Happy Sunday

It's been a long day, you know. I've been fully functioning since 7:30 this morning and I just don't honestly know how any sane person does that day after day. I absolutely love sleep and waking up well rested, you know, somewhere around noon.

Except today was Sunday so we piled into the car and raced ourselves to church. I love church. I do. Really. But today I was excited for going out to eat after church. We never go out to eat after church anymore. Partially because it's so darn spendy, and well really, how do you come up with that kind of cash every week to treat 7 people, possibly more, to brunch on Sundays after church?

We're not millionaires, unfortunately. And it's just too bad that money doesn't grow on trees because really, let's face it, that would solve a lot of problems.

Anyway, after our horrid waitress conned us out of more money than we wanted to spend by conveniently forgetting to tell us that some things cost more money in addition to the money you're paying for the meal, like side dishes and extra large drinks that totaled fifteen more dollars than necessary, I left the restaurant in a despicable mood, in desperate need of something fluffy and happy to come my way, and Prince Charming kept reminding me "Happy Sunday" at least three times before I pulled in our drive way. 

Well, we puttered around the house doing extravagant things like laundry and yard work. Princey and I left for a time to see one of his friends who lives down the road and across the street from me. We ended up in serious want of chocolate cake, the lot of us did. And Jack being the awesome chef that he is offered to bake us a veritable dessert delight.

He pulled a package out of the Betty Crocker box and mixed in the ingredients, but we all thought it looked downright soupy and perhaps he had added too much oil? I mean really, the batter just dripped off the fork and it wasn't at all that creamy thick brown chocolate goodness that even the least skilled cake bakers know it is supposed to look like.

Chalking it up to a measuring mishap, Jack poured out the thin consistency and retried with another packet of powdery wonderment, this time measuring extra careful so that we wouldn't end up with the former result. But the second packet turned out the same as the first, and we wondered if perhaps this was a different kind of cake mix. Maybe it was just a really runny liquid batter instead of a creamy luscious batter?

No matter. We placed it in the oven believing with our heart of hearts that it would turn out tasty and delicious the way that all good cakes are supposed to be. While the cake batter was placed in the oven to change forms and become moist and spongy, it was time to start on the frosting portion.

Jack pulled out one of the remaining packets. "Cake Mix" was written on the side. He pulled out the other knowing for sure this one would be the frosting packet, but no, it too read "Cake Mix." Oh the horror! He pulled the empty packet out of the trash can, the one he had used to make the 'cake batter' that was now baking in the oven, and it read "Frosting." Can you imagine?

We had added oil, water and eggs to the frosting mix! Wonder of all wonders that it wasn't thick and creamy! We all felt very bright and perhaps also worthy of a Nobel Peace Prize for our amazing display of outrageous intelligence. Jack pulled the frosting "batter" out of the oven before it has started to solidify and then mixed together the right batter.

Unfortunately, we had wasted both packets of frosting mix and were forced to make it from scratch. But the cake was melt in your mouth chocolaty and savory delicious.

I came home to DP sleeping on the couch and TheMechanic watching the end of one of the Star Wars movies. It's now 1:30 am and I need to go rest my brain parts and eye sockets so tomorrow I wake up ready to tackle the day that is feasting on BBQ at Grandma and Grandpa's for Memorial Day.

The One That Lacks Organization of Any Kind

Lately I have been in a writing mood, but as soon as I sit down to type something out all the words disappear from my head. It's like they get stage fright and run back to the green room locking the door behind them. They throw temper tantrums, hair dryers go flying, it's just like a war zone in that green room of refusal to cooperate. My brain doesn't respond well to that, so while there's a green room battle raging, it goes super blank and I stare at a blank page with my eyes starting to glaze over. 

I usually look at whatever's in front of me and cross my fingers that inspiration hits me hard and upside the head. It usually doesn't. Especially when what's sitting in front of me is the television playing Miranda Lambert songs. I got distracted. Lost my train of thought. 

I promise there was somewhere I was going with that last part....and then I lost it. And then all of a sudden I got it back, and then I didn't. And then I had it, but now I don't. Other than the television sucks your soul. I really shouldn't try to blog and watch a show at the same time. It's just bad news for everyone. 

But I've been thinking lately about stuff. Lots of stuff. And I think "Oh I should write about this" but then I wonder if anyone wants to read about that. But then again, it's my blog and if you follow me then you must like what I say or you stop following? Or you just keep tabs on me to see what wondrous garbage escapes my brain compartments this time. 

