"two birthdays, a grill, and some non-exclusiveness"

Oh the days of being in Murray, when a birthday meant lots of food, lots of people and the chance to write a goofy email.
For some reason, as I was searching my gmail account for a friend's address, this email came up.
I wrote it to invite people to a birthday party, and re-reading it made me giggle. 


Reason number 7,945 that I miss Murray.... I don't get a chance to write emails like this.

"Dear friends.
For some odd reason I was put in charge of sending out the invite email for the big shindig Danni and Susan are having tomorrow night for Danni and Kaylee's birthday. I guess you could call it a birthday bash. I believe, however, that a "bash" is violent and a "shindig" sounds like it originated from the 70's. So let's go with shindig.
Anyways, let me tell you several things.
1) Grill is provided, and so is the meat.
2) We need sides. Lots of them. And not the kind found under your arm, the kind that comes in a bowl or casserole dish that is edible.
3) Drinks, chips, and some desserts are also acceptable.
4) I am not an elephant, therefore I don't remember everyone's email address. So.. if someone's email is not in here, PLEASE invite them. Mk. Thanks.
5) I need to know if you are coming, and if you are bringing something (please do) and what it is.

Danni's NEW apartment is 1411 Hillwood. You drive past WalMart (it's on your left), take the second road to your right after you pass the hotel on your right -- NorthWood. Turn left on Hillwood. It's the only 2 story duplex on the road, it's on your left and it's 1411.

It starts at 6:30, tomorrow night.
Email me back (although I prefer carrier pigeon. they're cuter.)

All my appreciation,
Lady of the Lake of Shining Waters.


P.S. This is not formal ladies and gents, we prefer that you do not show in formal attire. A.K.A. Tuxedos and evening gowns.

I Turned on the Radio

I never listen to the Radio. Why? Because christain radio stations tend to play the same 15 songs for 10 years in a row. Like this one below. But today I turned on the radio. And it was a good thing. Because I needed to hear this song. Especially the parts underlined.


"I Need You To Love Me"
Barlow Girl



Why, why are You still here with me
Didn't You see what I've done?
In my shame I want to run and hide myself
But it's here I see the truth
I don't deserve You



But I need You to love me, and I
I won't keep my heart from You this time
And I'll stop this pretending that I can
Somehow deserve what I already have
I need You to love me



I, I have wasted so much time
Pushing You away from me
I just never saw how You could cherish me
'Cause You're a God who has all things
And still You want me



Your love makes me forget what I have been
Your love makes me see who I really am
Your love makes me forget what I have been




God's grace is a gift that I'll never stop gawking at.

I Think I Hate Halloween....

Last night, I was laying in bed after browsing over Facebook's newsfeed. It was filled with Snow Whites, goblins, cowboys and naughty chefs. And so I started thinking about how much I dislike Halloween.

I hate the darkness of Halloween... that it's a holiday where dimmed lights, cobwebs, skeletons and motion-detecting horror scream machines are on everyone's Wal-Mart list.

I hate the arguments about whether Halloween is pure evil, set apart to sacrifice children that satanists raise just for this day or whether it's just a day to dress up in the latest Disney princess outfit. (The child sacrifice reference was the title and blurb of an article someone posted on Facebook.)

I hate that American's spend an average of $50's on candy the week of Halloween.

I hate violent costumes. Why is it acceptable to society to dress as a dead bride, with a knife sticking out of your head and blood on your face? If I were to walk around as a rape victim, would you laugh and point and rush to have your picture taken with me?

I hate that the morning news topic on TV is inappropriate outfits for 5 year olds.... that are sold in retailers around the country.

I hate that cleavage is a part of most Halloween costumes, and it doesn't matter how old or young you are... if you've got boobs, show 'em. Mother of __*insert number*__ kids? That's ok, your kids aren't at the wild drunken party to see your immodesty.

I highly dislike Halloween. And I just realized it yesterday.

The Effects of Cold Medicine...

Normally I am pleased when someone goes out of their way to help me.
Normally I think to myself "Wow. How kind was that? Jesus, please bless them today." or "I'm so glad they knew how to help me... because I sure didn't."

