Stephen Glass

I think that is a difficult movie to watch because as an audience, we are drawn and get attached to Stephen in the beginning. He even comments about one of his co-workers who doesn't like to be fact checked. They way they set up the movie and events unravel, we never suspect anything like this to happen...until it does. It leaves us feeling betrayed. That's exactly how the editors and his friends must have felt. Especially when they wanted to believe in him so much. At the beginning, you love Stephen and at then end you regret loving him. Then you're left with the feelings of should I keep trying to love him or should I be okay with letting him go? Once again, I'm sure the editors and magazine people had very similar feelings. I think he deserved to get in trouble for that. I wish he hadn't done it and he had done his fiction writing elsewhere because it was brilliant. He did suffer the consequences and his fiction writing did get acknowledged, there was just a lot of deceit in between. I'm still not exactly sure how I feel about everything. I wish he would have been a man about it in the end and owned up to his actions because I think I would have a little more respect for him. I wonder how spot on the movie is compared to real life. I wonder what Stephen thought when he watched it for the first time.

Studio time (a work in progress)

Choose a place that you want to write about.  Say what meaning the place has for you right now, what seems important about it.  Include a narrative of one visit you made to this place, what happened on that visit, and how the trip made you feel.   Begin by telling us how you get to this place: what you see, what you hear, what you smell, and how you feel.  Use all of your senses.

I am walking barefoot up a familiar street when I come to a sudden stop at mailbox 62, which is directly across from 43. I never understood how the neighborhood mailboxes were set up, but that
another story. I had to stop there because seeing that house again causes the floodgates to open and all the memories come rushing so fast all I can do is stop in my tracks and reminisce. So I sit down and stare at the house before me, trying to remember all the little things. I close my eyes and see my room and the walls. The walls are special because they're covered in letters, decorated envelopes, lyrics, inside jokes, and signatures. My life was written on four walls. I see the rest of my room and focus on my bed. Memories of my friends and I having late night talks there start to blur together. I change my gaze to my door, which is open so my eyes are drawn to the afternoon sun shining through the living room. So many things come to mind when I see that room. I remember all the game nights with family over the holidays, summer parties full of silliness inside to avoid the heat outside, and I remember holding my nieces when they were newborns on the couch right where the sun shines the brightest through the window.  I look out the window now and see the time when it wasn't so sunny. When the storm was so bad the trees were bending to the ground and the rain was hitting the window so hard and with so much water that it looked like a watercolor painting. This makes me look out the other window above the sink in the kitchen. I remember staring out that window and admiring my mother's beautiful flowers on the porch. It was almost like a greenhouse and I loved it so. I look past the flowers and see the yard where we had water-balloon fights, played hide-n-seek in the dark, and star-gazed. I snap back to reality here. Maybe the new owners of my house won't mind if I walk around the back. I decided to do it and on the way I peeked in the porch window. No one was home. So I lay down on the grass and stare into the sky, smiling.

Six sates. My life has been spread over six states. There is a beautiful appreciation that forms in the heart of a child that has traveled. I am thankful for what I have experienced, though I am currently still working through the heartache of our last move. I think about the day we drove away from the house I lived the longest in. The house that I grew up in. I would say the house that built me, but that's a Miranda Lambert song and it makes me cry every time I hear it so I won't call it that. I have chosen not to be sad about the move anymore, but to embrace the new things that have flourished from it and remember the life I had there. I think about that day and I hear my mom stifling her sobs as I try and do the same. It's time to be strong. There's no point in crying right now, I'll have time for that later. Be strong for mom, I tell myself. I don't even look back. I can't bear it. I keep my eyes straight ahead and focus on my breathing so my mom doesn't hear me struggling for air. I stick my hand out the window and try to embrace the freedom of leaving as I wonder what is in store. We are on the road. One family split into to cars that contain all our belongings for the next 4 months.

This place I return to over and over again in my head is not only my old home, but the hometown as well. It's where my life was. Now I know I am still living and have another life here, but I did leave a life behind when I left Georgia. I often think about my favorite memories there. I believe it's good for the soul to do that. I think about the late night trips to Waffle House where my friends and I would see who could drink the most coffee and we would stay there for hours telling stories and laughing so hard our stomachs ached. Then there's the summers filled with tennis and ultimate frisbee. Frisbee was my favorite sport to play there. Nothing beats running barefoot with the green grass under your feet. One time it was 98 degrees and so humid we all could barley breathe when all of the sudden it started pouring down rain. A once organized frisbee tournament turned into a mudslide. It was beautiful. I also loved the bonfires we would have after the sun would set. We would watch the stars and a lot of my friends were musically gifted so at one point in the night, they'd all whip out their guitars and we'd all sing and sing. That was my favorite part. At one of those bonfires, we threw an old and dead Christmas tree in the fire. I still laugh when I think about that today. There was a lake very close to my neighborhood. It was a refreshing place to hangout on a hot day. I went there once with a dear girlfriend of mine and we went swimming and walked all over the place with our summer hats on, cameras in one hand and a bottle of coke in the other. We walked by the water, through the neighborhood surrounding the lake, and we walked to the closest town. I've never loved walking as much as I did that day. We had the lake close by, but even closer by was the creek that went through the nature trail in my neighborhood. I used to take my dog here a lot. It was a beautiful place to let her play in the water while I pondered life.

My mind goes back tot he lake. Such a perfect place for kids to spend their summers. I think about all the summers teenagers must have enjoyed there and am reminded of the history of the lake. It is a man made lake that was created by building a dam in the nearby Etowah river in 1946. When the dam was built, the whole town of Allatoona got washed away. While it was originally constructed to help with flood control by the Flood Control acts of 1941, it now is a serene place to spend hot summer days.

A lot of my most cherished memories come from my last summer there. I think that's because I chose to live life to the fullest that summer. I wanted to embrace everything and live as much as possible with everyone who would join me. I realize now that the things I love most about summer are being barefoot outside, and spending time with people you care about. That's all you really need in life. That's what Georgia taught me during that summer.

Georgia will always have my heart. Although I am only nineteen and have a lot of life to live, Lord willing and a lot of memories to make, I will never forget where I grew up. I will carry those memories with me forever. That state and my home there are important to me now because they remind me of my story and how I became me. Georgia is part of me. I did not leave myself behind when I moved, I merely opened a new chapter in my life and kept going. If I hadn't have lived there, I wouldn't have the experiences I carry with me now. If I didn't have those, I wouldn't be who am today. I believe it is important to remember the past and be reminded of the lessons learned and the favorite moments. I cannot go to this place very easily anymore. It used to be a place I lived and now it's a fourteen hour drive. That isn't impossible, this I know. I plan on going back this summer. I do love road trips.

I have been warned that when I do go back to visit, to expect change. My dear friend Star and I had a phone date recently and she said, "Everything will look different to you. There's a new by-pass so we don't take our favorite back road anymore, lots of people have moved away to college, and it's almost as if the atmosphere itself has changed". When my good friend Jacob came to visit, he told me about my old house. He said "Morgan. We can't even drive by your house anymore. It just looks so different. There's a new family there. They don't take care of the yard the way you dad did. They never go outside. They aren't you guys". Change can be scary, but it's better to embrace it than to be sad about it.