Maybe today I'll do something interesting and note worthy and inspiring. Or maybe I'll putter around the house and rot my brain with screen time and sugary foods. Since school got out I'm just waiting for camp to start so I can move back out of my parents' house. I don't have a room at my parents' because my sister took over my room - so her stuff filled up my ex-room, which means that when I come home I have no where to store my stuff. 

I have no dresser, I have almost no closet space. My totes from school are just sitting in the middle of the room. It's like a jungle of boxes. But that's what happens when one is in transition. Everyday I navigate through the forest that is taking over my bedroom while I pull my clothes out of a suitcase. I've started keeping clothes in my car for easy access. 

When camp starts though I'll have space. I'll still be sharing a room with some other girls, but I'll be a little more spread out. Plus, none of the girls I live with at camp are as messy as my sister. It's like dressers don't exist in her world. She's 12 if that tells you anything. 

Not only is she 12 but she's bigger than me! She's taller, has bigger feet so I can't even steal her shoes, she has bigger hands than me, she steals my clothes, all the usual suspects of living life as the little sister. She seven years younger than me too. 

Joy. 

On the hand, what's not so joyous is the weather. Yesterday was beautiful, but today it's like I'm wondering where in the world Summer is? It's almost June. The weather needs to get better and act likes supposed to. What's the summer gonna be like if it's never gets hot? That's something I don't want to ponder. 

I need sunshine. Camp this summer will suck without it. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to recover from this mess of a post by eating some ice cream and taking a nap. 

Let Me Tell You A Tale

Some of my favorite movies in my arsenal are Sahara, National Treasure, Cellular, and Fool's Gold to name a few. I like a movie that will make me laugh, includes a little romance but not too much, and isn't boring. Action is good too, and when there's good action that's even better. 

Prince Charming and I went to see Prince of Persia last night at it's midnight release, and a few people have wanted to hear/read what I had to say on the matter. So this is my first attempt at a review post. 

I haven't played any of the Prince of Persia: Sands of Time games, so if you're looking for that game to movie compare and contrast yummy goodness you're in the wrong kitchen. Prince Charming has his game lover review up over here if you want that perspective as well. 

I loved Prince of Persia. Not only was it an awesome movie, but I was surrounded by a bajillion and seven people that I knew - and we all loved it, albeit honestly some had more love for the snarky Persian Prince than others. Jake Gyllenhaal actually did a superb acting job and you really believe that he is the Prince of Persia not a gay cowboy as is the now stereotypical view of his acting skills. 

(Except I never watched that unfortunate movie because I didn't want to mar my love of Jake Gyllenhaal's character in October Sky because that movie is wonderful.) 

Anyway, there's actually a plot to this movie that isn't half bad as I understand is typical of game to movie films. The movie kept me engaged in the story and I didn't feel like I was going to fall asleep any minute despite the fact that it was way past my bedtime. The amp energy drink I had didn't hurt either. 

But what I have to say about this movie is that you should go see it. I have a nerdy boyfriend who is picky, picky, picky about almost everything - especially his video games. Prince Charming loved the Prince of Persia video games when he was younger, and he felt like this movie did a good job of telling the story and staying true to the elements of the game. 

I felt like this movie isn't just for gamers though, because I never played any of those games. I was still able to follow along with the story and I never had to turn to Princey and ask him what was going on. There are parts that you don't see coming, there are parts that make you laugh, and parts that make you cringe with excitement. I don't want to give too much away, so I don't want to say a lot about what happens in the movie - just do your eye sockets a favor and go see this movie. 

You can thank me later. 

Going To The Movies

Tonight is the release of the movie Prince of Persia starring everyone's favorite Jake Gyllenhaal as the Prince and guess who gets to go see it in all of its Regal Cinematic glory? That's right, me. I'm super excited. I didn't grow up with the video games though like Prince Charming did, so he's even more excited about it than I am. 

But what I love is that it's the midnight release. 

I'm old, people, I go to bed early. And by early I mean later than my parents but before 2 in the morning. So, Prince Charming and I bought energy drinks yesterday to save for tonight to ensure our awakeness and full enjoyment of said cinematic experience, lest we be falling asleep in our chairs. I usually start to drift off around 1 in the morning unless I've fallen asleep before then and I know the Prince of Persia is going to need more than an hour to tell me his story about his dagger of time. 

Besides the epic quantity of our movie theater excitement, I am not only going with just Prince Charming but also quite a few people are attending, including but not limited to TheKeeper, TheKeeper's obnoxious but lovable best friends who are like little brothers to me except that they lack the biological link, Prince Charming's friends who are more like just friends but I love them all too, and one of our co-worker's from camp who may or may not be bringing along another co-worker as well. 

