Jiggity Jig

I'm home again! It's been great to spend the last few days with family again. I sorely missed our family get-togethers with my grandparents and the McGhans, so I was happy to have a weekend full of family.

I got into town on Christmas Eve. I was looking for some harp music in the dining room when I heard the front door open and a very familiar voice sing out, "TARA!" It was Laura, with Jason tagging along behind. I knew at that point that I was home.

As we pulled into the church parking lot for our Christmas Eve service, I saw my grandparents getting out of their car. I begged my dad to stop the car right there, so I could jump out and give them a huge hug. It's great to be back with them again.

I was given a lovely welcome back from everyone at church. It was wonderful to receive all the hugs--and teasing--that I missed during the school year. A couple people at church have been so kind and sending me little cards and such during the school year. It's been a huge encouragement to me, so I was glad to be able to give those people hugs and thank them in person. :)

Everyone gathered at the McGhans for Christmas Day. I remember when I was little, I thought it was so unfair that we always had Christmas at their house because I didn't like having to pack up my presents to show them. I have since gotten over myself. Also, this year my most interesting present is easily transportable. Stefan gave it to me, telling me that it was something to help me when I'm stressed...

I thought it was a whisk, and was wondering if perhaps Stefan had been researching the benefits of beating eggs to relieve stress. Think of how productive that would be! I'd become the Omelet Queen every finals week. I could bring souffles to my professors!

But it wasn't a whisk. (I'm not going to abandon the egg-beating method! I think I'm on to something...)

It's actually a head massager, and it feels divine. Stefan, I forgive you for breaking our "not exchanging gifts" pact.

It turns out I had a gift for Stefan, too. I had bought my dad "Notes From the Tilt-a-Whirl," which is one of the best books I've read . . . I was going to qualify that with a time period such as "this year" or "lately," but I decided it doesn't need to be qualified. It's one of the best books I've read, period. It turns out that my dad had already bought the book, so I gave it to Stef instead. I gave it to Leah for her birthday in November, so I think my family should have a Tilt-a-Whirl book club. The only one who doesn't own a copy is me. Ironic.

On Boxing Day (that's so much quainter than "the day after Christmas"), we spent some time with our friends from Orlando. We played Balderdash, and somehow nobody was convinced that in Apple Valley, California, it is illegal for ducks to poop on the apples. Hmph.

That night, we had another family get-together at my grandparents' house. My grandma crocheted me a hat for Christmas, and I am almost excited to get back to freezing Moscow just so I can wear it.

(Not really. I love my hat, but I don't miss the cold. It's in the 60's right now...absolutely delightful! I love being able to wear short sleeves, I love that my breath is invisible again, and I love that I can go to the beach later this week!)

Today, we had a baby shower for Leah and Seth at church. The ladies at church did a fantastic job decorating. I'd forgotten how cute baby boy stuff can be! As I sat with my sister, watching her opening gifts and writing down what she'd received, something felt eerily familiar.

And then I remembered. A year and a half ago, I was sitting in the same spot, writing down her wedding gifts. How quickly that time has gone! It's so wonderful to see how God pours out His blessings on us.

I absolutely can't wait for Seth to get here! I talk to him whenever I get the chance, and my hands are well-acquainted with my sister's adorably rounded stomach. I'm sad that I won't be able to see him until Spring Break (about a month after his due date), but I'm grateful that I won't have to wait until summer.

Whew. It's been a busy weekend. It has finally quieted down somewhat, so I made a list of things to accomplish during break. It's 133 words long, and I haven't finished yet. One of the items reads "Get sufficient sleep," but I'm afraid that fulfilling that goal will exclude the possibility of accomplishing the others. Oh well.

Not dead, just resting...

This blog post is dedicated to my father, who just texted me and told me to update. Hi, Dad. You might be my only reader at this point, but you're worth it.

Since I last updated, I have flown cross-country, spent Thanksgiving in GA, flown back cross-country, finished out my second term of school, and flown cross-country again. I am sick of airline food. Or at least I would be if I got any. Anyway, I'm here in GA with Leah and David right now, but we're driving down to FL tomorrow.

