Passion for Cushion.

Is it weird that I find great joy in browsing through various wedding blogs?
Looking at all of the wedding photography makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and inspired inside.
I'm not sure if it's because I'm getting ideas for my own future wedding, or because I'm getting ideas for my photography. Maybe both.

I think over all, I just have this strange passion for weddings.

I love everything about them, I'm not sure why.

Most likely because they're so beautiful.

I have another wedding to photograph this upcoming December, and I'm totally excited for it.
Especially after I look through some of the work that other photographers have done, because I get all of sorts of new ideas that I want to try out.

Hopefully I can pull them off though.

One thing I really want to learn is how to get that typical glowing effect that most of the photos have. Like all the photographs of the tables, decorations, and people were taken in heaven, and everyone looks all radiant and glowy. Like angels in heels.

Here's a example of what I mean:

Beautiful. :)
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*Side note: If you're wondering what this title is all about, let me explain:

So originally I was planning to name this entry "Passion for ____" & fill in the blank with a word that fit the basic theme that I wrote about, so I was looking for a good discriptive word to ryhme with "Passion", and I found some ridiculous results on this website that I just had to share with you. I enjoyed them so much that I decided to keep my idea anyway and use one of the words that they provided.


"Q: What rhymes with passion and devotion?
A: Words that rhyme with passion are: action, allen, beckon, cotton & cushion. Devotion rhymes with vision, wooden & women. "

Is it just me, or does passion most certainly not rhyme with allen? Or any of those other words for that matter? & The response to devotion is no better. Devotion and wooden?

If someone uses this website to help write a poem or something, especially if they don't know English that well, it's all going to be a major fail.
I find amusement in things like this.

*Note to self: Never ask fundamental questions on Chacha.com.

Yellow Modelo.

It's been a while since I've updated this thing.
Many interesting things have happened since my last entry... I'm just not quite sure where to start.

First off, I had my first car wreck.

On my second day of school.

Tuesday, August 31st.

Don't get too excited, it's not even worthy to be called a car wreck.
It's actually quite an embarrassment to even call it anything descriptive because everything seems overly justified.

When you say that you got into an accident, or a car crash, or wreck, people get this horrible image in their minds of pulverized metal, glass, ambulances, rubber-neckers and lots of blood and guts.

Well, maybe that's just me. But I digress.

My "accident" was so far from this mental image that I don't even know what to call it.

I think it's more like an "oops."

Well anyway, my oops happened in the parking lot of my school/work, and I was running late and in a hurry to find a decent parking space so it wouldn't take even more time to walk to my office.
Low and behold, I find this grand parking space near the front of the lot, between a big yellow truck and some other little beat up car.
As I'm turning left into the spot, I am carefully assessing each side of my car to make sure that I am free and clear to go all the way in.

This is where it gets fuzzy.

Next thing I know, I hear a big BOOM, say a well-fitting phrase, and slam on the breaks. Both cars are rocking and my car comes to a complete stop. I sit there quietly for a pace or two.

Have you ever been in that confused mental state of not knowing what just happened, if it really happened, or if your just in a bad dream? In other words, you're in total disbelief. Yeah? Well that's where I was at this particular moment in time.

After a minute or two of trying to wake up from this horrible nightmare I was having, I soon realized that I did indeed hit a big, tall, expensive, yellow truck. One that looked to be owned by someone who was big, tall, and scary. & it was the only oddly-colored car in the entire lot. My favorite color. Go figure.

I backed out and nervously re parked so I could pull out my cell phone and call my boss to let her know why I was late. As my luck turns out, no one is answering the phone.
Most likely because I'm supposed to be there answering it.
-Mental head slap-
So unwillingly, I get out to assess the damage.

One big fat dent in the rear panel of the truck.

Way too big of a dent to look like I just bumped it while parking.
It looked more like I had just hit it a little, freaked out, and accidentally slammed the gas petal.

I begin to ponder the idea of just leaving and pretending like nothing happened, but then my conscious kicked in and I knew that I had to at least leave my information.

Besides, there were probably witnesses.