But not today.

Here's the story.

I pull up to the parking garage and wait for the gate to lift. It doesn't.
"Oh!", I think to myself, "it's one of the days where they randomly require you to wave your permit in front of a sensor in order to lift the gate."
I open my car door (since my car was not close enough to the sensor) and step out.
I'm immediately jerked back in my seat because I left my seat belt on.
"Please, God. Please don't let anyone have seen that."
Turning around, of course there is a car behind me -- and the girl obviously saw me.
Realizing that my cold medicine is probably the reason for my slightly non-responsive brain, I focus on getting my WKU I.D. out of my wallet and swipe it across the sensor.
Nothing.
I then spend the next 2 minutes trying to get the sensor to read my ID.

I swipe up.
I swipe down.
I swipe across.
I press it against the sensor.
I tap it against the sensor.
I turn my card around, I turn my card upside down....
Nothing.

Finally, the girl in the car behind me (since there is now a long line of cars watching my sniffly, tired, pale and confused self unsuccessfully wave my ID around like a fool) gets out and runs up to my car window and says "use this" and swipes her PARKING PERMIT.
(Clearly the sign said permit... and I'm trying to swipe my ID like I just returned a book from the library.)

Of course, when the gate lifts and I pull into a parking spot, the girl parks next to me.
I choose to hide in my car while talking on the phone to my mother rather than explain to permit-girl why my brain seems a little foggy today.

Considering my opening statement, I grudgingly say that I am still glad she helped me out.
But only because if she hadn't I would have had to get out of my car and wave all the other cars into the other lane, until there was enough room for me to back out and leave in shame.

So here's a half-hearted thank you to permit-girl.

This will have to suffice

I will continue writing blogs. Funny blogs, newsy blogs, inspiring blogs... those kinds of blogs.
As for now.... I'm going back to the always trust-worthy list.

So here is my list for today.

1. I started my internship this week at Group Effort, a boy's group home. I will write about my initial reaction later.

2. I now know that I am 100% sure that I want to be a foster parent.

3. I went to bed at 8:15 last night.... but I was ready to go to bed at 5:15.

4. I'm overwhelmed with homework. The kind of overwhelmed where you have to grab a towel to wipe off the snot and tears that just pooled on the face of your cell phone, that kind of overwhelmed. I have so much reading.... and one of the books that I have to write a paper on is way beyond me. It's intellectual vocabularly is about 10 notches above mine. I despise this book.

5. I'm going to Murray in two weeks... and I'm relieved. I need to see Jennifer, Amanda, Andrew, Mr. Mark Randall, Kathleen.... all of those good people who lift me up and cheer me on in life.

6. My apartment is a mess. "Why?" you ask. Well. I get up. Get ready. Travel 30 minutes to work. Work from 8 - 4:30. Travel 30 minutes home. Take a 45 minute dinner break. Study. Fall into bed (typically as a weepy snotty mess). Get back up. Do you see a time scheduled for cleaning in there? No. Neither did I.

7. I have a planner again. The relief I feel is unimaginable. I can plan and schedule my day. I can write to-do lists, grocery lists, homework lists and movies-to-buy lists... and they will all stay in one book, in one place. I feel rich. And organized. (Thank you, my dear auntie!)

8. I am going to write a short blog about how much I miss people smelling good. (Not that anyone smells bad... it's just that no one wears perfume/cologne around here... and that is a tragedy. Everyone should smell good.)

9. I have a new friend named Danny. He went to culinary school but he refuses to bake for anyone. Supposedly it is my turn to bring a snack to work. He states that he is a "fat man that likes to keep his fat, so no bringin' dang carrot sticks. Shew. bring sumpin' GOOD."

10. I am blessed and highly favored.

Goodnight, people.

The Things You Learn in Grad School....

So here is what I could write about in my blog today:

• All the different kinds of yummy things I could make using pumpkin as an ingredient

• A list of my house plants, their names, and which one I really don't care for but feel pressured to keep

• My confusion to why so many people think that my aversion to cotton balls is so "abnormal"

• Our first official Chi Alpha meeting of the semester, and the awesome things that Amy taught. Topic: Born to Demonstrate

• My annoyance with my glasses and the poor eyesight I have when I wear them; which causes me to tilt my head back and squint at the computer, which I am currently doing. I need to make an appointment. Pronto.