I've had a lot of fun with the Johnsons. One night, we went to a crazy fondue place called Dante's Down the Hatch. I felt like I was eating in the middle of a Disney ride. There was a pirate ship to my left, crocodiles swimming around it, and wax figures of Mark Twain and Einstein leering over my shoulder. Dante himself visited our table and we chatted with him for awhile...he told my sister that he would be happy to deliver her child, and that we could eat free if they named him Dante. Somehow, I think they are turning down the offer.

We also went to Centennial Olympic Park to look at lights and ice-skate, but we decided it wasn't worth it to wait in line for hours to skate on an incredibly tiny, Zamboni-less rink, so we just walked around.

Today, we watched a precious little neighbor boy while his brother was born. David and Leah were great substitute parents, so I know they'll do a great job with Seth. (Because I was really worried before....haha). Speaking of little Seth, I got to feel him hiccough the other day. It was amazing...he's so active. I can't wait until he's born, especially after spending the morning with such a sweet little boy. I want a nephew!

I'm sure there is more I could say, but my brain is a bit foggy right now. I've been sleeping for 11-12 hours a night, which makes me lethargic all day long. I've been blaming it on jet lag, but I'm not sure how much longer that excuse will hold out. I think I just need to stop being lazy and find something to occupy my days while school's out.

Blood

I'm not sure that I'll ever live down pressuring my cousin to give blood with me at Key West. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and I forced him to come with me--we'd do it together, and wouldn't it be fun? Who cares that we're on vacation in the Keys? Let's go save lives!

Long story short, since I was getting over a cold, they didn't want my blood, so he had to go through it all by himself. I've always felt guilty that he wasn't able to enjoy that day of his vacation, and ever since then, I've been determined to give blood. So yesterday I did.

The bus was parked right outside the school, and I went in around an hour and fifteen minutes before my next class, figuring that would give me enough time.

First, my blood pressure and pulse were too high. Grr. No one would have known I was nervous if that stupid blood pressure machine hadn't tattled on me. Why don't they just call them "lie-detectors"?

So, after being forced to admit that I was in fact a wee bit nervous, I was given a few minutes to calm down. I went to my mental happy place, and passed the test the second time. Yay.

I settled back on the table and started chatting with Jose, the blood-letter-outer. (And that's a technical term...) He asked if I was nervous. I gave up the charade. Yes, Jose. I am nervous. Help me.

He proceeded to tell me that he was actually a homeless man yesterday, and that he had a sign reading, "WILL WORK FOR FOOD," and these people gave him this job...and he'd never done this before, but he watched some training videos, so it would probably be okay.

I felt better. Really. He then began the search for my vein. It was not hard to find. I apparently inherited my mom's veins. Doctors love them. Edward Cullen would, too...but thankfully, he does not exist, the creeper.

The needle went in, and all was well...for about three minutes. But then I started to feel really light-headed. Jose was not impressed. He exclaimed, "Tara, no! You haven't given me even 200 mL of blood. You're not fainting now! Tell me about Florida."

I started talking about beaches, and the dizziness went away. Mind over matter--that's what Jose said.

Unfortunately, the wooziness was a recurring enemy. At one point, I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. I looked over and saw concern plastered on Jose's face. He ran over and grabbed my hand and yelled, "Doctor, I'm losing her!" He wasn't trying to be funny that time, but even in my woozy state of mind, I found it hilarious. Good grief, Jose! I'm fainting, but I'm pretty sure that I'll wake up again!

I think I was the only calm one. Everyone surrounded me. I was given apple juice and ice packs, and all the while, Jose was coaching me to not succumb to the fainting. He kept murmuring "Stay with me!"

I desperately wanted to just faint. It was so tempting. I begged him to let me just close my eyes, but he forbid it and made me talk to him. Some sweet older lady named Georgia was rubbing my hand.