To calm down I decided to call my boyfriend because he has always had that special talent to make me feel better when I'm freaking out.
I knew his class had just started, but I was hoping that by some miracle he would answer... but I got his voicemail.
So I as I walked to my work to talk to my boss, I called my mom to see what she wants me to do.

"Hello?"
"Hi mom."
"Hi."
"I'm at school, but when I was trying to park I kind of, um... Hit someone."
"You hit someone?"
"Yes."
-silence-
"Are they there? Did you talk to them?"
"No, the car was parked. I was turning in, I miss-judged and I hit them. What do I do?"
"Hold on, talk to your dad."
"Okay."
"Hey Nita, what's up?"
"Hi dad. Um... I was pulling into a parking space at school and I hit a truck."
"What?! WHERE ARE YOU?"
"Dad! I'm at school!"
"Sheeze!"
(Then I think he said a whole bunch of angry things, but I don't remember.)
"Dad, can you stop being mean and just tell me what to do?"
"I don't know!"
"You don't know what I should do?! Put mom back on."
Then I hear my mom's voice again, calm as ever.
"Mom, why did you give the phone to him, he's being all mean and doesn't even know what he wants me to do."
"Well I don't know... But you need to leave your information. Is the hit bad?"
"I put a dent  in the back left panel."
"Is your car damaged?"
"Hard to tell. Its so screwed up anyway that I can't tell the difference. I think I might have some scrapes."
"Okay, well get the make, model, and licence plate number of the car, and write it down. Then leave your insurance information and put it in the windshield."
"Okay, I'll do all of that and go talk to my boss then I'll call you back."
"Okay."

So I go talk to my boss, then I go back to my car to do all of that information business. & because I'm trying not to draw attention to myself and look insane because I am inspecting some random truck in the school parking lot, I try to do as much as I can in my car by looking out through my windows, every once in a while getting out to get some more information (Licence plate #, etc.) and then jumping back in my car to write it down.

Which I now realized looked much more insane than if I would have done the alternative. 

Then I call my mom back to inform her of my progress, and she told me that I did good, but now she wants me to go to the office and track down the owner of the truck. (!)

First off, the office isn't going to know whose truck it is. They don't keep records of whose vehicle belongs to who.
Secondly, I do NOT want to talk to this person.

"Anita, you just hit some one's car. You have to talk to them!"
"Mom, that's why I left all of my information. So I don't have to talk to them."
"Yes you do! Maybe they won't want to do anything about it and our insurance won't go up!"
"Mom, they're going to want to do something about it. I just bashed in the back of their truck with my car, why wouldn't they want to get it fixed?"
"Anita, GO TO THE OFFICE AND GET THE INFORMATION TO TALK TO THEM."
"Fine. Bye."

I get off the phone and re park my car in a spot that's far from the damaged truck.

 "I don't want them to know it's me, and besides, maybe they'll get mad and key my car or something. Angry people do scary things." I rationalized, then got out and reluctantly began to walk to the Student Center office.


I decide text Sergey and ask him if there's any way that he can call me right now, and almost immediately his photo pops up on my phone along with his personalized ring tone.

"Hey you, what's up?"
"Sorry, were you in class?"
"Yeah, but I left to call you."
"I'm sorry, I just need someone to calm me down."
"Why, what happened?"
-whiny voice- "I was in a hurry to get to work and when I was trying to park I... hit some one's truck."
"Are you serious?"
"Yep."
"Babe."
"I know. And now my mom wants me to go to the office and try to contact the person, but I don't think they can, and besides, I really don't want to talk to them."
"Yeah, they aren't going to be able to do that."
"Well I have to still try or else she'll be mad at me."
"Do you want me to go with you? I can leave, the professor's teaching us stuff I kind of know already anyway."
"You would do that?"
"Of course I would babe, I want to be there for you."
"Okay, thanks love."
"Alright, give me ten minutes."

A little while later he comes and finds me in the library and gives me a much-needed hug. Then we decide that our best option is to call security so they can write up a report on it, so we go to one of the overly-happy Secretaries and Sergey asks if she can call security. "You need security?!" She asks wide-eyed and panic-stricken, "Well yeah, my girlfriend just got into an accident and she needs to report it."