I want to go back and visit my old home because I know that in the midst of change, there will be familiarity. Maybe it will hit me the moment I lay down in my old back yard that some things are still the same. Just maybe it will be in that grass that only Georgia seems to have, that I finally am able to move forward.  I already know there's something special about my old yard. It is the "Sport Grass of the South" after all. That grass was like heaven to the feet. I think it was so special because it was the kind of grass sometimes found on a golf course. "Extra cozy", as my mom would say. Regardless of the Bermuda grass,





research ideas:
-talk to friends about things that have changed since i moved (star, jacob, emily)
-something small from the narrative to expand on (like a window or something)

hometown memories to tie into essay:
-late night trips to waho
-tennis courts & ultimate frisbee
-bonfires at calebs
-lake allatoona trips
-the creek with friends
-street kids (log cabin, woods...together)

 grass...

 http://golftips.golfsmith.com/types-golf-course-grass-2482.html

 http://aggie-horticulture.tamu.edu/archives/parsons/turf/publications/bermuda.html

lake...
http://www.lakeallatoonaassoc.com/history_of_lake_allatoona

Crayon

I would be that one blue that looks like the ocean. I can't remember what it's called. It's always been my favorite one. When my brother and I were little, we used to see who could find it first in a new pack and whoever did would claim it for the rest of it's crayon life. It is a trick color because it's always different than it looks. It's a stunning teal, but the crayon itself looks like a dark gray-blue. It always made me feel giddy as a child because it's the magical crayon. The color is perfect for the ocean. It looks like the gorgeous Caribbean. This crayon reminds me of my favorite beach. If I dropped the crayon in the water there, I would never be able to find it. The waters there are the kind of blue that are so perfect and stunning, you wonder if the sea in front of you is real. Just like the color is a little tricky to find, this beach is a little tricky. In order to get there, you have to hike up the mountain and down to the beach. From there, you swim through some caves to get around to the other side of the beach where this incredible place is. I love it so much because it's secluded, the waves are lovely, the water is clear, the fish are plenty, and it is just plain stunning. I've only been to this beach once. It was during a cruise almost 5 years ago, but to this day it remains unbeatable and I plan to go back one day.

Point of View - Gabe's first day on the job

Today is Gabe's first day on the job. Ugh. Part of me is genuinely excited about this and part of me is dreading it. I'm excited because I won't have to drag him along anymore, but not excited because something is bound to go wrong. Everyone loves Gabe. He means well and he's a lot of fun to be arou-oh gosh, there he goes. Almost got hit by a car! C'mon Gabe.Yep, he's on his way to the bench. Just flashed me the signal. Alright. Good job boy, looking casual..oh my, you're not Tarzan, Gabe. Watch out for the trees. You know they're aren't very many on the sidewalk. Okay there we go, he's at the bench. Phew. Mmm I can smell that bagel shop from a where I'm standing. Do an old man a favor and bring him some bagels, why don't cha? I can almost taste them now. Nope! The wife said to stick to my diet or else I'll have to make supper. I shudder. Anywho, Gabe is a real fun guy to be around. He makes us all laugh in the office and he works hard. He's always wanted to be out in the fiel-Gabe! There's a pigeon. It's attacking him! Atta boy, give him the bagel. Actually, show him who's boss! That nasty bird can go find a bagel somewhere else. I cover my eyes for this one. The bird is actually attacking him. I stifle a laugh. Oh Gabe. Hopefully this is the worst thing that happens to you today. Uh..what! Oh no! How did that happen! I look away for two seconds and the bird is inside the briefcase! Get him out, get him out! I can't believe what I'm seeing. The bird is actually pushing the buttons and flying the suitcase around and firing. The bird is firing! This is chaos! C'mon Gabey! Think of something! There you go! The bagel! Brilliant! Alright coast is clear. Let's carry on now. Oh my gosh. Did I just see what I think I saw? The bagel set off the rocket! Are you kidding me?! There's no hope. We're all gonna die. Because of a bird and a bagel. Go big or go home, right? That's what my kids tell me. At least the kid got a day out on the field like he wanted. Too bad he'll have to work behind a desk for the rest of his life. I'm probably gonna get fired. We're all gonna get fired. Wait! He's flying the briefcase to stop the rocket! Gabe what are you thinking? Why is that darned bird still after him? Someone shoot that thing before it takes over the world! Ah dangit, my eyes must be giving out on me. Time for the binoculars. I fumble for them until my hands grasp that old familiar feel of cold metal...oops that's my gun. Got 'em! Okay I see him! He's gonna make it! Way to go Gabe! You're gonna be the hero today after all! I'm so proud. Wait a second...what the heck! That stupid bird is getting in the way again! Where's that bagel Gabe?! Ahhh there you go. Phew. Bird is busy chasing the bagel. Good call Gabe. You did it, you stopped the rocket. Come on down now. That sure is a long ways up. There we go. Safe and sound. The ground is a much more comfortable place to be. I still think someone should shoot that daggum bird. That's right boy, put those snazzy glasses on and walk away like nothing happened. Looking good. Well done. Oh! The rocket! Gabe watch out! Oh phew. It just landed on the bird. Aha! Pigeon anyone?

Kirsche

Kirsche is an ingredient in my Nan's crepes. It is cherry brandy. Eau-de-vie is a French term for brandy, it means water of life. Since my Nan is french, I think that's appropriate.

Sunrise

 

This picture takes me back to two places at a first glace. The first place I go back to is a the summer a group of my closest friends got to go to the beach and stay in a condo together. It was perfect. There were six of us and it was the summer of sixteen. We got to go out to the beach every day and swim, tan, and talk. Even though there was some silly girl drama, it was a really incredible trip that made us all a lot closer and we carry those memories with us to this day. My absolute favorite part of the trip was when we decided to pull an all-nighter on our last night so we could be up for the sunrise. We walked on the beach that night and looked for shooting stars as we talked about our future. We ate mangos and put our feet in the water as we waited for the sun to wake up. It was the most beautiful sunrise I've ever seen. There's just something about a sunrise over the ocean and the way it reflects on the water is breath taking. I will never forget that morning. The other sunrise the picture above brings to mind it the one from last summer at camp. It was a similar story. I went to camp with one of my closest friends, Joanna. She was actually at the other sunrise with me which is really special. But yeah. We waited until our last night there and decided to pull an all-nighter along with like 700 other high-school students. It was crazy fun. The night started off with swing-dancing in the hotel ballroom in our pajamas, then one of the condo rooms was hosting a pancake party so about 90 kids crammed into one condo until the hotel patrol showed up, and then we played games on the beach. There were groups of kids singing and playing guitar everywhere. It was incredible. Some people set up hammocks while we waited for the sun to come up. When it did, it was the most incredible thing I've ever seen. 

Sunday Morning

It's getting late. Time to decide what tomorrow holds. Sunday mornings have been very rushed lately. I decide tomorrow will be different. Breakfast is usually the first thing that happens in the morning so maybe I should start with that. My favorite breakfast food goes way back to when I was little. Countless times I sat in my Nan's kitchen and watched her make me crepes. My brother called them crappers because he didn't like them until he got older. I loved watching her make them. She would tell me every time that she had a secret recipe passed on to her by her grandmother when they lived in Belgium. They are traditional and delicious. They carry with them heritage. I remember wanting to help my Nan make them. She would let me. We would get out my special stool and I would stand on it with a huge smile across my face. She would steady my hands as I scraped the extra flour out of the measuring cup and hold the bowl for me so I could stir without it wobbling. She would even let me put the secret ingredient in. After I put the butter in the pan and twisted t it around, making the pan sizzle is my favorite part. Pouring the batter in was easy, but flipping the crepes and keeping them in their perfect thin, golden, and round loveliness was the hard part. I would make these for breakfast every time I went to visit her. When we moved away I slowly forgot about the crepes until one day I had friends over and we were going to have pancakes, but were out of batter. I made them crapes just like I did with my Nan.

