tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61364621802151869012024-03-12T18:27:10.945-07:00DecadentPlaceUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-35017991002215078942013-06-01T16:16:00.001-07:002013-06-01T16:26:13.299-07:00NYC 2013<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<span style="color: white;">Well, I've come to terms with the fact that I desire to blog way more often than I actually do. I always have witty things that come to mind in the middle of some fun adventurous thing we're doing and I say to myself, "THIS is going to make a great blog!" Then five months go by and it seems way less witty, like it's past it's prime. We've had several blog worthy days this year, but our weekend in New York City, I was DETERMINED to document! </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Several people have asked us why we were going there and asking if it was for a specific event. The truth is, nope. We've both been there in the past and wanted to go again. We decided to skip out on giving each other birthday presents this year and treat each other to a long weekend in NYC instead :) </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">This may be a picture overload, but let's be honest, pictures are worth 1,000 words, right?!? We stayed in the Double Tree by Hilton in Times Square. We were able to use points David had from work travel to book most of our stay. </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Day 1</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Soup Kitchen (from Seinfeld) for lunch</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Central Park (Got to see the season finale of SVU being recorded)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Lindor Chocolate and the M&M store</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Starbucks!!!! (Trying for a break out of the rain)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">The Book of Mormon on Broadway </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Giant $4 pizza</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Day 2</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Waited in line to not get on Live with Kelly & Michael</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Central Park (In the SUN this time!)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Apple Store</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">FAO Schwartz</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">China Town (Delicious lunch!)</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">911 Memorial</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Brooklyn Bridge</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Wicked on Broadway</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Donut Ice Cream Sandwich (WHAT?!? Best creation EVER!)</span></div>
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<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<span style="color: white;">Day 3</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<span style="color: white;">Newsies on Broadway </span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<span style="color: white;">Improv Comedy</span></div>
<div style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<span style="color: white;">Fancy Dinner </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Empire State Building</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Times Square at night</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Day 4 </span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Grand Central Station</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Times Square</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">Fly Home :(</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">All in all, we stayed pretty busy but had SOOO much fun! We had only bought Wicked tickets before we went. For Book of Mormon we were able to get discount cancellation tickets and for Newsies we won $30 lottery tickets! Had a blast, stayed under budget, and made memories for a lifetime. No other person I would have rather have been there with than my best friend!!!</span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">-Drakesout</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-59951594905822219442012-10-21T07:12:00.000-07:002012-10-21T07:12:22.903-07:00Fall = Corn Maze!!!<div style="text-align: center;">
Well, fall is OFFICIALLY in full swing! There are a few things I feel like have to be done in order to complete fall: 1.) Bake Pumpkin everything, 2.) Make applesauce, 3.) Go to a fall activity (pumpkin patch, corn maze, apple picking, etc) and last but not least, 4.) Watch massive loads of football. So far we're on track to making fall a huge success. </div>
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Yesterday we completed our list by hitting up the corn maze with our good friends AJ and Lindsey. David and I joked that they're either going to love us more or not want to see us for a long time after this week. We went to a dinner and a marriage conference Thursday night with them, then grilled out Friday night with them, and then spent most of Saturday with them at the corn maze :) We feel so blessed to call them friends and neighbors. </div>
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Uncle Shuck's Farm!</div>
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So sad. The stinking sun got in the way of this!</div>
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Just might be one of my faves!</div>
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I'm pretty sure we broke every one of these rules... at least the boys did. </div>
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Love these sweet, precious friends!!! </div>
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Lindsey is almost 19 weeks prego and you can't even tell unless you look with a magnifying glass :) </div>
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This maze had three different mazes and we did a competition guys v girls for the first one. </div>
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Linds and I definitely won. </div>
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<br />I don't know what was happening here, but isn't he cute?</div>
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<br />Yes, I had my first ever experience with boiled peanuts... gross. </div>
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Definitely not worth all they hype. </div>
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Funnel cake? Bomb. </div>
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After the corn maze we ate our fattening food, went on a hayride and ended the night with S'mores around the fire pit. It really doesn't get to be a better day/night than this! I put away my camera after the sun went down, so just imagine the rest :) </div>
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Thanks for a great adventure, AJ & Lindsey! We love you guys!!!</div>
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Next stop: Christmas lights!</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-75705321360033696882012-09-24T07:24:00.002-07:002012-09-24T07:30:54.763-07:00The Day That Changed Our Lives... Forever.<br />
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Well, I'm proud to announce, we FINALLY have our wedding pictures! Not that they're late, just that since August 11 I've been waiting impatiently for them :) Shout out to <a href="http://alisonmayphotography.com/">Alison May Photography</a> for such an amazing job. We LOVED having our pictures done by Ali. She was AMAZING! Here's the truth, I could put up all 711 pictures... but I'll spare you the pain that brings me joy and just put up my top 100... errr 10. :)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw17xxJmed-6L0XUgDnvMEefEiD4RCOR9Y2y6nCNcsVOnrR3ttFZix4FxRxhEZ_fVLdFEDXKi6RZVFH8G4dM7SuDjJ4BYX5IjdZfNy4jua_ez4neEtlbIFIwg2C3bsrBJZbd6t6iAHtM8/s1600/IMG_0739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw17xxJmed-6L0XUgDnvMEefEiD4RCOR9Y2y6nCNcsVOnrR3ttFZix4FxRxhEZ_fVLdFEDXKi6RZVFH8G4dM7SuDjJ4BYX5IjdZfNy4jua_ez4neEtlbIFIwg2C3bsrBJZbd6t6iAHtM8/s640/IMG_0739.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Seriously? All of the kids looking good?!? I mean, that's got to be a world record!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Shout out to Hannah for making this awesome Groom's cake!!!</td></tr>
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It was truly the most amazing and magical day for both of us. There are so many things that I could say to go along with this day, but the pictures speak for themselves. What a great and gracious God we serve. We could not be more blessed. </div>
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(For those of you who didn't get a chance to watch our little video, I will post it shortly)</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-43162198623877879192012-09-21T06:12:00.000-07:002012-09-21T12:44:56.804-07:00Falcons Baby!!! Well, a lot has changed since I last wrote a blog... moved, married, new job. I'm a faithful blog reader with much blog envy. I read people's blogs and think, "Why don't I write anymore?"Quite frankly, there wasn't always exciting things to write about so I think that's what slowed my progress.<br />
If you're reading this, I'm sure you already know that David and I got married in August. It was the BEST. DAY. EVER. We haven't gotten our wedding pictures back yet, but when we do, I'll be sure to do a post on that. After the wedding day/week/month, we moved to Atlanta. (Buckhead to be specific) David's job was wanting him here and the timing just seemed right. It was a bitter-sweet move, but overall we're loving discovering the BIG city together... which brings me to my blog, Atlanta FALCONS!!!<br />