• My delight over my GA position, and the "assignment" that I have been given - which basically means I get to do homework all semester.

• A list of reasons explaining why I think ear wax is completely unnecessary

Although these blog topics are all VERY interesting, I feel compelled to write an excerpt from the textbook that I am currently reading.
The book is the Practice of Social Work, written by Charles H. Zastrow (who does a very fine job since I actually enjoy this textbook. Surprise, surprise!).
The chapter is titled "Counseling from the Client's Perspective" and the topic is "Conceptualize the Problem".
Since this is the type of textbook that tries to engage the bored and caffeine-filled graduate student, there are occasionally exercises provided where a scenario is given (based on the current topic) and you have a space to write out what you would do in that situation.
It's like an uninteresting creative workbook.
I just came across Exercise 5.6: Exploring a Socially Unacceptable Topic with Tact... and it just became interesting.
I'm so glad I read this, as I *ahem* tend to skip over the exercises.... I think of it as a waste of pen ink and that I'm doing my part in saving the environment.

Here is what Exercise 5.6 says.

"You are a social worker at a social service agency."
(Wow! Aren't they genius!? How did they know that I was reading this and that it wasn't an Art History major or something like that? OK. Sorry. Moving on.)

"You are a social worker at a social service agency. You have a client who rather frequently expels intestinal gas. You and the other staff at the agency find such behavior to be obnoxious. The person has been unemployed for the past three months, and in the past 14 years (the client is age 34), he has frequently been fired from janitorial jobs. You wonder if his frequent expulsion of intestinal gas may be a factor in causing his spotty work history. Write the words you would use in having him look at whether his obnoxious habit is a reason for his being discharged from jobs and a reason he has difficulty in now being hired."

....

....

Needless to say, this is one exercise I plan on filling out. 

 I will be a GREAT social worker.

A Poem for Amanda

I have a best friend who is sweet as can be,
She’s sassy, she’s spunky – she’s stronger than me!

Her freckles are lovely, set off by red hair.
But saying you like them will earn you a glare.

Her eyes clearly are hazel, do not call them brown!
She might sigh, huff and puff and then fake a frown.

She knows how to paint, to draw and to sew.
She is quite the accomplished, that anyone would know.

She’s there when I need her, she’ll drive all the way,
She knows how to listen and just what to say.

Conversing with her, the topics always are deep.
She’s one of the few that keeps making me think.

Amanda, dear Amanda, my sweet pal and bud –
Until you move here with me… my tears will make mud.

A Few Ode-to-WKU Letters...

A beautiful campus, located on top of the only hill in Bowling Green, KY.

Our school mascot. Supposedly, red blobs represent a "hill-topper."

Just saying "hilltoppers" did not prepare me for the breath-taking (literally) campus.

Dear WKU, School of "the Hill-Toppers",
   I know that you think that your steep hills and practically vertical stair cases are "good for my health" but in actuality I prefer life, not death.
     Sincerely,
       I'm Completely Out of Breath

Dear WKU,
   I know that as a student of your University I am considered a "hill-topper"; however, the truth of the matter is... I don't "top" hills. Heck, I can't even skip-to-my-lou.
     Sincerely,
      I Despise Walking On Up Campus

**Slight Dramatization**

 

Dear Subway on Campus,
   When I ask for extra napkins, I would appreciate it if you pretended NOT to know they were for mopping up my sweating face. It's your fault you are located at the top of the hill. Not mine.
     Sincerely,
Next Time I'll Pack My Own Lunch and Napkins

Dear Subway on Campus,
   Why didn't you tell me that you aren't the only Subway on campus, and that there was one closer to my office building??
     Sincerely,
       Slightly Peeved and Still Out of Breath

Dear Young and Slightly Vain Students,
    I know how inviting the grassy knoll in the middle of campus is, but it is not actually for you to lay sunbathing on.
     Sincerely,
I've Never Seen That Many Bikinis On Campus Before

Dear Lost Freshman,
    Please. When you are standing in between classrooms 110 and 109 -- don't ask me if I can help you find room 107 with a confused look on your face.
    Sincerely,
     Guess Who Is Unobservant?

