Molly is my pretty girl

Today consisted of puppy dog kisses. Oh & ...

My Indifference Toward Marriage

Anyone who truly knows me knows this: I don’t want to get married. None of them, on the other hand, really know why. Or if they do they should enlighten me because it’s something I’ve lately been trying to answer myself. I’m surrounded by many beautiful, successful marriages. So why wouldn’t I want the same the happiness of my parents and grandparents? Have I given up on love? Am I an extreme feminist who hates all men? Do I spend too much time reading statistics on how 50 percent of all marriages end in divorce? The answer to all the above-- No.

It’s not that simple, condensed or cut throat. Instead it’s a lengthy, drawn out mixture of reasons, beliefs and- to be honest- girlish stupidity. All of which led to 20-something me waking up one morning and declaring my indifference toward marriage.

Nan, I love you

Instead of grandma, we called her Nanny. Summers were spent in Tennessee, as well as Alabama in later years. As a little girl I spent summers in a small brick house, nestled behind some trees on the same road where my mother was born and raised. Days were spent hiking hay fields and discovering old barns. Four-year-old me could be found in the creek wearing a pink floral bikini, giggling as my tiny ringlets bounced back and forth while brother and Nan splashed water all around. We were always baking, rolling sugar cookie dough and using Nan’s large collection of tin cookie cutters. Evenings were spent catching lightning bugs. They sat in a jar on her dresser acting as my own little night light. On happy days the rooms were full of her laughter as she danced around the house. Brother and I would drift to sleep as she read us our favorite book- Soda Pop Goat.

{Warning: This post is extremely long. Thank you to those who take the time to read it.}

looking back on 2009

Christmas has come to an end, which means 2010 is right around the corner. So here is to looking back on a wonderful 2009.

• music: I attended two concerts, Jonas Brothers and Honor Society. I consider the JB concert to be one of the top five days of my life, easily. Gwenie & I had floor seats next to the stage. This was the year I fell in love with Nick, Joe and Kevin and became ten years old all over again. I was also obsessed with Taylor Swift and Adam Lambert, who should have won. He was the first American Idol contestant to receive my vote.
• sports: I love, love, love my Arizona Cardinals. Larry Fitzgerald is my favorite. And Sundays are spent yelling at the television screen. I went to Supercross for about the tenth year in a row. I also attended my first hockey game and loved it.
• school: I began my senior year and held two internships, one at a non-profit (which will continue next semester) and the other at a magazine.
• travel: I studied abroad as a foreign correspondent in Dublin, Paris and London. This was my first time traveling outside the United States. I also traveled to Tennessee twice, once in February for a cousins wedding (it snowed) and the other in July. I made the decision to move there next year.
• the downs: My aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer about two months ago. My uncle had a heart attack earlier this year. Two of my dogs died. My father often argued about money.
• friends: I hosted three dinner parties for my closest friends. I do this every year. I stopped being friends with a best friend on my birthday in April. I haven't spoken to her since.
• movies: I saw at least twenty-two movies in theaters. Harry Potter, The Blind Side, Up, Sherlock Holmes, Defiance and Star Trek were my favorites. I attended two midnight premieres: Harry Potter and New Moon. I am Team Jacob. I also went to the worldwide premiere of Wolverine, which meant standing less than ten feet away from Liev Schrieber, Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds.
• tv: I became obsessed with Glee and The Vampire Diaries. I only missed one episode of American Idol. Chuck and Blair are my favorite TV couple, but I'm sure next year it will be Finn and Rachel.
• bought: My most expensive purchases this year were my iPod touch, Macbook and a Canon Rebel. I also bought an expensive pair of Steve Madden boots that I love.
• other: I was baptized early this year, dyed my hair for the first time, went sledding for the first time, turned 20, gained weight (sadly), started subscribing to Rolling Stone and Elle, started a Tumblr, stayed single (and loved it), wore skinny jeans half the year and had the best year of my life. I also made my first Youtube video, because I was in an exceptionally good mood that day (promise not to laugh at my lack of dance skills):