For David's wedding/birthday present, I gave him/us season tickets to the Falcons. I know, kind of a selfish gift, but he didn't mind!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The goofy face I love.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"> Monday was our first official home game of the 2012 season. It was a LATE game. I don't know how people do the late nights and still function. The game started out 8:30 and we didn't get home until about 2AM. Yikes!!!!! </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">Also new in my love life is my love for fantasy football. I had been asking David for a long time if I could be in one of his leagues... his answer was always the same, "no." (Yes, crushing my heart) Don't worry though, one of our friends from church was also struggling with the same husband issue that I was and she decided to form a girl's league. (Shout out to Becky!) </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4Ds-SvaBj8elOgYm27gvSp2bZ7sTJXXBv5Bp8SSseHYOZECN-r7mPCtl66w6NDyLAtlyd1b29ZNXp1t1J_6Z3hwlEaWjiriWeQg45phpjGiF0lkh3plXu7kwF0iPm1yrf5i5uls9kno/s1600/IMG_2410.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4Ds-SvaBj8elOgYm27gvSp2bZ7sTJXXBv5Bp8SSseHYOZECN-r7mPCtl66w6NDyLAtlyd1b29ZNXp1t1J_6Z3hwlEaWjiriWeQg45phpjGiF0lkh3plXu7kwF0iPm1yrf5i5uls9kno/s400/IMG_2410.PNG" width="265" /></a><span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;"><br />Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm proud to announce that I'm a member in my very own fantasy league. Take THAT, David! ;)<br />My QB is Matt Ryan (The Falcon's QB) and my opponent had Peyton Manning. This week, while the falcons were playing Denver in real life, I was also on the edge of my seat as our QBs whent head to head. STRESSFUL! Seriously, I don't know if anyone could have prepared me for how stressful FF is! We seriously went point for point the whole game until the end when Peyton threw a bunch of yards and I lost by THREE stinking points. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3MH4R_UjH6hebg3QHiPEROIIgROANlr6KagoCmJLFXN-ryiXzZ7XKJ81lhMtZbITFd6aF3FMt-MUHo-fd6vbVlEpCna-xhELlmQ5cjMhzynE8GIbDajvqAzG2odBpMF1M3mvTuPA8Ak/s1600/IMG_0379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB3MH4R_UjH6hebg3QHiPEROIIgROANlr6KagoCmJLFXN-ryiXzZ7XKJ81lhMtZbITFd6aF3FMt-MUHo-fd6vbVlEpCna-xhELlmQ5cjMhzynE8GIbDajvqAzG2odBpMF1M3mvTuPA8Ak/s640/IMG_0379.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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It was such a learning night for me. 1.) Falcons are a little ghetto. 2.) It's much more difficult to hear the refs calls in the stadium. 3.) The field is much bigger than it appears on tv. 4.) FF is even more intense when you're at the game.<br />
In preparation for the game, I was required to do some homework... I love my husband. There we were smashed on the MARTA (Subway) with 500 other Falcons fans and he's quizzing me on the RBs and TE.<br />
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All in All, it was a fantastic night with my best friend. Cannot WAIT for next week! </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-1482520298416179252012-02-16T05:23:00.000-08:002012-02-16T05:23:00.004-08:00Thankful<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2vQvSpMhhEvxuRDYKK_0r3s13kef11hDJ5pCiTd_dlP8v2stHO5L-t3wmWuGz2zrZut7345Drt81AwAdvOkgzs5x48NmqwBxVMNBi_LbR2TXfoGHX2Zxe_BzWThYbsnrCbMRimL7BHEw/s1600/DSC_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2vQvSpMhhEvxuRDYKK_0r3s13kef11hDJ5pCiTd_dlP8v2stHO5L-t3wmWuGz2zrZut7345Drt81AwAdvOkgzs5x48NmqwBxVMNBi_LbR2TXfoGHX2Zxe_BzWThYbsnrCbMRimL7BHEw/s320/DSC_0004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
There are plenty of things I should be doing right now... studying being the top of the list. I do have a test in approximately three hours, but my sister has been, Ahem, hassling me of late to write a blog... I figured Valentine's was a good excuse to tell the world about my favorite man.<br />
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It's true, we haven't even been dating for four months yet. Maybe that will take away the sweetness of this for you, but not for me. To me, it's just perfect. I moved across the country and I couldn't be happier. Don't get me wrong, it was a bitter-sweet move and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss my sweet babies back in the NW, but it was right. The timing could not have been better. Everything - and I do mean EVERYTHING - fell into place. From getting out of my lease, to starting school, to having a place to live. It's funny the things we worry about from day to day when the truth is God makes things happen.<br />
<br />
Without further adieu, my top ten favorite things about this man...<br />
1.) Loves God with all of his heart and LIVES in that everyday.<br />
2.) Loves his family unconditionally.<br />
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3.) Constantly striving for excellence in all that he does. Not in a prideful way, just that everything he does, he does it at 110%. From disc golf to work ethic, excellency. :)<br />
4.) True to his word. Face value. No facade.<br />
5.) Walks in humility.<br />
6.) RIDICULOUSLY competitive. Trash talks like there's no tomorrow.<br />
7.) Selfless. Always putting others before himself.<br />
8.) Generous.<br />
9.) Chivalrous. Opening car doors, paying for things... just good 'ol southern hospitality :)<br />
10.) Gentle, sweet, caring, quick to listen and slow to speak.<br />
11.) Reliable friend and confidant.<br />
12.) Excellent communicator.<br />
13.) Lets me cry when I need to.<br />
14.) Watches chick flicks with me. Even lets me fall asleep during movies.<br />
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15.) Is so goofy... just fun. We have so much fun together. Genuinely enjoy him.<br />
16.) Makes me laugh more than I knew i could and makes me smile at just the thought of him.<br />
17.) Has the BEST sense of humor. <br />
18.) Oh, and definitely nice to look at. A fine specimen of God's divine beauty, if you will.<br />
<br />
... sorry... got a little carried away... I guess it's my top 18 list! :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4SehVjQgdi6zVoZtpUqNUUCm-p51jb69PopW3wEKlKSrL5Ay5CFRA3KhpPdhbUzI2p2EjteKLbVILPm4p0m6LNhZAOF1eFIX8U29NXRr_gQmjldB4PRreR0oKkLHLBE85aQssFpgQQU/s1600/IMG_0888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4SehVjQgdi6zVoZtpUqNUUCm-p51jb69PopW3wEKlKSrL5Ay5CFRA3KhpPdhbUzI2p2EjteKLbVILPm4p0m6LNhZAOF1eFIX8U29NXRr_gQmjldB4PRreR0oKkLHLBE85aQssFpgQQU/s320/IMG_0888.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>So thankful for where we're at in life. So thankful for this wonderful man. I am one blessed girl. I keep asking myself, "How did I get so lucky?" Not sure I'll ever know the answer to that one, but I'll just keep thanking God for this amazing man each and every day.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiolI3N_3J6rbmFbXSULfVnMdVBLov5vG4sCdZ8JOLUFoZm7HmMpmAr1O3x7mYyqj2Hsr_wye3qBM2Chu_xk7acV6jGEINuuxQnSDE9WJRSUHY5ZpPIDIruA6sAfzNLvghLTyDo8HRv5VE/s1600/IMG_0902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiolI3N_3J6rbmFbXSULfVnMdVBLov5vG4sCdZ8JOLUFoZm7HmMpmAr1O3x7mYyqj2Hsr_wye3qBM2Chu_xk7acV6jGEINuuxQnSDE9WJRSUHY5ZpPIDIruA6sAfzNLvghLTyDo8HRv5VE/s320/IMG_0902.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy Valentine's Day!!! </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-70684680059945030352011-12-03T01:23:00.000-08:002011-12-03T01:23:36.847-08:00Just one of those nights...<div style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Sometimes when I'm thinking over my day I can formulate blurbs that I think are "blog worthy." They very rarely actually make it to a blog. Well, they very rarely make it to a public blog. They always make the ever-growing mental blog! Lately I feel like the candidates have been less humorous and more heartbreaking. Don't get me wrong, there's still the occasional crazy person like last week's chart- topper... suicidal crazy lady whom i asked if she wanted her meds. She flung off all clothing and blankets, turned and yelled "F*** You B****" while simultaneously giving me not one, but TWO birdies, spreading her legs and peeing at me. You either laugh or cry...</span></span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">When the shift ends and the night turns dark, the ones that keep you up at night and haunt your dreams are the ones you can do nothing about. The teenage girl who can't stop shooting up. Pregnant. Homeless. Prostitute. Something in her voice is just so child-like - as if you can hear the innocence that was lost so many years ago crying out. A mere child, yet one who is living a life far harsher than one should ever see. The reality of the street life is met with the cold, hard, unforgiving face of addiction and she is so lost in the midst of it but I can feel her soul begging for help. Everything within me wants to hug her, to reach out, to tell her everything will be okay, to tell her of a God who loves her and can see the true person she so desperately wants to be beneath the layers of pain, heartache, and wrong choices. </span></span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Then there are those who choose to take their own lives. At what point you reach the conclusion that you cannot take this life any more is beyond me. I honestly don't comprehend the thought. I've heard it explained as the deepest type of self-absorption. A person is so self-involved that they cannot see how their actions will affect those around them - nor do they care. When I said I honestly don't comprehend it, I meant that - I have no biblical or philosophical idea here. I do however feel it is becoming much more prevalent among our culture. The pain caused by a death like this I daresay is more than most. The unanswered questions leave a scar far deeper. The guilt of the ones left behind asking what they could have done differently, could have said differently, haunts us in the dark of the night. </span></span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">At the end of the day, at the end of the shift, at the end of each week we are left with choices. We choose the </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">hope</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> that drives us. We choose the </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">truth</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> to cling to. We choose the </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">love</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"> that heals us. One day at a time, one shift at a time, one week at a time. </span></span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><br />
