Furry friends from Days Gone By

I don't know about you, but I have a really hard time getting rid of stuffed animals. Daniel hates that little thing about me. Just this morning I was trying to convince him to fix this broken bear because I can't stand to throw it out even though it's missing both of its legs. but that's another story. The story I have
to tell today is about me as a little girl, collecting the best stuffed animals. We played a lot when I was a kid. I went through a phase where I really only played with my animals. I sort of had a whole world made up in my head with them. I loved those happy days. And I love my animal friends because they remind me of that time.

Today I cleaned up the patch of bears, dogs, cats and various other animals that have been living on top of my wardrobe. I might send a couple away to consignment, but the ones who made the cut... well, I'm sure you're all dying to know. So I went ahead and created a yearbook.

(Top Left) Bear 2. Yes, that was actually his name. He might actually be an Ewok. Some how, he managed to make it into my top four animals when I was a kid, but I don't know why. Mom was right. He's ugly. (Top Center) Baby hear. He got a hole and the plastic beads fell out, but I liked to chew on them so it was all good. (Top Right) Ape. (Creative names). My great uncle gave me that. all of the other kids got little birds that chirped when you bounced them on a string. The gorilla makes squeeking noises. He was always the bully when I played with the animals, but I'm sort of fond of him. He has a good face.
(Bottom right) Snoopy: Nuff said. Freaking awesome.
(Bottom center) Red Frog: I don't really know why I've kept him. Some girl I didn' really even like much gave him to me for my 8th birthday. He croaks when you roll him around. and he's red. Very red. I think he might end up in the goodwill box this time around. (Bottom Right) I think he's actually the snuggles bear from the downey commercials way back in the day. He has a baby rattle inside.





Above: (From left to right): Goaty. By far my favorite stuffed animal. He usually went everywhere with me. Mom picked him up in North Dakota for me and she didn't get any of my other siblings any presents. I lost him twice. Once in a storage room at the house for several months. I thought he was gone forever until Mom went to organize, and there he was. The other time, I did leave him behind at a hotel in Colorado. Thankfully, MOm had to go back after a week for my grandpa's funeral and she got him out of the lost and found! It's a great story. Wilbur He was pretty much around from the time I was born. One house we lived in, Mom came in singing a song from the Charlotte's Web movie, and one of piggy's eyes popped right off and fell into a heat intake. He only had one eye for years and then one day MOm randomly just decided to sew new ones on. i love that pig. Lammy Another one who was around, I think since I was born. I carried him all over. most people say it's a bunny, but I don't think so. He was always my favorite toy. I used to lift up the little bib to find the soft fur underneath. And, the best of all, it plays Frere Jocha when you wind it up. Except my brother stepped on it and it never worked again.

From left to right again. Dog. I know it looks like a blob but it's really a dog. He used to have paper eyes glued on, but they fell off so all that's left is a mouth. I won him at an Awanas thing when I was probably four. I guess he's just evidence of mercy, because I can't bring myself to throw the darn thing away. He's hideous. He was even when he first showed up. Aslan. I was probably in middle school when I got him at a tag sale I went to with my mom. Some old person couldn't part with him, and neither can I. He looks very antique, and I've had to patch him up a few times, but I think he's really cute. So stately, yet so fierce. He likes to lead the other animals around, just like Aslan in Narnia. Hu-You. No idea why we named him that. No idea how we kept him around so long. He's sort of a family toy, but I ended up with him since I have a house and no one else does. He's actually the 1980 Olympic mascot, a Russian bear. He used to have an Olympic belt, but that disappeared a long time ago. I checked. He's worth about 5 bucks on ebay in good condition. That makes Hu-You worth about five cents. Aside from the great memories.




(Left) Masked Marada. He terrorizes the night, stopping crime in its tracks. My mom never liked him, but I think he's great. He thinks he's a super hero. (right) Josh. No idea how I picked that name. My grandma brought all three of us animals with jackets and scarves one year. my brothers got a panda and a dog, and I got this koala. I named him JOsh. He was Ape's friend, and they were always up to no good together. :)

Well, there you have it. Welcome to my crazy world. That was only half of the great things I could tell you. Only half of the animals that I need to go clean up before Daniel gets home.