All that reminiscing convinced me to make them again. It's been a while. Mmmm Nan's crepes. I have to remind myself before I go to sleep that I need to make the batter so it can sit overnight. I tiptoe down to the kitchen and put all the ingredients together. My only light source is from the pantry. I do not always make them this peculiar way, don't worry. It just so happens that I want to surprise my family in the morning by cooking them breakfast. That will make tomorrow special by throwing off the usual morning routine. All of us Hamiltons love crepes, but I am the only one who makes them because I am the only one who has the secret recipe. So with the pantry light and a little assistance from the moonlight, I mix the batter up. I hum to myself as I add in the bowl of flour, sugar, and salt to the other bowl of eggs, milk, and butter. I mix all that up and keep humming away. I don't even know what the name of the song is that I'm humming. I'm just happy and enjoying myself. I reach for the secret ingredient. Of course I'm not tall enough. I have to stand on top of the chair to get it. I knew that. I guess I thought maybe I grew a few feet since the last time I made these. I add the secret stuff and mix it in. They are done until morning. I sneak back upstairs with a new giddy-ness in my step.

In the morning, I wake up with the sun and repeat the familiar process of forming perfect golden-brown crepes. I enjoy the stillness of the morning along with the wonderful kitchen noises that we humans find so comforting like the sizzling noise the batter makes when it meets the butter, the triumphant sound of a plate hitting marble as it waits for the meal to be placed on it, and the gentle clamor of forks piled up on the wooden table. I have a wonderful idea. I smell the crepes as the stack becomes higher and higher and my stomach agrees that it's time to eat. I think back to when I was little and how badly I wanted to be able to flip them. I always told my Nan I'd be able to do that when I was all growed up. I slip three in a row with ease. Maybe I am all growed up. This thought is bitter-sweet, but reminds me that I want to teach my future grandchildren how to make these crepes too so they can strive to become expert flippers too. I start the coffee, I know the sound of the grinder starting and the smell of fresh coffee will wake my parents up. Sure enough the come in the kitchen sleepy-eyed but with smiles. Maybe I should make some bacon. That always works for my brother. Soon, we will all be enjoying a beautiful Sunday morning all thanks to my Nan's crepes.

Creating Crepes

Nan's crepes. I have to remind myself before I go to sleep that I need to make the batter so it can sit overnight. I tiptoe down to the kitchen and put all the ingredients together. My only light source is from the pantry. I do not always make them this peculiar way, don't worry. It just so happens that I want to surprise my family in the morning by cooking them breakfast. All of us Hamiltons love crepes, but I am the only one who makes them because I am the only one who has the secret recipe. So with the pantry light and a little assistance from the moonlight, I mix the batter up. I hum to myself as I add in the bowl of flour, sugar, and salt to the other bowl of eggs, milk, and butter. I mix all that up and keep humming away. I don't even know what the name of the song is that I'm humming. I'm just happy and enjoying myself. I reach for the secret ingredient. Of course I'm not tall enough. I have to stand on top of the chair to get it. I knew that. I guess I thought maybe I grew a few feet since the last time I made these. I add the secret stuff and mix it in. They are done until morning. I sneak back upstairs.

Prompts

I will never, if possible, let the can of whip cream explode at work again. While this caused lots of laughter, it caused more of a mess. Little did I know that there was a certain way to wash the old whip cream can. You have to slowly let all the air out, that I knew. I did not know however, that if you didn't make sure every bit of air was out that whatever whip cream was still in there would explode all over the place. I shot whip cream all over a 8 foot radius and all over myself. After the screams, people naturally laughed at the situation and then some of them helped me wipe up the explosion. It was all over the place. A week later I was still finding random sprays of whip cream. I will never do that again. That's a light note of something that I will never do again. I can't think of something else. Oh. I've decided that I never want to sleep in all day again. I don't really sleep all day, but when I decide to sleep in and have nothing going on that day I tend to stay in my bed as long as I can possibly keep myself there. I think the last time I did this I was in bed until 1:45. That's so much of the day wasted! Yes, sleep is important but embracing the day is more important. Plus, it usually makes you more tired and lazy when you sleep all day like that then it does when you wake up early and get going. I want to see more sunrises than anything this year. So I will never sleep until 2 again.
Those two things are still on the lighter side compared to some deeper, more personal things I could talk about. Like how I will never date someone just to date them again. but we won't go into that 'cause we're out of time. Lucky me.

She has hair that shines like the sun. Not only does her hair shine, but her stunning blue eyes do and so does her bubbly and outgoing personality. Some would say she's a southern belle. I'd say she fits that stereotype. Some crack jokes at her, but the ironic thing about that is she's top in our class so she just laughs along. This girl is my little sister. We're twins, but we look opposite in pretty much every way. My hair is as black as a raven, I have green eyes, and I am the quiet one. I love my sister and I love our differences.

I watched as the little munchkin stomped off, stopped dead in his tracks, and inhaled heavily. I knew it was coming. The deafening scream of youngin that didn't get his way is something every single human beaing dreads. I waited. Three, two, one....there it was. Worse than nails on a chalk board. I continued to observe his temper tantrum. Some kids thrash around on the ground, kicking their legs and flailing their arms, but not this one. He just stood there. Eyes staring dead straight at his mom and screamed. And screamed. And screamed. It was almost comical, but at the same time terrifying.

I get in my car and start my drive home. I can't think of what kind of music to play because I can't figure out what mood I'm in or what mood I want to be in. I feel numb. So I roll the windows down thinking the fresh air will help get me out of my own head for a bit. Instead, I get irritated with every single piece of stray hair that is flying around. So I roll the windows back up. What is bothering me so much. What is making me feel this way. I can't figure it out. Usually on my drive home I blast my music and sing at the top of my lungs. I usually have the windows down and it doesn't matter what I'm listening to. Today is not one of those days. Today I am not happy.

Crepes

My favorite breakfast food goes way back to when I was little. Countless times I sat in my Nan's kitchen and watched her make me crepes. My brother called them crappers because he didn't like them until he got older. I loved watching her make them. She would tell me every time that she had a secret recipe passed on to her by her grandmother when they lived in Belgium. They are traditional and delicious. They carry with them heritage. I remember wanting to help my Nan make them. She would let me. We would get out my special stool and I would stand on it with a huge smile across my face. She would steady my hands as I scraped the extra flour out of the measuring cup and hold the bowl for me so I could stir without it wobbling. She would even let me put the secret ingredient in. After I put the butter in the pan and twisted t it around, making the pan sizzle is my favorite part. Pouring the batter in was easy, but flipping the crepes and keeping them in their perfect thin, golden, and round lovliness was the hard part. I would make these for breakfast every time I went to visit her. When we moved away I slowly forgot about the crapes until one day I had friends over and we were going to have pancakes, but were out of batter. I made them crapes just like I did with my Nan.