I hope you all had a lovely Christmas!

this is her confession to the world

December. She can remember the nights well, lying under sheets of blankets and comforters, crying in beat to the ticking of the clock. The nights when the tears didn’t stop. When she felt as if she were Alice, in a wonderland where she cried a sea. Nights when she couldn’t help but scream out into the night. The nights when her mother would cuddle up next to her, her fingers combing through her hair. “It’s going to be okay,” she promised. The words that meant nothing, but everything at the same time. She’d respond with questions full of sorrow and misery, “Why doesn’t he love me? What did I do? Why I am not good enough? Why did he hurt me?” For a week her mother comforted her, night after night, letting her daughter cry herself to sleep, where she’d often drift into nightmares, horrors that merely mimicked reality.

Yes, December was the month. Three years ago, when her heart shattered. Not like taking scissors to it and gently slicing it down the middle. No. Like a mirror, thrown against a jagged surface, making it impossible to pick up the pieces. Three years and she still doesn’t understand why some pieces are still missing. Perhaps it’s because like all search and rescues, time goes by and one stops looking. Split into so many pieces, hidden in each direction, like horcruxes that seem impossible to find, with little clues few and far between.

But somehow it was the experience that made her the strongest. Not her mother nearly dying. Not her grandma with Alzheimers who lived with her a year and died a summer later. And all the other things she doesn't want to mention. No, a broken heart was the worst of them all. Her King told her, "Guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." If only she'd known before how true that was. ★

To all readers and commenters:

Thank you so much for each visit and your lovely words.

Have a happy, happy Christmas Eve & Day.

I hope it's truly magical. &

In case someone hasn't told you today, you're beautiful.

xx

the nightmare of war

Last nights dreams were merely horrors. Brother was at war, a proud soldier looking after his men with every fiber of his being. And I was there. In dusty streets, filled with darkness, death lurking on every corner if only you were to go knocking. He kept me safe. He kept us all safe. But I found myself alone in an old shop, when a girl walked inside, smiling. The sun had already set and strange men were watching us from across the street. I forget the words we exchanged, but suddenly it was as if she were one of my men and I was to look after her now that brother had gone. Fear was replaced with the mission at hand. But brother came back. Somewhere in the dream they were about to take us. Bullets buzzing over our heads and somehow two teeth fell out of my little mouth. Teeth? How odd. All I know is brother kept me safe and I was scared. The fight to stay alive made us strong.

Brother always wanted to be a soldier. He was part of the sea cadets with John McCain’s son at a young age. I remember going to Mr. and Mrs. McCain’s house as a child for a ceremony. All I remember is shaking their hand and thinking their pool was the bluest of blue. So young. Brother went to army training and boot camp in later years. But after the injury and the birth of his son, he was no longer in the army. It was all he ever dreamed about since I can remember. Reading books about war heroes, the Bible and watching Bands of Brothers and Saving Private Ryan. I’m convinced he would have been the best of soldiers. The type that would fight for you ‘til the very end. Just like in my dream. ★

Photos: These are scans of a little album brother found in an antique shop in Tennessee, on the square in the town where mother grew up. He was a young boy at the time and his face lit up at the sight of it. He bought the album for $10 and it holds pictures of men from the Civil War and what I can only assume is their family.

Q: What was your last dream?

pretty things to help me remember

Look at this lovely find. I've been in search of a pretty planner for the coming year and I found this one, made by O-Check Design Graphics, at Anthropologie. An early Christmas present. It opens up to a sketch of Notre Dame Cathedral. And St. Paul's Cathedral, too. Two places I was blessed enough to visit this year! Such a beautiful scheduler, with pictures and drawings and maps scattered throughout the months. And little places to journal as well. Each year I search for a pretty planner or calendar. Us Dorys of the world couldn't survive without one, for we often forget.