"Under the Overpass"

Okay, I can't stay quiet about it anymore! I was going to wait til I'd read the whole book, but I'm not going to. (I must be tired or frazzled; I just had to go back and correct two grammar errors in one sentence!)

I've been reading this really good book called Under the Overpass, a journey of faith on America's streets. It's by Mike Yankoski. He undertook a strange mission when he was a sophomore in college. After hearing a sermon about being a real Christian, he felt led to become homeless for a time. He found a companion, Sam, to go with him, and a board of advisers to keep him in touch with reality and set out with 3 objectives:
1) To better understand the life of the homeless in America and to see firsthand how the church is responding to their needs.
2) To encourage others to "live out loud" for Christ in whatever ways God is asking them to.
3) To learn personally what it means to depend on Christ for daily physical needs and to experience contentment and confidence in Him. (page 19)

It's an easy-to-read narrative of his thoughts and experiences on this six-month journey. I have been impressed. It's made me think of things I never had, taught me new things about life, and about God, and it's challenged me.
I love reading and over the years I've read a lot of nonfiction, because I like it a lot. This may be my new favorite (aside from a handful of Lewis' books, which are in their own category). Buy it. I'll buy it for you if you ask me to. I've learned so many things. Tonight's reading has been the best yet, because they've been talking about their experience with churches. I can't explain what I'd like to, so I'm just going to put in an excerpt from the book which you can read if you'd like. I hope I'm not infringing on anyone's copyrights.
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After addressing a broken flip-flop and semi-serious injury to his foot, Mike talks about his visit to a church (p 147):
Conversations at the front door stopped as we walked up. I had to ask for a church bulletin from the girl who was handing them out. She looked at us as if we had just escaped from a wildlife preserve. but we headed inside for the service anyway and found an empty pew three feet from the front. Thewhole room couldn't hold more than a hundred, so our chances of going unnoticed were not good.
WE still had a few minutes before the service began, and Sam had an idea. "I'm going to ask the pastor if he can help us out with some food. My stomach is growling." he got up and walked away, but was back shortly, looking disgusted.
"You won't believe what just happened," he said. "So I went and asked for the pastor. He was standing in the back, getting some coffee. I asked him if he could help us out, if he could hook us up with someone who could feed us. I told him we didn't have any money, that the panhandling here was bad."
Same paused and shook his head. "You know what he said? He said, 'That's not what we do here. We're here to worship. We can't confuse our purpose.'"
"Wow...," I said, slowly.
... [after the service] While people filed out, Sam and I kept our seats, journaling and trying to capture the moment and our frustrations.
After a few minutes, three guys came through the pews to talk. "Hey guys, I'm Drew," one guy said, extending his hand. We introduced ourselves and told them we were living on the streets. after that, the talk rambled around general topics. When I could see the conversation was going nowhere, I decided to try an experiment. (I'll admit my reaction was a little harsh, and done out of frustration, but still...)
I set my backpack on the pew between us. Then I reached down and grabbed my broke flip-flop and set it atop the pack. some of the blood was still wet, but most of it had dried, caking the sandal in a dull brown.
"Man, look at all that blood," I said, looking to Sam and pointing to my sandal.
"Bro, does that hurt?" Sam asked, catching onto my experiment.
"A little," I said, reaching for my bag. "It's because my flip-flop is broken. You see?" I said, looking up at the guys and pulling on the broken tongue of the flip flop.
They nodded by said nothing. I pulled out the dwindling roll of duct tape and ripped off a long piece--a really long piece, stretching it loudly across in front of me the full length of my arms.
... When I finished [the long process of fixing my flip flop], I dropped the sandal and slipped my foot into it. "Well done!" Sam said.
Drew agreed. "Quite a process!" he said.
"Yep," I agreed and waited.
"Well," Drew said, looking around, "we've got to take off, but it was a pleasure talking with you." He squeezed my shoulder as he left. "I'm praying for you," he said. "You too," he said to Sam. And the three walked away.
Shocked, Sam and I carried our packs and guitars out into the bright, sunny Berkely day. As we walked toward People's Park, I broke our silence with a question.
"Why do we so often overlook obvious ways to show the love of God we so loudly proclaim?" Without waiting for an answer, I charged on. "If someone's thirsty, give them a drink! If someone's hungry, feed them! I mean, this is not complicated stuff."
Sam agreed. "Who is to show the world Christ's love if not the church?"
"No one," I said definitively. Then I stopped and looked directly at Sam, who had also stopped. "Do you feel loved?"
"Nope."
"Do you feel fed?"
"Nope. I'm starving. What about you?'
"I'm starving and my feet hurt, and that guy back there knows it. but hey, he's praying for us."