I cringe. I wish we didn't have to talk out loud to communicate sometimes. Life would be so much better if we could telecommunicate the things we don't want other people to hear.

 "Oh, okay sure!" She says, sounding relieved. She picks up the phone to dial, and while it's ringing she says to me, "what an awful way to start off the day!" I solemnly nod my head. Then I guess someone she knew had answered the phone and she says, "Oh hello! Yes, this is Iris! How are you? I'm doing very well, thank you!" Sergey and I look at each other with raised eyebrows. After a few more seconds of friendly conversation Iris gets down to business, "Well I am calling because I have a student here who hit a parked car in the parking lot and she needs security to come down and write a report." A few people in the library turn their heads our way (cringe), then she hangs up. "They should be here soon, you can go ahead and wait in the lobby. Don't worry honey, it will all be taken care of." I thank her, then we head off into the lobby to await the arrival of one of the security guards.

10 minutes later, through the window we see a scruffy-looking guy pull up on a bicycle in a police-styled uniform and a helmet, and he gloriously trots up the stairs and into the library. He looks lost, so I do the universal "over here!" wave with both hands, recognition hits, and he comes over.

"So, you hit a parked car in the parking lot?"

Cringe. Everyone likes to say this basic sentence very loudly.

& This is a library, mind you.

"Yes..."
"Oh no!" He puts his hands to his face, "What happened?"
I told him my story.
"Oh okay, so did you leave your information? Like your phone number?"
"Well yes, I didn't leave my phone number though."
His eyes got big. "You didn't leave your phone number?!"
"Well, I left my insurance phone number because my mom said not to leave mine." -Nervous giggle-
The uniform is intimidating.
"Oh! Okay. You did everything right then!"
"Wait... I did? Really? Oh okay... So what do I do now? Don't you guys write up a report or something?"
"No, there's nothing that we can really do. You did all the right things, so you're good."
"Oh okay, so that's it?"
"That's it!"
"Well thank you."
"No problem, have yourself a good day!"

Several weeks go by and I don't see the yellow truck. We assumed that they didn't want it getting any more messed up so they probably are using another car at the moment.

But then just last week my best friend, Natasha, spots it, dent and all it's glory, and in the vehicle is a big, dark, very strong-looking guy. I don't know if he was Mexican or Samoan because we only saw the back of his head, but even then he looked scary. & that's saying something.
I thanked God a million times that I never had to encounter him.
If I did, I might not have been alive today to tell you the story.
I could have been his lunch that day...

That wouldn't have been so lovely.
Anyway, that's the story of my oops that I've been dying to tell you all.
Now I must go from one job to the other because at 12pm I work on the other campus.
If anything interesting happens between point A and point B I shall write another entry and tell you all about it.
:)

Sincerely, Yours Truly

Daddy's girl.

I love my dad.

He makes me laugh without even knowing it sometimes.
I bet you that if I spent more time with him I could probably write a whole blog just about the funny things he does.

The other day I was eating at the kitchen table before work, and my dad passes through the kitchen and heads to the garage (his "man" place), and then stops and looks around at the messy counters. "Is she still on strike? She's been on strike for weeks and I don't think she's ever going to get off it."  I laugh, "who, mom?" "Yeah, I think she's joining the Union!" Then his serious face curves into a smile, and begins to laugh.
My dad and his history jokes... That one wasn't even politically correct. haha.
Of course, my mother is most definitely not on strike regarding keeping the kitchen clean, it's just my father's humor to say so.
In all honesty, the kitchen's really my job.
I just have been busy lately with work and my night class... Not that that is an excuse.
Anyway, I digress.

About a month ago we installed a brand new garage door, one which has a pretty little window all along the top of it. This is very exciting for my dad, considering we've had a broken electric one for several years that only opened up half way (by hand), and if it did open up all the way it would produce a thunderous sound and a form a gigantic dent that could only be relieved by a strong man tugging downward on the bottom of the door (AKA my dad). Anyway. So now that we have this brand new garage door, and he has been super excited about the window at the top.
One day I come out into the garage to see him standing in the dark on a plastic chair and peering out into the neighborhood. "Dad, what are you doing?" I ask. "I'm spying! Anita, this is so neat! Watch, I can see all down the street both ways and I don't even have to turn my head!" His stiff body, with his arms at his sides, begins to pivot from side to side while looking out the window and making this foghorn sound. "see?"
Then he starts to laugh at his own joke.