A New 'First Day'

Today is the first "official" day of classes on the campus of Western Kentucky University, but it's not the same "first day of class" as it has been for the past 4 years.

I didn't go to prayer at 7:14 AM in the Curris Center at Murray State University. Instead, I prayed in my apartment. Instead of pacing in front of the same 4 potted plants that I have for years... I paced the three inches that the cord on my hair-straightner allowed me.

Breakfast was not in the T-room with all of my wonderful friends. Heck, I didn't even eat this morning -- I forgot (until now).

Parking was actually easier, and closer to my location (thanks to the gigantic parking structure in front of the Academic Complex building), and I was completely grateful for my $90 parking permit.

I'm not sitting at a desk that my thighs don't fit under in Sparks Hall (but don't get me wrong, I love that desk!) I'm sitting at a big-girl (that I am) desk with homework spread in front of me and nothing to work on besides that.

I'm not dirty-dishwater-blonde... I'm a red head.

I didn't wake up with 4 roommates in my house. One still sleeping, one eating cereal and doing her quiet time at the breakfast table, one leaning against the counter while she eats her breakfast, and the other thumping around upstairs. It was just me, and my cats (all outside, homeless, lonely ones) David and Calypso meowing outside my door for their morning chow.

I'm not carrying a backpack with all the books I could possibly need for homework and classes (in order to stay on campus without leaving), rather I'm carrying a highly fashionable and completely unlike me Vera Bradley bag with enough homework to complete 2 class assignments (which is oddly heavier than my back pack in Murray would be).

Today, Katie Gagel is not on Gmail to gab to about the latest happenings, my new red hair, the fact that I really want to fly, or that I'm still waiting for my Toms to come in the mail. Instead, she is most likely getting ready for bed... as it is around 10 PM Buson-Korea-time.

On the first day of classes... my classes aren't actually starting. Blackboard is up and running, giving me plenty to do, pages to write, and dozens of chapters to attempt to absorb; however, face-to-face classes don't start until September 10th. Shockingly enough, I will only meet a total of 6 times for each class. Yes, they are 4 hour classes... but six meetings seems so few compared to MWF and TR classes.

Tonight is the night that everyone in XA meets in the Red Zone? or Fresh Foods? (I can't remember) for dinner and meeting new people. We are not meeting in Winslop.

When I ran into a professor in the social work department today, I did not say "Dr. Chakradhar!! It's so good to see you again! How was your summer!? Have you made your rag rug yet?" Instead, I say "Hi. I'm Savannah, the new GA. You met me at orientation but I have no idea what your name is, can you remind me?" This awkward introduction is followed by an even more awkward handshake... I firmly grip is hand and shake it, then release and pull back too quickly. This causes the professor, who is still gripping my hand, to jerk forward. I guess this point should have said "today, awkward situations still happen to me."

Today I'm the lost-and-need-a-campus-map, befuddled and new person who can't answer any questions that come on the phone because I don't know any answers.

Yes, all of these things are new and different.... But a couple things remain the same.

Jesus still has His hand on my back, pushing forward to talk to the new student who came in the office to drop off papers, telling her how much I like her Bieber glasses.

When I realize that, while today is such a different "first day" than what I have had for the past four years, it's just as great, exciting and filled with new opportunities... He nods His head and smiles (I'm sure of it).

When I begin to feel stressed, panicked and overwhelmed with my schedule, He gently reminds me He is in control as He changes my schedule, my internship, and gives me a job where I can do homework.

When I feel lonely, He surrounds me and tells me something sweet.

When I find a picture of bird silhouette on a background of old lace and pressed flowers... I still squeal with delight and show the person closest to me.

It's a new day, with a big change. But it's the same me, the same source of joy, and I am still blessed and surrounded by good things.

It's worth it. Watch it.

Lamo. I know.