I looked up at her and said...."So, tell me about yourself."

She looked amused and began to tell me about her grandkids. I don't remember a word she said, but I just wanted someone else to be talking. I was getting stressed out because they kept asking questions that I could not form intelligent answers to. (Things like "What is your hometown famous for?" and "What type of trees do you have in your backyard?" To be honest, I have a hard time answering those questions even now...)

And then, I started to sing the ABC's. I have no idea why, and I'm really embarrassed about it now. What's worse is that I only made it to "G," because I couldn't remember what came next.

It must have helped though, because I somehow came back to life. I was later told that my lips were white and that the color slowly drained back into my face. I would have liked to see that. I imagine that it was like Aslan breathing on the stone animals. ;)

I was forced to cough loudly and deeply so as to get more blood to my brain. Jose told me I sounded like I had hairballs and that I needed coughing lessons. Eventually, I was able to sit up. Georgia gave me a cookie and they finally let me go, but not without escorts to make sure I didn't collapse on the ground.

I was 15 minutes late for class and totally missed a quiz. Oops.

But now I can cross "give blood" off my list of things to do before I die. Now, I just need to go to Africa, get married, and have kids.

Only, I think I'm going to add another thing to my list. "Give blood without looking like a wimp." I'm such a loser.

Break

Saturdays during break are marvelous. For the first time in a long time, I didn't have to set an alarm, and none of my roommates are here, so without anything to wake me up, my body happily gorged itself on sleep. Yum.

When I finally did get up, I spent most of the afternoon cleaning my room. It's nice to be able to kick off a new term feeling organized, even though that feeling will likely deteriorate by Week 3.

Though my day was surprisingly productive, it made me very thankful that my friend convinced me to come home with her for most of the break. Spending most of the break alone in my basement would have be lonely, and to avoid getting all introspective and gloomy as I'm apt to do when left to my own devices, I would probably have distracted myself with stupid sitcoms all week. Or I would have done school, which could be considered equally as wrong, because breaks are for relaxing.

So, instead, I went to Washington where I met M's family. They have fourteen kids, so it was a lot of fun. One night, we were watching TV, and three children climbed into my lap. One eventually toddled off because the other two kept elbowing her, and one of the others fell asleep in my arms. It was good for my soul, which has been child-starved for the past nine weeks. I miss the church kiddos back home...

When we weren't hanging out with her family, M and I went shopping, watched a hockey game, went sight-seeing around Seattle, and visited this adorable little Bavarian town on our way home, where we both indulged our German sides with sauerkraut-laden bratwurst slathered in horseradish and brown-ale mustard with salt and vinegar chips on the side.

In other news, my sinuses are all cleared out . . .

I feel like our Seattle trip deserves a post all of it's own, but I need to get up early tomorrow, so that will have to wait for another time. Probably tomorrow.

I miss and love you all...and today, I especially miss my harp and the tabebuia tree in our yard. Don't ask me why I miss those two things specifically. All I know is that I would be thrilled if someone sent me a care package containing either (or both) of those items. I would also be really impressed, and I would probably feel guilty about the shipping costs.

Shopping

I was talking to my dad the other day, and he said that he was looking at my pictures on Facebook, and he noticed that I wasn't wearing as many clothes as the other girls. At first, I thought this was a fatherly exhortation on modesty, and I was very confused. Then I realized that he was just telling me that I have stretched my native Floridian wardrobe long enough, and I needed to go shopping for things like coats and sweaters. Duly noted, Dad.

I've been trying to shop as much as I can during break. Right now I'm in Seattle (a friend from school invited me to her place), but before I left home (a word which here means "the place I live in Idaho"), my roommates and I exhausted Moscow's shopping possibilities.