</span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">"You, O LORD, will not withhold Your compassion from me; Your lovingkindness and Your truth will continually preserve me." </span></span></span></span></div><div style="border-collapse: collapse; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; line-height: 21px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Psalm 40:11</span></span></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-41255684518798263412011-11-01T07:04:00.000-07:002011-11-01T07:04:34.816-07:00Matters of the Heart...You know how many times I've read Ephesians 2:8-9? Well, let's be honest, they're Awana verses which is probably why they're imbedded in my brain. I am pretty sure I don't remember the last time I read the verses leading up to those though. I suppose the concept of this is probably a given to the rest of you, but to me the simplicity of this passage was both convicting and humbling.<br />
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"But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ, and raised us up with Him..."<br />
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I guess the part that always amazes me about the God we serve is that he's not a God about tomorrow. He's not a God about getting it done later. He's not a God wishing for us to clean up our act. The kind of God we serve is the God that meets us in the midst of our sin and believes in us to be changed through Him. He looks at us with X-ray vision seeing us how he made us to be and loving us despite our actions.<br />
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I think if I were to be completely honest, my current job allows me to easily take root in the self-righteous state. It's easy to forget where we've come from or just how sinful we are. When you compare yourself to a murderer or child molester, suddenly you start patting yourself on the back, giving yourself one more 'attaboy'. The truth is, we are all one poor choice away from being on the opposite side of those bars.<br />
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I think if we had a prison for hearts, a lot more of us would find ourselves behind bars. Sure you might not be in the local county jail in the physical form, but how much more dangerous is the imprisonment of our hearts? A dead heart has forgotten what it truly means to love. When we start to dissect the grace of God, we see that it is directly fueled by love, as are all of the actions of God. My goal today is to remember the grace in my life so that I can in turn be the grace and love in the lives of others.<br />
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"For by GRACE you have been saved..."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-56011301098985851712011-09-25T00:51:00.000-07:002011-09-25T00:51:53.237-07:00I love her.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Sometimes there are those people who you call family, and they're just that, family, but not exactly the person you'd want to spend your Friday night with. Maybe I'm just lucky, but I'd spend any day with her. I am constantly reminded how rare it is to have a family that you not only love, but also love to spend time with.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEic-qfeLZ73o0hB1vHT2m7CHFyvBoRXjKSDEs3NbJCNx3Mu6VDRMou2pxQmcAPGN_ABhbM3T_I-9P4Cf-9EibknFHvJ1F8HwXk9cZk2P59YCeTOxo8XdVQWT2e4otMp8BymVs7LRkT2s/s1600/IMG_1763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEic-qfeLZ73o0hB1vHT2m7CHFyvBoRXjKSDEs3NbJCNx3Mu6VDRMou2pxQmcAPGN_ABhbM3T_I-9P4Cf-9EibknFHvJ1F8HwXk9cZk2P59YCeTOxo8XdVQWT2e4otMp8BymVs7LRkT2s/s320/IMG_1763.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Here are a few reasons I am thankful for and admire my favorite sister...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QtlQcm266k58GoLKh8OccKfbkpk184IQvlpQVXC0ylGtZrbIQvbb0lVdtDFqmycx4sW32ZI2prGXp-8NC8JKC0qDf8MqVrf1zIo-at2XKIvscqL1PEqRebZmkidMwVSM3L37WasLWuM/s1600/DSC_0873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QtlQcm266k58GoLKh8OccKfbkpk184IQvlpQVXC0ylGtZrbIQvbb0lVdtDFqmycx4sW32ZI2prGXp-8NC8JKC0qDf8MqVrf1zIo-at2XKIvscqL1PEqRebZmkidMwVSM3L37WasLWuM/s320/DSC_0873.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><br />
1.) She brought her 9month pregnant self up to Tacoma to help me move and reorganize my whole house. (And might I just add she was a BEAST!)<br />
2.) She just busted out a baby sans pain meds. (And looks hella good too!)<br />
3.) She is one of the best moms I have ever known.<br />
4.) She has more patience than I will ever dream of having.<br />
5.) She loves her family with a selfless conviction.<br />
6.) She can single-handedly - in the same 60 seconds - make me laugh hysterically and tick me off more than any person in the world.<br />
7.) She is the only person I know who will cry with me just for crying and continue to chew her ice cream through the whole thing.<br />
8.) She taught me that one of the greatest things in life is a good bowl of ice cream.<br />
9.) This list could go on forever...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOcEoTXIHvRYUoHLehyIYc6hFLoUxXEAACz29kE6U9azmK4bBwaRfmlFw79ShhZJxqMm28AL_IZczmbrC8b_UKvsYJb89R0DTb1EZFqv6z4NCu_sE5Au8ZuYdLd5PrAeiaokFCkO7r_4/s1600/Baby+Jess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOcEoTXIHvRYUoHLehyIYc6hFLoUxXEAACz29kE6U9azmK4bBwaRfmlFw79ShhZJxqMm28AL_IZczmbrC8b_UKvsYJb89R0DTb1EZFqv6z4NCu_sE5Au8ZuYdLd5PrAeiaokFCkO7r_4/s320/Baby+Jess.jpg" width="215" /></a></div><br />
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I've spent my life having the greatest role-model any little sister could ever ask for. <a href="http://Threeolsons.blogspot.com/">Jules</a>, you amaze me every day and I am so blessed to call you my sister, but even more to call you my best friend.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNglsuMilEb_jfv3DLFwg-yVHVEuhDPeQUaxDLARzY5vD64RUo8YiS2NycWmJZc6i4oWcuyYIqsd3Yxq2oYRjBnEqcO5pqXEOrGvDDT3a7T7JPaX9rGhEmX4uSTcYJFrCKjRmByPRK2U/s1600/IMG_6841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijNglsuMilEb_jfv3DLFwg-yVHVEuhDPeQUaxDLARzY5vD64RUo8YiS2NycWmJZc6i4oWcuyYIqsd3Yxq2oYRjBnEqcO5pqXEOrGvDDT3a7T7JPaX9rGhEmX4uSTcYJFrCKjRmByPRK2U/s320/IMG_6841.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I love you!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-79125844118781115492010-07-31T22:12:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.435-07:00So my new years resolution with this blog was to write a new blog every month. Although, I don't think I actually told anyone that because I don't exactly believe in the term "new years resolution" but in my mind, that was my goal for the year. I've thought about blogging so much since my last post. There were several stories that brought me to this very spot where I started pecking away at a few keys. The only reason that stopped me from posting said blogs were that everything I blogged about seemed to be about death or dying. Here's my conclusion to that dilemma, I'm going to blog anyway. This year as a nurse, my reality has been death. My title at work as been "the Angel of Death" but I like to refer to it as "The Angel of Mercy." Seems a little less harsh on the ears. For whatever reason, I am coming to accept that God has given me favor with patients that are stepping into eternity. <br /><br />This last week I had three patients pass away. One each day that I worked. (For anyone who is just reading this, please note that I work on a Medical/Oncology floor and that these patients, unless otherwise specified, were on End of Life care, they did not have a cardiac arrest or "Code Blue.") Since I started working at Madigan last June, I have had 23 patients pass away. Each one is different. Each patient passes away in their own way. Each family reacts differently from the next. I'm not sure there is any way to "get good" at being a nurse taking care of End of Life patients. <br /><br />This month I was reminiscing on the past year and thinking about the different family members, friends and coworkers of these patients. There are some patients you just cannot forget. (Some you wish you could forget...) There is a handful of people whose stories will continue to live on. Memories of children weeping over their dead mother's body haunt me in my dreams. Their faces are so real, so tangible, I feel that I can still reach out a hand and touch them, put an arm around their bodies riveting from sobs. I see mothers crying over the bodies of their young sons. I see fathers, once tough and calloused, brought to their knees. I wonder if there is something I could have done differently, something I could have said to ease the pain, but in my heart I know there was nothing to be done. <br /><br />The Family members become your extended patients and suddenly you go from having one patient to 6 patients. There is nothing more humbling, nothing more draining, nothing more saddening than standing by a husband or wife and showing them how to let their spouse go. <br /><br />I always thought the kids were the hardest ones to watch when a patient is passing away. Their small world is crashing around them as they know it. This week I realized something - More than watching a small child cry, more than watching a mother or father weep at a bedside, more than watching a husband of 50 years hold his wife's hand as her heart of gold stops, above all of these heart wrenching scenarios is the moment when there is no one there. He came in as a train wreck and I overheard the physicians say they would be surprised if he even made it out of the ICU before he passed. He made it. Barely, but he made it. He came to our floor in the same train wreck condition, was listed as a "DNR/DNI" (Do not resuscitate/Do not intubate) and added to our growing list of "End of Life" patients. What I was expecting to meet, and what I did meet, were completely opposite. I was anticipating a patient that was unresponsive, I got a patient that was alert and oriented. Due to his condition and Diagnosis, making out the words he was saying became my mission. It