I know it's lame. But I can't help it.
1. I'm addicted to lists... so if I see one that I could fill out, I turn to my blog.
2. I don't have too much time to sit and write a creative post about life, Jesus, or wooden spatulas.
3. I don't remember to sit and write a creative post.
4. I read my Aunt's blog daily. It's two minutes of sliding down in my chair so my back is all slouchy and comfy, wishing that I lived in Duluth and that I had the cleverness, wit, beauty, wisdom and poetic writing rythm that my lovely Aunt does.

So I know, it's lame... but all of my (two and a half) posts that I have written lately (in the past year) are mostly responses to my Aunt's blog. Oh well. Here'goes.
Here is my list of ABC's.

Age: 22. Thankfully, this is the year that I remember this. For some odd reason it was impossible to remember, last year, that I was 21.

Bed Size: Twin. But I'm pretty sure I could stretch out on a California king all by myself. I'll need that someday (soon) when I have a job and a Golden, Malamute and Akita sharing it with me. *leap of excitement*

Chore You Hate: Folding laundry. I don't do it. I try, I make promises, I write in my journal, I pray... and nothing. It doesn't happen. I hate it. So instead, it sits in a heap on my floor. Which is fine. Someday I'll have a closet, and I'll be hanging everything up. Underwear, bra's, my Sunday best, pajamas, scarves, everything. Nothing will be in a drawer.
Pah! Silly!! Drawers are for scrapbooking material and dog toys.

Dogs: Future dogs: Golden Retriever, Malamute and Akita. Throw in a good loyal mutt too.

Essential Start of Your Day: An extra hour of sleep.

Favorite Color: Turquoise, Grey-blue, Mossy Green, Browns... Pretty much anything you would find in the life of a wood elf.

Gold or Silver: Either. But I like tarnished, old, antique metals. If it's too bright -- Yuck.


Height: 5’10″, unfortunately... since I seem to be taller than 99% of guys I know. According to the all-trustworthy Wikipidia, the average height of males aged 20-29 in America is 5'10''. It's a lie. It's all a lie.


Instruments You Play(ed): Psaltry, Penny Whistle, Mountain Dulcimer.

Job Title: Unpaid, temporary full-time social work intern.


Kids: I'm simply a babysitter. I currently sit on Isaiah (2), Mark Andrew (2) and Siler (3).


Live: Murray, KY. Soon to be Duluth. Yes, I know, it's cold.... but trust me.... when the word "Duluth" is not only chosen for you by some random "findyourspot.com" website but is THEN sung in Veggie Tale songs... you know it's a sign from God.   *wink, wink*

Mom’s Name: Christine Mary, Marmie, Momsy, Mutha, Mimsy, Mom, Moo Moo. (totally kidding about the Mom part).

Nicknames: Scooter, Snoop dogg, Scoot, Van, Savvy, Vannah, Sav, and Flowing Grasslands. (Flowing Grasslands is a new one. Thanks Chad!)

Overnight Hospital Stays: Nope.

Pet Peeve: When people chew with your mouth open. Yes, it's understandable if I can hear you crunching on carrots, but I should not be able to hear pudding slopping around in your mouth.    
OH! And noise at night. That's annoying.

Quote From a Movie: (after being seasick) "Carrots!? Why is it always carrots?? I didn't even eat carrots!!" - Milo, Disney's Atlantis

Right or Left handed: Right. But a new years resolution since the time I was, eh... 10? was to right with both hands.


Siblings:  Mr. Eric Townley and my adopted sister, Ms. Jennifer Lofland. She's the runt of the family.


Time You Wake Up: 7:00. Prayer meeting starts at 7:14. Needless to say... sometimes I wear yesterdays makeup.

Underwear: I'm a strong believer.

Veggie You Dislike: Beets. Cooked carrots. Peas.


What Makes You Run Late: A Martha Stewart Magazine. Or Youtube videos.

X-Rays You Have Had: Fingers, Ankles (each one several times), Knees, Teeth, Dorsal Fin.
     I'm sorry folks. I am in a really sarcastic and stupid mood. Sigh.

Yummy Food You Make: Creamy chicken enchiladas. Panini's. Vegetable Tempura.