Six years ago I started recording my daily activities at days end. Now I can revisit any day I choose. Two years ago I had a sleepover with five of my closest friends and we drove to see the twinkle lights and ate the night away, snacking on sweets and playing board games hours on end I'm sure. Four years past and I had lunch with mom's friends and made sugar cookies with a best friend. Five years ago was spent playing Halo with my older brother. Those were the days when he still lived at home, the days I miss. It's funny how time changes things. ★

Q: What are some of the things you miss from years past?

mysterious thing, time. -dumbledore

The year has been full of blessings, with little angel kisses along the way. In January, I dreamt of packing up a suitcase and traveling across the sea, full of dorys and mermaids and shiny patrick stars, to a land far, far away. The words impossible were thrown all around me, making me dizzy. But My King always knows better, doesn't He?

For I sang in Dublin pubs, with smiles that shouted 'I want to be forever young.' I walked the cobblestone streets of Paris, heavenly crepe stands on every corner, where I often stopped for a taste of banana and Nutella. Standing in awe of the Notre Dame Cathedral, which before only existed in story books about gypsies and hunchbacks. A train ride taking me to a land as magical as Harry Potter himself. An arrival at King's Cross, where muggles were hustling and bustling about their day. Celebrating the Queen's official birthday, a parade where Prince William and Harry rode by in a carriage, followed by another with the queen. A fairytale.

How I wish I could revisit each memory. A time-turner necklace would be lovely. For now I'll carry each enchanting moment with me, nestled in my pocket. ★

a heartbreaking reality

Be still. Pause. Close your mind off to the world. What are you thinking about? What occupies your mind the majority of your days? For me the answer is worry or complaints, much of the time. Or it's things that really bare no significance at all. Since when did I start thinking about me, me, me the majority of the time?

My parents have been begging me to watch Taken since before my trip to Dublin, London and Paris. I even considered watching it on the plane ride to Europe, my first time out of the country. Tonight I finally watched it. As the credits came on, my parents asked me what I thought about the movie, comparing the father in the film to Jason Bourne. But my mind was somewhere else. The last time I cried so much after a film was The Changeling, another film that made me realize how sick some people truly are. I sit here, my heart broken for these girls who are sold into sex-trafficking. I think about my trip overseas, how easily it could have been for that to happen. Then I think how easy it would be for that to happen here, anywhere. And then my mind escapes into the horror, the reality of it all.

I've been researching things online for the past hour now. And I want to share some heart-breaking stats I found at Crisisaid.org:

• 1.2 million children are trafficked every year; this is in addition to the millions already held captive by trafficking.
• Every 2 minutes a child is being prepared for sexual exploitation.
• The average victim is forced to have sex up to 40 times a day.
• The average age of a trafficked victim is 14 years old.
• Approximately 30 million children have lost their childhood through sexual exploitation over the past 30 years.
• Sex trafficking is an engine of the global AIDS epidemic.
• People are trafficked from 127 countries to be exploited in 137 countries.
• Between 14,500 and 17,500 victims are trafficked into the USA each year.
• The total market value of illicit Sex Trafficking is estimated to be in excess of $32 billion.
• By 2010 Sex Trafficking will be the number one crime worldwide.

Tonight I send out a prayer for all the victims of this horrific crime. And I pray that God will lead me to what action I must take to help make a difference. I know I can start with the offering that will taken at my church this Christmas. This offering will be going toward a secured facility to care and house teens from the sex trade. It's a fundraising campaign that is partnered with 25 other churches. Because as of now, the only available options for a charged prostitute that is a minor, is to either be sent to a Juvenile Detention Center, be admitted into Child Protective Services, or return home. Victims of sex trafficking suffer from a variety of psychological, physical and social wounds that must be treated within a controlled and supportive setting.

If you want to find out more information on how you can help end sex-trafficking, visit HumanTrafficking.org.

Sending all of you love and hoping you stay safe, Krissie ★

catch a falling star and put it in your pocket

Childhood memories sneak up on me, like a shooting star in the night. Mornings spent watching Little Bear and Madeline. Days when brother still lived at home, sharing bunk beds and talking past bedtime. Making tunnels in the sand at the water park, our eyes full of delight as the water flowed through something we created with our own little hands.

