm sure it's something that Mrs. Ruthie taught me in Sunday School back at MCF, that Gene has preached about, and that Chris has taught about. But I think a lot of concepts like that are things that we have to experience to truly understand. Jumping out of my comfort zone is not something I'm comfortable with (Thank you, Captain Obvious), but I've witnessed a really huge Not-Comfort Zone Area (NCZA) become my comfort zone... and even now, as I'm contemplating doing things are are even further into the NCZA, I'm not nearly as intimidated as I would have been six months ago.

Here's another idea I've been mulling over.
The speaker at Great Commission Congress week told us this story:
Once upon a time, there was a chicken and a pig. They both lived on the same farm, and they both really loved the farmer- he took care of them, treated them well, and they wanted to show their appreciation to him. They bounced a few ideas off of each other, but, I mean... they were a chicken and a pig. How much could they really DO? But then, the chicken had an idea. He suggested, "hey, why don't we make the farmer a big, nice breakfast one morning? We can make him ham and eggs!" and the pig responded, "Well... that's easy for you to say!"

The idea: we're not supposed to be chickens. We are supposed to be pigs. (That's the only time someone will TELL you to be a pig.)
We're supposed to be willing to give up EVERYTHING... even our lives... for God. Not just small things, like eggs that we won't miss anyway. Another idea that shouldn't be novel, but one that I saw in a new way, because this time I actually sat down and made a list of things and people that I could possibly have to give up in order to do what God wants me to do. And, quite frankly, after seeing what happened when I did something as small as moving to Kentucky to follow God, I'm feeling quite sure that it - whatever IT is - is worth it! My biggest surprise was my sudden willingness- I mean, following God's will for my life is something that I've always said I would do... but it was with a going-to-the-dentist attitude. I'll do it, because it's good for me, but I will NOT be happy about it! (Sorry, Dr. Shirley.) Now, though, I suddenly have this really strong... WANT... to do what God wants. The most confusing part of this revelation for me was WHY I suddenly had this... want. Desire. Wish. Whatever synonym you wish to put in there.
THEN, I had ANOTHER revelation! I know, I know... where is all this stuff coming from?!

See, I was thinking (I know. Surprise!) and I was thinking about amusement parks. If a group of people from school that I didn't really know decided to go to an amusement park, and they invited me along, there is actually a good chance I wouldn't go. Sure, it would be an experience, but spending an entire day at an amusement park with people I didn't really know, spending money I didn't need to spend, wouldn't be that much fun! I would spend all of my time wishing I was with people I loved. However, if it was a group of my close friends, I would COME UP with the money, I'd get homework done ahead of time, and I'd do whatever it took to go, because spending a day with them like that would be FUN! Even doing something normally un-fun, like picking up trash in Wilmore, or studying for an Old Testament test, is fun with them. So, I guess God is the same way. The better you know him, the more you WANT to do stuff with him! And it doesn't even really matter what it is your doing... the better of friends you are with him, the more fun it will be!

So, recap? If you're a pig that is good friends with God, the amusement park (which is in your NCZA) will be fun, and God will give you just the amount of money and patience that you need to enjoy the rides.

I don't know if any of that even made sense. But I tried.

It was a beautiful day in the hundred acre woods.

2009-10-31T15:34:00.002-05:00

May I just say that Fall here is much prettier than Fall at home?

All it takes to complete a gorgeous day like this is a bottle of chocolate milk...

...and a bench to sit on (for ~~daydreaming~~ homework purposes).

I need a boat!

2009-10-10T12:59:00.003-05:00

It keeps raining here.... and it won't stop.
Everyone is wearing rain boots, we have to roll up our jeans to prevent the wetness from climbing up them and freezing us to death (the drainage here is... nonexistent), and teachers tell us, "Quick! RUN to your next class before it starts raining again!"
As everyone starts buying umbrellas and memorizing the dry paths from building to building, we are clinging to Genesis 9:8-11.
Yesterday, my friend Rylee and I set out for our daily trip to the Luce (the "Physical Recreation Center" here on campus). I was relieved as I glanced out the window to see that it was not raining, for the moment... but, of course, the second we stepped out the door to begin the walk there, the Heavens opened and the rain started to fall. It was quite fortunate that we met our friend Kristen on the sidewalk just outside of our building. It was more fortunate that she was carrying an umbrella... and it was MOST fortunate that she was willing to let us have it, since she was about to be under a roof anyway. She handed it to us, cautioning, "But be careful with it... it has some problems." Thinking, "what kind of problems can an umbrella have?", we took it and made our hike to the Luce.
Upon entering the Luce, the rain stopped.
Upon exiting the Luce, the rain started again. Not heavily, but there was definitely water falling from the sky.
It was okay, though... because we had an umbrella!
Rylee, the Expert Umbrella Person, pressed the button that makes the umbrella pop open... and was left with nothing but the handle in her hand, as the rest of the umbrella flew down the steps and started it's own journey down the sidewalk, into the rain. It left Rylee speechless with shock and me speechless with laughter as we ran to catch it and reattach it to the handle.
Apparently, THAT is the kind of problem an umbrella can have.

Update: Air Fresheners can only do so much good.

2009-10-06T19:38:00.004-05:00

Have I introduced you to Frankenstein?
I believe he was mentioned in my previous blog, but was not properly presented.
Frankenstein is the heating/cooling unit that resides in my dorm room.
He smells bad.
We came up with a temporary solution, and we requested a maintenance person to come try to fix him... but to no avail.
Yet, after much research, investigation, and analysis of the problem, a conclusion has been made.
Frankenstein only smells bad when it rains.
The kind man from maintenance who paid a visit to Frankenstein last week informed me that I was crazy. He claimed that Frankenstein did not smell bad at all... which, once I got closer and took a whiff as well, I discovered was true! I was quite aggravated with Frankenstein, because I assumed he was pulling one of those tricks that inanimate objects often pull on us... you know, when they suddenly behave as soon as other people around, making you look like a liar?
Since we had just rearranged the furniture in our room (which, by the way, now looks fabulous) he attributed the smell to the fact that there used to be a bed pushed up against Frankenstein. He tried to convince me that there must have been some sort of old food, dirty dishes, or nasty laundry tucked up under my bed, and that Frankie was pulling the odor up through the air intake that way. My confidence that said space was actually quite clean and nice was not enough to convince him otherwise.
Nevertheless, his visit (although he did NOTHING but argue with me) seemed to make a difference, for ever since he came Frankie has been quite odorless. Perhaps just the presence of another male in the room was enough to cheer him up and make him behave (yes, we are quite sure that Frankenstein is male... nothing female could create such a stench).
So finally, today, after frantically running from class to class in the rain, and then joyously puddle-stomping my way back to the dorm, I was shocked upon entering my room, for the putrid, pungent perfume that permeated the place was purely reprehensible. (Say that five times fast.)
So, out of respect, Nessie (my roommate) and I gave Frankenstein the benefit of the doubt and discussed the possibility that it might not be him. Perhaps (such a horrifying thought!), one of us could be the problem! We did a thorough inventory of possible smell-producing practices that could possibly take place in our abode, to no avail.
We vacuum regularly.
We always wash the dishes.
We seal up food.
We don't let dirty laundry pile up.
We shower regularly.
We both use deodorant.
Yet, something smelled bad... and it was certainly coming from Frankie's corner.
I replaced the Bounce sheets covering part of his vent, but it was still repulsive.
Suddenly, it dawned on us that Frankie only smells bad when it rains.
This is a quite perplexing and extremely frustrating situation.
Our room stinks, at no fault of ours, AND the maintenance man thinks I'm a crazy blonde who leaves dirty socks under her bed (the latter of which is NOT TRUE.)
Maybe we need to buy Frankie an umbrella?

The Poor Man's (or Poor College Student's) Air Freshener

2009-09-25T11:46:00.003-05:00

Tired of your dorm room smelling bad? Does your heating/cooling unit emit odors that are typically only found in the depths of your brother's bedroom? Is the stench coming from your air vent practically debilitating at night? Too poor or too much of a miser to buy an air freshener?

NEVER FEAR!
The College Student's Air Freshener is here!

Supplies:

one (or two, or three) dryer sheet(s) (I prefer Bounce because it gives off a very strong, clean smell... and also because it's the kind my mom bought me before she left me here.)
one heating/cooling unit (if you don't already have one of these installed in your room, there is really no point in you doing this project anyway, so don't worry about it. If you truly feel the need to create your own air freshener, by all means, go BUY a unit and have it installed... but if you can do that, you could probably just save a step and go buy an air freshener from Wal-Mart.)
Scotch tape or magnets (I use smiley face magnets. There is no particular reason.)

Directions:

Use tape or magnets to fasten one, two, or even three dryer sheets over the air vent on your heating/cooling unit, like so:

that's all.
really, it's that easy.
The air passing through the dryer sheets will immediately be freshened, resulting in a wonderful, clean smell permeating your room

*disclaimer: if your heating/cooling unit emits particularly strong and terrible odors (like mine actually does), this method may only be semi-effective. You may need to take more aggressive action, like contacting the maintenance men on campus to come clean the nasty thing out.

I'm telling you, this is a good plan.

2009-09-23T11:23:00.006-05:00

In case you've never visited the Opryland Hotel in Nashville...
well, you should go visit.
It's a wonderful place to explore, get lost in, take pictures of, and, of course, spend time with someone you're rather fond of (this is especially fun if you haven't seen that person in over a month).

Once you've done that, you need to go to Radnor Lake Park and go hiking. Be sure to take the Ganier Ridge Trail if you want a real workout; but be warned, it's enough of a hike that you don't want to take your camera... so you can't document the fun you will have. Watch for all of the deer that don't even seem to be afraid of people, and notice the numbers on the benches along the trail- several of them (number 37, for instance) have either been stolen or eaten by wild animals.

I'm telling you. This is the ideal way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

On the first day of college, my prof said to me...

2009-09-18T16:04:00.000-05:00

A Dozen Things I Have Learned Since I Moved to College:

1. Popcorn is a very good option for 1:00 am study food. It's easy, it's not overly unhealthy, and one bag is just about the right amount for one night of reading.
2. When you live with an art major, you should never, EVER touch ANYTHING in the room without asking first. There is a good chance she is in the middle of drawing it, and will flip out if it moves one millimeter to the left.
3. You can never have too much Germ-X
4. Bananas are a good food to eat on the run. They have a natural wrapper, so you know it hasn't been contaminated, it fits perfectly in your hand, it doesn't take too long to eat, and that "wrapper" is biodegradable, so if you can't find a trash can, no one cares if it ends up in the flower bed outside the student center.
5. Never trust cafeteria coffee.
6. Just because the food in the cafeteria looks good doesn't necessarily mean it TASTES good.
7. Never start discussing books with an English major.
8. Separating your laundry into whites & colors is not nearly as important as your mother would like you to believe. Your whites won't get noticeably "dingy," as long as you've washed your colored clothes before, they won't bleed, and you save about 1/2 cup of soap, a dryer sheet, AND $2 every time if you just put them all together.
9. If your roommate has serious reactions to caffeine, do NOT allow her to drink Mountain Dew, Red Bull, or any other such drink past 5 pm.
10. Buy a sturdy alarm clock. It will be used a lot.
11. Hanging your student ID card on a lanyard around your neck is still not a guarantee it won't get lost.
12. When it rains, use the sidewalk.

And that was my week.

2009-09-17T16:02:00.004-05:00

riiiiiing. riiiiiing.
Thank you for calling Google. Press "one" for customer service. Press "two" for information about one of our products. Press "three" for information about censoring or removing information from our search engine. Press "four" for information about job opportunities...
(no matter which one of these buttons you push, it's going to take you to another, similar menu, which will lead you to a third menu, which will bring you back to this menu, so there was really no point in you making this phone call.)

Later...
riiiiiing. riiiiiing.
Thank you for calling Starbucks. How may I help you?
(Just kidding. We don't take student inquiries. My bad.)

Later...
riiiiiing. riiiiiing.
♫YAHOOOOOOOOOO!♫
Thank you for calling Yahoo! Press "one" for information about one of our products. Press "two" for information about job opportunities. Press "three" to speak to a representative.
BEEP.
Thank you for calling Yahoo! How may I direct your call?
(Sorry. We don't take student inquiries either.)

Later...
riiiiiing. riiiiiing.
Thank you for calling McDonald's. How may I direct your call?
(Sorry, but due to the high volume of calls we receive, I doubt I'll be able to connect you with anyone. so I'm not even going to try. You can go to our webpage and do this and this and this, but I seriously doubt you'll ever hear from anyone. Don't waste your time.)

Later...
riiiiiing. riiiiiing.
Thank you for calling Apple. How can I help you today?
(Oh? What's that? You're a student? Well, that means it's okay to be extremely rude to you, then hang up on you before you even get a chance to thank me for wasting my valuable time on you..)

Later...
riiiiiing. riiiiiing.
Thank you for calling Disney! How can I help you today? Oh, I can definitely help you with that. Let me connect you to the right person. You have a magical day.
riiiiiing. (Lacey does a happy dance) riiiiiing.
"Hello. The person you are calling, [insert name here], is not available at this time. Please leave a message."
BEEEEEP.

Later...
Disney never did call back.

The Klunker finally got out of the cage.