Taken from "Under the Overpass" copyright 2005 Mike Yankoski III Multnomah Books
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The rest of the chapter has an incredible story about some other people they met, but you'll just have to read it to get the good news part. the story convicted me, because I bet those guys who stopped and talked to them thought they were doing a good thing. I guess they were, but, at the same time, there was more that they could do. I don't want to be a person who says "I'll pray for you" when there are obvious needs that I could meet. I want to be generous and loving and genuinely care. That chapter, by the way, begins with a quote from A.W. Tozer in Of God and Men: "It is much easier to pray that a poor friend's needs may be supplied than to supply them."

Joshua and the Tent of Meeting

Exodus 33:11 The LORD would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend. Then Moses would return to the camp, but his young aide Joshua son of Nun did not leave the tent.

I ran across this verse while preparing devotionals for theatrical camp earlier this summer. It stuck out to me, amidst all of the strange tales of God's wrath and rules, and the wonders He preformed. People didn't know God back then like we know Him now. In fact, He'd been kind of quiet for a long time before Moses arrived on the scene. His people (the Israelite) had to rely on Moses to connect them to Him, and He often seemed unapproachable and uncaring. That's another topic. This verse I found is from a section where they talk about how Moses set up a tent to meet God in, and how the Israelites had to stay away because God's glory was too much for them to handle. And yet, there's this kid, Moses' young aide who couldn't get enough of it. He was privileged anyway, to be able to go into that tent with Moses. And then he just wanted to stay.

I remember a time when I felt I couldn't get enough of God's presence. I was young and impressionable. Maybe I was passionate, it's hard to say, because it seems so long ago and so misguided now. If you know my story, you might know how changing churches caused a crisis of belief, and, I think, in the end, a little bit of hardening in my heart. I love God so much, and I want to please Him and serve Him, and I do what I can to glorify Him, but alas, I do not linger in the tent. I rush through my prayers and Bible-reading, hoping for a quick answer, praying because I think I should and then hurrying off into my chaotic day.

We can speak with God face-to-face, unlike the Israelites, but often I just approach my relationship with Him as if I can't. I list off my concerns and do my duty, and hurry away, hoping that He'll tag along with me for the day. I read that verse and realized how much I want to savor His presence in my life again. How much I want to be like Joshua.

Old Friends

When Daniel and I first met, we realized how many mutual friends we had at church. I guess our compatible personalities made way for that (and the fact that all of his friends were girls). The connections went deeper than we knew, however. The people Daniel had hung out with in grade school had been in my Sunday school class all those years ago. A few of the connections got rekindled, since I was still in contact with a couple of the kids that we'd both known.
One person in particular, happened to be a pretty good friend to both of us. We called her Rory. Her family lived in the "missionary house" next to Daniel's parents house, so he'd known her for years. I'd known her since first grade. I think we became official friends at a sleepover/lock in in the forth grade when we stayed up "all night" watching McGee and Me and telling stupid jokes. Ahh, those were good times.
Rory usually lived in Africa, so she was only home every four years. But they were great years when she was home.
This week we got to see Rory again, after eight years. (She had attended our wedding and that was the last we saw of her). She was just as enjoyable now. Probably more so.
It's so refreshing to meet up with an old friend and discover that some things just don't change. Through the years, so many of my friends have changed drastically. They've grown up and thought through their opinions about things, and oftentimes, we've ended up not agreeing anymore, and not really having a lot in common. Some of my closes friends have parted ways with me, and I hate it. I don't hate them or their opinions. I just hate that we aren't as good of friends or friends at all.
A long time ago, Rory's dad told me that he loved living in Africa because you could get used to one way of living, and then it never changed. I would have liked that to be my life, but it hasn't. But at least some things haven't. Rory's great personality and sense of humor and ability to relate with me and Daniel hasn't changed.
[editor's note: I told Rory that I was going to find some old photos and post them, but lucky for her, I didn't feel like digging through old boxes and finding those photos, so... maybe next time].