Driving with mom and Clint across Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma and Arkansas to the wonderland called Tennessee, playing the license plate game, bickering over who would sit shotgun and overdosing on McDonald's greasy fries the whole trip long. The south, with its trees and creeks and lightning bugs that we'd catch and save in a jar. A little night light on the cupboard in our room, near Nan's pretty jewelry boxes and trinkets that I'd stare at with wonder, too delicate to touch. Memories of me in my pink-flowered bikini, no more than five years of age, twirling in the rain on Nan's backyard wooden deck. Each drop of rain planting smiles and laughter on my face. When Nan would bake all day long. Walking through fields of hay. Dressing the bed with new white sheets while Nan and I danced around the room, listening to a cassette of Pocahontas Colors of the Wind. It was our song.

I remember Christmas eve nights, when brother and I would hear a clatter, certain that it was Chris Kringle's reindeer. Days when our imagination was our closest friend. We could be whatever we wanted to be. Family trips to Disneyland or camp grounds in Oregon, admiring the ocean and running along the sand with our family dog Xena running beside me, arms spread out wide, ready to take off and fly at any moment. The vacation where I lived in my Nala Lion King turquoise sweater and peace-flowered hat.

Days when my truest treasures were porcelain dolls and polly pockets. Where a day spent playing catch and jumping on the trampoline were the best days of all. The smell of summertime. Saturday morning cartoons with Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch. Watching movies, our favorites like The Sandlot, Mighty Ducks and Hook. When we thought those days would never change and we could stay young forever. No one told us Neverland wasn't real. ★

Do "all dogs go to heaven?"

It's Friday evening. And here I sit, snuggled in the corner of our white couch. The TV is much too loud. So loud, that I'm surprised my mother hasn't texted me complaining. I'm watching He's Just Not That Into You, or rather listening. I'm annoyed by a cricket that seems to be in a battle with the television for who can be the loudest. The cricket is nearly winning. And while I would like to relax, I have an endless list of things I need to complete. And yet, I've decided to write a blog entry instead of completing my list at the moment. Don't worry, I'll get to my to-do's after. This week has been exhausting. So I think I deserve ten minutes to type out my thoughts.

My parents road tripped to Yellowstone this week, leaving the house all to my friend Gwenie and I. And up until yesterday, it was quite nice. Thursdays I have no class and, so, I decided to sleep in. Only to discover hours later that my dog, Suzy, was dead. The horrible part? I had seen her hours earlier through the back door and simply thought she was sleeping. Once I realized she wasn't breathing, I went into shock and immediately called my mom while crying and yelling, "Suzy is dead." I had just seen my beautiful Border Collie the night before. She had water. She had food. She was fine- her usual, happy self. And my last memory of that night is happy, playful Suzy simply wanting to be loved and petted, tail wagging a hundred miles a minute, as usual. But I, in a hurry to make it to my State Press Magazine meeting, wouldn't pet her because her obsession with splashing water meant she was soaked and would get my jeans muddy. Instead, I fed her and filled her water dish and dashed out the door. That was it. And now poor, innocent Suzy is gone. We had her for nine years. And she was always the most loving of our dogs. She only ever wanted to jump on you and give you kisses.

We don't know what happened. But after talking to the vet, we believe she had a heart attack and died in her sleep. She was the best dog in the world and I would like to think she is in heaven, with our other dogs that have passed. Her, Fancy, Misty and Xena are probably having a blast and enjoying their time together- & have an endless supply of doggie bones. At least that is what I would like to believe: that all dogs go to heaven, just like that cartoon movie. I just can't believe she is gone. And I'm still in shock. Suzy, I love you. And I'm sorry I didn't pet you more, even if you would have gotten me all muddy. I'm so sorry.

Above: The above picture isn't the best, but it's the only one of Suzy I have on my computer at the moment.