I said all that to say this: (Back to the day when he announces that my mother is on a kitchen-cleaning strike)
After I eat, I decide to go out into the garage to see what my father is doing this time. & Not surprisingly, I see him elevated on the same black plastic chair with no shirt peering out through the little window again. "I've joined the neighborhood watch, and now it's my turn." He says, binoculars in hand.
We have no neighborhood watch. If we do, he's the only one watching. Through that little window at the top of the garage door.
"Dad you're crazy."
"What?"
I laugh, close the door and go back to eating.
When it's time for me to go to work, I go out to my car, and as I do, I pass the garage door and look up at the window to see that he's still standing up there. & He's frantically waving to me.
I can't help but smile.
My dad is a wierdo.
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As my little brother gets older, I am seeing more and more of my dad in him. Mostly in attitude, and the way that he handles situations. Especially the stressful ones. I find it amusing, personally. My dad has always been the type to get angry and frowny when he's (overly) worried about something, which happens very easily if it concerns his family or our pets.
Yesterday our dog Suzy got a foxtail stuck in her nose, and she was sneezing over and over again.
If you know anything about foxtails, they can do serious damage if they get in an animals eyes, nose, ears, or even if they get swallowed. (Our old dog became deaf because one got into his eardrum).

So Suzy is sneezing and sneezing, and my brother is getting (overly) worried. Then I hear my dad come running out of his room and down the hallway (he was sleeping), "What's wrong?" he asks, frantically. My brother says all sorrowful, "Suzy has a foxtail in her nose." "Aww sheeze!" My dad exclaims angrily and stomps into his garage. My mom asks if I can take her to the vet, but I have to go to work, so I go into the garage to see exactly what I expected: My sad sitting in his chair, in the semi-dark, face all mad and frowny. "Dad, I can't take Suzy because I have to go to work. Can you take her?" -silence- "Okay.." I say as I shut the door.

Best to leave the angry alone.

I walk back through the kitchen and into the living room, where I see my brother, holding the chronically sneezing Suzy, face all mad and frowny. Just like dad. "This is just great," he says, "now she's going to die just because of those stupid foxtails!"
After a while, Suzy gets the foxtail out on her own, and is standing in the middle of the living room looking at us like nothing happened. "You think she got it?" Dad asks my mom. "Yeah, I think she did."
Then the frowny face goes away, and he starts talking to Suzy in a silly semi-high pitched voice as he shakes his finger at her, "You caused all of that because you don't listen to me when I tell you to get out of the foxtails SuSu! (her nickname) You keep trying to go after that rat, and you just don't listen to me. You see? Now look at what you've done. Got us all worried and everything. You leave that rat alone!"
Suzy stares blankly at my dad and blinks a few times.
We all laugh. Even though my father gets mad and frowny so easliy, he can get out of it fairly easily too.
I just hope my little brother develops that part of the personality as well. :P

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Some of my favorite memories involve the special little times with my dad. I never really got to see him much because he worked the night shift at the factory, so whenever I did spend time with him I enjoyed every moment of it. I think we both did.
It was so exciting when my dad would be getting ready to go to the store or gas station and ask, "Nita, do you want to go with me?" I would of course accept, and sprint to my bedroom to get my shoes. On the drive there we would talk and laugh about things, or we would just enjoy listening to christian music on the radio and talk about how great or beautiful a particular song is. My dad and I always have had the same taste in music, so it's something that really brings us together. I love that.
When we would arrive at the store a quick five minutes later, he would always offer to buy me a candy.
Growing up, my parents never had enough money to always buy EVERYTHING that we needed, but somehow, my dad always had the money to buy me a candy. As a kid I remember wondering if he had some kind of magical wallet or secret bank account or something, that would always produce the funds to buy his kids a sweet treat.
Now I know that he just can't resist a cute face, no matter what his finances were.
Even now I get excited if he invites me to go to the store with him. I love spending that time together during that short car ride to the store, mostly because it's a very rare and special "us" time.
And yes, he still offers to buy me a candy.
I love my dad.
He knows how to make you feel special even though he doesn't know it.