Party Curse

[Warning: pity party ahead]
I have a party curse.
- I don't get invited to peoples' parties. It started in middle school when the snotty girls invited everyone but me to their birthday dance. It hasn't ended since. Nothing sucks more than finding out that people you hang around with an consider friends decided to do something fun and not bother to mention it to you until after the fact.
- When I plan them, people can't come. Even if they plan to come, on the day of the party, they don't show up.
- When people plan a party for me, they get canceled. It's happened more than once, the most notable time being my 16th birthday when my friends had planned a surprise party for me, and then a giant snow storm came and ruined it all.

I can't help but think it's because I'm not exciting enough to be a priority. Or maybe people are just afraid that I'll ruin something, so they don't invite me to theirs. I have a party curse. I really do. People have good excuses not to come but no one's there. My parties have to be postponed and no one can show up. Whatever party I plan just doesn't seem to work out how I plan it.

Okay, I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself because I had two parties planned this week, and it looks like neither one's really going to work out. My mom's turning 60 and I planned a good surprise party for her, but now she's stuck in Rochester with my dad at the hospital because he needs more tests on his heart. Goodbye well-planned surprise party. Hello "meet my mom for lunch if you can".
I booked a Lia Sophia Jewlery party back in March or something, because it got me a good discount on something I wanted, and there were a couple of other pieces of jewlery I liked but couldn't afford. The only RSVP's I've had have been "no's".

What's wrong with me? Do I pick bad days? Are people not entertained by the same things I am? Are they afraid that they'll be bored? Augh! Probably it's all in my head, and everyone feels like this. But maybe it's a party curse.

Take it from Here

I've had this song in my head for a few days now. I think God's maybe trying to tell me something through it.

Take it From Here by Christine Dente

I've been driving all night long
Trying to find a simple song
To cut through the dark
Lighten up the heart of a world gone wrong

One too many reckless days
Took a toll we couldn't pay
Now we're so lost
We never thought we'd end up this way
But we took off down the back roads
And we tried to go alone
Took the wheel in our own hands
But we couldn't make it home

Would You take it from here?
Cause we've carried on as long as we can
And You've made it so clear
We can't make it on our own
Could You take it from here?

So it goes the old refrain
We know we don't have what it takes
And it cuts to the heart
Lightens up the dark of the world we've made
No more trying to water
Seeds You haven't sown
No more trying to buy the time
We could never own

So would You take it from here?
Cause we've carried on as long as we can
And You've made it so clear
We can't make it on our own
Could You take it from here?

Tiffanie's Place

The house they live in is one of those old mansions that was probably built around the turn of the century when the neighborhood was new and beautiful, with long stretching lawns and no businesses around. Now it's a run-down former apartment building surrounded by businesses and other run-down houses. It's a little unnerving when you first show up to visit, but when you come inside, you are welcomed and you feel a sense of warmth. Tiffanie's decorated it with her own flare, with decorations that detract from the shoddy paint jobs, loose boards, and watermarks. She moved there with her family (husband and four kids) to "do ministry" in the ghetto through a church whose mission is to reach out to the urban community in our area.

She keeps her home like she lives her life--beautiful, with a welcoming air, not afraid of sharing her weaknesses and struggles. Her past is a long story full of scars and darkness, but her life in Christ is new and fresh. Just like her home, the outside might look similar to everyone else's in the neighborhood, but inside there is a contrasting peace and elegance. I want to be that way. I want to be comfortable wherever I am, willing to share my life and goods with others. I want where I live to be a reflection of that, no matter what neighborhood it's in and how old the house is. I want my friends to feel home with me.

I don't see Tiffanie very much anymore, because so many of the things we did together have changed. But I don't mind the chance to visit her in her "Haven in the Hood" and talk about things pertaining to life and godliness. I consider it a privilege.

a graduation poem

I wrote this for a girl I've known for several years now who just graduated from high school. I love her and really hope the best for her life.

For Taffi (Graduation)

You’ve grown up like a little rose
tender among the thorns
you fight to be heard
and long to be loved
even through the pain
even while the thorns prick at you every day
You’ve decided it’s normal
and it’s your lot in life
but sometimes the pain is more than your soft pedals can stand
and sometimes you wish you were dead
and you’d rather give up
than be hurt one more time
But still you rise. You bloom
and try again
hoping for the best
facing disappointment and loss
agony too deep for anyone else to understand

But you are a little rose
for all the beauty inside you
like a gem, glimmering bright there
amidst the thorns
Valuable because you are
beauty in itself
no matter who appreciates it
And you were created for a purpose
maybe you’ve yet to find
unfolding, as you live this life
like pedals that grow
full and bright
you will bloom
some day soon
and it will be hard to recognize you
from the place you began.