2009-09-06T08:47:00.005-05:00

I suppose it's time to stop letting my belongings update for me, and tell you a little bit of what I'VE been up to lately.
My days for the last two weeks have consisted of going to class first thing in the morning, eating lunch, catching a 20 minute nap, going to another class, spending a couple of hours studying or working on projects (or at least pretending to do so) and then spending the evening in whatever sort of mischief my new friends and I can create.
Out of my six classes, I have a pretty good ratio of classes I like to classes I don't like. Two of them are "I would rather drink a cocktail of mushrooms and ramen noodles than go to class" (and if you know me, you know that's extreme dislike), two more are "ah, I suppose I have to go to class now... oh well..." and the last two are "YES! I get to go to class now!" which is a pretty positive thing, considering those two are my media classes (I'm taking that as a sign that I'm headed in the right direction...).
I have been buried in an avalanche of papers and projects already, but most of the projects are for my Radio Production class (which fits into category #3), so it's all good. I've found myself in that "artist mode" as I work on my current (and first "real") project; staring at my computer, absently eating pretzels, and having no idea what time it is until I suddenly realize my roommate is back... and has been for an hour. I only slip into that "mode" when I'm doing something I love, so I'm quite excited about this. Speaking of artist mode, if there is one valuable lesson I've learned, it's that I should never, let me repeat NEVER, speak to Nessie (my roommate) when she is in artist mode. That's a good story that I will probably never tell, because I feel bad about it.
I've been spending quite a lot of time with the group of people I started began this adventure with (my TAG group), particularly Rylee (who shares my love of books), Beracah (who shares my love of coffee), J.P. (who shares my love of cameras) and Kyle (who shares my love of traveling). Last Sunday Rylee, J.P, Kyle and I tried a new church in Lexington- Vineyard Community Church- about a 30 minute drive from the school. We all REALLY enjoyed it, and we plan on going back, at least for the next few Sundays because the pastor started a sermon series last week that we were all quite enthralled with.
This week, however, I'm missing the Sunday morning journey because I finally pulled the Klunker out of the Cage (it was SO EXCITED), loaded up a few of my belongings, and made the 3 hour trek to Huntingburg, Indiana to visit my cousins Shannon, Chadd, L.B. (who actually has yet to be born), and Crystal (who doesn't really live here, but just happened to be visiting the same weekend as me. What luck!). Shannon and Chadd pulled up the old flooring in their kitchen (which consisted of old linoleum and carpet) last week, and I found the three of them on the floor scraping up old glue remains when I arrived. A couple hours and a few servings of Chinese food later, we declared that job done, and Saturday morning (yesterday), Chadd and a friend of theirs started the actual laying of ceramic tile on the floor. It turned out quite beautifully, but we are not allowed to walk on it for 24 hours (or else we might damage it, and Chadd would kill us with a fork). This has only posed a few problems, as we continually realize things that are in the kitchen that we need (such as silverware), but we're making it. They also "tiled" the coffee pot into the kitchen, so Chadd had to make a coffee run to a gas station for us this morning.
I suppose that's really all that's been going on. I've been staying out of trouble for the most part, Nessie and I are still getting along quite well (other than the artist mode incident), and I haven't failed any tests yet (of course, I haven't TAKEN any tests yet, either...)

Self-Typed

2009-09-01T14:17:00.002-05:00

Dear People,
I have no idea what that grumpy old Klunker is talking about. This place has been nothing but hectic; I never know what is going to happen next. One minute I'm happily sitting on Lacey's desk in her dorm room, and the next I'm suddenly shoved into a dark bag that feels like a cave, and I can feel myself being thrown through the air! I have to sit in this cave for long periods of time, and occasionally I can feel myself floating, as if I am being carried from place to place. A couple of times the bag I am in is jolted, rather hard, as if it hits something going pretty fast. I can hear voices while I'm in there; sometimes girly, excited voices and sometimes a mixture of girl voices and guy voices. I get pulled out of the bag sometimes, in all kinds of different buildings. My favorite is a room that is full of chairs and tables, and through a window near me I can see rows and rows of my cousins! All of my cousins are much bigger than me, and they don't seem to get around much, but I am hoping that one day Lacey will take me into that room so I can get to know them better.
The Asbury network is so busy. There are other computers constantly logging on and off; it makes some jobs very difficult.
I have been working very hard since coming to this place; it feels as if I am constantly working to keep up with all that Lacey demands of me. Microsoft Word, Aperture, Firefox, iCal... she is changing programs constantly. Right now Microsoft Word is her favorite program, and she has been working on something called a "Radio Station Critique." I'm not sure what that is, but she has been listening to several different radio stations online, and then she sits and stares at my clock, writes down random numbers, and enters them into Word. She also has an essay going for, I believe, a class called Media & Society. Right now, the name of the paper is "Title." I hope she changes that before she prints it out.
I've been working hard to be a trooper. I heard a rumor from the PC that lives with me that there is a place Lacey can take me if I should get sick, and Lacey won't even have to pay for it! I am very excited about that, because I have seen the bank statement Lacey's mom sent her laying on her desk, and I feel like if that place wasn't around, I would be left to die should anything happen.
Well, I need to go. I can hear Lacey coming and I'm sure she'll want to check her facebook or something.
-Mac

It's hard to type with tires instead of fingers.

2009-08-25T20:40:00.003-05:00

Dear Lacey's Blog Readers,
I am here to ensure that you are not deceived into believing that Lacey is enjoying herself here at Asbury College. The truth is, she is miserable. I know this for a fact! How can she enjoy herself when she spends so little time with me? I used to practically be her second home. She was with me all the time, going from her job to church to school to home... now, after hooking me up behind the Suburban (I can NOT believe she forced me to suffer such an indignity- being TOWED by a bigger vehicle! As if I can't fend for myself! I was mortified!) for a LOT of miles, she parked me in a parking lot with numerous other small vehicles- and left me there for two full days! By the time she came back to me, my doors made a peeling sound when she opened them! And, after I got myself all worked up and excited, thinking we were actually going somewhere of interest, she merely drove me about a half a mile to a parking lot full of MORE small vehicles! The Nissan next door told me it is called "The Cage," and that cars that get parked there very rarely get to leave. I am appalled. I go from almost literally getting my wheels run off to being put in a CAGE?! Granted, the very next day we did get to go on a trip to a place called Lexington, but it only lasted about an hour and then I was put back in "The Cage." To make matters worse, the spot I was in last time was full, so I did not get to be beside the friendly Nissan again. It's quite lonely out here all alone. I mean, I am surrrounded by many other cars, but only the ones next to me are close enough to have a decent conversation with, and they don't seem at all interested in talking to me. I've seen Lacey a couple of times, walking past to the big building up on the hill the Nissan called "The Luce." A lot of the kids around here walk up there pretty regularly. I'm not sure what they do in there, but they always come back out looking quite hot and sweaty. Tonight they did an odd thing on the grass in front of "The Luce." Some girls ran around kicking a black and white ball. There was a lot of yelling, and almost everyone was wearing purple. One time, the ball almost came into "The Cage" and busted the windshield of a Jeep! It was quite funny (but the Jeep didn't think so).
I'm looking forward to when Lacey can quit running around this tiny little campus and come spend some time with me. I think a trip to Indiana might be fun- I heard Lacey mention that we might go on one on her cell phone the day we went to Lexington. The Nissan did tell me that eventually all the kids come and get their cars, and they all get to go home for a while; but then they end up coming right back to "The Cage." After about two years of this game, according to rumors, the cars quit coming back to "The Cage," and we are all a little scared of where they may disappear to. Certainly, it can't be worse than this. Well, I must run before Lacey gets back. I wouldn't want her to know I'm telling you all this. If one of you happens to be coming through here, though, and has a spare key to me, I would not mind at all being rescued! I'm afraid my wheels won't turn the same after this.
Sincerely,
The Klunker

it's such a relief to have internet that WORKS.

2009-08-24T16:23:00.004-05:00

Greetings, readers!
I have some bad news. But I also have some good news! And then some more good news! Then I have a little bit more bad news, followed by some fantastic news, followed by some really good news! Ready? Here we go:
The bad news:
Classes started today.
The good news:
This means orientation is over, and I am able to get into a routine and start having something to focus on other than how hard the seats are in the Hughes Auditorium (although I will be reminded of this every Monday, Wednesday and Friday in Chapel).
The some more good news:
I survived the first day of classes gracefully. I found all the right classrooms, my teachers are nice, I didn't trip or spill my book bag at all, and I only got lost once.
The little bit of bad news:
I am highly intimidated about my Spanish class. I don't know what's going on in there already... and all we did was go over the syllabus!
The fantastic news:
Dr. Owens (the dean of the School of Communications) was able to get me into another MediaComm class- Media & Society. This makes a total of 2 media classes and 4 gen-ed classes; much more of a fun mix than 1:5.
The really good news:
Since I added another media class, I had to drop one gen-ed class; and I got to choose which one, because the media class didn't overlap anything. I chose Philosophy... partly because just the idea of the class frightens me, and partly because I was told the professor I got was terrible.

Today I only had Understanding the Old Testament and Spanish, then, of course, Chapel. Starting on Wednesdays I will also have Media & Society starting at one. Tomorrow I have three more classes- all of which SEEM to be okay, but we shall see. One is Radio Production- another intimidating but very exciting one. It's looking like it'll be at least another semester before I get my hands on a camera, which is okay (although my hands start to get a little itchy every time I walk past Corbitt Hall, the MediaComm building).
After Chapel this morning I made my way to the computer lab to get my new schedule- and sat down in front of an iMac for the first time in my life. I heard angels singing to me as I clicked the "log in" button. It was a truly beautiful moment.
Today I made a very successful trip into Nicholasville for Walmart, and then Lexington for a wireless router for my room- I got very fed up with being plugged into a wall all the time. That was followed by a two hour nap, which I enjoyed immensely.
I have dinner with my TAG group tonight- I'm looking forward to that. I've only seen a couple of them today in all of the running around.

You can see pictures that I posted of the campus, my dorm and my roomie on facebook- facebook.com/lacey.hochstetler ... just add me as a friend. =)

and... action!

2009-08-21T17:27:00.004-05:00

To quote the great movie, "Horton Hears a Who," "we are here, we are here, we, are, HERE!"
I have finally arrived! And I am being THOROUGHLY "oriented." After being run RAGGED all day yesterday trying to keep up, today we were put in hard, wooden chairs for hours at a time listening to the history of the college, information about the library, curfews, dress codes, the school post office, and how we need to set aside time to study along with all the other things we can get involved with on campus.
We have all been divided into "small groups" of students, with two leaders. The groups are designed to help make our "transition" into Asbury easier; my group is made up entirely of transfer students- some sophomore and some junior. Up until today, our group has had a bit of a hard time "meshing," but after taking class pictures we were clearly delineated by our classes because of the shirts. While waiting for our TAG leaders to let us go to supper afterward, we kind of defaulted into two groups- the red shirts (sophomores) and the blue shirts (juniors). As I sat there in the grass with the other juniors, someone finally confessed that they also were irritated with all of the reminders about studying and stuff that anyone who had ever gone to college before would know about. Several of us QUICKLY agreed, and we decided that they should have a seperate orientation for transfers. We immediately started to bond as we realized we were all feeling the same thing. As one of the girls put it, "Oh, good! Your unhappiness makes me so happy!" After that, it was much easier to start attaching names with faces and places and majors, and the 7 or 8 of us talked for quite a while over supper tonight. (There are only two TAG groups of transfers, making up a total of about 30 transfer students, and only 13 of them are juniors.)

Last night there were games and "fun things" on the softball field for all the new students. I was looking forward to it as much as I look forward to going to the dentist, to be quite honest. I was hoping to just go to my room and get some rest- I was so tired of people, and I had been having a hard time really making friends with anyone. However, my RA told me I REALLY needed to go, because it was our first meeting with our TAG group and a good chance to meet people. Meeting MORE people was the last thing in the world I wanted to do, but I went anyway. After we got done playing some... interesting.... games, we met our TAG groups. As ours was sitting in a circle on the ground, I noticed the girl across from me was wearing an Africa necklace. I thought that was interesting, but didn't think too much about it until later I noticed again and I got a really strong feeling that I needed to ask her about it. So, on the walk back to the dorm, I caught up with her and asked her why she wore it. She told me she had lived in Africa for a year and a half. I asked her where, and she said, "oh, a small little country... you've probably never heard of it. It's called Malawi."
I'm sure I looked quite strange at that moment, because I felt my eyes get bigger and I started to wave my arms around and squeak quite loudly at her... when I finally calmed down, I'm sure she was sufficiently freaked out. I've spent some time with her today, and we've shared stories of Black Cat peanut butter and nsima and squatty potties... stories that only people who have experienced the same thing can appreciate. It has been wonderful!

I met with my advisor today, and I officially LIKE him... he's one of the professors in the School of Communication Arts here, and his specialty is video production, which is my emphasis. He's very sweet and was very helpful. It looks like I'll be able to get a second media class after all- up to now, I've had five Gen-Ed classes and one media class (Radio Production) but I'm hoping to drop a Gen-Ed class and add a Writing for the Media class that they are quickly creating for this semester.