And now, a bunch of stories about me shopping, because that is basically the only thing I've done all weekend.

~~~~

I went to Wal*Mart looking for a pair of black tights. Last time I wore my current pair, I felt my toes poking through them and decided that they were on their last leg. (Oh c'mon, that's clever...) The only tights Wal*Mart carried in my size were turquoise, tie-dyed, and sparkly. Um, no. I decided to mosey over to the girls' section, and I found the biggest size they make for girls. They were a dollar cheaper, too. When I tried them on at home, however, they were a bit too short. I was about to feel sad, but then a smile crept over my face because this is the first time I can ever remember being too tall for something to fit. I should shop in the kids' section more often. I think my self-esteem would improve.

~~~~

I was trying on shoes at Ross when I heard someone call their mom to come over and look at something. The woman replied, "Well, I'm trying to get over there, but Tara's blocking the whole aisle!" I looked at her stupidly, trying to figure out how she knew my name. I was getting ready to apologize profusely (this lady did not sound happy), when I realized that this woman's daughter was also named Tara, and she was blocking the aisle more than I was. Ha.

~~~~

I found fleece pants at Old Navy (which incidentally was the worst purchase ever, because I want to live in them, and part of me dies every time I have to take them off and put on real clothes). Anyway, my roommate and I were waiting in line for a dressing room. We waited, and waited, and waited. All seven dressing rooms full. The dressing room attendant, whom I will call "Nick," just because I don't want to type out "dressing room attendant" all the time, tried to join our conversation about how frustrating shopping for pants is. I told him that since he was a guy, he had no right to complain about pants shopping, because all he had to do was find his waist size and his inseam. He then told me that his problem was finding jeans that were loose enough to fit his thighs, because "people in Idaho think that everyone has chicken legs!" As fascinating as the conversation was becoming, I was happy when a little girl sauntered out of the dressing room. At last! But no. She was sharing the room with her mother, who was still trying on clothes. Seconds later, a woman walked out of a different room and shut the door behind her. Nick walked over and knocked to make sure it was vacant. A man responded that he was almost through. (??)

At least three or four more people wandered out of various rooms in the next few minutes. But all of the rooms were still occupied. It was ridiculous. Nick was as bewildered as we were. I was convinced that there were secret passages ways in all the rooms that people were wandering in and out of.

I got so bored just waiting, so I handed my clothes to my roommate and drew with chalk on the floor. I drew one flower, and ta-da, a room was open. Life lesson: always try to have fun while you're waiting, because the second you start to enjoy yourself, it'll be your turn. I abandoned my chalk art, and took my clothes from my roommate so that she could scamper into the room before anyone butted in line.

Nick offered to hold my clothes while I continued drawing with chalk, but I think I was scaring away the children who were legitimately enjoying the chalk corner, so I declined. Nick then remarked that "my friend" had run into the room so fast that he hadn't even gotten her name. Suspicious that he just wanted to get to know my gorgeous roommate, I asked if he always asked for people's names. He said, "Yeah, we're supposed to ask, and then write it on this white board, so that we can be like, 'Stacey, how's it going in there?' or 'Joe, we have the next size up!'" Then he snickered. "Or, 'Mary Lou!' Haha! I actually had someone named Mary Lou come in today. I was like...wow. Okaaaay."

I snickered along with him, but my snicker was a devious one. Later, when a dressing room was finally freed up for me, he turned to me and asked what my name was.

I told him it was Mary Lou.

My blog is being stupid...

...otherwise I would post.

More later, when I have patience to actually figure out why the formatting is going bonkers.

Flight Announcements

My roommates showed me this skit the other day, and it cracked me up. Aunt Karen and Laura, I thought of you...I miss my Southern accent buddies!

Finals

I have my first oral exam tomorrow (Tuesday).

I've been skimming over all my notes and things I starred/underlined. Side-note: writing in books is no longer a cardinal sin in my eyes, but I still can't bring myself to highlight books. Study notes, yes. Books, no. Seeing beautiful words covered in neon ink makes me want to cry.

Not really.