Little Rose, these thorns can be cut away
and we will all be amazed
at everything you accomplish
in those days
when you are raised from death to life.

Longing

On the same subject as the previous post, I wanted to add this. A couple of months ago my adult bible fellowship went through Beth Moore's "Patriarchs" study. I'm not one of those die-hard Beth Moore fans, although through the years I've gleaned some excellent things from her material. This poem she wrote and spoke at the end of the study (put to music by Travis Cottrell) has lingered in my mind since I heard it, haunting me sort of. It's her relevant application of the life of Abraham. How well it explains my heart these days, as I yearn for something I can't quite find.

Longing (Abraham's Song) words by Beth Moore

I am longing, longing,
For a place I cannot find
A place no one has told me
A land of a fairer kind.

You have kept Your promise to me
I have all a man could want
Yet I stare into the distance
I ache and still I long.
I'm surrounded by Canaan
Laughter echoes loud
I've loved and lived and followed
Built altars and I've bowed.
I'm longing.

(chorus)

O foolish man, O dreamer
ungrateful in my lot
Am I not here? Is this not dear?
What else could yet be sought?
Where are You, Lord, where are You?
Where is the home You, keep?
You came and wakened longing
Then You hid within the deep
And I'm longing.

(chorus)

I yearn to hear Your voice again
To feel Your presence near
You showed me there is
So much more, so much more then
left me longing here.

Somewhere beyond the stars
I counted one by one
A better country calls me
"Come home, true Canaan's son."

Getting In

Last week and the previous one, I helped with theatrical camp at my church. I got to write the devotion books for the kids to use for the two weeks. This year the play was about Exodus. Basically a kid's version of the 10 Commandments. I wasn't really happy with how the homework turned out, because to me it seemed too difficult for 5th8th graders. There were some who agreed with me, and others who thought they were great. Either way, the work I did on them got me thinking about the Promised Land. There's too much theology in there to explain where my thoughts ended up going, but since then, I've been thinking about heaven and wanting it more and more.
I know that we get to experience God here on earth and find home in Him, but I've felt so unsettled ever since I lost Grace. I want to be there now, where the pain will be gone and I can just hold my little girl and see her in the true image of God. I don't want to live through this life and watch bad things happen and try as hard as I can to be like Jesus but continually fail. Some days I'm tired of the dim glass we have to look at God through. I just want to be there with Him.
It's probably just a piece of my grief surfacing. Lately talk of heaven or songs just cause me to well up with such strong emotions that I cry. I hate being that way because I never used to be "emotional", but there's no way to change it. I want heaven. I want Jesus. I want to see God and know Him fully.
I've been familiar with this quote for many years now, since my brother-in-law attached himself to it. I discovered it about the same time as he did, but it's his, so I haven't used it like it's mine. But these last few months, it resonates so true with me:

"At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of the morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendors we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in." C.S. Lewis

Some day.

wedding remorse

This weekend I'm going to be in my best friend's wedding. My daughter is the flower girl, I'm a bridesmaid, and Daniel will be reading scripture. I'm really excited and happy for her.
It's made me think back to my wedding. I was 19 and really didn't know much about how weddings went or what options I had, so I kind of just did what people told me to. I would change a lot now, if I had a chance to do it over. And because I know you're all interested to hear it, here's what I'd change:
6 bridesmaids instead of 3. I wanted to have my best friend from high school Twan, be a bridesmaid, along with Emily my friend from church, and Becky my cousin, but my mom said it would be easier to just have the girls who lived nearby be bridesmaids instead of trying to get them all fitted for dresses and stuff. So I just went along with it. Daniel didn't have six guys to be groomsmen so I didn't want to make him pick some random people that weren't really good friends. So I had 3.
Music - I would have picked musicians who would actually show up at the wedding instead of calling two days before and canceling. I would have made sure that someone lifted chords for the song I wanted to have. If I could have known the future then, I would have made my sister-in-law (who wasn't related then, but was asked to play piano) play instead of the girl who quit.
Photography - I would have gotten someone with a nice camera to take the pictures.
Family - If I'd had six bridesmaids, I would have asked if my brothers both could have been groomsmen, and I probably would have had my sister (who was only 11 then) be a junior bridesmaid or something.