There is a grand time to be had by all somewhere wrapped up in that mess. 

But I love social gatherings. Togetherness. Except I only like social gatherings with people that I know. Shove me in a room full of strangers and I will stick to myself. If I were a turtle (imagine such a thing!) I would probably just hole myself up inside my shell. I don't usually just put myself all out there unless the situation calls for it. Which is few and far between. Like blue moons made of cheese. 

Whatever. 

On a different note but still kind of similar to the whole 'togetherness' notion I was speaking of earlier, my grandparent's are coming over for lunch today. They're trying to sell their house so they can move to Arizona to be by my mom's little sister and her husband and darling daughter. I don't want them to go. Honestly, they haven't been around much in my growing up years and since they've been over in Spokane it's been nice having them around - only to disappear again? 

We'll see what happens.

But anyways, their bodies will be occupying our house while unknown humans walk through their house. Because of the whole 'maybe we are moving back to Arizona deal' they're having an open house to see if anyone will purchase their home, you see. And since it's an open house they are not to be present which means since I'm home from school and not working yet I get to hang with them. 

We're having chicken. 

(And if you'd like to read a review on the movie tomorrow after we see it, head over here to read what Princey has to say about the film. :-) )

Home Again

California was awesome. I didn't want to leave! I almost cried at the airport saying bye to my cousin and giving her a last hug or two and I could feel my eyes brimming. I've never felt like crying saying goodbye before, but I really just wasn't ready to come home at all. 

I think if I had stayed though, Prince Charming wouldn't have been too happy with me. Ha, ha. 

Thursday I painted with Oma. I have pictures, but they're not uploaded to my computer yet, so you'll have to wait a little while in order to see what occurred. :)

My last day in San Diego I got my nails done, so texting on my phone is a lot more difficult now along with a few other things, but I've wanted to get my nails done since I was about 9 years old and now I finally have them. It's awesome.

We finished the evening with a bonfire on the beach. Roasted some marshmallows, told some jokes, and stayed up too late. 

We were up at 5 o'clock Saturday morning to be to airport by 6 because my flight was at 7. I spend two and half hours on a plane to Portland, where I had a longer layover than I had originally planned because my connecting flight was delayed. 

Prince picked me up from the airport and then we drove two hours into the mountains where my family was camping. 

A bonfire on the beach Friday night and a campfire in the mountains Saturday night. I'm really living the life!!

Too bad that I was up a 5 o'clock Saturday morning and 8:30 Sunday morning - so needless to say, I slept in this morning. Actually I slept the entire morning and didn't get out of bed until noon. I love sleep! :)

San Diego Day 1

I'm at my grandmother's house in California. I was catching up on blogs reading about all the latest drama, including the 7 yr old girls dancing to Single Ladies in slutty outfits. If you haven't heard about it, Google it for more information. It's horrifying that parents think it's okay to dress your 7 yr up as a skanky ho and let her gyrate her hips to funky Beyonce music. I'm disgusted.

A little more disgusted than getting mud in a cut and a little less disgusted than when I think about the 40 yr old mothers who are obsessed with Twilight. Yuck.

Anywho, my flight was really ridiculously uneventful. I drew a model in a magazine in my sketchbook and played Tetris while listening to Owl City and drinking Ginger Ale. I always drink Ginger Ale on flights. It calms my stomach. I've never been airsick, because well, I've been flying basically since I can remember, but Ginger Ale has always been my drink of choice to just calm the nerves. Whatever little nerves I have. And it always works. Ginger Ale hasn't failed me yet.

My cousin and I stuck to each other like glue until she left Oma's to go sleep in her own bed. She could've stayed here, but she opted for a comfy mattress instead of a fluffy futon. I don't blame her, but that futon seriously isn't that bad. It's way better than the awful hide-a-bed that used to be in the den.

The bar really thought that it needed to gouge into your shoulders while you slept so that you would wake up achy and sore with a kink in your neck. How positively thoughtful of that awful bar, wouldn't you say?

But tomorrow I should wake up rejuvenated with no kinks in my neck ready to face the day. We're painting tomorrow. Landscapes with acrylic paint. It should make for an interesting time, experimenting with painting scenes I've never attempted before. I'm up for the challenge though. I do love a good challenge.

The only thing that's missing is Prince Charming. I need a hug right now, in the worst way!

Can Has Summer?