Zoo Animal You Like Best: Bats and sting rays... all though, I really don't like the zoo. I haven't gone since I was probably 12... but still. I'd rather see animals on Discovery Channel being tracked through the jungle, rather than through iron bars.

I love how that ended on a really serious note.

Goodbye.

They were all one in a million...

In a recent post on my Aunt's blog she wrote about all of her grandparents, sharing a word she associated with each of them. I thought this was a wonderful idea, so instead of posting a lengthy reply on her blog, I am writing my response here.

First of all, before I begin, it is important for you to know two things: 1) My chosen words will most likely be associated with my favorite memory of them.... 2) I have a lot of grandparents.

Grandpa Sooter: Bread. Every time that I have visited my grandpa, he immediately took me to the store to buy two things -- sweet sticky cereal, such as cookie crisps (which were not allowed at home) and bread to feed the seagulls with. If I went and spent a week with him, it was highly possible that we went every other day to go feed the seagulls. We would take our loaf of bread, drive down to the beach and spend the day running from the waves, building sandcastles, lecturing him about where to or not to throw his cigar butts, and throwing bits of junky bread to hungry, greedy, and overly obnoxious seagulls. I always tried to feed the little runt of a seagull, maybe the one that had an injured foot or seemed to be missing a feather, and he always made an effort to toss a piece of bread to the top-dog of the flock (which always was a very proud and beautiful bird). It was always my favorite day spent with him...

Grandma Dorothy: Beautiful. Now my grandma is possibly the fairest of them all, without a doubt, but what I am referring to is the perfume Beautiful, by Estee Lauder. Where I am working now, there is a woman that comes in every Monday and Friday (to take part in Wii bowling) who wears this same perfume. Every time I speak to her, I tear up and sigh with longing to hop on a plane to California to see my beautiful grandma. The reason I associate this to her is not just because its the perfume she has always worn, but because every time that I have gone to visit her I have returned with something doused in that smell. If I remember correctly, the last time I was with my grandma, I returned home with a gorgeously fluffy and ridiculously soft bathrobe... I still have it and I can still smell her perfume. It's this perfume that always starts the memories of total laughter, playing the game Trouble at the dining room table, and counting pennies. These are the best memories a girl could have. I could write a book with them.

Grandpa Carlos: Refrigerator. This is the funniest memory that I have of any of my grandparents.... I remember going up to Grandma Bertha in the late afternoon and asking for a snack or a  cookie from one of the six sitting around the kitchen. As a good grandma should, she always shooed me out of the kitchen all the while "tsk"ing and "hmph"ing saying that I was going to ruin my dinner if I ate something now.... So I would go out to Grandpa Carlos' shop. Sitting a little bit away from the house was the ultimate man cave, complete with radio, tools, wood, dirt, and a refrigerator. From what I can remember, Grandma never set foot in his shed. She didn't care about tools and typically left him to fix such and stuff and create this and that in his beloved tool shed. Anyways, I would go out to his shed, tell him that I was hungry... What do you think he did? He opened up his refrigerator and let me pick out a snack. You would be shocked and amazed (some even horrified) at the display of eats he had. He had everything from cupcakes and cookies to Popsicles, ice cream and fudge. He had pudding and jello, soda and juice, Gatorade and yogurt. Everything a hungry (and disobedient) child could desire. So I would hop over grab a soda pop and maybe a Popsicle, and head over to my chair next to him. I would eat my Popsicle, and sigh in satisfaction when it didn't matter that I dripped my grape Popsicle on the wood-shavings covered floor. It was a child's dream place, and I'd give anything to go back to that.