Everything went fine and we had a nice wedding. But I think some people ended up resenting me for not having them included. and I didn't really want that. I wish I could have known the future then. Oh well. shoulda woulda coulda.

Blogging

I love reading peoples' blogs. Sometimes I stumble on one so interesting, I just sit and read through it all. I mostly love reading my friends' blogs that are just about the things happening in their lives. So since I feel like writing tonight, I'll just give a quick update on my life. Because i should be in bed, but I'm doing this instead.

I've been working on devotionals for theatrical camp. Every year, my mother-in-law helps direct a camp for two weeks at church, where 5th through 8th graders put together a musical to preform. I've always helped in diffent ways, but for the last three years I've written devotionals, which go as homework. The kids bring them back and get points and then they can spend them at a store. Typical sunday-school style reward system. I reallyl enjoy writing the books and exploring the subjects that are in the musicals. This year it's about the book of Exodus. The Ten Commandments and Go Down Moses and all that. I've been having a hard time with the material for some reason, trying to find the right passages to use and some how make them relevant. I think the trouble is there is so much to pick from, and narrowing down what I want to say gets tricky.

My brother is home from the cruise ship tour for three months. His girlfriend Gabi is back with him this week, so I've been hanging around them a lot with the family. My whole family will be home this summer. Good thing I have my own house. We're having a good time right now. My parents just left for a 2-week trip to the Czech Republic.

Other people are back also. My brother and sister in Law, Nathan and Shelly, are back to have a baby. So we're just going to be busy all summer. I don't like being busy, but I like seeing friends and family who live far away.

I finished the book "Christy" and recommend it. I'll probably make a post about that.

I have nothing really intersting to share here. So I will post this and go to bed.

D-Day

D-Day

(In honor of Alvin Rustebakke, 28th Division, Second Ranger Battalion, WWII)

sixty-five years have passed
since the frightful day
when he struggled across the beach
dreaming of home in those Montana hills
saw the world as it was, the horror and agony
the price
paid in lives of friends--these soldiers straggled along the sands
but he saw God that day.

And he’s had a hard time of it
in those years since the war
and I wonder if it might have been different for him
if the ugliness and pain hadn’t come so early
Who can offer insight
into what changed that day in his heart and mind
all the reality
and the faith to back it up

but now his children
live in that freedom
an electrician, a veterinarian, a farmer and mechanic
their children making lives of their own
engineers, architects, psychologists, housewives
mothers, fathers.
new soldiers, fighting in foreign wars
and none will know the hardship he did
So for him the war is won.

In case you wanted to know

Babies don't have knee caps. But they cry a lot.

10 Reasons I love You

Today is my 8th anniversary. I'm so happily married it's ridiculous. To honor my husband, I've composed a list of things I love about him and because I know you all care so much, I'm going to share it with you. [Warning: major sappiness included]

1 - He's compassionate- a trait which I lack in so many forms, but which he helps to complete me. He sincerely cares for people, from faceless victims to closest family.
2 - He's deep. I've always loved that he is capable of thinking hard and analytically about things, and is able to discuss them, presenting his point of view respectfully and clearly.
3 - He's fun. I enjoy being around him, because he can make things funny that aren't funny. He can liven up conversations, and he remembers all of the stupid jokes we have between us. He thinks of creative ways to enjoy life.
4 - He's smart. He wouldn't say it, but he is. :o)
5 - He's a good dad. I'm not just saying it because I'm supposed to. He's so good at making teachable moments, disciplining with love, and being self-controlled. He plays with the girls and genuinely enjoys watching them develop and learn.
6 - He lets me have "me" time. Almost whenever I ask, no matter how stressed out or pressured he is, he's willing to let me do what I need to do, taking care of the kids and putting aside his projects.
7 - He watches chick flicks. And, often enough, likes them!
8 - He's strong. What girl doesn't want a guy who can lift a toilet all by himself?
9 - He knows something about everything. I don't have to use an encyclopedia terribly often because he can answer my questions. And he knows really random things like how to install a refrigerator. He's so useful.
10 - He's spiritual. He really cares about pleasing God and discovering theological truths.