So, my assessment after only two days? I love it here. It's far from home, and I'm SO tired, but once classes start I can get into a routine and hopefully things will get better. I am absolutely sure that this is where I'm supposed to be, though. It is a wonderful place. My half of the dorm room is full of pictures in frames and hanging on the walls, my radio is set to an oldies station, and Mr. Snuggles the Bear is happily perched against my pillow on the bed, so it is quickly becoming home-away-from-home.
Love all of you, and I'm hoping to do better about updating this thing now. =) stay tuned.

Hello, my name is Lacey, and I've been bad about blogging.

2009-08-02T14:22:00.005-05:00

It has been a LONG time since I blogged. I'm not sure why. I just can't seem to ever think of something to write about when I sit down. It is a combination of "not that much has been going on... what can I say?" and "SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED, it's hopeless to even TRY to catch up now!" (yes, both ARE possible, believe it or not.)
I move in 2 1/2 weeks... and I have very mixed feelings about it. I am SO EXCITED to start this new chapter in my life, and every time I go over the classes I need, I get that tingly feeling of excitement that makes me squirm. I can't wait to dive into classes and start learning new things. Unfortunately, for my first semester I will only have one class that is directly related to my major (and it's a class I'm quite sure I will struggle in), but I suppose I can't have EVERYTHING at once. =)
I taught in the Red Room for the last time today, and as the kids played with the train set, colored pictures, begged for more apple juice and fought over toys, I realized just how much I am really going to miss them... as I swept the floor, wiped down the table and closed the door of the classroom for the last time, I wasn't sure how to feel.
Another big piece of news is that there is a new face in my life... well, not a new face. It's an old face that has entered my life in a new way. We are having quite a lot of fun together, even as we get ready to enter the long-distance phase of our relationship. My family loves him, my friends love him, and I'm rather fond of him as well... so I suppose we're off to a grand start.
One of the highlights of my month? Turning in my two-weeks notice at work. I felt quite satisfied as I stuck that piece of paper to the bulletin board in the office, and now as I deal with angry customers and irritating co-workers, I need only to remind myself that it's almost over. A month ago, I didn't think this day would ever come. I will miss a few of the people there, and I've been feeling quite loved as several of them have been genuinely sad to tell me bye, but it's definitely time to move on from that part of my life!
Today is my parents' anniversary... 23 years! We did a photoshoot yesterday... one of the most fun shoots I've ever done, in fact. You can see a few of the pictures on my flickr, or there are quite a few on my facebook.
Anything else? I'm sure there is. However, it is Sunday afternoon. I went to bed late last night, woke up early this morning, and chased 2 year olds all morning...
it is nap time for Lacey.
I'll try to do better about updating this month. Try.

I guess you'll have to read about it later.

2009-06-23T15:08:00.003-05:00

Once again, I've reached a point where I have not blogged in a very long time. I've been getting notices from a friend on facebook, informing me that I'm "slacking," and every time I log onto my blog I stare at the same number of posts, pondering what on earth I could possibly write about in order to bump that number up by just ONE.
And yet, I come up with a blank. You would think there was SOMETHING in the world to write about. For instance, the other day when I had to climb OUT of the drive-through window in order to give a crazy old lady her food, because she parked so far away. That would make a good story to tell.
Or how my family picked, husked, silked, cut, bagged, and stored several bushels of corn the other day. My cousins got to help, and we did a lot of corn for them, too. The two-year-old told me, "oh, Wacey. I WUV makin' corns!" It was a fun day. Picking corn at 6 in the morning is something I've always dreamed of doing.
Or I could write about how my family recently got Directv (or something along those lines), and now Animal Planet won't go away. My two younger brothers have their butts planted in our two recliners, Moutain Dews and bags of popcorn in hand, eyes rivetted to the TV as they learn about how a roadrunner killed a rattlesnake, an octopus ate three teenagers, and a man lived with bears for 3 years.
Or maybe I could blog about my mother's sudden renewed interest in scrapbooking. She sits for hours at the table in her bedroom, poring over pictures, stickers, colored paper and glittery pens, searching for just the right layout to depict our camping trip in... what?... 1998? It will take her ages to catch up. I, personally, hate scrapbooking. In my mind, it is much more practical to simply store all the pictures on your computer, and maybe print a few out to put in frames.
OR I could talk about how one of my best friends left for a 2-month mission trip to Africa last week. I am extremely excited for her, because I went on the same trip three years ago and I know she will have a wonderful time, but I'm also feeling quite sorry for myself these days because nothing is quite as exciting without her around. My cell phone doesn't ring as much, no one else gets half of the jokes I make, and everything around here is just so QUIET... I can't wait until she gets back.
I could write about any of those things, but I just don't feel like it. So for now, I guess you don't get an update. Stinks for you.
Maybe next month.

an update, for those who care.

2009-06-07T22:51:00.002-05:00

Kitty is perfectly fine. She's up, meowing, and eating tuna like there's no tomorrow.
She also has been officially named Ocho (Oh no!)... "Ocho" because we figure after yesterday, she's definitely down to eight lives, and "Oh no!" just because I like to add that on the end.
I am a Beatles fan.

...your white cloths and your cat food will comfort me...

2009-06-06T12:21:00.004-05:00

Our house is like The Valley of Death for cats. We live on a busy road, there's a huge field with woods behind our house, and we have a rude, bully dog named Pete who thrives on beating up animals smaller than him. As a result, hardly any cats we've ever owned have lasted very long. I think the all-time record was Mittens, who actually survived for a few years.
However, my dad mentioned a couple weeks ago that mice were starting to pop up in our barn again, and maybe it was time to get another cat... "just to keep the mouse population down." And so, last night when my friend Tyler rescued a kitty from near our church and then text me asking if I wanted it, I relayed the message to my father and got his approval to adopt Kitty.
Kitty was brought to our house this morning around 10:00 am, given a bowl of water, and set free.
It was a normal Saturday morning. Caleb was mowing, Josh was weed-eating, Mom was baking bread, and Tyler and I were peeling zucchini (actually, the fact that Tyler was in the kitchen DID make it a bit abnormal). Suddenly, the peace of our Saturday morning was shattered when the door slammed open and Caleb came charging in with the intensity of an Indy 500 race. In one hand he held Kitty, who hung there looking dazed, her side plastered with...something. His other hand he held against Kitty, and I could definitely see tell-tale signs of blood on it. Obviously, this was not normal, so all zucchini and yeast was dropped in the rush to see what had happened. Caleb was on the verge of hyperventilating, but he managed to get out that "Pete... had... Kitty... in his MOUTH... tried to rescue... she bit me!!"
Josh was close behind him, yelling for me to get a pet-carrier to put Kitty in while we sorted this mess out, so I ran to our barn to find the cobweb coated pet-carrier, and took it back to the house. I put it on the patio, and opened the door to find Mom sitting with Caleb, cradling his finger (turns out the blood was NOT Kitty's... it was actually Caleb's.) She told me to take the carrier to the utility room, and so I did, and upon entering I saw one of the most mournful sights I've seen in a while. Josh had carefully spread out a nice, white towel on the floor and laid Kitty on it... rolled up another one and positioned it under her head... and nicely spread a third one out on top of Kitty, like a sweet little blanket. He was kneeling over Kitty, carefully "checking for broken ribs" and declaring that "if we had just put Kitty in a pet-carrier and NOT let her roam free right away, NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!"
Upon investigation, however, we could not find anything wrong with Kitty. The only blood involved was Caleb's. She had no lacerations or visible wounds. The stuff plastered on her side was Pete's slobber, and nothing more... but she seemed quite distraught, nonetheless.
"Distraught," however, was barely enough to cover Caleb's condition. I found him and Mom in the bathroom. He was still hysterical, and Mom was trying to clean out his bite and put a bandaid on it, but every time she approached him with the Hydrogen Peroxide, he would dive for the toilet and... well... it wasn't pretty.
Despite herself, Mom couldn't help but laugh at him, which didn't help put him in a good mood.
Ten minutes later found Caleb, pale as a ghost, sitting at the table drinking Sprite, Kitty still arranged in her makeshift hospital bed in the laundry room, and Pete laying on the porch, wondering why everyone was mad at him. Checkups have been performed on Kitty every 5 minutes or so, with reports on her breathing patterns being announced to everyone in the house. The only two times Josh checked on her, he pronounced her dead... but when a second "doctor" investigated it was found that she was actually very much alive, and so Dr. Joshua was banned from the infirmary.

As of now, Kitty is resting comfortably and we believe she will be okay. She even got to ride along on a trip to McDonald's for ice coffee.
Pete might not live to see tomorrow, though.

Yes, stalkerishness IS a word.

2009-06-04T00:43:00.003-05:00

Tonight, I had a friend who I haven't spoken to in years randomly ask me if I've ever taken photography classes. She told me that she "loves every single picture I've ever taken," and that she believes I have "tons of talent." I don't know if I really believe her, but it was extremely encouraging nonetheless.
She then proceeded to tell me that she regularly facebook-stalks me, which slightly creeped me out (I forget that people other than the ones I regularly contact might look at my profile sometimes), but also made me feel quite special.
I think we all have those people we blog-stalk- the facebook or myspace or twitter or blog or flickr that we read and explore and study and check for updates three times a day because we greatly admire the person and/or are curious about them.
I know I have several.
And I'm going to share some of them with you. But, I'm not going to confess to them that I stalk them... because that would take the stalkerishness out of it, and then I would just be that annoying person who reads but never comments... and everyone hates that person. ;-)

Disclaimer: if any of you actually stumble across this post, please keep in mind that I am not a creeper. My stalking is born simply out of a deep admiration for your work. I want to be like you when I grow up.

BLOGS I STALK (you'll probably notice a theme if you look through these):

---Mike, at What it All Looks Like... amazing pictures ... I love his perspective on things.
---the I Live Here: SF blog. It is fascinating... I love Tangobaby's way of capturing things in photos, and her writing style is...enchanting. At least, that's the only word I can come up with for it at this hour.
---Julian Smith. I don't know if it TRULY counts as stalking when it is someone who has thousands of people "stalking him," but I count it because I have only ever had one real interaction with him. (In case you were wondering, it was me asking him to marry him, and him merely saying "lol." Yes, I am serious.) His videos are hilarious, and there's a new one every week. Go there for a laugh on Fridays.
---Diana of Diana Bondurant Photography. She is a sister of a friend, and the only contact I've ever had with HER is a conversation over whether our brothers were dead in Mexico or not (they weren't. In case you were concerned). She's one of my most favorite photographers ever. Her blog is always interesting to read, but I also stalk her business's website, checking for new pictures, often. You should too.
---Eric Farewell of Blue Shoe Photography. Really, I stalk his Facebook, but that link isn't going to do you much good here, so here's his business website. I LOVE his style. Love love love it. I know his family, but have never met him. If I ever do, I'm going to contrive a way to steal some of his talent and implant it in me. He has plenty to spare.

Drive-Through Courtesy 101 (worth 4 credit hours)

2009-06-01T15:50:00.007-05:00

Monday is the one day of the week I always work. Sometimes I work Tuesdays, usually Wednesdays, and the rest of the week is very iffy... but I ALWAYS work Mondays.
And, almost every Monday afternoon, sometime between the hours of 1 and 3, you can find me driving home in my loud, dirty car (that I affectionately call The Klunker), drinking either a diet coke or chocolate milk, de-stressing and draining my irritation from the day. I particularly need to release frustration on the days that I worked the back drive through (which is basically every day). The aggravation mounts as each customer comes through, one by one, asking stupid questions or ordering things that don't exist.
The lady that asked for de-carbonated coffee... the man who wanted a chicken filet sandwich... or the lady today who ordered a grilled crispy chicken sandwich. (WHAT?!?!)
In the morning, the orders are cute ("awww... that little old woman just asked for a vanilla mocha latte cappuccino! She must not really know anything about coffee,"), but by about noon, they are just plain annoying ("...if you don't know what a cappuccino is, you don't need to be ordering coffee.").
Volume is another issue. Just because you can't see me, doesn't mean I can't hear you! I can hear you quite well, thank you... provided you talk louder than a faint whisper. There is no need to scream. Honestly, if you are talking at a loud volume and I ask you to repeat it, it is probably because you're yelling so loud it just sounds like fuzz in my ear.... "please repeat that" does NOT necessarily mean talk LOUDER!
And then there are the people who talk like they have a mouth full of marshmellows.
I'll never forget the day a man came through, and I had to ask him what he wanted over and over again.
First, I thought he ordered a Sprite.
Then, I thought he wanted fries.
Next, I figured it was apple pies...
turns out he wanted a number five!

Once I get through the issue of the person ordering, there is the taking of the money to deal with.
Some people seem to be in such a great hurry, they fling their money at me, dropping coins, and then get frustrated when they have to crawl out of the car and get it off the ground.
THEN there are the people who pay for their $6.98 order in change, and drive off before I can count it. Smooth move, folks.
Some people take about 4 minutes to count out the change for their order, and by the time they get it all sorted out, I have 6 orders taken and there are more cars lined up into the highway behind them.
Oh yeah... and then there are... The Talkers.
These are the friendly people.
I don't have a problem with friendly people... in fact, friendly people are nice! But, ladies and gentlemen, the fact is that if you come through a busy drivethrough, if you pull up to the window and start to tell me all about your busy day and how your husband wanted his burger fixed so strangely because he had a bet with his boss that he wouldn't eat it, I am not only trying to listen to you, but I'm also trying to hear the person screaming into my ear about how they want their husband's Big and Tasty fixed. I honestly can't hear a word you say. I just pretend to.
So, if you ever come through the McDonald's drive through in my town while I'm working, and you tell me that your mother died last night and you're picking up a burger for your distraught father and I just smile and nod... I apologize. It's not because I'm not sorry, and it's not because I don't care. It's because there's a person outside yelling that THEY WANT AN ICED TEA. (Or is that a Hi-C...?)

a shopping cart affair.