I had a dream

"I was a little girl alone in my little world who dreamed of a little home for me. I played pretend between the trees, and fed my houseguests bark and leaves, and laughed in my pretty bed of green. I had a dream. That I could fly from the highest swing. I had a dream. Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park, I asked God who I'm supposed to be. The stars smiled down on me, God answered in silent reverie. I said a prayer and fell asleep." -Priscilla Ahn

Dreaming of the future, once again. I am craving a new adventure, somewhere new. I'm sure my adventures in the magnificent wonderlands of Paris, London and Dublin will hold me over until I finally get out on my own. I want to move far, far away to Tennessee. Although, by the time I visit Europe I may have the liking to live in France for all I know. That sounds like a dream. But we only get one life to live, so why not?

For the past few hours I have been searching online through dozens of homes in Tennessee. And this is what I've decided: I want a yard with big, beautiful trees in the front. I want rose bushes and hydrangeas. Of course, I must have a dog. And, since I'll be living on my own, I want a good protector, such as a Mastiff. Gorgeous dogs, I must say. I want a small, quaint home or cottage with a tiny kitchen and living room. The kitchen will be decorated and inspired by a vintage ice-cream parlor. The bathroom will be painted robin's egg blue. The living room will be a light, light color with a mix of modern and shabby chic. & Large windows and tall ceilings would be lovely.

I'd spend my mornings on my front porch, whilst reading the paper and sipping on a delicious cup of hot coffee, my dog laying next to me. I just want to be on my own. Sweet, sweet independence. An adult, living and working and dreaming and enjoying the beautiful world around her. This is what I crave. The more I think about it, I just wish to leave Arizona. It's been a lovely home for the past twenty years, but I believe it will soon be time to say goodbye. Of course, God may want me somewhere different. But Tennessee really looks like it may become a reality. I'd love to live outside the city and work in Nashville. Oh, it would be grand.

Wishing you sweet dreams,

Krissie

Photo Credit: {Decor8}

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to

Goodbye, teenhood. I am officially twenty years old. I honestly dislike birthdays. Every year there seems to be something that goes wrong. Call me a cynic, but the whole idea of its "your day" is crap. Because I honestly think people could care less. Today, I am a tad peeved. Actually, no, I am ticked. But all that aside, I've decided that my twenties are going to be awesome, for lack of a better word. I'm going to have the best summer of my life come June. Paris, France, Dublin. And once I arrive back in the states I will be going on a road trip with my parents and grandparents to Yellowstone and various national parks. Then it's off to Tennessee for a few weeks to spend time with the family and my lovely friend Jerrica. And spending time with Jerrica equals photo shoot. So far, I hear feathered wings are involved. Today I am celebrating being me and if certain people don't want to celebrate that with me and, instead, want to tear me down... well, that is their issue and not mine. Because like the Lesley Gore song, "It's my party and I'll {do} what {the heck} I want to..." Cheers.

My childhood hero

While growing up, many children would say their favorite hero was Batman, Spiderman or some other well-known superhero. But my childhood hero was a man who didn't need to have special powers. Why would he? He had a gun. I honestly can't believe it has taken me this long to write an entry about John Wayne, only the greatest actor ever known. The Cowboys, True Grit, El Dorado, Big Jake, The Sons of Katie Elder, and my all-time favorite- Rio Bravo. Who doesn't love Walter Brennan as Stumpy and Dean Martin as 'Dude'? Now Mr. Morrison (John Wayne was born Marion Robert Morrison for those who don't know) was a patriot, and one I highly respected while growing up, and still do. In fact, I've already decided that, once I have my own home, a large picture of John Wayne will hang over my fireplace. And yes, I am serious. His attitude is what I loved the most- a real man who you did not want to mess with. And he was certainly a handsome fellow at a young age. All I know is John Wayne is a legend. Which is why I can't understand how the Coen Brothers possibly believe they can put their hands anywhere near the movie True Grit. Who could ever play a better Rooster Cogburn?