Sight

I am walking barefoot up a familiar street when I come to a sudden stop at mailbox 62, which is directly across from 43. I had to stop there because seeing that house again causes the floodgates to open and all the memories come rushing so fast all I can do is stop in my tracks and reminisce. So I sit down and stare at the house before me, trying to remember all the little things. I close my eyes and see my room and the walls. The walls are special because they're covered in letters, decorated envelopes, lyrics, inside jokes, and signatures. My life was written on four walls. I see the rest of my room and focus on my bed. Memories of my friends and I having late night talks there start to blur together. I change my gaze to my door, which is open so my eyes are drawn to the afternoon sun shining through the living room. So many things come to mind when I see that room. I remember all the game nights with family over the holidays, summer parties full of silliness inside to avoid the heat outside, and I remember holding my nieces when they were newborns on the couch right where the sun shines the brightest through the window.  I look out the window now and see the time when it wasn't so sunny. When the storm was so bad the trees were bending to the ground and the rain was hitting the window so hard and with so much water that it looked like a watercolor painting. This makes me look out the other window above the sink in the kitchen. I remember staring out that window and admiring my mother's beautiful flowers on the porch. It was almost like a greenhouse and I loved it so. I look past the flowers and see the yard where we had water-balloon fights, played hide-n-seek in the dark, and star-gazed. I snap back to reality here. Maybe the new owners of my house won't mind if I walk around the back. I decided to do it and on the way I peeked in the porch window. No one was home. So I lay down on the grass and stare into the sky, smiling.

Elements

Georgia. I want to go back to Georgia and visit my old home. Georgia is important to me because it's where I grew up. I never expected to leave that state. I want to go back and see my old friends. I want to drive through my old neighborhood and if I'm brave enough, sit across the street from the house that I grew up in and reminisce. I left so much behind when I moved and this sometimes scares me away from traveling back to visit, but I don't want to forget my life there either. The most important thing to me about Georgia are the people I left behind. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I miss my friends.

My old house. I close my eyes and my favorite memories in that house flood in. I see my room where all my friends and I would hangout. I see my walls filled with pictures and letters. I see my wall where I let everyone write on. It's filled with lyrics, inside jokes, and names of people that I took for granted. I see the catwalk outside of my room that overlooks the living room. I picture all the parties we had and remember how it was always filled with people. I see the window that so many birds flew into. The prettiest window in the house. I recall staring out of it all the time watching the sun and the rain.

I hear laughter from my family at the dinner table. I hear the crickets outside in the creek across the golf course. I hear all the tennis players as their voices echo through the neighborhood on a warm summer night. I hear my neighbors splashing and having a good time in their pool. I hear my old dog, Samson kicking his legs as he dreams about chasing rabbits. I hear my parents watching a movie while I try and listen in to figure out which one it is. I hear my brother and his friends playing ping-pong in the basement. I hear the quiet at the middle of the night.

I remember the feel of the carpet in my bedroom. It was the best kind of carpet. Full and comfy enough to lay on. It was the kind you could draw in because the fibers were so long. I feel the cold of the hardwood floors on my feet in the morning. I feel the driveway and the grass soothe my bare-feet on the way to let my dog out. I remember laying in the yard on summer night and staring up at the sky. I feel the grass and the dew starting to spread.

I smell rain. I smell the it in the most refreshing and calming way. Rain is beautiful like that. I inhale heavily as it pours and pours. I smell mom cooking something with sausage in it. I smell my brother as he walks by my room. I can smell him because he bathed in Axe. I smell the cleanliness of my room. It smells fresh with a little bit of flower.

I taste lemonade on the back porch with all my friends. I taste wine in the kitchen, that was my first time tasting it. I taste champagne at the table on Christmas Eve with my sister. I taste water as it brings me life on the tennis courts. I taste the chlorine in the neighborhood pool. I taste soda at my brother's birthday party. I taste a water balloon as it hits my face and bursts.

I would like to go back and gather all my friends for a road trip to the campground at the lake near our town. I cam picture it now. We all pile into my car, with my dog of course and head to a campground. We get there, set up camp and start exploring before dark. We go swimming in the lake and have a BBQ. It starts getting dark, so we sit around the campfire and sing songs while my brother and his friends play the guitar. We tell stories and laugh. We stay up late and sleep in until we feel the sun through our tents and hammocks.

Description

I see lizards. Maybe they belong to a little boy. They are placed on top of a colorful blanket that reminds me of Mexico. So maybe the little boy whom these lizards belong to are toys placed on a table at a fiesta. There is a blue feather in the middle of the lizards and it's got polka-dots on it. It doesn't look like it belongs to a real bird, so maybe it came off a decoration or a pinata. The little boy that placed the three lizards and the feather there so carefully must care a lot about them. He probably didn't want to leave them when his mom beckoned him to join in the evenings festivities, but he did anyways like any good boy would do. He's probably very eager to get back to playing with them and scaring all the girls with them. I look at the little lizards and am thankful that they aren't real because if they were, they'd most likely be very poisonous. Because aren't the most beautiful ones usually the most deadly? 

All the Words

(kinda goin stream-of-consciousness)

Today I feel a little knackered, I feel worn out to the extent of mental and physical exhaustion. All I want to do is sleep. I just want to take a break from the world, have no worries and relax. That's why I'm excited for Spring Break in a few days. I wish I was going to the beach so I could feel the bubbles from the foamy waves in-between my toes. I want to go to the ocean. I want to go swimming and lay in the sand under the sun. I'm so ready for the warm weather of summer, so ready to have fun and be carefree again. For now, I'll stare at my aquascape and daydream of summer. It's so beautiful and natural looking. My fish look so serene as they swim around. I worked really hard to make it look like home for them. I was just sitting here thinking that when I overheard some boys talking about back glass. I thought they were discussing stained-glass, but obviously they weren't. Ya'll know what that is? I didn't. Maybe I didn't know because I'm a girl and that's just a boy thing, but now I now that it is the area on the backside of the toilet that works as a silencer. That's cool I think sarcastically to myself as I wonder what I'll do with that new word in my vocabulary. Now I'm hungry. All I can think about right now is food. I just want pizza. Pizza is my favorite food. Nothing is better than pizza. Well, maybe salad...not. Pizza wins all things. Especially when all my friends jump in my car and we go get some together, watch movies, and hangout. Pizza is the food that is acceptable for all sorts of occasions. Think about it. They have crappy pizza, specialty pizza, and all the pizza in-between. You just can't go wrong. You know who loves pizza as much as me? My dogs. My dogs and my friend's dogs. I think every dog I know loves pizza. My dog goes everywhere with me. I was happy to meet someone today that brings his dog, Diesel everywhere with him too. I wish it was socially acceptable for people to bring their dogs everywhere. I mean everywhere. To the mall, movies, out to eat, work, etc. I guess if I brought my dog to work, people would think I was crazier than a pet coon, but I personally think a dog belongs in every coffee shop. Some would say "for sure" to that and some would beg to differ, but I'm bound and determined to bring her in and turn her into the mascot at work. I think my friend and Deisel would say "you bet", if I asked them to join me. Ooops. Now I'm thinking about food again. Someone is talking about Christmas and it made me think about all the delicious food I ate. I need to stop that. I need to stop thinking about food right now or else I might starve. I'll think about the other things that come along with Christmas like family time, happiness, love....and food. Wow, I'm so good at this but indubitably because I'll get lunch soon, it's all good. I am wanderlust, I have a constant desire to travel. I want to go everywhere and see everything. Right now. I'm ready to go climb mountains and dive into the ocean. I'm ready for adventure, I'm ready to find myself surrounded by beauty. Today I dyed my hair purple. Some people were like "Wow, you're crazy for sure" and "Oh come on, are you serious?" and others loved it. I think it's whimsical, that it is playful and definitely not lacking in character. It makes me happy because it's colorful, bright, and full of life. While I believe in being bold with hair colors and such, I also believe in simplicity. I believe in being content with the minimal and finding beauty in the little and simple things in life. You've gotta look at life with a fungo point of view, you've gotta do things that make you happy. Life is like butter. Not actual butter, but the color. It's smooth, warm, and soft. Life can also make you hard, but look at the beautiful buttery parts of life and remind yourself daily that life is good. You might think I'm a bit off, a bit wonky. But I'll tell you what, wonky people make me smile because they aren't afraid to be themselves. Be a bit wonky today.