It feel weird knowing that Sunday evening Prince Charming and I will not be making the trek back to Moscow. We're done until late August! Woo! I have no homework, I don't have to really worry about anything except making sure that I get into my education class next semester. But I still don't feel done.

I don't know how to describe it. I feel like I'm forgetting something, or like it's a cruel trick that someone played on me and I really do have to go back to school. I figure it'll be a weirder feeling when I actually graduate from school.

Except I will never escape school since I'm studying to be a teacher. I will always have homework, right up until the day I retire. That future sounds a little bleak, haha. But I actually think it will be okay because I won't have to worry about making good grades to get into a good school. Instead I'll be the one handing out the grades that are needed to get to the good schools.

Such power!

Anyway, I'm just really glad it's summer time. The weather, the sunshine, the warmth. I didn't have anything to do today - but it's a Saturday, so that's not really any different. Come Monday however, I will be boarding a plane to Southern California for a week.

The sunshine, the warmth!

I'm brining my acrylic paints down with me so Oma and I can experiment with painting landscapes. It should be fun. And hopefully my cousin can take me shopping and gallivanting around the city. It's funny because I started out not liking my cousin very much at all, but now that we're older and both graduated from high school we're finding out we have more in common than we thought and that *gasp* we can even be, dare I say, friends? Oh the horror. We will most definitely cause all sorts of trouble together. Dangerous.

And come June 11th my soul will be consumed by all that is Twinlow Day Camp where hopefully I will make bank and spend time with people I love and who love me very much.

Shenanigans are sure to ensue. I'll keep you posted.

It All Comes To A Close

You know, when I was a freshman in college I wondered why I was here. What was I doing with my life? Why did I just rush off to a four year university when I had just spent 13 years in the public school system? I was crazy!

Absolutely nutso, that's for sure.

And then I did some serious soul searching, changed my major, and returned last fall with renewed motivation. I was worried that I would lose all my motivation this spring semester just like last year, but surprise, surprise I'm still here and I still love what I'm doing.

That must mean I'm in the right place, don'tcha think?

But something I know is also completely different from last year is that this semester just flew by. Flew. Right. On. By. And didn't even stop for tea and crumpets on the way out. Not that I drink tea and eat crumpets. At the same time. Well, okay, I do drink tea occasionally, but I've never had a real crumpet. I believe they are somewhat associated with biscuits and are more common in Europe than America, but don't quote me on that. I just stole the expression.

But honestly, coming back to the main subject, it's weird for me to think that next semester I will be a junior in college. I'll be that much closer to getting my degree and busting out of here to start a real job in the 'real' world. Because, you know, the world I'm in right now is fake.

No it's not.

Anyway, I'm just amazed that this year is over. In a couple days I'm headed back home and then I'll fly down to San Diego to see my oma and my cousin and when I get back I'm going to work at camp for the second year in a row.

If someone would have told me five years ago that today I would be in a healthy, steady relationship with attainable goals for my career future, I would probably have believed you.

I spent a lot of years wondering what it would be like to be a teenager. And then I turned 13 and thought "hey, this isn't all it's cracked up to be, and honestly not that different from 12." But then I got my license at 15 and I always thought high schoolers were older than they really are. I also used to believe they were more mature, and then I actually GOT to high school and let me tell you what a surprise that was.

You get into middle school and people are immature and you say "didn't we leave elementary school behind?" and then you get to high school and people are still immature and you wonder "didn't we graduate from middle school?" and then you graduate high school, move away to college and meet freshmen boys and say "didn't we leave high school behind?"

No. You didn't. It followed you. People will always be immature and I'm so tired of seeing facebook posts about how people should just grow up and act like the adults they should be. To you I say, don't hold your breath.

Anyway, here I am, 19 years old. The last of my teenage years, the ending of an era, the turning of a page and any other old cliche you can come up with. I'm in a good spot in life - but still wondering what it's like to be 20. To be 21. 22. Where will I be at 23?

Does the wondering ever stop?

Methinks I doth ponder too much.

Mommy Day

My mom hates having her picture taken.

She always has answers - even if they're not the ones I was looking for or wanted to hear.

She's always been there for me 100% of the time.

My mom was built to be a mom. Everyone always comments on how motherly she is.

My friends adopted her as honorary mom. So have all my brother's friends.

She can bake an apple pie that will knock your socks off and make them fly around the room. 

She was the best nurse when we were sick, and she shared her barf bucket with us when we were that kind of sick. 

She doesn't like cats. Hates them actually. 

But she loves, loves, loves to fish. Dad says he created a monster. 

My mom didn't drink coffee until her mother-in-law tricked her into it with tasty flavored creamers. Now she drinks it everyday and she drinks it black.