2009-05-30T22:13:00.002-05:00

Today, I went on a shopping trip.
I went with my brother and one of my best friends. It was the shopping experience of a lifetime.
Tyler, my brother, informed me and Kendra a couple months ago that "he has money and he needs clothes." My immediate response was, "good for you... go buy clothes!" On the other hand, Kendra's response was "YESS! SHOPPINGGG!"
My tendency when I wake up in the morning is to find my clean jeans and a t-shirt, put on the same pair of shoes I wore yesterday and the day before and the day before, and hit the road.
Kendra is the type who buys a different colored necklace for every outfit, changes purses so that they match the shirt she's wearing, and takes notes while watching What Not to Wear every day.
The opportunity to take Tyler (who is known for his torn shorts, stained t-shirts and camo hat) shopping and give him input on what HE shouldn't wear caused almost convulsive excitement for her.
And so, today was the day that she got to play Stacy-and-Clinton, a game that no one but her really knew the rules to.
We left the house at approximately 2 o'clock in the afternoon and set our sights for the nearest mall- an hour away. Yes, we live in a small town.
On the way, I slept while Kendra compiled in her mind a comprehensive list of all the stores we needed to hit and what to buy at each one. And so, as soon as we walked in the door, Tyler was dragged from Ross (where he stockpiled t-shirts like a t-shirt miser) to Old Navy (where he was coerced into buying a yellow t-shirt that he claims is "so loud it makes his ears hurt"), to American Eagle (where he begrudgingly announced "Oh no. Now you've got me hooked on a place where jeans actually FIT me, and I'll have to start actually PAYING for them!") to Foot Locker (where he picked out a bright yellow pair of running shoes and made sure the whole store knew how comfortable they were). In between, we managed Charlotte Russe (where he stood in a corner and looked awkward while we ravaged the clearance racks), FYE (the store people always have to pry me from... I could live there quite happily), Starbucks (to get my latte requirement fulfilled), Bath and Body Works (where Tyler spent time pondering the difference between the "Fresh" scents, the "Cuddly" scents, the "Sexy" scents, and...whatever other scents there are), Aeropostale (only Tyler's SECOND time there... EVER!), and the Chinese restaurant in the food court (which Tyler passed on for Chick-Fil-A due to the amount he had just spent on jeans). We started accumulating MANY shopping bags early on in the trip, and after a sly "consolidation" Kendra and I performed ("let's put this bag in this bag, and these bags in this bag, and all of them in this big bag...") while Tyler waited for his chicken sandwich, he found himself carrying almost everything... I carried the leftover Chinese food and my Coke and Kendra bravely carried her own bottle of Fanta around.
I later regretted this "consolidation," however, when I decided I needed lotion and I had to take the Bath and Body Works bag out of the Aeropostale bag out of the Charlotte Russe bag out of the Foot Locker bag out of the American Eagle bag.
Tyler declared himself now properly outfitted, and announced that all he has left to do is "accessorize" and get a girlfriend. He also made it known that he was tired, and that 5 hours was simply too long to shop, and that he was not going to survive a minute longer.
A trip to the movie theater (only to decide the movie was too long and we wouldn't get home in time if we watched it) and to Walmart later, we hit the road for home.

system overload!

2009-05-28T21:59:00.002-05:00

I used to have a Xanga. When I was about 13 or 14, I created a Xanga, and I filled it with many witty, amusing, and colorful thoughts and stories, posting every day... and sometimes 4 times a day. I remember always having SOMETHING to write about, whether it be the giant spider that attacked me at midnight one night (I still shudder to think of the incident), or my goldfish dying (which is a story that I'm STILL very proud of... perhaps some day I'll repost it here. It's most certainly one of my best accomplishments in life). However, the blog slowly started to die, as I began dual enrolling, getting more involved with my church, and I became busy with various other events. And so, not even remembering my Xanga username or password, I decided to re-create a blog and start to once again share my brilliant, enlightening, and revolutionary thoughts with the world.
And yet, I now have a hard time coming up with anything to write about. I'm not sure why I have such a permanent writer's block. It could be that I simply used up every drop of my creativity in my earlier blogging years, and now that the amount that God allotted me at birth has been used (and the container scraped and washed and dried and put away), I am destined to forever live an uncreative, boring, non-thought-prevoking life. Oh, the thought!
Or it could be that not nearly so many exciting things happen to me now. But I KNOW that's not true. The same strange things still happen. I still have nearly daily strange encounters with elderly people, I overflow the coffee pot at work on a bi-weekly basis, and I find various types of wildlife hanging out around my car or on our back porch. These are the same types of things I used to write about, and to me they are still highly entertaining, but I somehow have more difficulty putting them into words that others will find interesting as well. The stories don't just "flow from me like a water from a million gallon swimming pool that burst", as my little brother would so eloquently say.
Perhaps... and oh, even though I strongly suspect this is truly the reason, I hope and pray it isn't... I have simply been overtaken by the affliction that gets many people as they grow older. My mind might simply have been overtaken by the "more important" things in life. For the last year or so, I've found myself worrying about how small my paychecks are, where I'm going to college, what I'm going to major in, trying to find my place in the world, and taming my unruly hair. In all the busyness (business? busy-ness?) that has plagued me for the last year, I know my appreciation for the little things has not escaped, but my brain has possibly become too cluttered to be able to transform those small, hilarious things that happen to me into the amusing stories that I used to be able to create at the drop of a hat.
There is only one thing to do. I must retreat, escape all civilization and humanity, and spend a couple of years tucked away into a small log cabin, gathering roots and berries for nourishment, draining my brain of all important and non-interesting ideas, until I can regain my creative abilities.
Or, I must install more brain RAM. Do they make that?

New is not always better.

2009-05-27T23:34:00.002-05:00

New layout.
I think I hate the colors.
But I don't feel like fixing them right now.
Deal with it.

siete!

2009-05-24T21:09:00.004-05:00

I hate those games where you are supposed to "answer these 21 random questions about yourself, then tag 21 friends or else a rabid dog is going to poop on your bed at midnight tonight!"

However, my dear cousin "tagged" me in a slightly-less-harmless version of such a game, so I suppose, because I love her and miss her and can't wait to spoil the child she is going to have in a few months, I'll play along.

The rules: write 7 things you like and tag 7 people to do the same!
However, I'm changing the word "like" to the word "love"... it has more of a punch to it, I think. =)

So here we go.

1. I love brand new, never-been-read books that are the kind you start reading and can't put down. The kind that you read while you blow-dry your hair, brush your teeth, or unload the dishwasher (when I first discovered Ted Dekker, I became VERY good at doing things one-handed!).

2. I love the feel of a camera with a full battery and empty memory card in my hand... oh, the possibilities that indicates!

3. I love being in the red sunday school room at church on Sunday mornings. I love playing play-dough, driving "tucks," and putting together puzzles with the kids... I love answering their bizarre questions and high-fiving them when they color their picture "dood."

4. I love late night talks with good friends. I love the kind of talks that happen after midnight, when everyone wears their hearts on their sleeves and things get discussed that can't possibly be talked about during the afternoon when the rest of the world is awake.

5. I love a brand new, big bag of Skittles, and the feeling of accomplishment one gets when one sorts all of the colors into their own piles.

6. I love the mornings when the air is cool and the wind is blowing, and I can close my eyes and suddenly smell goats and chickens, hear kids laughing, and taste hot tea, and it's just like I'm in Africa again.

7. I love discovering a new song, whether by hearing it on the radio or discovering it on a friend's iPod... especially when it's the kind of song that you can't help but sing or dance to, and it gets stuck in your head for days at a time.

Now.
I tag the following people, some of who I know personally, and some I don't.

Jamie, because she is one of the cutest, funniest people I know.
Alisha, because she's one of those old friends I'm terrible at keeping in touch with, but she's still one of my most favorite people in the world.
Char, because her blog and pictures always make me smile, and I know she'll have seven gooood things.
Shandi, because she's amazing. period.
Shelly, because I love her to deathhhh.
Anna, because her blog cracks me up.
And YOU, because I KNOW I have cousins and aunts and uncles that read this that I don't know about, and it freaks me out. So comment and make yourself known. Or else. (mean face...)

wif cheese!

2009-05-22T20:52:00.002-05:00

Brent and Jan and the kiddos came over for supper tonight... according to Brian, we ate "hoddods, ackeromi, fucumber alsad, and ice-ceam!" (see if you can decode THAT menu!)
I always have fun playing blocks and frisbee with Brian, discussing Wilbur, Bob, and Larry (the pig and roosters that live at his house) with Blake, and kissing on Allison's chubby cheeks. We played a short but sweet game of hide-and-seek, ate out of my jars of Skittles, and labored over a Brian-proof Duplo Tower (which turned out to be a TRUE work of art!)
But my favorite part was when I was sitting on the hearth by the fire place and Brian came up next to me, cleared a spot off, and plopped his little butt in the seat beside me, announcing, "I wanna sit wif you, Lashey!"

here we go!

2009-05-16T23:24:00.002-05:00

Tonight I sat down and began to go over all of my degree requirements for Asbury. I made a list of all the classes I was required to take, and began to read over some of the class descriptions... and I actually started to get really excited about moving there and digging in. For the last two years, I've been taking history classes, math classes, biology classes, economics classes... all classes that were merely busywork for me, where I learned information that I would never need to know past the final. It had no practical application to my life, and other than my computer class and possibly my spanish class, I will never need to know any of it again. The classes I get to take as Asbury (yes, I used the word get, not have to) all look to be "right down my alley," as my mother would say. Writing for Media, Media Ministries, Multi-Camera Television Production.... all my past experiences with picking out classes have resulted in feelings of dread and tiredness, but I honestly can not wait to dig in and start this new experience... let the good times roll!

...and a bag of Coca-Cola gummy worms.

2009-05-15T10:36:00.003-05:00

In the spirit of "spring cleaning," I have continued my rampage into the deep, dark corners of my room. I've dusted and swept, cleaning off bookshelves and sorting out drawers.... and this morning, I am tackling the most formidable task of cleaning out The Backpack.
The Backpack has been carried around on my back for 5 semesters now. It has survived much, including hot, sunny days that threatened to melt the plastic pieces on the handle, terrible thunder storms, close calls in a vehicle, and wipe outs in the parking lot. It has carried many, many books, and is generally the place where the boys I hang out with come when they need gum, fruit roll-ups, a pencil, white-out, a granola bar, or a random piece of paper to write on. It is, however, also the place where the gum wrapper, the granola bar paper, and the pencil stub get returned to. The fact that I've been taking too many classes the last several semesters accounts for the size of it when it is full, and I've been told that I look like a turtle when I walk across campus with it on my back.
However, now, all of the textbooks and notebooks have been removed, and I'm left to clean out the random bits and pieces that are still floating around in the numerous pockets.
I know you are dying to share in this adventure with me, so here we go...

In the big pocket:
-a plastic bag containing a stack of blank index cards and an ink pen
-a plastic bag containing three scantrons that are folded like accordians
-a plastic bag containing headphones with a microphone, a bottle of ibuprofen, 2 ink pens, a purple highlighter, a half empty box of Dentyne gum, three Crystal Light packets, a bottle of Wite-Out, cough drops, a Chocolate Mocha Caribou Coffee bar, a beaded lizard, some receipts, and a golfball painted to look like Sponge Bob
-a small wallet with the peace sign on it, half filled with loose change
-a wadded up ball of spanish notes
-a wadded up ball of plastic
-two Nature Valley granola bars
-three packages of Fruit Snacks
-three packages of Stride gum
-another Crystal Light packet
-numerous gum wrappers

In the little pocket:
-two more packs of Stride gum
-two more Crystal Light packets
-lip gloss
-mascara
-two receipts
-more gum wrappers
-a pink highlighter with a blue lid
-two mechanical pencils
-a regular pencil
-seven Uni-ball ink pens
-a small bag of safety pins

In the side pocket:
-another Crystal-Light packet
-$20.00 (HOLY COW!)

Flopsy and Mopsy have been relocated.

2009-05-14T21:56:00.005-05:00

I woke up Tuesday morning and went to sit at my desk, only to find a blue graduation gown wadded up on my chair, with the matching cap jauntily perched on top of my printer. "This stuff is totally in my way, but I suppose one day... when I'm 40... I'll want to dig it out and think back on this time in my life." Upon that thought, I began pondering where I could possibly store it. The obvious answer was to store it with the cap and gown from my high school graduation... which I vaguely remembered folding up and putting in a cardboard box.... but where was the box? I usually store stuff like that on the top shelf of my closet, or under my bed, so after a thorough investigation of the upper levels of my closet, I hit my knees to dig under my bed, and found a plethora of items that I have not seen in ages. A guitar case, two duffel bags, a large picture frame, a bamboo mat and washboard from China, several cardboard boxes, and enough dust bunnies to represent an entire Cottontail family reunion.
Fortunately, one of those cardboard boxes held my high school graduation cap and gown, and I carefully folded their junior college counter-parts and put them in the box together.