You are Beautiful, No Matter What They Say.

"You are beautiful no matter what they say
Words can't bring you down
You are beautiful in every single way
Yes, words can't bring you down
Don't you bring me down today..."

Although since my life has changed and I don't listen to Christina Aguilera anymore, she does have a good message within the lyrics of her song "Beautiful". I've been wanting to write a entry about this topic for a long while now, but I just haven't gotten around to it. This subject is very dear to my heart, and really changed my outlook on several things, one of those being how I feel about myself.

Our generation is probably the most superficial generation that has ever lived, and many people suffer because of this.

"You need this to be beautiful, you have to look like this to be attractive, this is the ideal image and if you don't fit it, you're not good enough."

You know what I mean.
Odds are that you've even experienced the feeling of not being good enough.

& You've probably even read a million things about this subject, and it's most likely old news. But please continue reading. This entry is so much more than just telling you that you're beautiful just the way you are and expecting you to believe it.

If you're like me and every other self-critical woman on the face of this planet, you know that you have several aspects of yourself that you don't like, or "could be better."

These imperfections are what we call our "flaws".

The things we see as flaws could be anything: Thin hair, curly hair, big nose, thin lips, crooked teeth, ears that stick out, too tall, too short, short eyelashes, fuzzy eyebrows, freckles, blond hair, brown hair, red hair, small hands, big hands, long toes, you name it. I have several of my own that I complain about. It's so easy to see what's wrong with you when you compare yourself to somebody else. (Which is a dangerous thing, because comparison can cause jealousy to rear its ugly head and allow sin in.)

Now, listen this:
As you may or may not know, God, the maker of the entire universe, also took the time to make you and Me. (*And in His very own image!) He designed every single aspect of us, right down to the number of hairs on our heads and the number of cells that make up our bodies.

Now these "flaws" that we have?

If you know anything about God, you must know that He doesn't make mistakes.

He does everything according to exactly how he wants it, and everything he does, he does perfectly.
What does this mean?
You are beautiful.
You are perfect.
There isn't anyone else that can make you any better than God can, so you're the best of the best!
& The only thing that will tell you that you're not, are the people of this world; who make mistakes, who mess up, who aren't perfect.
And this world fades away into nothing.
Everything this world tells us about beauty is all lies.

You don't need to be thin to be beautiful, you don't need straight hair, or blue eyes, or long legs, or arched eyebrows, or small feet, or anything.

Originality is beauty. Natural is beautiful. You are beautiful. Because God personally designed you.

Try avoiding all of those awful things like magazines and TV shows that tell you that you're not good enough, or that guys will only think you're beautiful if you fit a certain standard.
The truth is, the good guys will like you for what you are.
I promise.

Although I sometimes still find myself criticizing the aspects of me that I don't like, the thought of being perfect in actuality always brings me back to feeling happy. It keeps me grounded, and also keeps me from spending money and wasting my time. We're all pretty for free! :D

Love you, you beauties!

Sincerely,
Yours Truly

"Stupid is as Stupid does." - Forrest Gump

I haven't had such a good day today.

Maybe that's an understatement.

Today was a bad day.
Well, up until 2:30pm, anyway.

I made a series of very dumb choices today, which is the reason for this not-so-grand day of mine.

Last night, as you all know, was July 4th, and it was a good night full of food and fiery fun.
I didn't go to bed until late in the night--er, early in the morning, & then had to get up today at 8:30am for a photo shoot with a girl that I went to high school with two years ago.

Getting up? Not easy. But besides the fact, I dragged myself out of bed, said a quick prayer, and got dressed. Then I received a text message from my, (I guess you'd say) "Client," letting me know that she and her friend were going to be about 15 minutes late--which was completely fine with me, because I had wasted about 15 minutes sleepily staring at my dresser earlier on before forcing myself to get up and going, and so now I could really use the extra time.