The Man with Many Traits (revised)

I saw an ELDERLY person today at school that had CURLY, BLUE HAIR with long SIDEBURNS. He has very SKINNY legs and a CHUBBY belly. He was TALL, but his torso was quite SHORT. He was mostly legs. Oh, and belly. Along with his blue hair, he had a matching blue BEARD. His beard had a little big of GREY hair poking through, but it still looked confident with his blue hair. This old man was pretty hip and OUTGOING because he had GAUGES. He looked pretty RELAXED as he say among the NERDY kids and played video games. Even though he was relaxed, he looked FOCUSED on winning. I think he was relaxed because he knew he would win, which made him seem INTIMIDATING and maybe a little ARROGANT to the kids who were surprised that this old man had some techy skills. After he beat all the kids, he put some headphones in and became DISENGAGED as he picked up a philosophy book, put on his GLASSES and began to STUDIOUSLY read it.  

11 "to be" words  up there^

REVISION:
Today at school, my math class got cancelled (thank goodness), so I decided to kill time until my next class by people-watching in the commons. An older man with an abundant amount of wavy locks that resembled some sort of white-guy afro caught my eye.  He stood out not only because of his luscious hair, but because it was dyed a vibrant aquamarine. In addition to the fro, he had extensive cheek hair that flowed from his fro and accumulated into a proud woodsman-like beard. The beard was a little more natural looking and somehow suited him with it's grey hairs blending in with the aqua ones. His hair revealed his high self-esteem and was pleasing to the eyes because it seemed genuine and to reflect his cheerfulness even though it was a little wild. This man was quite lanky in appearance... until he turned sideways and his wee bit of a beer-belly was revealed. I watched as he ducked under the cafeteria doorway because all 7 feet of him wouldn't have made it though. He was a tower, mostly made up of legs. His torso was oddly disproportional, lacking in length. Despite his age, he kept up to date with the times through his style. Clearly he was brave and not afraid to make a statement as he strutted his hipster self around campus with gauged ears, a plaid button up (which was even rolled up at the sleeves), and skinny jeans. He seemed to have a pretty easy-going attitude while he sat among the nerdy kids. He easily participated in scientific and mathematical conversation, hacked a computer faster than thought humanly possible, and even joined a group of kids in a Pokemon card game which was then followed by a video game challenge that seemed to demand all of his attention. I under-estimated this man from my first glance. Apparently so did the kids who were hanging out with him. Considering him a joke at first, they now walk stare in admiration as they walk away a little terrified because of his surprising skill set. After he showed off, the old man made his way to a chair by the window, put on his classy spectacles, and fully diverted his attention to soaking up every word of his marine biology book. As I walked away I thought about what a cool grandpa this guy would be.

The Man with Many Traits

I saw an ELDERLY person today at school that had CURLY, BLUE HAIR with long SIDEBURNS. He has very SKINNY legs and a CHUBBY belly. He had was TALL, but his torso was quite SHORT. He was mostly legs. Oh, and belly. Along with his blue hair, he had a matching blue BEARD. His beard had a little big of GREY hair poking through, but it still looked confident with his blue hair. This old man was pretty hip and OUTGOING because he had GAUGES. He looked pretty RELAXED as he say among the NERDY kids and played video games. Even though he was relaxed, he looked FOCUSED on winning. I think he was relaxed because he knew he would win, which made him seem INTIMIDATING and maybe a little ARROGANT to the kids who were surprised that this old man had some techy skills. After he beat all the kids, he put some headphones in and became DISENGAGED as he picked up a philosophy book, put on his GLASSES and began to STUDIOUSLY read it. 

Spreading Love (latest edit)

I believe in spreading sincere love. What I mean by this is looking for opportunities to love people in any way, shape, and form possible. It is sincere because it comes from the heart, an honest action with no intent other than to selflessly, fearlessly, and freely love by pouring into someone's life. I believe in spreading love because the moments others have taken time to spread love to me have been the most influential and cherished moments in my life. In little ways and in big ways, love is contagious and once you've experienced it, you want to share it with someone else.

There are some things I try and remind myself throughout the day that keep me inspired to love. I remind myself to smile sincerely. These are things that are important to me because they are things that others have done in my life. Love really is contagious and I believe it can spread like a wildfire. It stems from the heart and grows into beautiful displays of love, which plant a seed in another's heart. 

A smile means a lot when it is a true smile that is comforting, inviting and warm. A smile can encourage and lift a person's spirits. Ever since I was a little girl, smiles have warmed my heart. I often was too shy to smile at people, but it made me so happy when other people would smile at me. I began to look for smiles and learned to smile back and eventually learned to be the smile initiator. 

Something else I often remind myself is to be open to strangers. Get to know the people that work at your favorite place or the regulars that come to where you work. All friends were strangers once. Speaking from the perspective of someone who works at a coffee shop and sees all kinds of people all day, I can honestly say that getting to know the regulars has been one of my greatest joys. Rather than looking at customers as just another person to ring up, get to know them and they will become your friends. Not only do I get to be real with customers, but they get to come to a shop where the person in front of the cash register actually knows their name and is excited to see them. It's a win-win. 

Another thing I try and put into practice is encouragement. A little text, a letter, a phone call to remind someone you care. Lastly, I try to be aware of what's going on in the lives of those who surround me and I want to be there for them through the good and the bad. I want to have deep conversations with people to truly get to know them beyond their appearance and beyond the things they keep hidden from the world. When I think of someone, I try and let them know. For example, the other day I found a picture of my friend and I at the lake from last summer before I moved across the United States. I sent her a text that basically told her how much I missed her and how thankful I was for the part she played in my life while I was there. I also told her I was thinking about her and hoped she was having a great week. She replied later that night saying that my message had encouraged her so much and brightened her day. You see, you never know. 

These are all ways to spread love, but love is not limited to these things.

Stories and moments to maybe use as examples: 

My teachers pouring into my life Senior year when everything went wrong. 

Brittany being my role-model when my own sister couldn't be a good example for my life. 

The note from Kiersten. 

When I'm at work and a customer asks how I'm doing before I can as how they're doing or when they smile. 

When my co-workers care.

When my neighbors took time to get to know me.

Spreading Love (beginning the essay)

I believe in spreading sincere love. What I mean by this is looking for opportunities to love people in any way, shape, and form possible. It is sincere because it comes from the heart, an honest action with no intent other than to selflessly, fearlessly, and freely love by pouring into someone's life. I believe in spreading love because the moments others have taken time to spread love to me have been the most influential and cherished moments in my life. In little ways and in big ways, love is contagious and once you've experienced it, you want to share it with someone else.