When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does.
-Kathleen Kelly, You've Got Mail

Did anyone else read The Hundred Dresses as a child? It was, and is to this day, one of my favorites. My other childhood favorite was the first book of The Boxcar Children series. I've decided that, when I'm older, there will be a section of my book collection that will contain only children's books. And this section will also include my favorite books I read when I was 11: From the Files of Madison Finn. I can still remember the day I discovered these books. We were in a small bookstore in the mall near my house and I was in search of a good book. To this day I own up to book 12 in the series.

Coming this summer...

I apologize for the lack of updates recently. Family problems going on. My uncle- aka favorite relative (well, let's just say he's awesome)- had a heart attack last Wednesday. But he is now home and doing well, according to my mother, who flew out there last week. I am having a blessed week and am currently on my spring break, so I thought I'd put together a list of all I'm lovin' and hatin'.

I'm lovin'...

...the song Free To Be Me by Francesca Battistelli.

...my church. I have been attending the church for three years and am finally getting involved in a small group lead by the preacher's daughter who is a sweetheart. It's a girls small group with 19 other girls and my best friend and I are starting on Thursday. I'm super excited!

...skinny vanilla latte's from Starbucks. New favorite.

...He's Just Not That Into You. I really thought I would dislike this movie since I dislike most of the actors and actresses in the movie. But Gennifer and that-one-guy-from-Accepted made the movie so worth it. Too cute. And it has me thinking that maybe I want to be the exception one day, and not the rule.

...singing country music. I can't sing at all, but when I sing country I can sing decently. I'm obsessed with country music lately, and not just Taylor, Carrie or Rascal Flatts- but all country music.

...the Lord. He has proven, once again, that He has better plans for my life than I do for my life.

...me. Yay to loving who you are.

...my newest idea: Politically Incorrect, which will be coming to you this summer and will be featuring my uncle and cousin. It's going to be awesome.

...growing up and being excited for life.

...Twitter. I'm obsessed. Really.

...What I Like About You. Does that show ever get old? No, not with Vic & Vince.

I'm hatin...

...dad's grumpiness due to mom being gone for three weeks now.

...the fact that I weigh more than I ever have in my entire life. A bit pathetic, but I've decided it's not the end of the world. Must try better tomorrow.

...blahness. Yes, blahness.

If I would have had a boyfriend a week ago, our relationship would have ended yesterday. Why? Because my brain always seems to start working properly when I return from Tennesseee. My first relationship ended a few days after I returned from the south, and my second relationship ended not long after a trip as well. Coincidence? I think not. Here are some insights I received on my last trip.

1. Life doesn't have to be so complicated.
2. Sometimes in life we don't feel as close to God, but that doesn't mean we aren't still buddies. A relationship with God is also not complicated.
3. Love's Enduring Promise is a wonderful movie. It's a Janette Oke sequel featuring Katherine Heigl. 10,000 B.C. was also a decent movie, but strange.
4. I am moving to Tennessee in a year and a half. Most likely. My friend is looking for a roommate and, the way I see it, Nashville has plenty of PR opportunities. Hello, country music capital of the world!
5. I am starting my own broadcast show via the web this summer. The title: Politically Incorrect. Starring: My cousin, uncle and fellow southerners. Inspired by The O'Reilly Factor, it will feature the host (that would be me) delivering facts on particular current events while receiving opinions and feedback from your every day American citizens (i.e., my uncle and cousin who, seriously, anyone would want to watch whether they agree or disagree with their viewpoint). I'm seriously excited.
6. While my cousin's wedding was beautiful, it, again, made me realize that weddings are nerve-racking. I first realized this at another cousin's wedding. Marriage seems equally frightening. If I do ever get married, I'm sure I'll wake up wondering what the heck I was thinking. I'm hoping I'm wrong.
7. I prefer cold weather over hot weather. It snowed a good five inches this weekend! I was super excited. Waking up to a wonderland of white and snow sitting softly on the trees: true beatuy. My uncle took me for a ride in the 'mule' (a mix between a 4wheeler and a golf cart). It was freeeezinggg! But another good memory to add to my Tennessee adventures.