was obvious that there were things he needed to say, and things he needed to be heard. One morning it took me almost six hours to figure out what he was saying. After many frustrating attempts to communicate, I decoded that he had some parts that were at Tyson Motors getting fixed and he would like me to call and tell them that he was sorry he didn't pick them up on Monday like he had told them he would do. I actually found it quite admirable. I learned that he hates country music with a passion and lives to hear classical. I learned he had an estranged daughter. I kept waiting for a family member to come to his side. A son, a daughter, a wife... but there was no one. He told me no one would be coming unless his neighbor stopped by. He was right. Spare from a neighbor stopping by, he was alone. Alone and dying. Dying yet still too aware of his surroundings to turn off his mind. <br /><br />The last time I visited this patient in the hospice house that he had been taken to, the nurses told me he had been unresponsive since he'd been there. I went in to his room and I heard some ungodly country music playing from his radio at his bedside. I started laughing and I said, "Well no wonder they say you're unresponsive, Mr. Blank, they're playing the devil's music for you. Let's find you some classical." A small smile spread across his face and he simply said, "You're back." <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTYBwG1dVyfBtSNLjoUi2gmaFb60qOdrBKZKs-on9ncTiSbC1W1htRN4hgBO9gmwvS_RIdHqRSwlKnghobRLIxzAz3gr6cHO1zr_cj0axvV-9FmM2Vrlk2iytdr6PlP6ChKtSuWyD9W4N/s1600/IMG_1456.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTYBwG1dVyfBtSNLjoUi2gmaFb60qOdrBKZKs-on9ncTiSbC1W1htRN4hgBO9gmwvS_RIdHqRSwlKnghobRLIxzAz3gr6cHO1zr_cj0axvV-9FmM2Vrlk2iytdr6PlP6ChKtSuWyD9W4N/s400/IMG_1456.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500307495207017506" /></a><br />It seems the more I see the end of life, the more I treasure the beginning of life. Each time I watch a patient pass away, I get to see the people that are surrounding them and the legacies they leave behind. It gives me hope and passion to live a life worthy of being mentioned. It makes me want to cherish the good times and forget about the bad. It makes me forget about tomorrow and relish in today. To capture the sun and dance in the rain. It makes me appreciate the little things, look forward to the larger things, and believe for the supernatural things.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-6660260509936367992010-03-22T06:51:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.631-07:00The PrivilegeI feel like the things I write about have a continuing theme of depressing. I don't mean this blog to be emo or depressing, but to simply share my point of view on death an dying. <br />This week I had another two patients pass away. I should start by telling you, they were expected to die... As in, they were on "comfort care" with DNR/DNI orders. Just don't want you all thinking I go around killing my patients! A fellow co-worker said something in passing that I started to ponder. She said, "Lambert I don't know how you deal with all that (waving her hand towards my patient's door who had just passed away.)" <br />I started thinking a lot about what she said and asked myself why it seems so natural? I think it all depends on your point of view. For me, the act of holding someone's hand as they step from this world into eternity, is a privilege. In many cases, the fear of dying is so great it's actually what keeps the patient alive longer. If you're reading this blog, you probably already know where I stand as far as my belief in Jesus and the reality of Heaven and Hell. No matter what someone believes before they encounter death, they will undoubtedly call upon Jesus in their last moments. There is always an opportunity to share the love that our Savior offers. <br />When I came on shift at 1900, I noticed that my patient was particularly odorous and I decided to make it my goal that night to give him the bed bath of a lifetime. :) Myself and another co-worker bathed said patient, put lotion on him, shaved him, scrubbed his hair and brushed his gums. This particular patient had been unresponsive for the past 4 days. After I finished bathing him, I was telling him how his wife wasn't even going to know who this spiffy young fella was lying in his bed in the morning. He turned to me, opened his eyes and shared the briefest smile with me before going back to his rough breathing. About 45 minutes later when we checked on him, he had passed away. <br />Most of the time I am able to stay emotionally detached, but this particular night warranted a single tear. I could go home from work that day knowing that I had done my job well and that knowledge was invaluable. To be able to give someone who is passing away their dignity back, regardless of how brief it may be, that is what it's all about. <br />So yes, it is an honor. Maybe giving someone a bath before they pass or performing post-mortem care isn't a glorified job, but it is dignified. Holding the hand of someone, It is a privilege.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-6039127654436179662010-02-25T07:15:00.000-08:002011-09-24T23:32:23.655-07:00Reality.I thought about entitling this blog "Life's a Bitch" or "Life sucks sometimes" or "Some things just aren't fair." They all still seem fitting, but in an attempt to not be completely mellow-dramatic, I'll come up with something lighter. Yesterday I spent the day with a good friend of mine. It wasn't a 'going to the park' day or a walk in the forest, it was simply sitting there. Sitting and just being there. Nothing about yesterday seemed fair. Not the pain, not the hopelessness, not the sadness, the lack of sleep, the dozen invasive devices. I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I don't question the reasonings of things sometimes. Maybe that's the beauty of our relationship with Jesus. He doesn't ask us to be perfect, but to be real. So as I drove home last night, I was real. I cried and asked him why. I think I must have asked it at least a few dozen times. Maybe I don't have to understand his reasoning or timing, maybe I just have to believe in the "bigger" perspective. The last two years seem to be a constant attempt to see the "bigger." Can we call life out for what it is sometimes? Shit. Sometimes life is just shitty and unfair. Death seems so final sometimes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig4QTj9pdiel8rpkBeBcR2sFlSE9juab7KoQnfAVdoLWflBe8XHwVmhwnn1quZxu8NaWH192qMEejIsBJZ6glbklhRRBvEOM150LpIN2EYZdvigwdvkBFiCWhuiXRu6HLzmkm5M78jT4Hw/s1600-h/IMG_7482.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig4QTj9pdiel8rpkBeBcR2sFlSE9juab7KoQnfAVdoLWflBe8XHwVmhwnn1quZxu8NaWH192qMEejIsBJZ6glbklhRRBvEOM150LpIN2EYZdvigwdvkBFiCWhuiXRu6HLzmkm5M78jT4Hw/s400/IMG_7482.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442204794706396706" /></a><br /> I opened up my computer this morning and I was greeted with the desktop photo of the sunset on the Oregon coast last weekend. The sun will still rise every morning. We will still get out of bed, put one foot in front of the other. Each morning we will get dressed and remind ourselves to keep breathing. And eventually, eventually we won't have to remind ourselves to breathe anymore. Mountain tops or valleys, He is faithful even when I can't always feel Him. "And the Pain of the World is a burden, And it's my cross to bear, I stumble under all the weight, I know you're Simon standing there, I KNOW you're standing there." (Caedmon's Call lyrics - Love Alone)<br />Maybe the beauty is in the reality. The Reality that this is temporary and Jesus is eternal. Pain, whether emotional, physical, spiritual, it's temporary. The Love of Jesus is real and everlasting. So today I am choosing to cling to the reality of the Eternal.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-54308023281560568522010-01-12T00:41:00.000-08:002011-09-24T23:32:23.680-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9hIoWyk7UGzr6JQX9y9nTXSuTaZ9rYQNCzCj1VpjF36qYxBJDZMWbhWo1le9gDGogazCTPBtxKFjHBOGgHruBOoRuVUBxfXTqfhc1CAKuLfMH3dGRj-X3Wwfr3phFTpCibfn44uI035e/s1600-h/IMG_1454.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9hIoWyk7UGzr6JQX9y9nTXSuTaZ9rYQNCzCj1VpjF36qYxBJDZMWbhWo1le9gDGogazCTPBtxKFjHBOGgHruBOoRuVUBxfXTqfhc1CAKuLfMH3dGRj-X3Wwfr3phFTpCibfn44uI035e/s400/IMG_1454.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425788664303530914" /></a><br />Well, today is January 12th... and I'm officially writing in 2010. What's this blog going to be about? I have no idea. That's what's so exciting about this whole blogging business. You don't have to have a massive event occur before you can write. :) Happy. To be honest, I'm using my blog as my outlet for me tonight. I'm sitting here on CQ (Charge of Quarters... if you don't know what that means, don't worry about it... it's pretty lame anyway) watching people walk in and out of the barracks. What does this job entail? Two things: One, don't let the giant building made out of strictly bricks, burn down. And Two, don't let any pedophile come into the building. It's pretty serious stuff. I do have this awesome nasty 80 year-old-widow-smoker's-cough right now, so most people run away when I start coughing... It works out well. Anyway, I have been checking things off of my lists all night. I'm doing well so far. Yesterday I wrote a list of lists. My list of lists contained 8 lists. I wrote six of those categories on my whiteboard and wrote the list of things to be done under each one. One thing I have learned lately - I cannot function without lists. I am a list guru. I live and die by lists. In fact, I think I shall write a list of things that need to be done in the event that I die. Funerals are so much easier if they're already planned out. Okay, I'm way off-topic now. Wait, I have no topic. Beautiful. Oh, right, back to the "outlet"... what I meant was, I am involved in way too much right now. I guess that's good because it keeps me out of trouble. I was thinking in October how I needed to get more involved in things... and now I'm overly involved and committed to way too much. Tonight I have successfully written my budget, finished the cleaning roster for the next six weeks, balanced my checkbooks, finished a spread sheet, and caught up on facebook gossip. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCLL1RzSWDefJD0CKhcFgOD0AJjx8cZaza1CsQodQ1SlZQya7_1xi1U9tdoGwy4pmDt40hbb5T7JV2EKc0QOrq3memiDGjl0wp9DaxzngTHHVDyeKPADJb8v-OhTeoPWq3evPN-ggIrsr/s1600-h/IMG_1451.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCLL1RzSWDefJD0CKhcFgOD0AJjx8cZaza1CsQodQ1SlZQya7_1xi1U9tdoGwy4pmDt40hbb5T7JV2EKc0QOrq3memiDGjl0wp9DaxzngTHHVDyeKPADJb8v-OhTeoPWq3evPN-ggIrsr/s400/IMG_1451.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425788832928064386" /></a>I mean, let's be real, that's pretty much what a Facebook Newsfeed is... everyone putting their business out there for the world to read. Speaking of Status Updates, it always cracks me up when people write just enough to keep you wondering exactly what they're talking about. I know you all know who I'm talking about... those Facebookers who are just desperate for someone to ask them what they're referring to so they have a reason to write another three paragraphs about their lust lives... ahem, I mean, love lives. Oh, and then there's the "over the hill" population... they have the tendency to think you actually WANT to know what happened in EVERY moment of their day. Their SU are so long you have to click the "read more..." hyperlink to see the small novel they have written about going to the grocery store. Yes, you're laughing now because you can just picture exactly what I mean. There's always a handful of people who only put a verse are their SU. Don't get me wrong, I ain't tryinta hate on no Jesus talk, but it's a STATUS UPDATE... Meh, whatev. All of this to say, I caught up on the small novels of the grocery store, the lust... ahem, love lives, and the daily verses tonight. I feel very informed, thank you Facebook. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAE1hcl3wv3ocrmbY3y0RXtDmsilIjLP3s1wiBBsIbjyvO97ba9u8EDIMxDiVZ86B-ZDH4gEGKIsWmW88uTBRN0ADgynMDJEpszqYwZ3Lo2gbB5hkvXeO2AAUyjngZe_nLtgFOGG9Pwi0/s1600-h/IMG_1270.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAE1hcl3wv3ocrmbY3y0RXtDmsilIjLP3s1wiBBsIbjyvO97ba9u8EDIMxDiVZ86B-ZDH4gEGKIsWmW88uTBRN0ADgynMDJEpszqYwZ3Lo2gbB5hkvXeO2AAUyjngZe_nLtgFOGG9Pwi0/s400/IMG_1270.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425789113905825058" /></a><br /><br />Well, I'd love to stay and play a bit longer, but the need to cross something off one of my lists is just overwhelming me. Unfortunately "Write a blog entry" was not on any of my lists, so this doesn't count for anything. However, maybe I could write it in just so I can cross it off and feel that sense of accomplishment... ;)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-49000370508318413102009-12-30T22:41:00.000-08:002011-09-24T23:32:23.699-07:00Bitter-SweetWell, it's officially been 5 months since my last blog. It's not that I have forgotten about my blog, I just feel like there haven't been events significant enough to warrant a blog. I guess that's the beauty of a blog though, there doesn't have to be an occasion. Tonight I'm feeling word-savvy and I have several thoughts on my mind, so here i sit. There are two main themes that keep going through my head. I guess I"m not entirely sure yet how they come together, but perhaps they will.<br /><br /> I know most people express the feeling of being "blessed" over the month of December. We all have the happy-go-lucky joyous feeling going on. I mean honestly, who wouldn't? You walk into any store and you're greeted with smiling sales reps and Clay Aiken singing The First Noel. Don't get me wrong, do I feel blessed? Absolutely. But I'm just as blessed in January as I am in December. I am blessed that I have a family who loves me. Blessed that i can go to work every morning and be excited about my job. Blessed that I have wonderful friendships. Blessed that I have simple things like food and running water. I guess the thing that I have been feeling the most blessed for this year is health. I know that may seem silly to some, but in my profession, I go home every day counting health as a blessing. <br /><br /> This month seemed to be the month of cancer. For anyone who has been through Chemotherapy, I applaud you. Allow me to be frank, Chemo is a bitch. To think that a person goes through all of that time and time again, and then the end result becomes death? Righteous anger. I think my childhood illusion to cancer was that it only happens to old people. Illusion is the correct term. It happens to you at 10, 16, 27, 31. Even the strongest of fighters can be defeated by this disease and it sickens me. Today I sat and held the hand of a man gasping for air. Cancer that had metastasized to his lungs was now robbing him of the oxygen keeping him alive. No amount of reassuring him of the love of Jesus erased the terrified look in his eyes. He was suffocating to death and there was nothing that any of us could do. <br /><br /> As we move into a new year, we tend to set goals we never meet and complain about the extra five pounds we gained over the month of December. My goal this year? Stop complaining about the five pounds. Remember the memories surrounding the five pounds. The laughter, the intimacy, the moments that will live on. Remember those times because all too quickly they can become the last ones.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2-rfEWW8pP3AeYcPaiADrnQiPv5KDUtfnInb-3lQwI5wdmZ10z0mfsHDKG31HkS6H5N9FybSeqtOZHHlQKCO32WuBRCs16uoYlVi9KLtTYsOAScLxuEJPKireNAct5dJlIbeAFc99Qut/s1600-h/IMG_7069.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw2-rfEWW8pP3AeYcPaiADrnQiPv5KDUtfnInb-3lQwI5wdmZ10z0mfsHDKG31HkS6H5N9FybSeqtOZHHlQKCO32WuBRCs16uoYlVi9KLtTYsOAScLxuEJPKireNAct5dJlIbeAFc99Qut/s400/IMG_7069.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421299206025997746" /></a><br />This picture was taken in November and I love how silly and candid it is. We were pretending to be gangster... well, Josh and I were. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-51782431738611266142009-07-13T09:29:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.719-07:00Strengths...A dear friend of mine made a comment this last week about living in your strengths. It was a brief conversation but I keep having that recurring thought, "Am I living in my strengths?" So by now, I've lived 21 years of life, and I'm working towards my 22nd year. I've accepted that in comparison to most, I do not know much about life, but I think there are a few things that I would say I'm passionate about.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcmVgy5k6J5cl-5JX-UbNqASjrLWkddeLaX6HxPG0CTlaFs9neHKAmYgdwCfFFaCrqD5Zpp46_CrtbFBgC_S6KJQvdl9z8d0yOg44r127f_naSXnjn4ytUoiXQwAD_1syjK1c63Wc72jB1/s1600-h/IMG_0982.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcmVgy5k6J5cl-5JX-UbNqASjrLWkddeLaX6HxPG0CTlaFs9neHKAmYgdwCfFFaCrqD5Zpp46_CrtbFBgC_S6KJQvdl9z8d0yOg44r127f_naSXnjn4ytUoiXQwAD_1syjK1c63Wc72jB1/s200/IMG_0982.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357998519620141698" /></a>I'm passionate about people. Though I occasionally loathe big groups, I thrive in conversations and connecting with new people.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3IkuVeUCkGN_Dg2m7mXNDWtyCYBiyG0Fat1UYZ7rEkJep0jBjWjbRmpE14Up56fjODo9ek5QO4wU2khuLnWBnJfZ08NwZKqBvz4y8NQGSZeM7yhyR1EfCYCUnwBw_0MGAWLEZKcRyiirE/s1600-h/IMG_0880.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3IkuVeUCkGN_Dg2m7mXNDWtyCYBiyG0Fat1UYZ7rEkJep0jBjWjbRmpE14Up56fjODo9ek5QO4wU2khuLnWBnJfZ08NwZKqBvz4y8NQGSZeM7yhyR1EfCYCUnwBw_0MGAWLEZKcRyiirE/s200/IMG_0880.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357997519911954370" /></a>I'm passionate about being a nurse. I know, I know, I haven't been at it very long... but here's the deal, i LOVE going to work. I may complain about the long hours from time to time, but truth be known, I come alive at work. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2OHu218PWpILsrOSkKb_ROSJrGNmzxasDKyHX0sIwOwcGNq7Bifpgmsx-wrML6ApP_J5mj55MJG3KZFkD2AMzqaOBF2KbQYgsM6I7esjsG0ib7Aq2QLxKawBt1_ZBCiMPmzxqLv4efHZ/s1600-h/IMG_4831.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2OHu218PWpILsrOSkKb_ROSJrGNmzxasDKyHX0sIwOwcGNq7Bifpgmsx-wrML6ApP_J5mj55MJG3KZFkD2AMzqaOBF2KbQYgsM6I7esjsG0ib7Aq2QLxKawBt1_ZBCiMPmzxqLv4efHZ/s200/IMG_4831.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358002031627376322" /></a>I'm passionate about Children and Youth. Children are a beautiful picture of the kind of faith that we as adults frequently have lost. They may be small, but I believe with all my heart that they can make a difference. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPJAwGZJua8mx2M9bAUP5pDbxv87zuPUMeaTwydGXXWEbQkgOpzWDCVvwcmkp-gRKJtENT0oC2qOcRBiuDUcZ4ojLSbjawGQg3MP7vuhqTkQrQXEAh-OuPyRMl95NXboY5ZqpF0V_JbYs/s1600-h/IMG_4995.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBPJAwGZJua8mx2M9bAUP5pDbxv87zuPUMeaTwydGXXWEbQkgOpzWDCVvwcmkp-gRKJtENT0oC2qOcRBiuDUcZ4ojLSbjawGQg3MP7vuhqTkQrQXEAh-OuPyRMl95NXboY5ZqpF0V_JbYs/s200/IMG_4995.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358002419246150466" /></a>Youth ignites me because that's where I first started loving Jesus. I want to encourage young girls that THERE IS beauty in purity and blessing in waiting. I want them to know that no matter what kind of earthly father they have, they have an Eternal Father who loves them with an unending, non-discriminatory, unconditional love. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgzM34bqPIk7eYNCFeDD1cw8hOq5Fw1JEwTQ8JHuP3vrCqyWKTjdD5iI5_xgALzIDh8_fffIQ0IL5geTAboDIsuNpRn1KyWjyhLfgKefFzOaTj9AySkQ3gA1Pn5VgpQxOpRmn1T6gmianH/s1600-h/IMG_6039.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgzM34bqPIk7eYNCFeDD1cw8hOq5Fw1JEwTQ8JHuP3vrCqyWKTjdD5iI5_xgALzIDh8_fffIQ0IL5geTAboDIsuNpRn1KyWjyhLfgKefFzOaTj9AySkQ3gA1Pn5VgpQxOpRmn1T6gmianH/s200/IMG_6039.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358003702593823346" /></a>I'm passionate about missions. Missions was as much for me as it was for the people we touched. Perhaps that seems self-centered to you, but I believe I would not be here today if it were not for missions. God gave me a glimpse of His heart for people and it was the first time that the reality of God's love for each person, individually, across the globe, became a reality. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEfIRegGcVag-At-m2hBuRopYkHtDEoXvBWlxNzjsnjDWeRdFtm4DGMAgizpC8XmxTiCEan-_DmfIlixLvYVS86OUliO5p0pCn7r7QNQP3nMZhkpsSQ0i_whu8_ehyphenhyphen8YWmig70sTHWA9Qw/s1600-h/IMG_5967_2.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEfIRegGcVag-At-m2hBuRopYkHtDEoXvBWlxNzjsnjDWeRdFtm4DGMAgizpC8XmxTiCEan-_DmfIlixLvYVS86OUliO5p0pCn7r7QNQP3nMZhkpsSQ0i_whu8_ehyphenhyphen8YWmig70sTHWA9Qw/s200/IMG_5967_2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358005067881780162" /></a>Not a collective, "God loves all people." No, "God love EACH person." He loves them where they are at, geographically, socioeconomically, relationally. He loves them regardless as to what ethnicity, sex, sins, or any other barrier that may seem too great. <br />Lastly, I'm passionate about serving. I'm not entirely sure at what point this became evident, but I love the idea of serving people and being able to bear their burdens for and with them. Jesus says, "Whatever you have done unto the least of these, you have done unto me." Thus, when we are serving each other, we are serving the King. Love that concept. <br />Where does this leave me? No idea. I'm excited to see where God takes me and what's next after my last 24 months and thirteen days with Uncle Sam.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-51817493319040162432009-06-23T12:25:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.740-07:00The ConditionWell, this week marks my second week at Fort Lewis. I'd love to say that I have some earth-shattering news or that something giant is going on, however, the the things happening in my life at the present time are mostly happening in my <span style="font-style:italic;">heart.</span> I have recently diagnosed myself with <span style="font-style:italic;">Conditional Servant's Heart Disease.</span> I refer to it as a disease because if it is not properly cured, it will take over my life and eventually kill me. I suppose the title is somewhat self-explanatory, but I will attempt to share in detail. <br /> Several years ago I read most of the book entitled the Five Love Languages. I determined that I am probably high up there on the Acts of Service. I enjoy doing things for people, especially if I can do it and they never have to know how it got done. When people have made time for me in the past, it has always been a tremendous testimony to me and i have always wanted to be able to serve people in the same way. Having said that, i have recently come to the epiphany that I do this conditionally. "Conditionally" meaning when I am at a place in my life where I am happy and excited to be there and it is under my circumstances. Jesus says that "<span style="font-weight:bold;">Whatever you have done for the least of these, you have done unto me.</span>" In essence, every act of service that you or I conduct, is being done unto the Lord. I mean, I realize that that sounds like the most Christianese/cliche' statement, but the implication of that information hit me this week in such a real way. Just as grace is given out freely and love is unconditional, so also must be my service. I want to serve people with the kind of love that Jesus has, I want to sacrifice my time with a joyful heart, I want to bequeath grace with ease. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">"Let Us Acknowledge the Lord;.... As Surely As the Sun Rises, He WILL Appear."<br />Hosea 6:3</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-26926651864004361142009-05-26T11:51:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.762-07:00Unpacking... repacking... life...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN9fSY8IOD0x8xd9aD56oO4TqfRO4BkU_hyphenhyphenR5JZmi_RpcznsYNAx3apG9I7x1utmsfVfy1vPYsYmvOvjtGohC1Sq_L0Asr6sozx4WlxFkOCZvhUViier_60K-oNSapo4K-xUtRciupUCw2/s1600-h/IMG_4163.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN9fSY8IOD0x8xd9aD56oO4TqfRO4BkU_hyphenhyphenR5JZmi_RpcznsYNAx3apG9I7x1utmsfVfy1vPYsYmvOvjtGohC1Sq_L0Asr6sozx4WlxFkOCZvhUViier_60K-oNSapo4K-xUtRciupUCw2/s320/IMG_4163.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340238732332942130" /></a><br /> Well, it seems like just when I think I have my life planned out, I get a curve ball. First in coming to Georgia, and now having to leave Georgia. I may or may not have spent the entire first month in Georgia loathing it's very existence. I was just reminiscing a few days ago how I spent my entire Independence Day in my room feeling sorry for myself while listening to the fireworks outside my window. Yet slowly, surely, almost without my knowledge, I have come to love this place I once despised. Yes, I occasionally still get annoyance in my heart when I walk outside and I am instantly dripping with sweat. I still can't figure out how one day my car can be immaculate and the next day the skies have snowed pollen down on it. Or how it can be completely sunny one minute, pour down rain for five minutes, and then back to sunny skies without missing a beat? These things are mysterious to me and although I'm sure I'll never know the "why" or "how," hopefully I'll get another opportunity to bask in their mystery. <br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPBNHdbEMStT5eL3EVxgKmgI3g-XzDLBFN6-rthafe_VKM3ZWpQOYhcSg_GvBC2UIeXNKfiNWop2d9UqJUBaFimf-MjbOuX_x2ZK43Ejnz1byy05sLHAdHE6Ftkt7jYPJZYWAQcwwIyWlr/s1600-h/IMG_4669.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPBNHdbEMStT5eL3EVxgKmgI3g-XzDLBFN6-rthafe_VKM3ZWpQOYhcSg_GvBC2UIeXNKfiNWop2d9UqJUBaFimf-MjbOuX_x2ZK43Ejnz1byy05sLHAdHE6Ftkt7jYPJZYWAQcwwIyWlr/s320/IMG_4669.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340239316063761346" /></a><br /> For a small town girl who knew only rain, the heart of the South has taught me a thing or two. My dad has always told me, "Jess, Slow down! Annunciate your words!" Well, it turns out, people talk even slower over here... or I have started talking faster. Sometimes I think I can get ten of my thoughts out to their one. (Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration.) I have learned an entire vocabulary of ebonics. I have learned that sometimes slower is better. Most of all, I have learned that it really doesn't matter where God places you, because even when I think I have my life planned out just they way it should be, His plan is always better than mine. Even now, in the midst of a roller-coaster of emotions, I have to believe that His plan is best. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWtTzc88q9fY3ut-0wYmSZIZmZymTgLRI3XFJAkB9BGb_TLCr9wg-hnhtnfLsmKdha-z1W38jgFFmvlqYLsHEfsLzPC_IJErA6SQJm3VN1ykplfTxkpxfKTD-xPFfMGZyJKDER5GJQHb1/s1600-h/IMG_4680.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmWtTzc88q9fY3ut-0wYmSZIZmZymTgLRI3XFJAkB9BGb_TLCr9wg-hnhtnfLsmKdha-z1W38jgFFmvlqYLsHEfsLzPC_IJErA6SQJm3VN1ykplfTxkpxfKTD-xPFfMGZyJKDER5GJQHb1/s320/IMG_4680.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340239843870444370" /></a><br />"Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4 <br />July of last year I would have told anyone who asked that I had no desire to be here, this was the LAST place I wanted to be. <span style="font-weight:bold;">I had absolutely no knowledge or faith that the desire of my heart could actually become the place that God took me.</span> Don't get me wrong, it didn't happen over night. In fact, it took me months to finally realize that I needed to "unpack" my life - emotionally, spiritually, relationally. Although it makes moving ten times harder on my heart, I wouldn't change it for the world. I have been blessed with some of the most amazing friends here and regardless as to whether or not we get to share life again, I will always cherish the memories and their influence lives on in my life. <br />"Eyes have not seen, ears have not heard, the mind cannot conceive what God has planned for those who love him." 1 Corinthians 2:9Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-81416535224008601842009-05-26T11:36:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.779-07:00I'm a nurse!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0pMHOh3g-FsBsx6g1_qsM-OiGndanuOKcYNXEZ01-oq1FtECeFUWzs8ZREhaJ7SF-vG1DGFDLxQYNyb7dNjHGOiMge7MOQgPSxQyVbu8Uo86l-zjlJD2NO8rZAsWqv-o1EK89BXRXSeQ/s1600-h/3253_1139516484152_1114590057_30410055_5302410_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0pMHOh3g-FsBsx6g1_qsM-OiGndanuOKcYNXEZ01-oq1FtECeFUWzs8ZREhaJ7SF-vG1DGFDLxQYNyb7dNjHGOiMge7MOQgPSxQyVbu8Uo86l-zjlJD2NO8rZAsWqv-o1EK89BXRXSeQ/s320/3253_1139516484152_1114590057_30410055_5302410_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340205820537353538" /></a><br />Yes, despite feeling like an absolute failure after taking my NCLEX, I found out last week that I did in fact pass! I'm a nurse! Yay!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-48303741850452046602009-05-13T14:55:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.798-07:00NCLEX... shoot me in the face...Well, today was the magical day. Today I went and faced my doom. I took my little self, full of all kinds of nervous energy to One Tenth Street. There is where my fate lies. Perhaps all things should not be accounted for under the "fate" category, but after taking this test, I think there is no rhyme or reason to why people pass or fail. I think there is a little angry man with wirey glasses on sitting behind some computer laughing at the poor nursing students who think they actually can beat his test. He probably just clicks "pass" or "fail" depending on his mood. Ugh. Lame. Anyway, needless to say, I walked out wondering why I had gone to school for the last year and a half and why nobody taught me about 90% of the daggone drugs on that test!!! Never in my life have I had the experience where a computer made me feel like the epitome of dog doo doo. Just sayin'... <br />Well, welcome back to the world of blogging, Jess.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-72161261097310669762009-04-13T13:04:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.817-07:00Study, study study...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozykG5ckygM2Gzvz7SGColmb5X4_0s856IcIm9NC9Wcj0hvUn8sLJXKHrn4izzG2XPZZLOZMi2tbyXq0MG9ZBft-QwOkK_LsY_u4iDereQ8AuBtsUpG0ckdt9Ng-67UVz_AfO1QBh3bW6/s1600-h/0413091601.