She still hates mustard. Except for onetime that my dad thinks otherwise.

My mom was a goody two shoes with a slightly rebellious side. She had to be slightly rebellious because otherwise I wouldn't know how she ended up with my dad. 

When she was six years old she walked home from school because she didn't like her substitute teacher. 

She used to get in trouble for combing her hair during class. 

My mom is a mom to four kids - that's no secret around here. And she and my dad have raised us all the best they know how.

We were taught to ask questions. Don't take things at face value - find out why it's that way. 

I don't like rules that I don't know why they're there. If they make sense, that's fine. If they don't, they drive me nuts and I don't want to follow them. I got that from my momma. 

She taught us to love Jesus and prayed before bed with us when we were little.

She taught us to bake. Cakes, cookies, pies, we loved being in the kitchen. (If only to steel the dough.)

My mom taught me to hold my head up high and be myself, even when being myself meant being different than everyone else. 

She taught us to have morals. She taught us to have values. 

She taught us to learn the other side of the story so we could argue our points more effectively when we came across opposition.

Throughout our lives she has backed us up in whatever we do. Gymnastics, Track and Field, Soccer, Attempting to Ride a Unicycle, Drawing, Mathematics, Painting our fingernails, she's been there for it all. 

My mom is a beautiful, strong woman of God. She's modeled what a good mother should look like and she's modeled what a good wife should look like.

And most of all, she's always loved all of us kids through the good, bad and ugly moments of life. I love you mom :)

Some Artsy Fartsy Stuffs For You

You may be wondering what I've been up to lately. I feel as though I haven't anything good to post about these days. I've been pretty swamped with work and school and free time. And unfortunately free time has included doing things post-worthy and then not posting about them.

Like painting ceramics and cooking at Zelda's apartment. I also found this awesome new game to play that would be more fun than what would happen if Twitter and Facebook had a child. Click the link. You know you want to. It's especially fun if you very much enjoy words. I promise.

So anyway, I feel like my brain is nine ways from Sunday and I can see the light at the end of this school work tunnel made of fail, but it might just be a train waiting to flatten me out. On the plus side, I got accepted into our Teacher Ed program, so that's one less thing to worry about. It's conditional admittance, so I have to get my GPA up where it needs to be by the end of Fall 2010 or I'm out. 

I'm not really worried. I'm in a good place and I'm sure that I will be just fine. Besides, if I'm where God wants me to be, then really, how could it not work out? You know?

But I still have to finish everything to do this semester, and thankfully I'm over halfway done with the last week of classes and lucky, lucky me has no finals during finals week. Yay! 

And remember that mug I was telling you about that I painted in memory of my grandfather? Well, I thought maybe, just maybe, y'all would like to see what it looked like. I think it turned out absolutely fabulous and I'm pretty pleased with the aesthetics of the piece.

I've also been hard at work in my drawing II class creating beautiful works of art such as this:

Don't you just love it? I really like the body and the fabric. I love the richness of the orange/gold color of the background. Not so nuts about the swirls, I think they need a little work, but honestly? It came together in a better way than I could have imagined. 

The assignment was to blend the styles of two different artists. I came to class completely unprepared. Uh oh. But fortunately for me, there's a girl in my class who is an extreme know it all and just looooooves creating works of art and telling you how she felt about it, why she did it, why she loves it, why she hates it, and how she went about doing it all, and she brought in two books on two different artists and sat right in front of me. I spied on her drawing a little bit to see what she was doing, and then I looked at her books. 

I figured beggers can't be choosers so I went ahead and used her books as references for my own drawing. I knew one of her artists was Edvard Munch because he has very distinct style, but I had to ask her who the other artist was. It turned out to be Alphonse Mucha - an artist who worked on posters when Art Nouveau was becoming popular. He was one of the leading artists and his style is very different from Munch's. 

I choose to believe that you can see the influence of both artists in my drawing - as well as my own little flair. I pulled most of the body and fabric from Munch, and left the background to Mucha. But the fabric is a little of both artists melded together. What do you think?

In other news, my dad will be here on Friday to take a few things out of my room so I don't have to worry about moving them in a week when Finals are over. It's weird the semester is coming to an end so quickly. But I mostly figured out why exactly it doesn't feel like the end of the year. In previous ends of prior spring semesters and all through public school the end of the year was ungodly hot. The sun was always shining and the days were absolutely wonderfully beautiful. That's not so this week. The weather is nasty and raining, windy and freezing.

Does that say summertime to you? I didn't think so.