synthetic rubber and hot yoga

i have been chewing gum for an hour and my mind is done with this piece of tasteless synthetic rubber, but my teeth cannot stop. this is an un-enjoyable situation.

i have been at school now for 22 days now...

between bouncing from classes to hanging out with new friends, from homework to exploring the greater seattle area, i have been super busy and having a lot of fun.

and as a new legal adult, i have not taken advantage of my age...yet...and i probably won't.

on tuesday, eric and i were sitting outside a bagel place in kirkland, enjoying each other and our outrageously good bagels, and i glanced to my left and saw a man, wearing nothing but spandex shorts, standing outside in this small courtyard of a building complex dumping out a water bottle on top of his head and rubbing himself down. it was one of the most awkward things i have seen. eric and i laughed because it was so funny. and then this guy continued by sitting down by this fountain and just chilled. i felt bad. i think he may have come out of the Hot Yoga building. oh man...

anyway...now i'm going to create a power point on margaret wise brown.
and then study for my lifespan psych test.

TOMORROW IM GOING HOME!!!

love ya all!

2 weeks notice

the countdown begins my friends...

one) im super excited for this new chapter in my life! i get to meet tons of new people and take classes that actually interest me. i'll be in a new town, so i'll have a lot of exploring to do...i think that God is definitely gonna use this transition to grow me, and while i am kinda nervous about that, i can't wait to see how he's gonna use me and grow me while im away at school...

but...

two) sometimes i feel as though im not ready to leave this place yet. here is where i know everything, every person, every street...im confortable. im not ready to leave my family and my friends yet...im gonna miss everyone so much...

and...

three) i know that here will not be forgotten :) ill be coming home a lot...i still have a family and a boyfriend and lots of friends here. and it's only 3hrs away...so that means that you should come and visit me too!

-----------------------------------------------

this summer has been amazing!
probably one of my favorite summers so far...
i've hiked a bunch (thanks eric!)
went to the beach house 2x (will be 3x!)
made cupcakes
went to seattle
celebrated emily's, jamie's, and dana's birthdays!
ski camp
worked...a lot...and went to lots of parks with the twins :)
went to portland a lot...
carly visited:
-bought awesome sunglasses
-got northface jackets :)
-tie dyed shirts
-olive garden!
-went to powells, 23rd, rei!
made masks with anne
took eric on an awesome birthday scavenger hunt
6am morning prayer
went to papa hyden's for stephanie's birthday :)
made thai food
went to olive garden with anne!
took amazing pictures with eric and stephanie...
had amazing adventures with eric and stephanie...
celebrated nathan's 19th birthday
had awesome awakenings!
went to starbucks a lot!!
had some awesome times listening to music in my car with tori!
watched movies (dark knight..)
had many late nights
made a ton of s'mores and boogers
and so much more!!!

and with the 2 weeks left...
i'll be...
working
camping
beaching
stargazing (meteor shower!!)
girls nighting
sequiming (hopefully!!)
packing
hanging...with eric a lot :)
and
trying to see everyone before i leave-ing!

love you guys!

and my birthday is in a month from this coming saturday! woo!

make me happy

1. eating a kiwi in 3 bites.
2. painting rooms and furniture.
3. the smell outside after it rains.
4. wearing clothes straight out of the dryer.
5. driving by myself in my car with music up loud.
6. one word: scarfs!!
7. books about traveling.
8. making crazy faces for pictures.
9. anything vanilla scented.
10. having a full tank of gas.
11. playing an intense game of soccer.
12. trick kites :)
13. eating peanut butter by the spoonfuls (in moderation, of course).
14. chai tea lattes!
15. s'mores.
16. <3
17. good music; especially good playlists.
18. reminiscing.
19. art projects: collaging, painting, coloring, etc.
20. using the hot glue gun.
21. finding money in my pockets.
22. seeing random people doing funny things.
23. getting lost in the moment.
24. wearing awesome shoes.
25. my devo journal.
26. detailing my car.
27. inside jokes.
28. running when its cool/raining outside.
29. sunrises/sunsets
30. late summer nights
31. my pillow
32. window shopping for my future house.
33. using sweet mugs.
34. eating cool new foods.
35. old pictures.
36. getting a lot accomplished in a day.
37. free time/being able to be spontaneous.
38. dried flowers (well, i guess i like alive flowers too :P)
39. surprising people.
40. seeing others be happy.
41. green lights.
42. hand written letters.
43. parks.
44. arizona iced tea.
45. clean rooms.