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozykG5ckygM2Gzvz7SGColmb5X4_0s856IcIm9NC9Wcj0hvUn8sLJXKHrn4izzG2XPZZLOZMi2tbyXq0MG9ZBft-QwOkK_LsY_u4iDereQ8AuBtsUpG0ckdt9Ng-67UVz_AfO1QBh3bW6/s320/0413091601.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324270791828295010" /></a><br />I thought I should add a disclaimer to my blog to let you know where my time is currently being spent. You see, I have spent the past year working up to this moment in my life where I have finally qualified to take the NCLEX (nursing board test) for my LPN license. Thus, I am not about to fail it by not studying... Therefore, until I take my test I will probably not be on here... unless I am extremely inspired and I have something dire to tell cyber space. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSM6ADCmJtz8b43AQ9d9MF9xRYTuqaNLcEa5vG0a51Opyw0WtZLgd91upM2AT8LQ9yg3DfYAxvi-g2hkL2LiRPnaB8o3WFyFToX9wO8Vy6MfHC4nOjuwvPofiEHGGjEug6DMTbYfHRboKS/s1600-h/0413091600.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSM6ADCmJtz8b43AQ9d9MF9xRYTuqaNLcEa5vG0a51Opyw0WtZLgd91upM2AT8LQ9yg3DfYAxvi-g2hkL2LiRPnaB8o3WFyFToX9wO8Vy6MfHC4nOjuwvPofiEHGGjEug6DMTbYfHRboKS/s320/0413091600.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324270524635591346" /></a><br />It still amazes me that this whole Army training thing is so close to being over. After two years, I will finally be able to join the "real" army. Ahh, no more TRADOC!!! (If you're not military, you probably won't understand what that term means, but to all my Army folks, you understand.) <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3Br3n5lO1Q-5soGumt4dpx5-TzUZWenNyAYJpy4miv6gzz9wrODeqH3afeYbMpdnsRtkbdgodDLhPqslyK0uCxEi1WKM3-AIuyp04QC3k0pq7CHh2pGiQIASbZ7h8RsPV1Y85RFRssqE/s1600-h/0331091138.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir3Br3n5lO1Q-5soGumt4dpx5-TzUZWenNyAYJpy4miv6gzz9wrODeqH3afeYbMpdnsRtkbdgodDLhPqslyK0uCxEi1WKM3-AIuyp04QC3k0pq7CHh2pGiQIASbZ7h8RsPV1Y85RFRssqE/s320/0331091138.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324271331473235794" /></a><br />After I am done with school I will be staying here in Georgia (as of right now... orders are always subject to change) to finish out the remaining two years on my contract. Crazy! It's been a love-hate relationship, but I'm learning to appreciate it. One day at a time, one test at a time, I'm finally at my last one!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-65122090297208582262009-03-26T11:44:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.850-07:00Marathon anyone?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEmVd0Idu-uOC0Li7WCrmLbbd1dp5S1IapywNkFu8p-QLDwNtEKTfNdYkO8NWAteR_CboChj5unabxaNkUMHmgRlynTQX9pfmTos-pibxx-9rSJuKUrgkF3Dk_MDm57g2peokG8gyUlf_F/s1600-h/IMG_3289.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEmVd0Idu-uOC0Li7WCrmLbbd1dp5S1IapywNkFu8p-QLDwNtEKTfNdYkO8NWAteR_CboChj5unabxaNkUMHmgRlynTQX9pfmTos-pibxx-9rSJuKUrgkF3Dk_MDm57g2peokG8gyUlf_F/s200/IMG_3289.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317579507143126882" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsHbQr3ZmcKPX4pAkZkys-bhOTPB5Ugd3DhWgW5eDEmfdQgnCM8DThQ1tQcQgkyW3e-MbWlmBXcJIMqPjHy3MQ31la4BZHIsJc3ySJ05DC_F5HrlSQoChx8_i9ZFWGyxgscRT6Wnda_Tp/s1600-h/IMG_3286.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsHbQr3ZmcKPX4pAkZkys-bhOTPB5Ugd3DhWgW5eDEmfdQgnCM8DThQ1tQcQgkyW3e-MbWlmBXcJIMqPjHy3MQ31la4BZHIsJc3ySJ05DC_F5HrlSQoChx8_i9ZFWGyxgscRT6Wnda_Tp/s200/IMG_3286.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317577801708440514" /></a><br />I promise I'm not here to try and bore you to death with analogies or make a Jesus Parallel out of every situation, which is why I put off writing this post for a good four months. All that to say, I'm going to do it anyway... <br /><br />Wednesday morning at the crack of dawn (wait, "dawn" means there's light out... okay, before dawn...), I was running in formation and I started reminiscing on my marathon. For those of you who don't know, my father and I ran a marathon in December. It was his fifth and my first. Running the marathon was one of the things on my "bucket list," so I guess I'm a step closer to death. If you have never ran a race before, they are amazing. It really doesn't matter where your ability level is when there are 2,000+ people. There will inevitably be someone faster than you and someone slower than you. The feeling is so amazing when you are standing there in the bitter cold morning watching the world wake up, anticipating the shot to be fired, and waiting for the "Go!" to be announced. Familiar jitters capture my body and the excitement drives my determination. The realization that I'm not in this alone, makes it so much more appealing. It may be a "race" but it certainly is one filled with encouragement and the unspoken knowledge that we are all hoping to see the person beside us finishing strong in a few hours.<br />I'm sure you can guess how i draw my "spiritual parallel" from this event. I write this as much for myself as I do for those of you who take a minute to read it. My dad told me that every mile that I got to that I had not ran yet, I needed to do a dance. (Before the marathon of 26.2 miles, the furthest that I had ran was 18 miles.) It sounds silly and juvenile, yet it gave me something to look forward to and a strange motivation to get to the next mile.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZTrqkx3qkz8udG8jC-HKDXtGIzSrQpVZOjv3cLwawgjoQ0ZrSCK5IDZzWgSMxsqQjNHYCFvBMOcYDaxVyh7v_9e6YayCKldfyciub4OKOGE-wOghnRlonAHrlyR2xO_vloWBmBVohSxM/s1600-h/IMG_3295.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxZTrqkx3qkz8udG8jC-HKDXtGIzSrQpVZOjv3cLwawgjoQ0ZrSCK5IDZzWgSMxsqQjNHYCFvBMOcYDaxVyh7v_9e6YayCKldfyciub4OKOGE-wOghnRlonAHrlyR2xO_vloWBmBVohSxM/s200/IMG_3295.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317579967245890994" /></a> I can't even explain to you how much I respect my father. Don't get me wrong, I respected him before the marathon, but running with him opened up a whole new avenue of respect. He earned my respect in an "athlete" kind of way. I wanted to run fast in the beginning and he kept warning me that I needed to hold a steady pace and it would give me a good foundation for the rest of the race. He was so right. Especially at mile 22. Dang, I was finished but he just kept on keeping on at his steady pace. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaCQ0oEMXsLW4YUP3hcOZdgGdLiMxln8vlg1TF2p07jCuMMB7NK4GG1D-2Rq6j5XpTUqHr1OZVnKyrFCPznyp9JsS0qk00bUf9zvw77LbeclgyB3CqDS6h0qs17Vzy-tuUDcx7IKBTNup/s1600-h/IMG_3294.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaCQ0oEMXsLW4YUP3hcOZdgGdLiMxln8vlg1TF2p07jCuMMB7NK4GG1D-2Rq6j5XpTUqHr1OZVnKyrFCPznyp9JsS0qk00bUf9zvw77LbeclgyB3CqDS6h0qs17Vzy-tuUDcx7IKBTNup/s320/IMG_3294.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317580282461168818" /></a><br />What if I lived out my walk for Christ with the same principles that I ran the marathon? What if every time I got to a new place with Him, I stopped to reflect and do a little dance? Sometimes I wonder if I really grasp the idea that Jesus Christ is running the race next to me, If I really understand that he is keeping my steady pace for me so that I won't burn out before the finish line. My Heavenly Father is singing my cadence and keeping me in step. I so badly want that "good and faithful servant" at the end of my Marathon, so for now, I will keep on keeping on. One day at a time, One mile at a time, One step at a time.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-68567626577019436732009-03-13T03:13:00.000-07:002011-09-24T23:32:23.866-07:00Colon Finale/Change your life"I hate my job." "I'm too fat." "I need to go on a diet." "I wish I could change this, I wish I could change that." How many freaking times a day do we hear people saying crap like this? ALL stinkin' day. There IS a beautiful thing to being a human being, we can change at any time we want. Yes, at ANY time. How about if you look in the mirror for twenty minutes every morning and try on fifteen different outfits just to see which one can hide your Whopper from last night best, maybe you should re-think eating it. Don't get me wrong, if you like some pudge, more power to you, I'm simply speaking to those that whine about it all day. I have a suggestion, take your pie-hole, stuff some fresh vegetables in it and spend that $10 bucks a day that you spend on fast food on a gym membership. Come on people, is it really that hard??? If you hate your job and you find yourself complaining about your boss all day, chances are, he doesn't really like you either, so go find yourself a new job where you can actually take pride in what you do. Angry because you didn't get a pay raise this year? Well, your boss is still angry because he has to pay 50% more in taxes (thanks Mr. President.) and still pay your whining A star star. Nobody cares about your complaints except for the guy next to you at work who wants to complain too. Get off your lazy gluteus maximus, own up to your own choices, and change your way of life. <br /><br /><br />Colon Cleanser:<br />I know you all are dying to know how my colon is doing. It's doing just great! The final outcome of my ten day excursion was quite lovely. I feel amazing, lost 15.8lbs, and am a healthier me! The first few days sucked, but after the hunger pangs go away it's easier to say no to things. I started to crave the concoction instead of dread it. My stomach has definitely shrank. I ate two strawberries and half a banana and I thought I was going to explode. Getting back into eating is definitely something that needs to be done slowly. Overall, I highly recommend this if you're looking to clean out your insides. It was well worth the sacrifice.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-62179243266048712972009-03-07T13:33:00.000-08:002011-09-24T23:32:23.884-07:00Colon Cleanser...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6FaNVVre0a5im2sJuiFixlR5Rcf51xuzAqlnEEvSlPBgiVm4L7oUxTdKyjAjizbwCaHzs5_dmcMJ2snHQ_Vtsc9aq0cvNp8VtvbHli0ZuTPwtzc4AOPh_yt0IDx2znvuOyUP3ioYOKdB5/s1600-h/0307091631.