There are some things I try and remind myself throughout the day that keep me inspired to love. I remind myself to smile sincerely. These are things that are important to me because they are things that others have done in my life. Love really is contagious and I believe it can spread like a wildfire. 

A smile means a lot when it is a true smile that is comforting, inviting and warm. A smile can encourage and lift a person's spirits. Ever since I was a little girl, smiles have warmed my heart. I often was too shy to smile at people, but it made me so happy when other people would smile at me. I began to look for smiles and learned to smile back and eventually learned to be the smile initiator. 

Another thing I remind myself is to be open to strangers. Get to know the people that work at your favorite place or the regulars that come to where you work. All friends were strangers once. 

Another thing I try and put into practice is encouragement. A little text, a letter, a phone call to remind someone you care. Lastly, I try to be aware of what's going on in the lives of those who surround me and I want to be there for them through the good and the bad. I want to have deep conversations with people to truly get to know them beyond their appearance and beyond the things they keep hidden from the world.

These are all ways to spread love, but love is not limited to these things.

Stories and moments to maybe use as examples: 
My teachers pouring into my life Senior year when everything went wrong. 
Brittany being my role-model when my own sister couldn't be a good example for my life. 
The note from Kiersten. 
When I'm at work and a customer asks how I'm doing before I can as how they're doing or when they smile. 
When my co-workers care.
When my neighbors took time to get to know me.
 

Credo (edit before essay)

I believe in spreading sincere love. What I mean by this is looking for opportunities to love people in any way, shape, and form possible. It is sincere because it comes from the heart, an honest action with no intent other than to selflessly, fearlessly, and freely love by pouring into someone's life. 

I believe in spreading love because the moments others have taken time to spread love to me have been the most influential and cherished moments in my life. 

I believe in smiling. A smile means a lot. A smile can encourage and lift a person's spirits. 

I believe in strangers. Get to know the people that work at your favorite coffee shop or get to know the regulars that come to where you work. All friends were strangers once. 

I believe in notes. A little text, a letter, a phone call to remind someone you care. I believe those are all ways to spread love. Love is not limited to these things.

Naked Chocolate (or not so naked)

Chocolate. Chocolate is a wonderful thing. I had a friend who didn't like chocolate and I never understood that. I had a dog that liked chocolate a little too much and I did understand that. I actually had two dogs that liked chocolate a little two much. The first one was our first family dog. He was the best dog ever. No dog will ever compare to him. His name was Samson and he was a stunning white German Shepherd. When he was a puppy, he snuck into my parent's closet and discovered my mom's Godiva chocolate stash. He ate the entire pile of it. He was okay after a massive stomach ache and he didn't ever go looking for that stash again. Now we have a little Daushound named Charlie and last summer that little sneak ate a whole roll of Oreos. He didn't learn his lesson though because a few nights ago he stole my chocolate muffin and downed the whole thing. My dog (my child, I should say), Gidget, is an Australian Shepherd who loves chocolate as well. While I was studying last night, I was rewarding myself with M&Ms and she wanted one so badly she did all her tricks in a row. So I gave her one. That was probably a mistake, but I couldn't resist her little begging eyes. I'm a sucker for my dog. I don't know what I'd do with out her, to be honest. She is my best friend. She really is. It breaks my heart to leave her at home for work, school, etc. because she sits at the door and cries. It's the best feeling ever to get home though, because she's always waiting for me and she attacks me with kisses and love when I walk in the door. I know when I get home today that she'll be there, waiting for me to play with her in the snow. I love everything about my dog. I love her flaws because they make me laugh and I love how hard she tires to please me and how loyal she is. I love observing her reactions to things and training her. She is very quick and enjoys learning new tricks. Nothing compares to the love of a dog or loving a dog. Just don't let them get into your chocolate.

Toilet Paper Roll

Two things come to mind when I look at this toilet paper roll. The first is that my hedgehog likes to play inside them and the other is that one time my mom's friend gave her a painted one for her birthday and they played a silly game with it. Both are good memories that make me smile. My hedgehog is still a baby. He's kinda grumpy (hence the nocturnal-ness), but when he's awake, he is very playful and curious. One time he got stuck in the toilet paper roll I put in his house and I heard a banging noise. I was worried so I ran over to his house and he was walking around banging into things because the roll was stuck on his head and he couldn't see. Half of me wanted to rescue him and to be honest, the other half of me wanted to leave it on him because it was so funny and quite adorable. My mom and her friend were funny to watch too and believe it or not, there was no drinking involved in this game. They simply looked through the painted toilet paper roll like a telescope at each other and died laughing because of how ridiculous it was. I feel like maybe I don't talk about serious things enough and that all the stories I've written about so far are kinda silly, but hey, everyone likes to read a silly story. I don't know what else to write about. I'm working on trying to kill the editor but I'm still hitting backspace a lot more than I should be. I'm not even using really big words, I'm just making silly mistakes. That happens a lot. Especially in the morning. Especially on a snow day when I don't particularly want to be at school. This morning was a struggle. I kept hitting snooze and checking my phone in hopes that school would be cancelled for the day. Turns out it wasn't. So I'm here. Writing about whatever comes to my mind. Annnnnd I don't know what to write about so I'm blabbering. Blogs are weird because sometimes you want to have a voice and sometimes you'd rather people didn't know your thoughts. Today is one of those days because I don't feel like my blog is really saying anything. So maybe I should say something in case someone decides to read this. By now they probably think I'm crazy. Crazy people are always interesting though, aren't they? Well, I really enjoy my health class. It's made me want to work on a lot of things and grow. So That's my important thought for the day.

Credo

I believe in spreading sincere love. 

What I mean by this is looking for opportunities to love people in any way, shape, and form possible. It is sincere because it comes from the heart, an honest action with no intent other than to selflessly, fearlessly, and freely love by pouring into someone's life. 

I believe in this first of all because Jesus loved me and laid down His life for me. In response to His love, I want to love others. Secondly, I believe in spreading love because the moments others have taken time to spread love to me have been the most influential and cherished moments in my life. 

I believe in smiling. A smile means a lot. A smile can encourage and lift a person's spirits. 

I believe in strangers. Get to know the people that work at your favorite coffee shop or get to know the regulars that come to where you work. All friends were strangers once. 

I believe in notes. A little text, a letter, a phone call to remind someone you care.  

I believe those are all ways to spread love. 

In Response to Mrs.A's "This I Believe"

I relate to believing in the power of stuff. The right stuff. I hate having too much stuff. I hate clutter. I'm a little OCD and a little on the neat-freak side. Well, okay my whole room is usually sparkling and my clothes are color-coordinated. Maybe I'm a lot on the neat-freak side. Just as much as I hate clutter, I hate it when I feel like I have to keep up with society by buying certain things to impress certain people. Sometimes I even hate how much I spend on myself. I return things I buy for myself a lot because I often feel like I am being too materialistic. When it comes to getting other people gifts, however, I will spend a significant amount of time thinking about and researching the perfect gift for that person. And usually, I get them more than one thing. I love giving gifts that mean something. I will spend twice the amount of money to get the perfect gift rather than getting something I think they might like. I am a gift giver and I love getting gifts. I love it when someone puts time into getting me something. It doesn't even have to be a nice gift, it could be a stick with a bow on it that represented an inside joke and I'd be ecstatic and keep it forever. I'd probably even frame it. That to me, is the power of the right stuff.