Tonight I'm home with nothing to do, which is a feeling I don't remember having in a long time. I tackled the formidable task of cleaning out underneath my bed. I found pictures colored by kids I used to babysit, photographs of me and my friends when we were 12, a duffel bag I've been looking for for a year, earrings, a blue and red stuffed mouse that I have never seen before in my life, and what I believe is a piece of a coat hanger, but I can't be sure.
I swept out from under the bed, put only a few things back neatly, and piled the rest in the trash can.
Too bad no one but more dust bunnies will see ever see it, because it is beautiful down there now.

naturally.

2009-05-13T22:54:00.003-05:00

In response to Jan's comment on my last post...

... of course. =)

dun, dundundun dunnn, dun...

2009-05-12T11:20:00.005-05:00

Last night I lined up with many of my friends and marched into an auditorium to the strains of "Pomp and Circumstance." About 30 minutes later, Dr. Willis called my name and I walked across the stage to receive my empty diploma case ("the diploma will arrive in the mail in a few weeks," Mrs. Sessions tells us).
After many more diplomas were given and the benediction was said, we had an awkward moment where everyone debated whether we should turn our tassels or not, and then we quickly made our way back out of the auditorium and out of the building. And then, suddenly everything turned into mayhem. I was attacked by Dr. Gill telling me that I should have worn more appropriate shoes, by my grandpa telling me he was proud of me, and by my mother wanting to take a picture of me with every single person I knew on campus. Once we got everything sorted out, 16 of my dearest friends and I retreated to the local Mexican-food joint, a dingy restaurant perfect for large groups. It is the first time in a LONG time that that many people from the group my life used to revolve around was together, including ones that had left for college or had been quite unsociable lately because of school (yes, that category includes me).
It was the most fun I've had in a loooong time.

a new era.

2009-05-07T12:27:00.005-05:00

I am an overly nostlagic person. It's a fact. I hate it when things change, but when they do, I love to go back over the past in my mind. I relive my favorite memories, sort through pictures, re-tell old jokes to myself... it's pathetic, really.
With graduation approaching, I'm finding myself doing a lot of that. I have always felt a strange sense of sadness at the end of every semester. But, I always knew a new semester was coming, and with every new semester came a new group of friends, a new hangout spot, a new facebook app that EVERYONE was using...
This time, though, there isn't going to be a new semester. It's over for me. And while I am slightly glad to be done with this place, and I'm excited to move on and start a new chapter of my life, I know I'm going to miss this place. I'm going to miss dragging my backpack (quite literally) down the hallway, I'm going to miss piling into Mr. Faust's office with almost my whole spanish class. I'm going to miss hearing Mrs. Lancaster's high heels go "click click click" on the floor, I'm going to miss playing Bubble Spinner in the Learning Center instead of studying, and I'm going to miss the drives from home to school and back, discussing the important things in life with my friends. I'm going to miss eating and studying at The Table, sleeping on the red couch in the library, dashing to McDonald's for coffee between classes, and chasing (and being chased by) the ducks by the stupid little pond.
I don't want to leave all that behind, but I am grateful that I get to leave with a lot of good memories, a few pictures, and the staple-puller that I stole from the library.

(yup, I forgot to return that.)

a good man that did something.

2009-04-25T19:20:00.003-05:00

One week ago today, a very great man went to be with the Lord.
Martin Weber was one of the most influential people I know- and the truth is, I don't know even half of it. I've heard numerous stories about him coming from a life in Pennsylvania to found a prison ministry called We Care in Alabama. I've heard stories of the people he's reached, how he is the reason so many families are here (including mine), and what a visionary he was. I don't know half of the stories, and I can't imagine what a difference he's made in the world.
His funeral was Tuesday, April 21st. The funeral home was more than full, and our church (across the driveway) had quite a few people in IT to watch the live stream of the funeral, since there was no room for them to actually be there. Rumors say that 161 people logged on to watch the stream over the internet, and many more have been on since then to watch the archived video.
The funeral procession was LONG... and just as family and out-of-town guests were arriving back at the church for a meal, the beautiful, sunny sky turned gray, the wind started howling, and the rain just POURED down... it lasted for only a few minutes, and then it cleared up. The rain stopped, the wind stopped, and the sun popped back out... it was almost like the sky had to get in one good cry before it could let the day end.

good times.

2009-04-24T10:53:00.005-05:00

I have the privilege of going to an Extraordinary Women's Conference this weekend... oh, it will be fun. I'm recovering from a 24-hour bout of sickness, but I'm hoping that getting out and doing something will help me get over it faster.

Off to the estrogen-fest!

Why you should buy a Mac.

2009-04-21T09:04:00.004-05:00

I'm in computer class, and I should be working on my PowerPoint presentation for my final.
And I was... really. I'm doing it on Macs vs. Windows. It's got an obvious conclusion, but alas, I have to take the time to gather facts and actually PROVE it to my class (rediculous, I KNOW!).
While doing all of my in-depth research, I stumbled upon this incredible list of reasons of why Macs are better.
I may just copy it onto a PowerPoint slide and show it.
The only problem is that my teacher does not have the best sense of humor.
Ready? Here we go.

--PC users usually smell like dirty sweat socks. Mac users always smell as fresh as a summer rose. If only because so many of us use Summer Rose Feminine Deodorant Spray.
--PC users iz stoopid. Mac users iz teh smart.
--While one often hears about how Macs are gay, simple statistics dictate that because there are more Windows users, there are more Windows users who are gay. Even if gay people are more inclined to use the Mac simply because they have a better sense of style, statistically, more gay people use Windows. So, who’s gay now? Why it is you, the Windows user who is gay. On the other hand, you do look good in those chaps. I couldn’t pull off that look, but you make it look good. Do you work out? Not that I’m hitting on you or anything. I’m not. I’m just saying if I were gay…
--It’s a well-known fact that Windows crashes all the time and that Macs never c
--[bong!]
--I heard that Bill Gates spent the summer of 1978 killing hookers in Albuquerque and, if you listen closely, you can still hear their screams every time Windows boots up. Well, that’s what I heard. But it’s also possible it’s just the screams of the people who have to use Windows. Most of whom are corporate hookers which kind of brings the whole argument full circle.
--For the last time, Mac users do not believe that Steve Jobs is god! Ha-ha-ha! Don’t be foolish! That would be absurd! Preposterous! We simply believe - and this should be fairly obviously true to everyone based on the evidence at hand! - that he is Der Ubermensch, a perfectly evolved individual whose indomitable will will bring about a utopian society where Mac users and iPod users alike will live in perfect harmony with nature and their fellow Mac and iPod users. And, yes, Windows users must be purged in the flames of perdition as the leeching vermin that they are. But believing he’s god? Ha-ha! That would be silly!
--Humorous names that Steve Ballmer has called Bill Gates include Nerdie McSweatervest, Slouchy McJuicebox, Frumpy McScrawny, Foureyes McFloodpants and Donnie Dorko. I don’t really have a point here, I just think it’s funny.

life in the Red Room.

2009-04-19T20:27:00.011-05:00

Chaos reins.
As playdough is distributed, kids are laying claim to the various colors. A heated debate is going on over who gets the "puhple," who gets the "bwue," and who gets "weyow." Brooklyn steals the plastic grapes from Adrianna, Kaden throws the toy microwave at Ayden, and Helen accidently trips over Brian's tower of blocks, sending her into tears and Brian into hysterics over his destroyed project.
In the meantime, Selena quietly looks at books, Eli tries to stuff his toy frog into the oven, and Braden turns down every activity I suggest.
"Braden, do you want to play with playdough?"
"No."
"Do you want to put together a puzzle?"
"No."
"Do you want to color?"
"No."
"Do you want to read a story?"
"No."
"Do you want a million dollars?"
"No."

Suddenly, it's story time, and as everyone gathers their story-mats (carpet squares that they are supposed to sit on while listening to the story), Eli steals Ayden's mat and Adrianna fusses because she HAS to have the pink one. Eli insists on laying under the table for story time, and Braden and Brian fuss over who gets to sit in "Miss Wacey's wap." Both boys ended up sitting on me, which make it difficult to breath, but at least they are happy.
Story time is interuppted when the "twain" goes by... the whisle alerts one observant little girl to it, and everyone has to make the pilgrimage to the window to watch it go by. The short ones have to take turns being "wifted up" so they can see out the window, and the less aggressive ones get trampled in the race to the window, but by the time the "twain" is gone, everyone has seen it.

And then snack time! Everyone munches on "doldfish cwackers" and picks out the colors they knew ("I found gween!" "Oh wook... here's a weyow one!"), making sure that Frog (who comes every single week with Eli) gets his share, too.

Suddenly, it's craft time! Everyone "coyers" their pictures... "I wanna make mine wike a wainbow!" and gets tape in places that tape shouldn't be. Eli loses Frog, Kaden steals Brian's cup, and Adrianna accidently colors Brooklyn's picture a little bit... and Braden still doesn't want to do anything.

As soon as we hear the sound of adults moving around outside, we prop the door open and the mad dash begins. Gathering bags, juice cups, crafts, handouts, and finding Frog, we manage to get all the kids out the door to the correct parents amid squeals of "MOMMY!" and "Wook what I made!"

The floor is covered in toys, the blocks are scattered everywhere, the plastic food is in the puzzle box and the puzzles are in the toy fridge, and my green teacher's shirt has crushed "doldfish," water spots, Braden's snot, and some pink playdough on it... but it won't take long to clean up, and my shirt is washable.

These are my favorite Sunday mornings.

issues.

2009-04-12T23:56:00.010-05:00

I have problems. Everyone has problems, but I have a lot of problems.

I hate artificial grape flavored stuff. Real grapes and grape juice are fine, but grape candy, soda, or cough syrup couldn't be more gross. I also hate blue raspberry, or ANYTHING cherry (real or fake). For this reason, I don't eat purple, blue, or red candy of any kind. I know that sometimes red candy is "fruit punch" flavored, but there is always a very real risk of it being cherry. And that risk is just too great to take.

I'm afraid of the dark. Not because I think there's an ax-murderer lurking in the shadows, but because I am afraid of all the things I could trip over that are laying around. There are always so many things in the dark that you can fall over and get hurt on... chairs, books, cracks in the sidewalk... and they can all have bad consequences.

I'm terrified of spiders. I would take a snake any day over a spider. I suppose it is because they have so many LEGS! I have to close my eyes during the part of Lord of the Rings when Frodo is attacked by the huge spider, and I left the room during Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets when Harry talks to Aragog in the woods. I had nightmares after my encounters with the spiders in Malawi. They are one of the major factors that would make me hesitate should I ever have the opportunity to move there.

I tend to make piles in my room. It drives my mother nuts. I don't know why I do it. I guess some things that you use a lot are just easier to get to if you leave it in a pile on your floor instead of putting it away. I usually have a Laundry Pile, a Schoolbooks Pile, a Books I Want to Read Pile, and a Pile of Stuff I Can't Find a Place For. The Curse of Clutter has been bestowed upon me, and I don't know how, because my mother hates clutter like most of America hates Bush. When I leave the house, I shut my door so she does not enter my bedroom... when she does, she tends to move my piles, then I can't find ANYTHING!

I have a tendency to freak out about things before I thoroughly investigate the situation. If I lose something, I find myself panicking about it before I really spend a decent amount of time looking for it. I will blame everyone in the room for it being gone and tear apart a small amount of space in the area that I think it should be in.... then 10 minutes later I'll find it... often, where it actually belongs.

I am bad about always having to have background noise. I can not deal with silence. This is another "I don't know why!" things. I need music, a movie, people talking, or the TV on in the background no matter where I am... particularly if I'm trying to concentrate on something. If I try to study in a totally silent room, it would be game over before it started. There's no way I could get anything done. It's kind of strange, actually.

I forget stuff. If you know me, you know that. "Forgetful" could be like The Word That Defines Lacey. I can't remember anything. If you need me to bring you something, tell me 10 days early. It will take me that long to remember it. I write things on my hands to remind myself, but I will either wash it off before I need to see it, or just not be looking at my hand at the critical moment. I lose stuff a lot because of this. I spend a lot of my life looking for things... schoolbooks, shoes, keys, my cell phone, and sometimes my car, if I'm in a large parking lot.

My purse is really just a big bag with a ton of stuff in it. I lose stuff in there, too. I tend to just put things in my purse when I don't know what else to do with it. It is full of gum wrappers, receipts, unsent letters, happy meal toys, boxes of safety pins, iPod cords, cell phone chargers, crunched up granola bars, and sometimes even a water bottle and a novel. It's hard to find stuff in there. My friends get embarrassed because when we leave a restaurant, I often have to dump the contents of my purse out onto the sidewalk and sift through it to find my keys.

I get the hiccups a lot. Nothing helps. I've tried it all... drinking water, eating sugar, having someone scare me, holding my breath, closing my eyes and thinking of ten bald men... none of it works. The only thing to do is wait for them to go away. Oh... and these aren't normal hiccups. They are serious, violent, almost-like-having-a-convulsion, results-in-sore-ribs hiccups. I get made fun of for those, too.