Missing the good ol' South (*sigh*),
Krissie

When I grow up I want to be...

Lately I have been thinking about what career path my future will hold. I will already be a senior next year (crazy!) and with the current economic conditions, I have no idea what job I will one day choose. I'm not really concerned about money, as long as I can pay my bills. I know for certain that my career goals will change as I grow older. I plan on having a more successful career in the far future- hopefully. Well here are some of the careers that, at one point in my life, I have considered.

Archeologist. As a young child I held a certain fascination with Egypt and ancient ruins. I once visited a museum in Phoenix that featured various Egyptian exhibits and to this day it is one of my favorite memories. I think it would be fascinating to discover buried cities, lost tombs or Biblical artifacts. The idea sounds thrilling and I've recently debated volunteering with a local organization that searches for Native American ruins and the like.

Children's book author. The next Kay Thompson, author of Eloise- only the best book ever written. Children's book are my favorite. Many of the books I read as a child remain my favorite- The BFG, The Boxcar Children, 100 Dresses, Amelia Badelia and the like.

Lawyer. My mom used to always tell me I would make a great lawyer. So much that I thought, eh, perhaps. But today this a definite no. Although I find my mass communication law class fascinating.

Teacher. I find this laughable, but a conversation occurred between me and my mum a week or so ago about how I should teach once I get out of school. You know, that's how Bill started his career. Maybe I'll retire to being a teacher.

Graphic Designer. I once debated switching my major to graphic design. This ended when I realized it was impossible to get into the design school. It's probably a good thing because I don't think it was meant for me. Sure I love Photoshop. And last semester my teacher said I should pursue all things creative and had an eye for design. This was her reaction to my personal web page creation. I think my fascination with this subject will come into play further down the line if I pursue public relations, if nothing else.

Wedding Planner. My dinner parties sparked this idea. I love to decorate. I love to plan. I have excellent taste- really I do. I just don't have the money to display my taste, unfortunately. But the idea of living in Franklin one day and owning a victorian house where I would also run my wedding planning business sounds quite lovely.

Editor. The more I think about it, this is what I really think I would be good at. Plus, what would be better than being the head honcho at a publication where I can tell other journalists to "rewrite- too biased!" If not a magazine editor or online editor or what-not, then perhaps a book editor. I have two besties who are writing a book at the moment, and both have come to me asking if I would edit it for them. Hmm...

Journalist. The downside? Dirt pay. BUT... I love getting down to the nitty and gritty about serious issues. I love writing about politics and serious situations that matter. And the power of the pen, my God! the power of the pen. It's remarkable. This past presidential election opened my eyes to the power of the media and how I absolutely am disgusted with the whole system- which is exactly why I want to be a journalist. You need more people like Bill who actually have a brain and aren't a bunch of self-serving idiots. You need people to look out for the folks- whether it be broadcast or print.

Public Relations consultant. Good pay. So many different areas. A mix of journalism, advertising and what not. Still learning about this, but eh, who knows.

Model. Yeah righhttt. All I've heard throughout my life is how I should be a model because of my height. I tell them, thanks but no thanks. I'd have to drop tons of weight. And me in heels? That's laughable.

Cookie

It's officially Girl Scout cookie season. Yesterday I was outside of Bashas (note: I've ditched Fry's- see Adventures in grocery shopping) and two girls came up to me in their green attire, just as sweet as could be, and asked if I wanted to purchase a box of cookies. All the while I am thinking:

1. Who can say no to such polite little girls who seem to be struggling to sell their boxes.
2. I read a news article-I think on Yahoo-about how the economy is hurting their profits and, not only that!, they were robbed (or something or other). So who could say no after that?
3. And... who doesn't love Girl Scout cookies?!

So I walk up to the table where they were out of Samoas-only the best cookies ever! So I settled for a peanut butter flavor. But oh well. No complaints here- they were still delicious.

Generations

Nan at 19; my age. Died of Alzheimers summer 2007. I miss you and love you dearly- always.

Mom. My best friend.