I arrived at Starbucks at 10:15am, and sat at an empty table at the side of the crowded cafe. After a few minutes of anxiously staring at the Starbucks entrance anticipating their arrival, I received another text message telling me that they were there, but had to get gas at the gas station. Happy that they at least were keeping me updated, I waited patiently.

I bet you're thinking that I got stood up.
If not, several of the Starbucks regulars thought so.

But the girls arrived 15-20 minutes later, which was an agonizingly long time to be sitting there by yourself while people gazed in your direction with apologetic looks.

Anyway, the three of us decided that we were going to go to take photos in the country side of our town, at a place that my friends and I had discovered on Friday while aimlessly driving around looking for good photographing spots. The thing is, when my friends and I went on this little road trip, I wasn't driving. Nor was I paying full attention to how to get there. I thought I was, but  apparently I wasn't.

Taking people that hired you to a place that you only have half of the directions for? Dumb choice.

So I get in my car, the girls get in their car, and they follow me out into the boonies. I am all confident and excited about the photos that we are about to take, patting myself on the back for having such a spectacular idea. But then my confidence fades into panic as I begin realize that things no longer look familiar, and I suddenly have no idea where I'm going.
"It's got to be around here somewhere," I thought. So I keep driving. Next thing I know, I'm turning right onto some highway and I have no idea where it leads to, or if there's even an exit that I'll be able to find my way back from.

& as luck may have it, there wasn't an exit for about two or three miles.

And this whole time these poor girls in back of me think that I know what I'm doing, or where I'm going. Some photographer, hm?

Eventually we come to this two way looking exit which I pull off on to, open my window, and yell to the girls with a very embarrassed and apologetic undertone that I am really, really, really sorry, but we have to go back because I can't find the place I was looking for. They were very nice about it, and told me that it was okay (but I'm convinced that they think I am insane). Then we flip a U-ey.
On the Highway.
Dangerous?
Probably.

But I prayed this morning.

So we drive back the way that we came, and we arrive to the place that I recognize as where I first turned onto the highway. Only, it looks like you can't turn off the highway onto that street. But last minute I realize that I actually CAN turn onto it, so I make the sharpest left turn in the history of left turns. ---Which was almost another U-ey.

Another dumb choice.

& Because of this rash decision, the girls behind me are forced to make the same extreme left turn, which made me feel awful and embarrassed, and like they might think that I actually brought them all the way out to the boonies just to murder them where no one could hear, because I don't seem professional at all and I'm probably not even a real photographer. Which was not my intent, I promise.

Once we made the turn, we drove all the way back down the street that we were formerly driving on and I  began to pray that there would be a nice place to stop off at, that way I didn't waste these people's time and (all of their) gas. Then I remembered: earlier on, on the way up, I had seen a slope with patches of grass and pretty flowers and a two small swampy ponds that almost looked pretty, so I settled with stopping there. Once the lush grassland appearred, we pulled over and parked on the sloped side of the two-way street.
Dangerous? Probably.

But like I said, I prayed this morning.

We got out, ran across the street, and took several hundreds of photos amongst the pretty flowers and near the swampy water. Then it got really hot. I mean, really hot, & we spotted some shade a few hundred yards away near two rickety looking houses. As we were approaching this little nestle of trees, we saw in the doorway of one of the rickety looking houses, two middle-aged Mexican men, who were whistling and catcalling at us. (Disgusting.) But we quickly walked further down, avoiding them, and took several photos around the trees.  Suddenly we heard the sound of rustling gravel directly behind us, and a old car slowly drove by, then stopped, and began to reverse.
My stomach felt like it was doing some sort of crazy gymnastics routine inside my abodomen.
The car was some sort of faded red Cadillac that was apparent to have had owners who weren't too kind to it, and inside was an older Mexican man with a cowboy hat, and a passenger whose face I couldn't see. The driver had a greasy aura to him, in manner and appearance, and was softly (creepily) saying "Come on baby, get in. Come on." I got my cell phone out just in case in the next few seconds I would need to make an emergency call, and the girls told him "No" and to leave, but he was stagnant and continued to stare at us like he was contemplating about what he should do next.
All the possibilities about what could happen to us in the next few minutes flashed through my mind and I started to feel afraid, but relied on God to keep us safe. Then I told the guy, "WE SAID NO. GOODBYE." And with that, he gave us a frustrated look, and slowly drove away.
Whew.
The gymnastics routine came to an end.