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6FaNVVre0a5im2sJuiFixlR5Rcf51xuzAqlnEEvSlPBgiVm4L7oUxTdKyjAjizbwCaHzs5_dmcMJ2snHQ_Vtsc9aq0cvNp8VtvbHli0ZuTPwtzc4AOPh_yt0IDx2znvuOyUP3ioYOKdB5/s400/0307091631.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310563869844099634" /></a><br />Yes, I have embarked upon the unspeakable journey of eating only one thing for ten days. I suppose it sounds crazy to many people, but rumor has it the feeling after doing a colon cleanser is well worth the sacrifice. The particular colon cleanser that I chose to do is the Lemonade Master Cleanser. Dang doesn't that just sound so professional? It's actually really simple; 1/2 lemon, 2TBSP Grade B Organic Maple Syrup, 1/10 tsp Cayenne Pepper, 12 oz Purified Water. That's it. Drink that bad boy 6-12 times a day along with as much water as you want. (No, you cannot eat!) I'm currently on day 6. Only 4 more to go! I was going to post a picture of my, ahem, waste product, but I decided some people might get offended... although, this is MY blog, so I'm not sure why I'm worried about other people... Anyway, back to the story, I know you all are dying to know whether I've been having diarrhea for 6 days. Nope. I sure haven't. Although, just in the last day, I've started seeing the toxins/oils pass. Yes, I know you are probably grossed out by now, but what I'm trying to get across here is that this really does work. I will refrain from going any deeper, but if you should desire to know more, I will be more than happy to tell you all the nitty gritty details. 8+) Days one and two were the most difficult to get through, after that it's pretty smooth sailing minus the fact that you often have to sit and watch people eat real food. At first the concoction was hard for me to choke down, now I actually crave it. In fact, I think I'm going to get a glass right now...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-52015315093659034242009-02-03T14:10:00.000-08:002011-09-24T23:32:23.916-07:00A Year in Eternity...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIfNJ1U6HV1DxoYUZrTzbyXFcOKkCETZvIHjYqVdIXkvuodX2Q9dRPhTvWyIhIgwjBC316GUg2bZZxey0dteh5bQ7Pcwd1LoPkXDA-CMofRhX3zhjZM-K30AZJX_yFP_P_T5CPT-KvcDW8/s1600-h/0202091825.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIfNJ1U6HV1DxoYUZrTzbyXFcOKkCETZvIHjYqVdIXkvuodX2Q9dRPhTvWyIhIgwjBC316GUg2bZZxey0dteh5bQ7Pcwd1LoPkXDA-CMofRhX3zhjZM-K30AZJX_yFP_P_T5CPT-KvcDW8/s400/0202091825.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298699461520927938" /></a><br />Yesterday marked one year since Jared died. It's funny how we think of a year as 365 days... or five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. What does one year feel like in heaven? Time is such a weird concept. I am so structured around it, that the thought of not having it blows my mind. No, literally, if I think about it too hard, I'm pretty sure I would get a headache. I suppose that's the beauty of it. I wonder what it must be like to worship Jesus. I wonder what music sounds like in Heaven. I think everyone probably sings on key and harmonizes without fault. The drummer is always on beat and the pianist never misses a note. When I think about not seeing Jareba for the rest of my life, it makes my heart ache. However, something tells me that by the time we get to heaven, it'll be like we've never been apart. My tears are only a selfish desire to have my friend again, for he is dancing with Jesus!<br /><br />Alive in Christ.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-85083145403551144582009-01-12T18:15:00.000-08:002011-09-24T23:32:23.933-07:00Mr. OCD<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdR15Gz7rGC2YkEuXqoorkSCPyru-Gh3uM0KtXM6SRUEJGzubCxZ8LL0USFx_k-P7pzZNFtiCQRAZmWlVVgYt7UVI86tcolyBwl2w7L3rPRA3S6ex1wYlnsQOc9kYVontjZ8JcQ1FT8In/s1600-h/0104091447.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNdR15Gz7rGC2YkEuXqoorkSCPyru-Gh3uM0KtXM6SRUEJGzubCxZ8LL0USFx_k-P7pzZNFtiCQRAZmWlVVgYt7UVI86tcolyBwl2w7L3rPRA3S6ex1wYlnsQOc9kYVontjZ8JcQ1FT8In/s400/0104091447.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290600745886919906" /></a><br />I was pretty sure this story deserved to not only be documented but also blogged. Therefore I present to you: OCD Guy. <br />Well, there I was minding my own pea-picking business on a small aircraft headed for South Carolina. Mind you, this is one of those amazing air crafts they decided to invent with only four seats across, and seventeen back, just to insure you feel the ride. I was pretty proud of myself for having a rather uneventful/boring travel home until this episode. United Airlines so graciously gave me the seat I requested against the window. (I like the idea of leaning against an aircraft rather than being that annoying person who awkwardly falls asleep on a stranger's shoulder.) I sat down and prepared for my next nap. Now, I must update you that at this point in time I had had a cold off and on for the last three weeks and was still suffering mildly from a cough. A nice looking man in his late twenties/early thirties sat down beside me. I coughed a couple of times. (I was careful to turn my head towards the window and stuff my face in my shirt sleeve so as not to spread my germs.) I think I coughed twice MAYBE three times and the gentleman next to me started to pointedly shift away from me and lean into the aisle. I found it slightly odd so I thought I'd strike up a conversation to avoid the awkwardness. Unfortunately, he didn't want to engage in any formalities and he made it clear by turning away and ignoring my 'hello'. What happened next is still baffling in my mind. He reached into his bag and pulled out a SURGICAL MASK, donned it, looked at me, made EYE CONTACT, and turned back to the aisle. I was like, "Dang, anything else?!?" I knew that this was my opportunity of a lifetime and that I must have proof of this amazing moment. Thus, the picture was taken discretely as I pretended to text on my phone and snapped this photograph of Mr. OCD. <br />I guess in retrospect I can't blame him as I was diagnosed with strep throat and the flu a couple days later. In fact, maybe he's psychic and saw into the future. Hmm....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6136462180215186901.post-45085231765987337172008-12-22T02:46:00.000-08:002011-09-24T23:32:23.951-07:00Flying in December...Well, tonight/today/yesterday I had my very own "Home Alone" experience. I always wondered what happened to people when their flights got cancelled. I'd never had it happen to me. Oh, we've all had our share of "delayed" flights, but I've never had the big red letters flashing "Cancelled, Cancelled, Cancelled" in my face. It's amazing how that one word can produce so much emotion. Of course there was the initial thought to bawl my eyes out. However, seeing that I'm a soldier now, I have to keep those tear ducts in check. The secondary emotions included rage, anger, disbelief, annoyance, and this antsy feeling that I had to figure something out RIGHT AWAY. I walked with the other couple hundred people to stand in line at the United Customer service desk. Now, this is the part in Home Alone when the mom realizes she left the kid and she's standing at the counter begging for any flight in the direction of home. Every person in line had their own "kid" at home. After standing there for a half an hour, one of the employees came out to inform the line of 500+ people that if their destination was Portland, they would have to step aside, they wouldn't be "dealt with" at this time. I thought about filing an EO complaint. Apparently there were no flights remotely open until Christmas Day, and even then it was slim to none. Overbooked flights with the capacity of 66 passengers with 72 people on standby. Yikes. I ended up on the phone with a customer service rep. (Well, I was on hold for 40 minutes before I actually got to talk to her...) She mentioned several flights and promptly followed it with, "Oh, nope, that one's full too." During our conversation I walked up and down the terminal looking at where flights were headed. I saw one for San Francisco that was doing their final boarding call. I walked up to the counter and listened to the man in front of me. He had a party of three and the United rep informed him she only had ONE seat left. He turned away defeated and I stepped up. I told her I wasn't suppose to be going to San Fran, but I HAD to PLEASE get out of Chicago and find a way West. She hesitated for a moment and then looked up and said, "Welcome aboard." This was quite a joyous moment for me. I would have done ANYTHING to get away from Chicago. Lines and lines of hundreds of people being told that they would be spending their Christmas in an airport terminal. Merry Christmas. <br />My arrival in San Francisco was a relief. Just the knowledge that if push came to shove, I could actually drive home, was a great feeling. My hope was to catch a standby flight to Eugene as PDX was still closed. I waited through three flights to Eugene. Unfortunately the flights held 50 passengers and there were almost 90 on the standby list. I was listed as number 50 - Let's just say the odds were not in my favor. I met some friends in the airport who were in the same boat I was in and were thinking about driving. I saw a flight going to Medford that only had 11 people on standby. (Hey, that's way better odds than 90+) They were in their final boarding call stage. I walked up to the counter and asked the rep if it would benefit me to take myself off the Eugene list and put myself on the Medford standby list. (you can only be on one standby list) He said it might. I took his optimism and waited as three names were called off before mine. None of them showed up - thus I got - once again - the last seat on the plane. Dang. You think I have good luck? Nah, I think Jesus just wanted to help me out. I definitely attribute being able to get anywhere, especially out of Chicago, to my God above. <br />Along the lines of dedicated, I have the most amazing parents. I called them to tell them I had just miraculously got on the Medford flight - their response was, I'll head out the door now. I write this blog as I sit waiting my father's arrival. He should be here in about 30 minutes. I am so very blessed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1