To sum it up, he's everything I want and need, and I don't know how I ever managed to get someone so perfect. Happy Anniversary, Daniel!

9 Years ago... commencement.

I went to a local school's commencement ceremony this weekend, because several kids I know from young life were graduating. I couldn't believe how similar all of the ceremonies in my town are for each school. It was like sitting through my own commencement all over again. Minus being with friends and listening to people I know talk on stage.
It got me thinking--remembering, and it's put me in this nostalgic place all weekend.
My senior year was awesome. I liked my classes. I had lots of friends at school. I had a job but no living expenses, a car I could drive wherever I wanted. I was taking piano lessons, and helping out with stuff at church. And I had a great boyfriend. STill, I don't think I'd go back, except maybe to figure out how to keep my friends longer.
Nine years ago, I sat in the same place as some of those kids at graduation, thinking that the world was ahead of me, and SO GLAD to be done with high school. I thought my friends would be my friends forever. I planned so many things. But the things I planned didn't happen, really, mostly. And the friends I had in high school arne't really my friends anymore (save a couple, and I'm not saying I don't wish the other ones were still my friends because I love them all).

Better things happened. Because the plans I make aren't always as great as I think they are.

Complaining

I have a bone to pick with you. Yes, you!
You should leave comments on my blog to show your feelings about what I've written. Stop being so creepy and pretending like you don't read it when you do. We call that "internet stalking" and, it's annoying.

GRRRRR

For all of the advances in technology, I still can't find a poem I wrote a few years ago! I can't remember enough of the wording to search effectively for it, but I REALLY WANT IT. I can't find the notebook I wrote it in, and I searched through the archives on my xanga account and didn't find it (although I know I posted it). AUGH!

[edit]
I've found it! I was looking in the wrong place! It was in THIS blog instead of the other one (at the time I was still using both blogs).
And, as a happy addition, I discovered that I really enjoy reading things I wrote in the blog. You should read some of my older posts. They were a lot better back then.

Garage Sales

Before spring started, I needed some clothes for Arlene and Jayna. For $25 I went to Wal-mart and got them matching dresses, a pair of booties, one set of pajamas and some socks.
Today I spent about $25 and bought:
a toy piano
floor gym for Jayna with hanging toys intact
magnetic doll house book
doll sized pack-n-play
a sweater, skirt, 2 pairs of pants and 3 sets of pajamas for Arlene
an outdoor toddler play house thing
two shirts for myself
mosquito net to go over a carseat
toy race car set

I'm not too proud to use other peoples' old stuff. I love garage sales.

Are you a Trekkie?

Yesterday my family had to endure a short rant from me about why you can't compare Star Trek to Star Wars. It's like comparing Monster cookies to monster cars. Just because they have the same word in them and fall into the general "sci-fi" genre, does not mean they are, in any way comparable. They just aren't. And that's another story.
If I had to pick one, anyone who knows me would know, I'd definitely pick star Trek though. I don't really get Star Wars. I really just don't get it. I grew up watching the movies and I even saw Episode One in the theater. It made no sense to me.
Star Trek, I get. And I like it. Maybe I've never publicly admitted that. But I grew up on Star Trek. My dad and I used to watch the Next Generation together. And, when the original series made a daytime debut, my brothers and I watched. I saw the pilot of "Voyager" and got hooked. (Although I never seemed to get first rights on picking what we watched on television, so I hardly got to follow any series that I wanted to except for Doctor Quin, but that's just another embarrassing story).
With all of the different series showing and all of the family members interested in their developments, though, I have always had a pretty good grasp on what happens in Star Trek. I know which aliens are which and who's good and bad, and where Captain Kirk is from (i've been there) and I know a little history about each major character. Apparently that's more than most people know.
Apparently I might fall into the category of "trekkie". But I have never worn a Star Trek costume. And I've never gone to a festival or read any fan literature--oh, wait, I think I did read one novel, but it was based on the show. So, I don't know. If Trekkies could be rated on a scale of 1-10, 1 being not very interested and 10 being a complete geek, I'd probably be a 5. There you have it. I'm a little bit of a geek. but you probably already knew that. Where would you stand on the Trekkie scale? I'm interested to know.