But, because we were feeling scared, and also because we saw a van driving our way and it stopped to talk to the guys in the red Cadillac, we decided to forget all of this countryside-photos business and just finish taking pictures at the park by my house. So we hurriedly walked towards the car when we realized how far we had actually strayed from it. Our two cars looked like tiny little beetles on the side of the road, and I was really regretting this whole idea. Three girls alone in the boonies? Dumb. Dumb. Dumb choice. What was I thinking?!

To make the walk just a little big shorter, I suggested that we walk across the tiny dirt path that separated the two swampy lagoons.

Yet, as you may speculate, was another dumb decision.

Me and my white strappy wedge sandals went first, and everything seemed dandy. The dirt wasn't too muddy, and we'd be at the cars just a little bit quicker.
But then my next step: SQUISH.
Right into pure, manure-textured swamp mud.
All the way up to my ankles and so much more.

And why did I decide to wear strappy white wedges to a countryside photo shoot?

Dumb choice # 342.

& As you may have guessed it, we ended up having to go all the way around anyway.

Three girls walking down a country road, two that look like models, and one whose short and looks to have two horse hooves for feet.

50 honks, 23 rubber-neckers and 400 hormone-enraged teen aged boy gawks later, we arrived at our cars and drove to the park where we finished our shoot. Muddy feet and all.

& all of that fuel they bought before our meeting? Scattered about the Californian country side, along with my dignity.

When I got home, I immediately ran inside, tossed the shoes, washed my feet, grabbed some baby carrots and was on my way to work, to which I was running late. (It takes about 45 minutes to get there, 30 if you speed). On my way out, my mom says "Are you sure you have to work today? Sometimes schools give the day after the 4th of July off." But I dismiss this, and tell her that they don't give luxuries like that to junior college students. So I get in my car and as I'm driving, I'm nervously munching on my carrots praying that I get to work on time. And I do, praise God.
But something looks off. Where are all the cars? I shrug my shoulders and park with the small cluster of cars that are there, and I head down the steps to the building that I work in.
Doors locked, all lights are off.
Are you kidding me?
No work today.
Even now, five hours later, I still don't know what the deal is. Really? They don't give us a spring break, which is a NORMAL vacation to have, sometimes they don't even give us certain holidays off, but they give us the day after 4th of July off? This is craziness.

Anyway, frustrated and upset, I call my boyfriend and hope that by some miracle he hasn't gone to work yet (it was 2pm and he usually goes to work at 7 or 8am) because I would have felt even worse if I had to turn around and just drive that long way back home.
And guess what? He's actually home!!!
So I went over to see him, thrilled that this trip hasn't been a complete waste of time and gas. Yay.

Funny thing is, he's always there like this when I need him. Whether he knows it or not. Every time my class has been cancelled or something like this happens, when he's typically not supposed to be home, he is. Whether he's running late, or he just decided not to go to work that day. It just always seems to work out, lucky for me.

This is the part of the day that puts my bad day streak to an end. Thankfully.

Thank you Lord for keeping us safe through it all!

After telling him my horrific story, we had tea together, and then he went off to work and I went home.
I love that about our relationship, sometimes it's so simple.
I'm having a bad day, I go see him, he makes me laugh, we have tea, and I go home feeling completely happy.
It's nice. :)
But I won't bore you with this mushy gushy stuff.

I better go tend to those shoes.

Hope you all are having happy days of good choices.

Sincerely,
Yours Truly

Children of a King

This past week has been a roller coaster of a ride for me, with steep, inspirational and encouraging climbs to the top of the incline, and ominous, discouraging, descents to the bottom. All attributed to me, of course. I find it amazing how much control we actually have over how we feel and what we think, yet, we still allow ourselves to feel down at times, and so easily, too. When I begin to think about this control that we have over ourselves, it's like a little light bulb goes on over the top of my head and I think, "well geeze, I'm going to feel happy all of the time! It seems so easy!" Yet, I still find myself making choices or letting situations get to me that cause the discouragement and downhill plummet. Funny how that works. It seems so easy to change.