These are only a few of my problems. Surely they make pills for people like me. A Likes-Cherry-Candy-Not-Scared-Of-Spiders-Organized-Not-Forgetful-Never-Gets-Hiccups pill.

I'll take 73 bottles, please... I may lose 70 before I get home with them.

maybe the Easter Bunny actually flies, too. I mean, no one can hop THAT fast!

2009-04-12T21:05:00.012-05:00

I am almost 19 years old, and I got my very first

Easter basket ever this year.
Yes, I realize, it's shocking that I haven't had
serious issues because of this.
My parents have failed to produce Easter baskets for us until this point. However, I suppose they figured it was time they gave me one... you know, quickly sneak it in there before I moved!

I was presented with a bucket filled with that plastic green grass, two bottles of frappuccino, a chocolate cross, a box of robin eggs, and a Wallace and Gromit DVD (my dad has fantastic taste in movies!)
My parents have never promoted the Easter bunny, Santa Clause, or the tooth fairy. Well, we did have a tooth fairy, but we figured out pretty quickly that there was something fishy going on when the tooth fairy started forgetting to do ~~his~~ her job. When we woke up and there was still a tooth under the pillow and no money in sight, it was obvious that something was wrong.

But back to the Easter bunny...
I have honestly never put much thought into the Easter Bunny. In fact, for the most part, I have forgotten he "exists." I've never really considered the idea of a rabbit hopping around delivering colored eggs to children. At least, not like I have considered a fat man driving around a flying sled with reindeer delivering presents to kids....
Actually, come to think of it, the Easter Bunny might be slightly more realistic than Santa Clause. He certainly would be more impressive. I mean, he works alone... obviously he is fast enough to deliver all of those eggs on his own, on foot (or paw, whatever...), in one night. On the other hand, Santa Clause is dependent on 11 regular reindeer and one reindeer with a glowing nose, all of which can fly. (Okay, so maybe none of them are truly regular.)
Of course, that doesn't even take into account the fact that the Easter Bunny is a rabbit...

Tonight, while driving home, I almost hit a rabbit! The irony nearly killed me, and certainly sent Tyler (who was in the backseat) into a long lecture about how that could have been the Easter Bunny or Peter Rabbit....and what if I had killed him?!?! This suddenly made me realize that I have always considered those two to really be the same rabbit. Which is actually kind of weird.
I guess in my mind Peter turned white every Easter morning?
I'm not sure.
The good news is, I did not hit the rabbit, so either way, both the Easter Bunny (does he have a real name?!) and Peter are safe. As far as I'm concerned, anyway.

I mean.... it's not like I believe in them anyway.

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.
There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men.
The angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here, he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay."
...So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them. "Greetings," he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me."
Matthew 28:1-6, 8-10

el fin.

2009-04-11T12:34:00.004-05:00

The "roommate selector form" was sent off today.
Asbury, here I come!

...with a side of bacon.

2009-04-08T21:16:00.003-05:00

My mom has five sisters. Six sisters in one family should spell disaster in any normal case. With six sisters, you would expect cat fights, backstabbing, gossip, and thievery.

Don't take that statement to mean that these six sisters don't spell disaster; they DO... it's just disasters like bedrooms getting unwanted paint jobs (they all have a strange fetish for painting and cleaning), nieces and nephew being "set up" with unwanted spouses (oh, AND matchmaking...), and golf carts being destroyed (should you ever meet one of them, ask them about that. It's a good story. It involves train tracks).
When the six of them are together, it is not uncommon to walk into a room and find them in various positions around you (such as draped over chairs, leaning on walls, or sprawled on the floor) with tears squirting out of their eyes, speechless with laughter. Fortunately for the well-being of society, not all six of them live in the same town... they are scattered across the United States. Right now, though, one of the sisters from Indiana is living in the same town as the sister from Alabama... and the sister from Alabama is my mother. These two are having far too much fun. They have been cleaning, and playing card games, and cleaning, and talking, and cleaning, and giggling, and cleaning some more in their spare time.
Today they invented a new game, though!

It's called Go Through the Drive-Through While Lacey is Working and Order Strange Things.
The first time they went through wasn't too bad... they just ordered normal food. After excitedly greeting me over the speaker.
The second time, however, (yes, there was a second time), they excitedly ordered

"a slab of Hog, Dog, Frog and Buffalo and a piece of rhubarb pie."
Yes, they were laughing hysterically at their own cleverness as they pulled up to the window....
and so were my boss and the two managers in the store who were also wearing headphones.
When I told my mom and aunt that they all heard and were now trying to figure out what Hog, Dog, Frog and Buffalo was, they choked on their laughter.
ha.

fishing =)

2009-04-05T21:16:00.003-05:00

The worms are gross... but they're still fun to play with. =)

eesh.

2009-03-21T22:11:00.002-05:00

My brother and five other guys are on a mission trip to Mexico right now...
they crossed the border today. JUST found out that they made it safely.
As many of you know, Mexico is a little crazy right now, with the druglords and whatnot shooting everything up...
So, I'm officially asking you to pray for them for the next week while they are there.
Please and thank you.

"Here fellas, grab onto a Sugar-O! Save yourselves!"

2009-03-20T00:12:00.009-05:00

Two photo shoots in a week = more fun than a waterpark.
At least for me.

These are of the amazing Homeschooled Kids and Co. class of 2009, featuring my little brother and three of my best friends. Although all four were skeptical about the black shirts (and really, the idea of taking pictures in general), they were quite pleased with the results, as were their mothers (who are REALLY the ones that count!), and so was I.

This is the favorite, hands down.

Tyler

The other Tyler (this is the brother)

Trey

Justin

Today my mother babysat my cousin (who we fondly call Baby Allison), and when I got home from work, an impromptu photo shoot ensued. Out of 97, I was able to get about 5 without a "what the heck are you doing?!" look on her face. She's such a cutie.

chair? free chair?

2009-03-13T15:05:00.003-05:00

We went to Sam's Club yesterday for supplies for our vending machines. It takes a lot of time to load up 50 flats of drinks, 30 boxes of candy bars, and 8 boxes of chips. It takes almost just as much time to go through the checkout line and deal with the incredibly slow, OCD clerk.
Once we got done paying, Josh, Caleb and I went outside to load stuff up in the vehicle. We have a suburban. There is plenty of room to load so many supplies in... but only if the back is empty. After I pulled it around to the loading dock, we opened the back... and immediately, all three of us got a sinking feeling in our stomachs.
The back was NOT empty. Ohhh no.
Behind us was a flatbed cart piled HIGH with soft drinks, candy, and chips... and in the back of the vehicle, where we had to fit everything, was a chair.
a chair.
a pretty big, wooden, very inflexible captain's chair.
We did some sifting and rearranging, trying every creative place possible for the chair in order to make room for the supplies... but it wasn't going to happen. Nooo way.
We set it out on the sidewalk, and loaded the stuff up while debating what we were going to DO with the chair...
Upon exiting the store, Mom told us that she had put the chair there, INTENDING to drop it off at Goodwill... and forgot.
Caleb took it upon himself to stand beside the chair and call to every passing person that there was a free chair available to anyone that wanted it......
One lady came out of the store, looked at him, then said "No thanks. I have a chair like that at home I'm trying to get rid of."
After hearing the story, though, she told us that she does that kind of thing all the time.
Then she proceeded to load the chair up in HER truck to take it to Goodwill FOR us.
Thank God for nice people... and forgetful mothers, I suppose.

buy them a sandwich. do it. dooo it.

2009-03-11T14:45:00.005-05:00

Everyone has seen them.
You drive down the street in any slightly major city and they are on every other corner, with their signs.
"Hungry, trying to get home."
"Will work for food."
"Anything is appreciated. God Bless."

Some people ignore them, some people run down the street and buy them a sandwich, and some people launch odd advertising campaigns that may or may not take advantage of them.

I had the chance to go to New York City to visit a friend last year, and while getting lost in the city (I mean that quite literally), I can not even count how many homeless people I saw.

And while I did find out later that some of them were fake, (I still count that as one of the most hilarious events of my life, though), it really broke my heart to see all the people out there with nowhere to go.
Yesterday on the radio, though, the morning guys (whom I love) were talking about EDAR (Everyone Deserves a Roof), a project run by a group of college students who designed a shopping-cart-that-turns-into-a-tent. I think this is FANTASTIC. By day, its something that can store all of your valuables (you can even lock them up so no other desperate homeless person can steal what little stuff you have), and at night it's a water proof (in case of rain), wind proof (in case of hurricanes, I suppose), and flame-retardant (in case of any crazy arsonists who are wandering around at night).
It's a pretty cool project... I'm kind of upset that I didn't think of it first.

she died at the hands of a quack.

2009-03-10T00:09:00.001-05:00

About a week ago, I was sitting at a picnic table beside the pond at school. It was 8:30 in the morning… everyone else on campus was either trapped in a stuffy classroom listening to a lecture, or holed up in a computer lab staring at a screen. The sky was blue, the wind was blowing, the air was cool…. It was perfect. I was drinking my amazingly delicious coffee and reading my amazingly boring World Lit assignment, when I just happened to glance up… and found myself in a very odd situation.
A duck was charging at me!
[At this point I would like to interject that yes, occasionally I do tend to exaggerate a bit, but never too much…. just enough to make for a good story.
But, in this situation, I would like to make it clear that I am not stretching anything.
There was a duck, and he was charging at me.]
Head down, wings back, he was waddling at me just as fast as a duck can possibly waddle.
At this point, millions of questions raced through my mind, such as “what did I do to provoke this?”
The question that was foremost in my consciousness, however, was “what do I DO?!”
“Do I just watch it crash into my leg?”
“Do I try to defend myself?”
“Exactly what does a duck DO to you? Peck you? Bite you? Flap its wings at you viciously?”
“Should I look it in the eyes?”
“Should I offer it coffee? Ask for its insight on Gilgamesh? See if it wants to do my research paper for me?”
Of course, all of this had to race through my mind extremely quickly, since the duck was advancing fast…
Within the 45 seconds that it took the duck to make it from the pond to my table, I had decided on a course of action.
Plan A was to throw my cup of coffee at it. It was a good size for throwing, it was still pretty full, and therefore heavy, and should it bust, it was full of a hot, scalding liquid that would definitely freak an angry duck out.
Plan B was to throw my LIT book at it. While I was less eager to part with that than the coffee [since it cost about $100 more], it was definitely heavier, would fly even better, and would positively give a duck a concussion.
Plan C was to sacrifice my entire backpack in order to save myself. Since it contained 5 classes worth of books, I was not sure I would be able to heave it a very good distance, so I would have to wait until the bird was close enough to simply drop it on its head. I DID know, however, that the weight would certainly be enough to not only kill, but also probably smash the duck into an unrecognizable form. I didn’t want to have to resort to this, but if both the coffee and Lit book failed…. What recourse did I have?!
Suddenly, the duck was THERE. RIGHT THERE. In all of its flapping, feathery glory… it was there. Right in my face.
Just as I curled my fingers around my precious cup of coffee, the duck froze in its steps…. turned… and ran in the other direction, as fast as its short little feathery legs could take it.
My relief was indescribable.
I suppose the coffee was simply too much for it.
Imagine the publicity if the duck had actually attacked me. Aflac would surely have problems from now on. I would hate for that to happen.

There was a point to this story, I’m sure. I’ve just forgotten it.

ℓive ℓove.

2009-03-09T22:26:00.006-05:00

The Student Life conference was in Pensacola this weekend. We go every year. I love these conferences; it's always a great time of input and worship, two things that I've felt very deprived of lately.

We were gone approximately 24 hours, and 402 pictures were taken on my camera; they were a collaboration of efforts between myself and my fantastic friend Tyler [who I wish would get his own camera... ;-) ]. These are a few of my favorites.

Along with the amazing teaching and worship time, we enjoyed bonding time over tacos, onion rings, and of course... time on the playground. =)

[this one was taken by Tyler... it cracks me up. I actually look terrified.]

It was so much fun to spend time with the group just hanging out at the hotel early in the morning over cups of coffee and stale cinnamon buns. There is something about the early morning hours that just seems to bring people together
[once they are all awake and have had coffee].

Of course, picking flowers [okay, pretty weeds!] and sticking them in each other's hair was pretty enjoyable, too. =)

pictures of Egypt.

2009-02-26T20:15:00.002-06:00

A couple weeks ago I mentioned going to a college for a scholarship competition.

I won.
Sorta.

Out of the 90+ students that went, they gave out 2 full rides and 16 "half rides," and I got a "half ride."

Yes, it is a big accomplishment, and I'm incredibly proud of myself... I was told that my interview was "flawless," and the girl who called said she had never been in on an interview that went so well.

But now I have to decide between staying at home, with the people I love, and going to a university near here, or moving 9 hours away to live in a dorm with strangers and starting a whole new adventure.

I've been weighing both options in my mind, and both options have been weighing heavily right back.
I'm not sure that sentence made sense, but hopefully you know what I mean.