Ok, really. But I hate admitting that, because it makes me sound like a snob.

Highlighters of the world, I don't look down on you for your decision to color every page of every book you're ever read with garish shades of ink. Just don't do it to my books (or anything you've borrowed from the library...), and we'll get along just fine.

Anyway . . . . I was going to tell you about finals. But now it's time for me to go to bed, because falling asleep during my oral final at 9am tomorrow morning is probably one of the worst things that could happen.

Actually, I can think of a lot worse things. Like failing. Or realizing I'd forgotten to wear pants that day. Or saying something totally heretical and accidentally attributing it to Calvin. Things like that.

Boy, I feel great now. I'm not worried about a thing. Ha.

Back to studying. I always forget what a genius Augustine was until I read what he wrote. Then it makes me want to crawl under a rock and never write or speak again because I will never be as awesome as him.

Finals

We have one final tomorrow, and then a bunch more next week. Eek.

I just want to pass, and I don't want to cry during any of oral exams. Given the comments I've heard from teachers and my history of being less than stoic under pressure, this may be a problem . . . and unfortunately, once my lower lip starts quivering, there's no going back.

I laugh whenever I remember how we gathered around my sister minutes before her wedding to pray for her. I got as far as, "Dear God, thank you for Leah..." and then I choked. I tried to compose myself, but it just wasn't happening. I didn't want to risk ruining my makeup five minutes before ceremony, so I just ended my very profound prayer there. At that point, Leah was probably wondering why she was letting me speak at the reception!

Anyway. I'm going to get back to studying. Tomorrow is going to be a rough day, but hey...I get to wear jeans and a sweatshirt to school for once. And behold, there was much rejoicing in Tara's closet. You have no idea how stoked I am that I don't have to hurt my brain tomorrow trying to come up with a warm outfit that doesn't break the dress code. Ahh, must go shopping for cold-weather dress clothes!

I got an e-mail informing me that this was the weekend at Kennedy Space Center where all the Floridians get in free if they bring a food item for the food drive. The normal rates for KSC are ridiculous, but definitely worth a can of corn. ;)

The last two years, I've tagged along with David and Leah, because they're just nice like that, and I have to admit that instead of writing Rhetoric and Lordship papers this weekend, I would have much preferred to be walking around sunny FL with them eating Dippin' Dots and watching 3-D movies about space. I miss you, Johnsons! :)

But I actually ended up having a fascinating discussion about space and eternity with one of my roomies yesterday as we munched on fries from Jack-in-the-Box (creepiest fast food mascot ever), so I celebrated space weekend in my own special way. ;)

Speaking of fast food, I've heard rumors that Chick-Fil-A is opening up in Boise. That's about six hours away from me, but hey--it's a start. I think they should get rid of the disturbing Jack-in-the-Box here in town and stick in a place with non-creepy mascots...like cows who wear signboards. Nobody's scared of them--they can't even spell!

Puer est!

Aunt Tara. Yeah, I like the sound of that. I can’t wait to hear my little nephew squeal it whenever I visit him . . . as long as he’s squealing out of excitement, not terror.

But I'm jumping ahead of myself. The poor kid's still unnamed and unborn. I'll let him delay learning my name until he's ex utero, but once the doctor slaps his little rear, I expect him to start working on the T sound. I've heard that's a hard one for kids.

Oh, funny story....I was chatting with Uncle Tomas on Facebook this afternoon. At one point, he wrote, "Yeah, I can’t wait to hold my little niece in my arms.”

Wait, what?

I’m not going to lie. I actually entertained the notion that David and Leah had told everyone that it was a girl except me, since I was predicting that it was a girl all along. (NOTE: Predicting a girl is not the same thing as exclusively desiring a girl. Mmkay? Mmkay.)

Around the time that I realized that Leah would never do such a cruel thing, Tomas helpfully typed “JK” into the chatbox. Phew. I wasn’t misinformed.

I'm thinking that maybe ignorance was bliss, however. Now I'm plagued with the desire to rush out and buy every bit of baby boy paraphernalia in this solar system. I think I need to go visit my personal banker Rachel. Maybe she can give me some helpful little financial pamphlet written for aunts who want to blow their life savings on onesies embroidered with bugs and firetrucks.