Grandma Bertha: Now this one is hard.... I think of Grandma Bertha and I think of love, warmth, letters, hugs, cooking, and so much more. I honestly don't think that I can pick just one word, so let's go with two. Spiders and Homework. It makes me shake my head and chuckle out loud as I sit here getting ready to tell you of my mischievous behavior as a kid at my grandma's house. We all know that I really enjoy a good practical joke... and, unfortunately for Grandma, it all started at her house. Every morning while she was making Mexican chorizo and eggs in a skillet I would sneak into her room and place a plastic spider under the messed up covers on her bed. And everyone morning, she would go in to make her bed, find the gummy fake spider, and start yelling. She would find me peering around the door frame, squealing with laughter, and start chiding me half in English and half in Spanish. She would point her finger at me, and say "Do you want your Grandma to die of a heart attack? Do you want that blood on your hands??" and proceed to tell me how badly I had scared her. Now.... I don't know if I really did scare her or not, but it certainly was rewarding to have her scream like that. Which is why I continued to put spiders in her bed every day I spent with her, until my parents and I moved from California to Tennessee.
The second word, homework, will be a short story. Basically, when I would bring all of my homework (remember, I was home schooled) to my Grandma's house on the days that my Mom would work, I would take my homework sheets and stuff them under furniture. Spelling worksheets, social studies.... they all went under the kitchen hutch or her bedroom dresser. They were never found until after we moved to Tennessee. How convenient for me!

Grandpa Harold: Unfortunately, I don't have very many memories of my Grandpa Harold... although I have been taught and told so many wonderful things about him from my mom. I know that he was sweet, kind, gentle and an absolutely wonderful father, husband and grandpa. If I had to pick a word(s) to describe him, or to associate to him it would have to be something along the lines of Easter Egg. I remember one Easter, me and all the other cousins lounging in the living room while the moms, aunts and grandma were in the kitchen. I remember that Grandpa pulled me over to him, sat me on his knee and whispered to me the location of the prize Easter egg. This specific Easter egg had a $10 bill in it... and I distinctly remember my cousin Benjamin being adamant that he would be the first to find the golden egg. Obviously he wasn't, and I was.

Grandma Connie: Generosity, to the extreme. Again, I don't have many memories of my mother's side of the family... so I don't have as many memories of her mother and father as I do my other grandparents. Grandma Connie died soon after we had moved from California, and I have a hard time recalling too many memories of her. But I do know that I loved her, loved spending time in her house filled with rabbit decorations, and loved going "out on the town" with her. I remember her being sweet and loving, always hugging me and kissing me on the forehead... and I remember her always giving her time, her things (which little girls love, especially old perfume bottles), and taking me shopping for a special treat. Trips out with Grandma were always sweet, and made me feel like a grown-up. We would always go to a very special little local cafe, and browse around some local boutiques. She was even the one to buy me my first and only barbie doll.... and the first to start loving a driveway lined with flowers.

This just about covers it.

I Am……an animal lover and not ashamed to admit it.
I Want…… all of this "where am I going to graduate school and where will I be living" muddledness to become clear. But I also want Jesus to take care of me in His way.
I Should……wake up earlier in the morning. Ya know... get some Jesus time in BEFORE my day starts.
I Wish…… that Katie Gagel and Jennifer Lofland would not move away from Murray before I do.
I Hate……the devil’s cruel assaults on families. *not originally mine, but it IS what I hate*
I Fear…….earthworms.
I Hear……clothes in the dryer and someone brushing their teeth in the bathroom.
I Search…… for useless facts about everyone I know on Facebook. Yes, I am a Facebook Stalker.
I Wonder……what I did before Gmail's Chat existed?
I Regret…….coming into college as a Biology major.
I Love…….wearing flowers in my hair, planning dinner parties, and getting my home ready for guests.
I Always……have wanted to be a stay at home wife and mom.
I Usually……laugh WAY too loudly. It's a twisted type of "Guffaw".
I Am Not……accepting of change
I Dance……like a crazy fool - when I'm alone.
I Sing…….waaaaay too loud when I'm in the car by myself.
I Never…….have watched Star Wars or liked oatmeal. I know, I'm un-American.
I Rarely……go without Diet Coke.
I Cry……during every episode of the biggest loser.
I Am Not Always……humble or mindful.
I Lose……my school I.D. constantly.
I’m Confused……about the next step of my life.
I Need…….the love of God, praise and worship music, friendships, post-it-notes, a fully stocked kitchen, and more love for people.
I Have……the most amazing internship in the world. As well as the best family, the most wonderful friends, and I have access to the most extrordinary and prized campus ministry in the nation.