This Summer

If everything works out I'd love to be traveling all summer. For the first time, I've set up goals and started working on them that way all these things I've wanted to do seem more realistic and reachable. I've never gotten to this point. Usually I get discouraged and talk myself out of these incredible experiences. I'm ready to live now. I'm ready for life to begin and I'm ready to go on a journey of discovery and adventure. I want to grow more in my faith and get out of this cycle I'm stuck in with daily life and stupid goals society has pressed upon me. I want to learn more about myself and step out for Jesus. There are three trips I'm working on for this summer. One of them is a mission trip to Africa. I've never been on a mission trip before. Another is a trip to backpack around Europe. My dear friend Kelli and I are researching that right now. And the last is a road trip to my hometown in Georgia. That trip also involves beach camping and staffing a summer camp in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

What if...

It snowed again.
Trees were blue.
It rained cats and dogs.
We couldn't see colors.
Everyone looked the same.
We could fly.
Unicorns were real.
Narwhals were in warm waters.
Our pets could talk.
We got married younger.
There was no such thing as school.
No one had cell phones.
Everyone liked to read.
Clouds were actually soft and you could jump on them.
We lived in outerspace.
We lived in the ocean.
We lived in the trees.
Our dreams at night came true.

What if we lived in the trees? We could all live in tree houses and sleep in hammocks way up in the trees on warm summer nights. We could build tree villages with bridges connecting them. I don't know how we would get our pets up there but maybe there could be some sort of elevator inside the tree trunk, that way the elderly, infants, and animals could get up. This would be a difficult life for people who are afraid of heights, but I guess that fear wouldn't exist because if we all started out in the trees, no one would know any different. We would all basically live like Trazan and Jane. Maybe we would have monkey friends. I'm sure we would have lot of birds and squirrels to keep us company. Of course we could still go down and adventure on the ground and swim in waters. Eventually cars and grocery stores would be built so people could get from one tree village to another and go to the grocery store. Maybe we just wouldn't have stoves or ovens because that seems like it'd be a fire hazard. Maybe our kitchens could be inside the trees too and somehow made to be safe for cooking in. I'm sure with our technology we could figure that out. You know what trees would be perfect to live in? The Red Woods in Canada. They are so big that we could make our homes in the trunks rather than tree houses on the branches. Maybe there would be different kinds of villages, ones inside the trees and ones on the branches. I wonder if the whole world could live in the trees. Probably not because a lot of places don't have trees in their terrain. So the idea I'd like to submit to the world is maybe not necessarily what if we all lived in tree houses, but what if we didn't live in houses and neighborhoods like we do now. We could live in trees, underground, underwater, or even in space.

What if our dreams at night came true? We all have those incredible and inspiring dreams that we wish were reality when we wake up from them. Imagine if when we woke up, our world was changed to that dream. And each time we dream, our reality shifts to the time and place of the dream. Nightmares would be the exception. They would not be reality. I'm making that up because I for one, do not want to experience any of my nightmares over again, much less live in one. However, I've had some really amazing dreams that I'd re-live in a heartbeat. So what if we still had reality, but we could teleport into our dreams after we've had them and live them out for a little while until we got our fill or wanted to return to reality. Hopefully we'd never lose sight of our dreams and reality by switching in and out of them. Or what if the good dreams we had just came true. That dream you had about getting that promotion and moving to Hawaii or maybe it was a dream about being pregnant and finally having a baby. One dream of mine for example that I wish had come true was a dream where I got a job traveling the world and doing photography. Another dream I had recently was that I got a horse. If either of those things happened, I'd be ecstatic.

What if everyone looked the same? Instead of being judged by our looks, people would be judged for who they are. People wouldn't waste so much time on their hair, their bodies, or their wardrobes. we wouldn't be able to look down on people for their size, weight, or style. Our world would be much less materialistic. We would get to know people beyond the surface and have no reason not to like them or judge them from afar. Society today is so caught up in looks that it blows my mind. I think a lot of us have become numb to this and even contributed to it. I wish we weren't immune to the way we treat people and that we made more of an effort to accept those who don't fit in according to society's standards. You might be the cool kid, but what if you weren't? We all know what it feels like to be an outcast in one way or another and why would we ever wish that upon someone else? I feel like if we were all the same, we would accept people for who they are and the world would be a much more loving, compassionate, and accepting place.

Fear

Fear. This makes me think of phobias and we talked about all different kinds of phobias in health the other day. Some of them were really silly like fear of gravity and fear of looking up. Those may seem silly, but everyone has phobias. I'm terrified of sharks, but I think they're the coolest things ever. I'm that person that will make sure there's other people surrounding me in the water so I'm the least likely to get eaten. I'm also the kid that sits at home for a week every summer in from of her TV and watches Shark Week by herself. Just thinking about getting in a cage with them freaks me out and I don't think I could ever do it, but it blows my mind when I watch other people do it on TV. I've had enough scary moments with sharks outside of the cage. One time we were snorkeling and a bull shark swam about ten feet underneath me and started circling. I froze and stopped breathing. While I was in fear of my life, I couldn't help thinking about how beautiful the shark was. It was pretty small and realistically, it probably wasn't going to hurt me. I always think the worst when I step into the ocean though. I always assume that I'm going to get eaten by a shark. Every time. The entire time I'm in the water that's in the back of my head playing over and over. My brain has stopped working now and I don't know what else I was going to say. Most likely another one of my shark stories, but the more I think about them, the sillier they seem. Explaining something that was terrifying for one person might not be terrifying to another person. I'm going to go ahead and tell another story though. One time my family was swimming and we hit a sand bar so we were playing catch and enjoying the sunshine. There were some noodle waves, but no big waves or anything. I call waves that don't break "noodle waves". But anywho, there was some seaweed and stuff in the noodle waves and then all of the sudden there was a shadow of a big fish. I knew instantly that it was a shark. My dad told me not to move, but knowing I was the closest to it and most likely to get eaten first, I ran (as fast as I could in water about chest high)and hid behind my dad. The shark headed straight for us and then apparently it decided we weren't worth his time because he turned back around and kept going down the horizon. 
...loopdeeedooo...
Finding beauty amidst fear. I wonder if that's what people feel like when they're about to die. They're scared, but maybe they're reflecting on some of the  beauties they experienced throughout life. I don't really want to talk about death or scary things anymore though. Maybe something a little bit happier. I would discuss the sunshine, but it's freezing cold and the sun is hiding from us today. Missouri weather is bipolar. I thought Georgia's weather was bad and then I moved here. For example, on Sunday it was so nice outside. Breathtakingly nice. I got off work and picked up my dog. We drove to the park with the windows down and sunglasses on. It was a perfect day. I guess the rest of Missouri thought so too because the park was full of people walking their dogs and also of people walking their children. My dog met lots of other dogs and I enjoyed people watching. We played frisbee and then set up my hammock and rested in the last bit of sunshine before the wind started up and the weather dropped. Well, the next day it was negative degrees when I woke up and it was like breathing in ice. It was terrible. And the last couple of days have been like that too. In Georgia it's really cold right now too. I'm happy for all my friends though because they're getting to enjoy some snow days. Some of them got stuck in their cars for up to 8 hours yesterday and others had to spend the night at school. That's pretty scary. There's also some humor to be found in those scary moments because Georgians are not used to this weather so they start doing crazing things like pour buckets of water on their driveways to create a sledding hill made of ice and others raid the grocery stores like the apocalypse has come. I remember one year when it was only snowing a tiny bit. They closed the schools for a week and Walmart was out of water and canned food. My family, who moved to Georgia form Colorado, thought this was hysterical. So yeah, it's been pretty cold here and because I had a taste spring the other day, I am so ready for this cold to end. 
...loopdeedoooagain...
Colorado. Last hear I visited my homestate and my sister, nieces, and I decided to go camping in the mountains. Now, I've talked about camping a little bit before, but this was legitimate camping. That means, no bathrooms, no restaurants nearby, and no cell signals. We were in the Rockies. My nieces had never been camping before and I had never been camping in the Rockies and my sister had never been either. So it was a new experience for all of us. Again, like my other camping story, we didn't have and men with us. We started out our trip driving about 4 hours into the mountains. We stopped in this little town that was about 2 hours away from camp and ate dinner before heading onto the gravel road and up into the trees. By the time we got to the gravel road, it was getting dark. So we were driving into the dark and to a place we've never been before on a road that has no destination besides the mountains. There was literally no way to figure out where you were, you just kept going until you decided you liked a spot and wanted to set up camp there. So we found our spot and set up the tent with the use of the headlights. We crawl into our sleeping bags and start settling the girls down. They fall asleep and I'm drifting off when my sister wakes me and asks me if I hear anything strange. Sure enough, I heard footsteps. We started hyperventilating. What were we going to do?! What if they were escape convicts or what if it was a bear on the prowl?! We had no weapons with us and no way to hide. All we could do was sit and wait. So we did and the noises kept getting closer. Then we saw lights. That knocked a bear out of the options. So obviously it was an escape convict. Now we really started getting scared. So we devised a plan. My sister was going to go start the car and see if she saw anything and I was going to grab the girls and jump in and we were going to get out of there. She got out of the tent to look and jumped right back in because the lights got closer. What if they got to us before we could get to the car? So paralyzed by fear, we stayed in the tent. The noises died down a little and the lights dimmed. We woke up in the morning and went on a walk. Our convict was an old man that decided to go camping at two in the morning.  