My mother has told me that she's seen more and more in me a need for me to stay here and stay so involved in our church and work with the people here. She believes deep down that I will stay.
My dad has told me that he sees a need for me to strike out on my own, have a new adventure, and see what I can do with my life. He believes deep down I will leave.
I've had a few close friends of mine that know me VERY well make comments about me leaving... when I correct them with, "no, I don't KNOW if I'm going!" they've said, "oh.. but you are."
One of them, who I value as one of the most insightful people in my life, told me that she believes that deep down I know I'm going to go... I'm just having a hard time dealing with it.

And it's true that I AM having a hard time dealing with whatever-this-is... some days I just think about the future and without even realizing it I see myself on this college campus, behind a video camera. Then I'll spend some time with people from my church, and suddenly just the THOUGHT of leaving my church kills me. KILLS ME.

There have been comments made, though, that our church's media program should expand some day, and should I leave, get my media-comm degree and come back in 2 years, they should be financially ready to do that... and I could head it up. =)
Someone made a comment last night to me that they would love to see someone in our youth group leave for school, get some training, then come back and minister... which is something that has actually been weighing on my heart for some time.

All of that sounds fantastic... but there ARE the 2 years in the meantime to deal with, plus... what if something happens and I DON'T come back? I'm sure, at the time, I'd be fine with it.... but right now I hate the idea.

I realized last night that I have been thinking in almost everything in terms of "I'd miss that..." though. I have a heightened awareness of everything I love. Thoughts have been running through my head like,
"I would SO miss sitting in the sound booth at church and watching everybody come in."
"I would REALLY miss sitting at MY TABLE at school and watching people."
"I would miss teaching the fantastic "little people" Sunday School."
"I would miss hanging out in the parking lot with the youth group, putting off homework."
"I would miss playing Spit with Josh & Caleb."
"I would miss seeing Kaden grow up!"
And on and on and on and on...

and yes, I know that things are GOING to change. I can't stop it, no-how, no-way. ONE of the four of us that graduated together has moved for college so far, and he even comes home pretty often because he's only a couple hours away. Because of that, I feel like I am kind of alone in this situation. But they ARE going to do things like expand their businesses, become firemen, get married, move out of their parents houses, etc. And I would hate not being here to see it all, and maybe experience it with them...

And what about the younger girls I hang out with? I'd miss out on their senior year of high school, maybe their first boyfriends, their fights with their parents, their highs and their lows that I love being a part of... and I'm the only older girl in our youth group. There's no one to fill my spot, no matter how small it is... who's going to make sure they don't give their phone numbers out to random mall guys, or monitor their caffeine intake at sleepovers???

I'm afraid that deep down, I DO know what I'm going to do. Maybe something strange will happen suddenly, and I'll realize that I'm going to do the opposite of what I've been thinking for a couple of days now... but probably not. So in the meantime, I'm spending hours on my knees, and I'm doing a lot of thinking. AND a lot of appreciating... just in case. I don't want to miss ANYTHING, just in case I never experience it again.

highlights of my weekend.

2009-02-23T21:57:00.004-06:00

.watching "The Prestige" with my brothers. Incredible movie... if you haven't seen it, watch it. I love the kinds of movies that leave you staring at the screen shaking your head while the credits roll. This is that kind of movie. It's been out for 3 years, and I don't know how I've been missing it all this time! I always manage stuff like that.

.eating tacos with Kaden. It took him a while to get the hang of it, but he finally did... once he figured out it wasn't a "pie."

I realized yesterday that I have a test tomorrow night.
I've been hitting the books during my break at work today and this afternoon after taking a nap, but I still have a ways to go. It feels like everything this semester takes more work than it should... which is quite frustrating.

chimp squared.

2009-02-19T17:03:00.002-06:00

I think it's a sign that you are far too immersed in school when you are driving down the road, see a "no U-turn" sign, and think "PARABOLA!"
I did that last night. I have also started to think in Spanglish, pay attention to reports about the stock market, and watch Oprah so I can know what my sociology teacher is talking about.

I am incredibly grateful for my old Spanish teacher these days... Spanish class this semester has been a great challenge to all 7 of us that are in it. Of the 7, six of us were in 101 together last year, and all of us have been making numerous trips to our old teacher's office for help.
The new teacher is nice, but quite frankly, she's difficult to understand. We had a test today, and he had told a group of us on Tuesday that we should feel free to stop by his office before the test if we needed help. This morning when I had some free time [which is RARE!] I walked into his office, set my backpack down, and he just cleared away a spot on his desk without saying anything. About 45 minutes later, I walked out of there slightly less confused.
A couple hours later I was walking back to the school from the McDonald's right down the road, when a car suddenly slowed, the window rolled down, and Sr. Faust yelled "LACEY! I forgot to tell you... you use "tan" for adverbs and adjectives and "tanto" for nouns!" Then he just kept on driving.
A couple MORE hours later, about 20 minutes before the test, I wandered into the library to kill time when I heard a lot of voices coming from the vicinity of his office. I headed that way to see what was up, and found 4 of the 7 people in my class crowded in there, with books and papers spread every which way. It's really nice to have a class that is willing to help each other out.

I killed some time in class today by browsing Yahoo! News... and found some really strange things. It's amazing how more informed in the world you become when you pay attention. I should start doing that more.

I've been fascinated by the chimpanzee that went nuts this week. I did a little bit of research and was amazed at how strong those chimps can be... if you click on the link and watch the video, it talks about how it's in this chimp's NATURE to be aggressive like this; in a regular "chimpanzee society" in Africa they use aggression to solve everything... apparently you can't "nurture it out of an animal."
Guess I'll just stick with the hedgehog I've always wanted. As far as I know, they can't pull your face off.

<3

2009-02-14T12:57:00.004-06:00

I got home at three o'clock this morning and found these on my window sill, from my 11-year old brother.

The cutest part was the note, though.

Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!

one shot, one opportunity [yo!]

2009-02-10T22:45:00.002-06:00

This is one of the most important "men" in my life.
Every Sunday me and this little man go out and play on the playground. We only miss this playdate on Sundays that it is exceptionally cold, raining, or the one Sunday that I had been ordered by my mother to "dress like a lady" and wear a skirt, and we dealt with insane amounts of wind.
We have a routine; we always race out there. He runs as if his life depends on it, his tiny little legs pumping up and down as fast as they possibly can, dodging bumps in the ground. He often takes a few tumbles, and we have to stop, regroup, and wipe the dirt off his face before we can keep running.
When we finally reach our destination, we climb up the little metal steps, jump off the little metal platform, then slide down the little plastic slide.... and then we do it again. And again. And again. And again. After about the fourth time I'm usually bored and ready to move on, but he'll keep making the circle over and over and over and over again, his face split into a HUGE grin with delight just oozing out of every pore in his tiny little body.
It is so much fun! We make that circle about 25 times every Sunday, until either his parents leave, I'm called to some duty inside the church, or I just get tired enough that I declare us finished.
Then we race inside again!

On Sunday I thought I would take the time to tell my little man how much I appreciated our time spent together. I took his hands in mine, looked him right in the eye, and said,
"Buddy, you are pretty much my favorite person in the world right now. I love playing with you because you never ask me questions, you don't tell me I'm doing something wrong or doing something right... you don't try to give me advice or share your wisdom with me. You're content to just run in circles and laugh with me, and I love you for that."
He shrugged his shoulders, looked me back in the eye, pulled his hands away, and said "SLIIIDE?!"

On Friday I am facing a very intimidating, frightening interview [at least for me] that may help determine the course I take for the rest of my life. Honestly, it didn't seem that big until just a few moments ago when I started to really, really think about it. It hit me that this really IS going to affect the rest of my life.
I was nervous before. I don't even know a word to express how I feel NOW.
The thing is, I'm almost hoping the interview won't go well. I don't plan on sabotaging myself or anything, but if it DOES go badly, then a choice I have to make is crystal clear... if, on the other hand, it goes well, I may face a decision I've been dreading with every fiber of my being. I know that sounds dramatic, but I'm a terrible decision maker to begin with. When something is as big as this, it just freaks me out like no other.

All this to say, pray for me.

chiropractor needed...

2009-02-04T15:47:00.001-06:00

um, why?

pizza & a movie.

2009-02-01T11:46:00.006-06:00

I think I'm learning to appreciate the finer things in life. I've always been able to appreciate the small things... things like blowing bubbles, heart-shaped scratches in furniture, and a brand new box of crayons. In the last few months, though, I have found myself smiling at the stuff that I used to just ignore or be irritated by, and realizing that I really do love it.

It's things like this.
..My Grandpa when Grandma was gone for a couple of days last week. He was on his own, and I think he really enjoyed it. He actually giggled a lot... yes, my Grandpa GIGGLED! One day, Caleb went over to the "cottage" where they live and found Grandpa gluing a pair of pants up that needed hemming... he said he was going to prove that he COULD live without Grandma!

..My nosy mother. Yes, it still irritates me at times. And yes, I still get aggravated a LOT. But I've managed to find the humor in the way she looks every time she senses a secret in the air... her eyebrows pop up, her eyes get bigger, her mouth turns up at the corners in a sinister I-am-GOING-to-find-out-what's-going-on way, and she takes on the air of a lion stalking a gazelle. What's even funnier is the way it all intensifies the longer you string her along.
[as I'm typing this, she's trying to read over my shoulder, and she's complaining that I won't let her read it. Oh, mom.]

..My dad's lame jokes. Yes, I've always appreciated these, but I realize just HOW MUCH the closer I get to moving away. I think he'll miss me being the only one around that appreciates them, too. My mom and brothers just roll their eyes. I always either laugh or have a great comeback. =)

..My brother's giggle. Josh. Josh is one of the coolest kids I know. When he laughs, he laughs... but when he gets the giggles, which is only when something just is REALLY funny to him, he can't stop... for a loooong time. It's like a rib-shaking giggle that starts down in his feet and works it's way up to his mouth. His face turns red, his arms go limp, and he just starts vibrating all over and it spills out of his mouth like water out of a bottle. It's contagious, too... SOOO contagious. You can NOT be in the same room as Josh when he has the giggles, and not laugh a little bit, too.

..Pessimistic people. I don't know how so many people can find such bad stuff to talk about all the time. It actually gets downright humorous when you think about it. I mean, WHO can find something bad about a cup of hot chocolate? It's too strong, it's too weak, it's too hot.... um, how can HOT chocolate be too hot? It's a mystery to me. The brainpower it must take to find SO much stuff to complain about must be phenomonal. They should probably give awards to these people, because I can't imagine how many brain cells it must burn to come up with something bad about stuff like playdough and lemonade.

That's all.

Power, Peace, Promises.

2009-01-22T22:56:00.003-06:00

"For great is your love, higher than the heavens;
your faithfulness reaches to the skies.
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens,
and let your glory be over all the earth."
Psalm 108:4-5

just one second.

2009-01-18T22:32:00.004-06:00

This is what is wrong with the world today.

DECLARED AN EMERGENCY.

There isn't a lot that makes my blood boil more than something like that. I've been working on raising money for an AIDS Orphan Rescue Unit for two years now, and according to my math, 50 MILLION children could be saved from dying of Malaria in Africa with the money they're spending on an inauguration. Necessary? No.
I'm aware that it is a HUGE privilege to live in the United States of America. But all the freedoms, wealth, and power that we have really look stupid when you see how selfish we all are. I can understand why other parts of the world don't like us! With all the power we have, we could really make a difference if we deigned to spend our money on something more important than a Cadillac for our president to ride around in. Yes, I understand it's bullet-proof and missile-proof and sneeze-proof to prevent Obama from catching a cold [we wouldn't want another William Henry Harrison...], but you'd think they could spare things like LED lights to illuminate the flags on it?!
Yes, it pisses me off. Sure, security is necessary. But surely we can cut back on some other not-so-necessary things to make up for it? Especially the way our economy is today!
Grrrrr.

dum dumdumdum dum, dumdumdum dum dum, DUMDUMDUM DUM!

2009-01-13T16:49:00.005-06:00

The other day I got a phone call from my brother while I was at work, asking if I wanted to find another girl and go do something...
apparently he's tired of hanging out with guys. Weird.
His search for another girl, however, turned up no one but Trey... who isn't a girl, but can fill in when needed.
The plan was to go eat and watch a movie. It took 30 minutes of serious talking to convince them that we should eat at Buffalo Wild Wings, a restaurant I ate at with the girls last weekend.
They gave in VERY reluctantly... but upon entering the building, they stood and turned in circles in a Pollyanna-ish way, saying "whoaaa...."
In the end [after ordering FIFTY WINGS], they declared it a great restaurant and a good date spot [which I completely disagree with due to the degree of messiness involved in eating wings.]
Afterwards, we went to watch Valkyrie.... which was a FANTASTIC movie that I HIGHLY recommend! GO SEE IT.
Warning: it's intense.

slots!

2009-01-09T15:19:00.003-06:00

Wearing the hardhat I wore on my mission trip... I'm teaching him right. =)

A top can be such a complicated toy for a 1-year-old.

"Help, Lay! Help..."

Finally got it going. =)

I got to play with Kaden for a couple hours today while his mom was in a meeting. It was so much fun... We colored, and played with the tops I got in Peru. Sadly, he dropped one, and it "boke"... you'd think his little heart "boke" at the same time! He cried when we had to glue it back together, then when we put it on a shelf to dry, he sat and stared at it, asking me "pixed? pixed?"
His mommy forgot to pack Blankie, so he had a very, very difficult time settling down for a nap. He crawled out of his bed over and over again, and cried until I thought he'd get sick... finally, I just settled him on the couch with me, and he fell asleep there. So sweet!