Don't let me down, Rachel.

The cost of higher education...

Last week at declamation, we all read another section of our papers. In my narratio, I referenced a 19th-century idea concerning higher education for women. Basically, this Harvard medical professor came up with the theory that women couldn't handle the rigors of a liberal arts education. Their brains would become overstressed which would harm their ovaries, and they'd be barren for life.

And no, I couldn't read that without laughing.

The assignment for this week's declamation is nice and simple. We have to give a book or movie review. I looked back over my reading log to see what I'd read this summer and was reminded of my newest favorite play: W;t (also published under Wit, but the semi-colon is a major part of the story, so I think it should be kept in). This assignment isn't due for a few days, but I needed a break from reading, so I sat down to write. First, I tried to summarize the play. A pedantic woman spends her entire life in the academic world and discovers at the age of 50 that she has cancer. Ovarian cancer.

Then it hit me. I can't review this play at declamations. No way. After last week's declamation, I can just imagine everyone sitting there thinking, "Why is that one short girl in our class always talking about educated women and their ovaries?"

So, yeah. I nixed that idea.

Sometime I'll post a review of W;t on here...but right now, I need to come up with another book or movie to review. I thought about Captivating, but I've already technically written a review of it on Facebook, and I also don't want to always be harping on views of women in Christian circles, no matter how wrong they are.

Maybe I can review Amelia Bedelia. Or Ramona Quimby, Age Eight. I don't think ovaries play a big part in either of those books.

And that is the final time that I'll write the word "ovaries" on this blog. Promise.

Because I'm sure you all care about my hair...

I was reading Proverbs 16:31 a few nights ago . . . "Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life."

Yesterday, while brushing my hair, I discovered that I have moved two more strands in the direction of a righteous life.

Yeah, I'm trying to ignore the possibility that I just got really rotten hair genes from my parents. These aren't the first gray hairs I've found. I used to just yank them out, but I've stopped that. I'd rather end up like my mom (gray at 30) than my dad (bald at 30).

Uh-oh. That reminds me of something else I read in the Bible...the story about the two she-bears gobbling up forty-two kids because they called Elijah "bald head."

That story totally freaked me out as a kid, because I once told my father than his hair didn't fall OUT, it fell IN and clogged his brain. (Do you remember that, Dad?)

I didn't understand. Everyone laughed when Buddy said it to the bald guy on The Dick van Dyke Show! Life Lesson #780: don't repeat everything you hear on TV.

Also, stay away from she-bears.

Wow.

I just realized that my blog is still set to FL time. Aha, so that's why I've been reprimanded for staying up too late! No worries, Grandma and Aunt Suzanne; I don't make a habit of going to bed at 2:30AM. I learned Week 3 that it's just not worth it. I'd rather get up early than stay up late. At this point, my dad is saying, "Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?" No worries, Father. One look at my room right now, and you'd know it's me.

So yeah, you can pray for my roommate. . .

Haha, no. I promise it's not as bad as it was at home . . . but that's probably just because I have less stuff out here. ;)

Anyway. Moving on. I love Fridays. Thursday nights are usually filled with frantic studying and minor freak-outs in preparation for Friday, but Fridays themselves are fantastic. Latin recitations are hilarious, Lordship recitations are amazing, declamations are usually interesting, and Disputatio is just fun.

Actually, Disputatio was jaw-droppingly amazing today. If I didn't believe in the sovereignty of God, I would have to conclude that the speakers had somehow managed to peek into the deep, dark recesses of my soul and had specifically constructed a talk designed to target everything I've struggled with in the past five weeks.

That's not the first time something like that has happened out here, but it was definitely the most obvious. All I had to do was make eye contact with my roommate across the room. No words were necessary. She understood everything I was communicating. (It roughly translates to, "Oh my goodness, can you believe this is happening? How did they know? Were they hiding behind a bush when we had that conversation? Isn't God amazing?")

Yes, my eyes are talkative.