my castle, my garden

repress
repress
so many things that i want to address
but i cannot help but digress
just share
just share
slowly they slip out here and there
"but do you really think that people care?"
"it's not important, no big deal."
"but i just want to be real!"

stop this, you! you wretched fiend!
you smiled and then intervened
and tried to be a most honest friend
to which i quickly did befriend.

deceiving, lying, trying to conceal
all these feelings i want to reveal.
why did i choose to believe you?
it's such an easy thing to do.
i buy your lies and take them home
caring much too deeply for weeds that want to roam.
and roam they do, spreading deep.
i pay a price that's far from cheap.
the roots they lie and grow beneath
choking life, i have no relief.

but up on top, yes, above the ground
everything is safe and sound.
i smile and wave and try to ignore
the suffocation of my core.

someday maybe it will rain
and help wash all this dirt away
(or at least it might stop the pain
hopefully for at least a day).

i wait
i wait
for someone, something to guide me straight
please come soon, it's getting late.
not one more night, not one more day,
i want you here and here to stay.
"don't fear
don't fear
my darling, i'm near."
i ache and i strain for a listening ear.
be tender, be kind
i'll show you inside
my castle, my garden
is where i reside.

rancid son of a parallelogram

so i haven't written anything in a while....

anyway...

so i was reading this book today to the girls i nanny and there was this part where the villian is called...

get ready for this...

"that yellow-bellied, snake-blooded, skunk-eyed, rancid son of a parallelogram!"

now, i know you might not think this is very funny, but i thought it was hilarious! i mean, you know that now somehow i'm going to find a way to call someone a rancid son of a parallelogram. and it will be amazing. and i will post another blog just to tell you how it goes.

in other news, this is my last week of school at clark, then i have finals next week. woohoo! i am very very very excited to be done at clark! for those of you who don't already know, i will be transferring up to northwest university in kirkland, wa to major in elementary education. yay!

well, reader, i hope you enjoyed this blog (although it was kind of pointless).

goodbye.

childhood nostalgia

4108 Spruce Street.

That's where I grew up.

It was an older house-probably built in the 1940s. All the houses in the neighborhood kind of looked the same with some subtle differences.

The house was cream colored with green trim and there was a tiny one-car garage on the left side of the house that was used to store a variety of things as well as an '48 Buick convertible. There were three levels to the house: a basement (which was dank and scary until the remodel), the main floor (with very small rooms and a hallway kitchen), and an upstairs (which was where my room was located). It was a decent sized room compared to the size of the house. It had a lock on the door that could only be opened by a skeleton key, which was really cool when I was little. The walls were slanted like an a-frame and there was one lonely window across from the door. I loved this window. Many late summer nights I would open my window and stare out into the stars, dreaming and thinking about what life would be like when I was older. I wished upon those stars as long lonesome trains blew their horn in the distance. Life was simple in that room: dress up, sleepovers, reading Boxcar Children, making forts, and then at the end of the day, being tucked in by my mom and dad.

My brother and I and played outside a lot when we lived at that house. Our backyard was not very big, but it was big enough for a small above ground pool (in which most every day in the summer was spent making whirl pools), a very rickety old swing set (you know, the kind that when you swing so hard, you feel like you might just swing off the set), and a tree (which was great for climbing). But the majority of the time we played in our front lawn because it connected with our neighbors yard and they let us use it as well so there was twice as much space. Freeze tag, soccer games, catch, lemonade stands, and a slew of other activities were conducted in this yard. I remember learning how to ride my bike on the street in front of that yard. And I played with all sorts of fun toys that seem so foreign to me now: skip-its, chalk, pogo sticks, hula hoops, Frisbees, and other things like that. I'm pretty sure that I jumped 348 times on my pogo stick without falling off (yes, i remember that because it was kind of a big deal).