This Sunday was an extreme "up" day for me, one of those which I've been so thankful for all week. At a prayer God had a personal message for me, which he spoke through someone (I hope with all of my heart that He uses me like that one day). This message did not encompass the exact subject I was hoping for an answer for, however, it was a message that I really, I mean really, needed to hear. It was just the right encouragement to help me get through these difficult times, and even overflow into encouragement for other situations as well. Not only that, He even gave me several incredible promises for my future. -- Promises I didn't feel that I deserved.

Our God boggles my mind sometimes. I don't think I'll ever understand how He has so much patience and love for one person, even if they keep making mistakes time after time. He always welcomes us back with open arms and an open heart, no matter what we may do against him. This is unfathomable for me to imagine. If I were Him, I'd probably be done with me by now.

I guess that's why He's God, and not me.
(Thank God for that!)

This week He has just blessed my heart time and time again, allowing me to feel His love at the most random moments, and unexpected times and places. In the car, at home, at work... You name it. And I still can not get over the fact that the one and only God, the maker of the entire Universe, the King of all kings, (need I emphasis further?) took the time to show me how much he loves me and on top of all that, promise me blessings for my life that were everything I could hope for? Even after all I've done? This alone will give me joy for the rest of my life. His love is there, and it's all around us. Even during those days that I make mistakes, once I ask for that forgiveness and help, I feel His love right there all over again. "for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." - Hebrews 13:5. A God of His word.

If you haven't seen the film "How Great is Our God" with Louie Giglio, wriggle out of those pajamas, put down the coffee, go put something decent on, and go get it (Assuming that you're like me, and enjoy lounging around in your sleeping gear after work). This movie will give you an all new perspective of God's love for you, and it'll help you understand a glimpse of how great It actually is. We are just tiny specks in an enormous universe filled with gigantic planets, stars, suns, and solar systems, yet, God's love for us is so large that it is unfathomable. All that love for just one little speck in universe. (I won't say any more, I don't want to ruin the movie! But really, watch it.)

We are children of the most high King, the creator of all that ever was, is, and ever will be.

Things just don't get any better than that.



Now it's time for me to get back to work and disinfect those tables.
Love you all!

Sincerely, Yours Truly

P.S. I found a link to watch it on YouTube, that way you don't have to ditch the PJs and bunny slippers.
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RKMw1ndl-EY (Part 1)

You're welcome!

Hello :)

It's been quite a while since I've posted again, but consistency has never been my forte when it comes to things like this. The last two weeks I had been in Hawaii and I wanted to write a post each day to keep up, but obtaining an internet connection involved walking ten minutes to the public swimming pool, and my inspiration for blogging began to die every time I even thought about it. I could have driven there, but that would have made me feel absolutely ridiculous, so deciding not to go at all seemed to be the most reasonable option.

I'm really not a lazy individual.

Right now I'm at work, doing what anyone could do best. Sitting. Myspace. Facebook. Sitting. Sitting. Sitting. I really don't know why they need us to work over the summer because there isn't anything for me to do. No tutors to call, no appointments to make, no attendance to take. I don't mean to complain, I'm happy I get paid to sit, but I'm just saying that if I was the schools financial manager, I'd save them a bucket load of money. Maybe two. Hey, maybe I should apply?

I'm wondering if I should write anything about Hawaii... Earlier on I was thinking about writing a couple of entries pretending I was still there so I would feel better about my laziness while I was really there, but then I remembered that I'm a Christian and there is an eternal punishment for lieing. Even if you're in blogland. Hmph.

Actually, I think I'll still write something about it just because it was a very special trip for my family and I, but i'll give it it's own special entry later on, when I'm bursting at the seams with inspiration. (I'm hoping this will happen, anyway.)

But as for right now, I think I better get back to sitting.

Sincerely, Yours Truly