Last night Kendra & I babysat for some children at a local church. They are having special meetings and the girls that usually take care of the kids couldn't be there. We had 6 kids ages 2-4, and they were so much fun! Tonight we go back to do it again... they told us they may be meeting for a few weeks, and asked us if we'd be available. DEFINITELY! I'm in love with these kids...

The new casino opened up a few days ago... my dad and I have worked in the hotel a couple days this week, touching up paint on the doors. We were there the day it opened, and the place was INSANE. The parking lot was overflowing... when Dad & I left for lunch, we could hardly find a place to park when we got back because they turned the construction workers' spots into valet parking.
The church we babysat at last night is really close to the casino, and Kendra hadn't seen it yet, so we decided to slip in and look around... I knew we were only allowed to gamble if we were 21, but anyone could go to the restaurants inside. I left my ID in the car- Kendra had hers, but she's only 15... Definitely didn't know that you had to be with a parent if you were under 18. I told the guy I was 18, and -miracle of miracles, since I LOOK 12- he didn't ask me for ID, and thanks to some quick thinking and talking, and a cute smile on Kendra's part, we got in.

later!

2009-01-08T22:07:00.003-06:00

Ahhh, school is about to start again. And so begins the days of trudging from building to building across our tiny little campus, lugging a backpack twice my size on my back. Eating granola bars and fruit roll-ups between class, struggling to stay awake, sleeping on the couch in the periodicals room...
I will, once again, devote Fridays to my online classes and Saturdays to homework for other classes, and do my best to keep Sundays as my official Catch Up on Sleep Day. I have, again, sworn to myself that I will NOT procrastinate this semester... paper due in two weeks? It'll be done in one! Math test in a month? I'll start studying today! I make this vow, however, completely aware that it will probably be broken within the first two weeks of school beginning. I'll likely get sucked into the traps known as The Great Book, The Phone, and Facebook that will keep me from accomplishing things as early as I need to...
I am a chronic procrastinator. I only know one person who procrastinates more than me, and he practically puts off breathing until the last second. It is something I'm definitely working on [along with staying neat, not losing my keys, not speeding and not drinking so much coffee, all things that I'm failing miserably at]. I give major props to the people out there who can accomplish something within an hour of finishing it, because my slight OCD and hint of ADD mixed with the tendency to procrastinate lead to a crazily hectic life... a fun one, but oh! SO hectic!!

1. get milk and eggs.

2009-01-04T22:33:00.006-06:00

This year, I want to gain more peace, more patience, and more kindness. I want to laugh more, make other people laugh more, and appreciate every moment to the fullest. I want to regain my ability to find humor in every situation. I want to sharpen my artistic abilities and actually start using them more. I want to graduate from community college and start at the four-year college. I want to lose my caffeine addiction, drink more water, eat healthier, and continue taking the stairs instead of the elevator. I want people to be able to see Jesus in me everywhere I go. I want to work hard, accomplish a lot, and be able to be proud of what I've done. I want to grow closer to God and learn more about him. I want to make new friends and keep the old ones. I want to read more, talk less, listen better, and broaden my musical horizons. I want to keep my standards high. I want to learn to dance. I want to give more. I want to help more. I want to appreciate the people around me more. I want goodness and self control. I want to step out of my comfort zone. I want to get an A in Dr. Willis' World Lit class. I want to love the kids I teach Sunday School to with everything in me [even Eli!], and I want to remember that I'm furthering God's kingdom by doing the stuff I hate doing in the sound booth. I want to stop dropping my cell phone so that it keeps working, and I want to get a new job. I want to improve my memory and I want to be neater. I want to be happy with who I am. I want to grow closer to "my girls" and be everything I need to be to them. I want to keep the good relationships I have with "my boys." I want to grow so much in God this year, that I can look back on December 31st and be able to say, "Wow.... look at how far I've come!"

little people

2009-01-03T22:17:00.001-06:00

Oh, Brian!

blank slate, new start

2009-01-02T15:39:00.004-06:00

I brought in the New Year surrounded by people I love, singing "Our God is an Awesome God" around a campfire.
It was the best way to start off 2009, in my opinion.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!
In his mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade- kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith- of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire- may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."
-1 Peter 1:3-7

dos mil nueve.

2008-12-31T18:24:00.002-06:00

"New Year's eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things that the passage of another twelve months may be noted; and yet no man has quite the same thoughts this evening that come with the coming of darkness on other nights."
--Hamilton Wright Mabie

sugar and spice and everything nice...

2008-12-29T22:37:00.005-06:00

I work at McDonalds, and we see a LOT of regulars in there. I don't know most of their names... but they all have nicknames, of course... at least in my mind. For instance, there's My Fries Had BETTER Be Hot Lady, Bacon Egg and Cheese Biscuit Sub Canadian Bacon Lady, Shaky Senior Coffee Man, Newspaper Dude, Funny Little Man, Sausage Burrito With Two Mild Sauces Dude, and Sneezing Chicken Nugget Man [don't even ask!]. Some of them I'm glad to see every day... some of them make me groan inwardly when I see their car pulling in, and some of them are just there.
My absolute favorites, though, are three elderly women that come in every Monday morning around ten. They always come in one at a time, sit in the same booth, and order three senior coffees... they want their cream on the side, because one of them doesn't like cream, one of them likes one cream, and one of them likes only half a cream, and our machine can't do that. Occasionally they order three apple pies, too, but not every week. They take turns paying, every week... their order never totals more than $3.50, but they are very careful to make sure one of them doesn't end up paying two weeks in a row. They take their coffee to their booth, then they always sit there and talk for at least an hour, often more.
They talk and talk and talk, and laugh, and talk, and laugh some more. They're all at LEAST 65, and it is so much fun to watch them talk and whisper and giggle like a group of girls. I love to pretend that they have all been friends since they were about 14. They probably went to the local high school together, tubed down the creek in the summer together, had sleepovers, went on group dates, maybe even had the same summer job!
From there, the story could go several directions. They may have married and moved off to different parts of the country, but still kept in touch. Maybe they all have moved "home" just in the last couple of years, and it was a great, fantastic reunion!
Or, maybe they all just stayed here, got married, raised their children together, and grew old together!
Maybe two of them moved away, and one stayed, or vice versa.
My favorite, part, though, is hoping that one day me and my girlfriends now will do the same thing one day. Right now we are all headed for very different lives, and within a couple years we'll probably be scattered across the country. It's fun to imagine, though, that one day we'll come back together- and oh! The stories we'll have to tell THEN!
One day I plan on taking my break while those ladies are there and asking if I can join them... I'd like to ask them how they met, how long they've been friends. Maybe they just met... but it would still be fun to learn about. =)

"My true friends have always given me that supreme proof of devotion, a spontaneous aversion for the man I loved."
--Sidonie Gabrielle Colette

open THAT one up!

2008-12-24T00:48:00.006-06:00

"Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is
Christ the Lord."

I've had a hard time getting into Christmas this year. I don't really know why, but for some reason the christmas parade was boring, the baking has not looked appealing, shopping was dull, the carols sounded cheesy, and all the rosy-cheeked people coming into work wishing everyone a "Merry Christmas!" were simply annoying.

Sunday, though, my pastor talked about Jesus coming as a gift. He said every time the word "gift" is used in the new testament, it's used in reference to grace. It kind of reminded me of what Christmas is really about... and it all seemed worth it again.

"For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."
Romans 6:23

"Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!"
2 Corinthians 9:15

...somehow, the last couple of days, it's been easier to get into the Christmas spirit. I even told someone Merry Christmas today. =)

finger-lickin' good.

2008-12-18T16:04:00.007-06:00

I made gingerbread men with my three-year-old cousin the other day. We had so much fun.
He and his one-year-old brother sat on the counter beside the mixer while I made the dough. They had to help me dump the ingredients in, of course! When I put the brown sugar in, their mouths were both so full of the hard pieces of sugar from the bottom of the bowl that they just let me do it myself, but when it came time to put the flour in, they definitely needed to assist me.
I let Blake [the three-year-old] do it. He grabbed the cup measure, aimed for the bowl... and halfway made it! Half of the flour landed neatly in the bowl, but the rest landed outside, all over the counter, the mixer, and us. Blake stared at me in shock, completely upset by the mess he'd made, and I had to stifle laughter when Brian, who was in great distress, moaned "Ohhhh noooo! OHHHH NOOOO!"
We finished the rest of the dough-making with not much drama, and I cut out the men and baked them while the two boys took naps. When they were out of the oven and all 7 colors of frosting were mixed up, though, Blake had to help me decorate.
He got his own cookie and excitedly began spreading frosting on it. When he was done, the cookie had all seven colors of frosting on it. We're not talking like, a dot of orange and dot of pink, either. We are talking a GLOP of orange, a PILE of pink, a LOAD of blue, etc. etc.
I showed him how to use the decorating tube so frosting wouldn't come out the top for the first few colors. After that, he assured me he could do it all by himself, so I let him try. I wasn't watching, but I knew exactly what happened when I heard him cry "Ohhhhh dear...."
I turned around, and sure enough... not only was Mr. Gingerbread Man doused in purple frosting, but Blake's hands were coated in it. Looking up at me sheepishly, he just shrugged and said "Oh well... guess I just have to lick it!"

God. God is.

2008-12-09T22:20:00.001-06:00

What if Jesus had been born in modern times?
Imagine Mary, a, like, 14 year old girl, walking around pregnant.
Imagine the reaction when people asked her who her "baby-daddy" was.

ahahaha.

math is not my subject.

2008-12-08T17:47:00.006-06:00

It started like this...

And slowly, but VERY steadily, turned to this...

16 weeks, four packages of wide-ruled notebook filler paper, 2 boxes of granola bars, 12 felt-tip pens, three 24-count packs of bottled water, 3 boxes of Crystal Light, 24 individual packages of Shockers [the candy], 2 boxes of Fruit rollups, 3 spiral bound notebooks, approximately 12 tanks of gas, and about 30 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches later, the semester is almost over.

Only 4 finals to go!

red is my favorite color.

2008-12-07T15:05:00.003-06:00

I taught in Graceland [our church's kids ministry] for the first time today. Well, not really for the first time. When our church first started, like 6 or 7 years ago, me and a couple friends practically RAN the kids ministry for ages 2-5... it was two different classes, and like 4 of us rotated teaching them. Looking back, I can't believe the adults entrusted a bunch of 13 year olds with that kind of responsibility! We did a good job, though. I haven't taught in like 4 years, though, and I'm in the 2's and 3's classroom again now... I love that age group.
Two kids got into a fight over which one of them was three years old [because they CAN'T both be!].
We glued paper stars together with colored glitter-glue, listened to a story about Baby Jesus being born, and sang Away in a Manger...
I kind of miss the days when my biggest problem was that I wanted the red glitter and couldn't have it, or that the kid next to me stole my last pretzel.
I remember one time, when I was like 5, my mom was feeling overwhelmed because me and my little brother were being crazy and the house was a wreck, etc. etc. My aunt, who was living with us at the time, worked at a daycare in town, and she offered to take me and Tyler to work with her for the day, to give Mom a break.
I remember not having very much fun that day, because there were tons of strange kids I didn't know, and I felt too shy to play with them. I had already quit taking naps at home, but they made me "lay down" for at least an hour, because everyone there had to at least try to take a nap.
The worst part of the day, though, was lunch. I distinctly remember eating macaroni and cheese... but I also remember a little boy beside me trying to take my macaroni and cheese away from me! When I tried to defend my bowl of pasta, he poked me in the eye. RIGHT in the eye! With his finger! I remember crying, and nobody doing anything about it.
See? I'm still scarred!

my purse makes my mother cringe.

2008-12-06T13:14:00.002-06:00

I cleaned out my purse today, and I found the following items:
-my wallet
-a toothbrush case [no toothbrush inside it!]
-my camera
-a letter I wrote to a friend a few weeks ago and never sent
-a plastic bag containing a travel toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, and a bottle of eyedrops
-a flashlight
-a checkbook
-a small snowglobe given to me by JC Penney on Black Friday
-two crunchy Oats 'n Honey granola bars
-two small boxes of crayons
-a pack of small, travel playing cards
-an empty mini-dv tape case
-the wrapper for the mini-dv tape case
-a box of icebreakers
-a bottle of Tylenol
-a small tube of Ibuprofen
-a plastic bag containing about 14 sample packs of advil
-one of those rubber toys that you press on a table and that pops back up in the air
-a Transformers happy meal toy
-a second bottle of eyedrops
-two Crystal Light drink mixes, one Lemonade flavored and one Sunrise flavored
-an ink pen
-a package of AAA batteries
-two sets of earphones, one pink and one silver
-a cell phone holster
-a shopping list
-a baggage claim ticket from my trip to New York
-three receipts, one from McDonalds, one from Walgreens and one from Diamond Gas
-a mysterious spring that looks like it came from an ink pen
-two random pieces of clear plastic
-four boxes of Stride gum, two empty, two full
-sixteen empty gum wrappers

...this is why I can never find anything.