My house was on a horseshoe street, which is sort of like a cul-de-sac, but it loops all the way around like a U shape. My neighbors were mostly retired couples, with the exception of one and sometimes two families who had kids. (The house next door to the left of us was a rental house, so many different families came and went during the time that we were at the house.)

Myrna lived across the street in a single level mint green house with white trim. She was a nice Catholic widow who always sent us birthday cards with a one-dollar bill hidden inside. Whenever we visited, she always gave us gumdrops, which was a very special treat. (To this day, she still sends us birthday cards, a one-dollar bill always falls out, and I still have a hard time reading her cursive handwriting).

Betty and Clem lived in the house to the right of ours. It was a dark brown house and just as dark inside. They smoked and weren't very friendly to me and my brother, but they were nice enough to let us play on their front lawn and retrieve balls that landed in their back yard.

Neil and Fiona lived four to the left of us in a bright white house. If there had been a competition for the nicest yard in the neighborhood, theirs would have won by far. Roses, a perfectly manicured lawn, and many other trees, shrubs, and flowers were abundant and, of course, all labeled. Fiona always promised me she'd teach me how to make a daisy chain, but it never happened.

The only other kids on the street who happened to be my favorite neighbors were Nikki and Staci Harrington. They lived on the other side of Betty and Clem in a cheery blue house. Even though they were a few years older than my brother and I, they still participated in adventures with us.

Fall was my favorite time of year, mostly because every street in our entire neighborhood was lined with maple trees. The leaves would be every shade of yellows, oranges, and reds, which made for a magnificent view out of our front window. Dad used to rake the leaves into huge piles and then let us jump in them. I loved that.

Fall was also soccer season. One year, our home field was at Lincoln Elementary School which was about a two minute bike ride away from our house on Spruce Street. Soccer was definitely a highlight of every year for me. Even now, I can still recall the way those huge gray jersey's hung over my shoulders, so big that three of me could fit inside it with room to spare. I would stand out in the field and inhale the smell of the freshly cut grass every Saturday. About an hour later, smelly, grass-stained, mud-covered me would jump on my bike and race my dad home.

My best friend, Stephanie, lived on 41st Avenue which was about 2 streets north of where I lived. We used to be able to walk to each other's house, but we had to meet half way because our mothers were always concerned something would happen to us...but nothing ever did. I spent many afternoons over at her house, playing in her attic with dolls and other things. Sometimes, her parents would let us come with them when they walked down the street to play tennis at the courts at Lincoln Elementary School. That was always a treat.

My dad liked to take my brother and I on bike rides. At a very young age, I was familiar with the streets in my neighborhood. My favorite bike ride was when we would ride over to Frankin Park. Its playground consisted of a metal play structure that was covered in graffiti and had some really fast slides. They had swings there too, but I mostly remember the big field. The park overlooked the train tracks and Vancouver Lake and in the evenings, the view of the sunset from that park was amazing. At the bottom edge of the park, there were blackberry and raspberry bushes. My dad would always take us down there in the summers and we would eat lots of berries before we went home.

Sometimes, on very rare occasions, we would all ride down to the minute mart and dad and mom would let us buy candy. Usually afterwards, we road down and played hide-and-go-seek in Carter Park or sometimes go play at the jungle gym in Hidden Park. I liked Carter Park more because it had one of those carousel discs that you could spin around and around on until you felt like puking. (I'm not saying I liked puking, but it was one of the more scary things to do in a community park, which made me feel cooler.)

At the end of every day, we would come home to our sweet little house on Spruce Street. I don't live in that house anymore, but sometimes I go back and drive by it. It's still the same. Same trees, the same pool still sitting in the back yard, same stripes painted in the dining room. I really enjoyed growing up in that house and in that neighborhood. Revisiting the house makes the memories I made there all the more vivid and alive.

never speak

i regret at least 50% of the things that come out of my mouth.

why is it so important to talk?

i don't know...attention, security, power?

i don't want it. i would rather listen...

or just be mute or something...

it would save me a lot of grief and frustration.

john mayer puts is perfectly,

"im never speaking up again,
it only hurts me...
i'd rather be a mystery..."

if only...