Awkward

I work at a coffee shop. One night we were really busy and my co-workers and I were getting a little stressed out. This one Asian kid came up to the register to order and he bought a fancy pour over set to hand brew his coffee with. I'm not racist or anything, I just remember that he was Asian. The total was $57.00 if I remember correctly. We told him the total and he handed a $5 to My co-worker, Alexis. She took it waited expectantly for more bills to be handed to her. She waited...and waited. Then she repeated the total to him and he just stared at her. He stared...and stared. She stared back and I stared at them both. I'm pretty sure they held eachother's stares for 2 minutes. Then once again, she repeated the total to him. He kept on staring. I couldn't handle it anymore. I bent over and pretended to get something out of the drawer underneath the register. I was attempting to regain control of my self before I blew up and started cracking up. Well, I couldn't keep it in and I started laughing so hard I was crying. Alexis gave me a look that said, "Shut up", but I couldn't do it. So I walked into the back and kept laughing. After I managed to stop and breathe, I walked back out to make sure she didn't need any help with the next orders. The Asian kid was still standing there and he was still staring. She looked at me, eyes pleading for help and so I walked over to support her while she explained to him that he was about $52 away from the total. He finally stopped staring and said, "I know. I have a credit card." I could tell Alexis was refraining from yelling, "WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT TEN MINUTES AGO!?" at him. We took the card and finished the transaction and he walked away. We started cracking up again and the people in line were all laughing too. We weren't being mean to him or anything, we were just laughing at the awkwardness and lack of communication.

Camping

I love camping. I love being outside and exploring. There is nothing like camping. Nothing compares to sleeping under the stars, the lingering smell of a good fire, and the great outdoors. I am grateful that my parents started taking me camping when I was really little because it was something that was a huge part of my childhood. There was one time where my mom and one of her girlfriends decided to go on a camping trip in the water fall region of North Carolina. The first thing we did was set up camp, which took a lot longer than it should have. Probably because our moms didn't know how to set up the tents without our dads. Then we decided to go on a hike and enjoy the daylight. I remember starting a hike that was supposed to be two miles and we were excited about it because we would still have time to collect kindling before it got dark afterward. Well, 4 hours into the hike we starting thinking that maybe, just maybe it wasn't actually two miles like we originally thought. We ran out of snacks and water and started to worry, but we kept walking. So I guess we weren't that worried. Two hours later we reached a road that intersected with the trail. It was starting to get dark. By now my friends and I are done making the most of it and our mothers have become the definition of hysterical. Suddenly we heard a car coming and sure enough, a lil jeep comes speeding by. Our mothers wave the car full of hippies down and my friend's mom jumps in with them to go get our car. So we wave goodbye at her and read the writing on the back of the jeep that says, "headed to hell". Don't worry, she came back a while later and rescued us. Turns out that hike was 23 miles long. Needless to say, we didn't have time to collect kindling before bed that night.

Reflection

I find it extremely difficult to complete self-evaluations. I usually have to do them many times before I feel the least bit satisfied with the result. I guess I do not like to be categorized or stereotyped. Maybe I just do not like to limit myself. What makes it so difficult, is how hard it is for me to feel like I'm answering honestly by not perceiving myself as who I want to be compared to people I admire or who I think I should be based on what my mother has told me. After trying at least four times, I ended up with a result that I'm not necessarily comfortable with, but that I do not strongly oppose. That is life though, isn't it? There are always things to learn and ways we change that bring growth, which moves us along. We are like wildflowers. We start out bright and hopeful and then the winds come; we are uprooted and tossed into the air until eventually, our petals spread out and plant themselves in new places where they can grow furthermore.

My results show that I am an INFJ. I understand those results only show that I am most likely to fall in the categories INFJ covers and I agree with almost everything in the description. I would like to point out that while they may describe most of my goals and personality, those letters do not define me. I want to focus on the letter “I” meaning, “Introvert”. For example, I used to be a complete introvert. I was the kid that spent my free-time with my nose in a book, I was the little girl that chose to watch the other kids play games instead of joining in, and I was the sibling that didn't voice her opinions. However, I had a seed that was waiting to be planted for growth. I might have appeared to be an introvert, but I never wanted to be one. I always wanted to be the kid that was unafraid to shine. Maybe my problem was never that I started out as an introvert, but that I started out uncertain of myself. I remember one time where I was forced out of my comfort zone in drama class. I was scared out of my mind to get up in front of everyone and participate in the improv exercise, but I loved the thrill of it and the pride I felt when I sat back down. Like a shy, little turtle that cautiously stretches it's neck out of it's shell for the first time, once I got a taste of light I didn't want to go back into hiding. Slowly, but surely I became more confidant. I believe that is how growing feels and I believe that people are never done learning new things about themselves and they should explore growth even if it seems impossible.

The test was spot-on with almost all things regarding school. I love reading and writing and I love learning about those two things. That is something I have recently re-discovered. One thing the results say is that “In the writing process, the INFJ will often...need to organize their writing to allow time for thinking and put a lot of thought into writing in order to impact their reader” and I feel so strongly about both of those things that it makes me a little emotional. I believe that writing makes a person look into their soul. Seeing the academic strengths an INFJ has is encouraging and makes me want to accept challenges and excel. Just like a person can experience new things that may change how they perceive themselves and chose to grow, writing is full of learning and growing and it is one of the most exciting and beautiful things available for a human being to experience.