For those burning with curiosity, the lecture was on pride, humility, and comparing yourself to others. I'm guilty. Oh. So. Guilty.

So yes. I have been convicted by so much in the past few weeks, and that makes me happy.

You know what also makes me happy? Sleep.

Why do I end every blog post talking about sleep? Methinks I need to come up with more creative ways to signal the end of my post. I know!

The End.

Salmo 150

Harvest Ball

I think the feeling a girl gets after a night of dancing should be encapsulated and sold as happy pills.

I have been really stressed out this weekend. I probably should be right now, but I'm not. I'm still on my dancing high. That dancing probably worked off a few dozen freeze pops, too. Not that I eat a lot of freeze pops or anything. Cough.

Church is tomorrow, which means I have to wake up in time to go. Heh, I should get to bed.

For Dad...

Propositio

The idea that Christian daughters may not attend college is a misapplication of Biblical headship.

Confirmatio

Headship is defined as “authority” or “leadership,” and the Bible is quite clear that a father is the head of his daughter. However, in some Christian circles, the definition of Biblical headship has been wrongly narrowed to mean that a daughter can only be under her father’s authority if she lives in his house. Though some daughters may desire to formally continue their education outside their home, this narrow view of headship forces them to squelch those desires and label them as feministic and rebellious. However, the authority structure does not crumble the moment a young daughter steps outside her father’s house. A daughter can still recognize her father as her authority, even if thousands of miles separate them. This is because submission is primarily a matter of attitude, not location.

Part of a father’s responsibility as the head of a household is to ensure that his children grow into responsible, godly adults. If a daughter’s God-given talents would be best developed outside the home, a father should give his blessing to her pursuits, trusting that she is the kind of daughter who would not abuse her liberty.

9/11

A couple of my friends and I had the "Where were you on 9/11?" conversation today. Do you suppose people in the 1870's talked about where they were when they found out President Lincoln had been assassinated? It just seems like every generation has that one tragic moment that unites them all.

Like my sister, I was also doing my Saxon math lesson. I remember my mom getting a phone call from one of her friends. My mom turned on the TV, so I knew it must be important. Then she started crying, and I knew it was really a big deal.

Strangely enough, those were the two things that initially helped me grasp the seriousness of everything. I had heard about terrorist attacks in the news before, and I didn't understand why this one was such a big deal. I'd never been to NY or seen the World Trade Center, so it didn't feel like they were attacking home. I was ten years old, and probably still thought that FL was the entire United States. It wasn't until later that I realized the gravity of the attack.

The next night, we had Kids' Night at our church, and I remember one girl insisting that the tourists had attacked.

Oh, the blissful ignorance of youth...sometimes I wish I could go back to the days when I had to have evil explained to me.

Keep all the families who've lost loved ones in your prayers. Anniversaries are hard.

Rhetoric...

I have written two pages of text for a 250-word assignment, and I'm still not sure what I'm saying. It's like having a closet full of clothes and NOTHING to wear. Which, come to mention it, is another problem I have...

Anyway. I have to finish this portion of my paper by tomorrow (and read it to everyone...), so I should go organize my thoughts. My dad has been a tremendous help making sure that I don't say anything heretical or mean-spirited, so thanks goes to him for letting me talk through everything with him last Sunday afternoon.

And also thanks to him for understanding that Biblical headship and a daughter living 2924.6 miles away from home are not always mutually exclusive. I don't have to live in his physical presence to be part of his household...and I am attempting to prove that in my paper. Hopefully, it works...

Oink.

I feel fine now; I just sound like an old man when I laugh. Yeah, I know--I must be back to normal then, right?

However, it seems like everyone else is sick, sick, sick. The freshmen ended up getting Labor Day off, since we only have one class that day, and our teacher was sick. Multiple students are sick at our school, and the university right across the state line has 2000 students with swine flu symptoms. Not good.

So...you prayed me back to health; you can do the same for the whole city. Thanks. ;)

Cough, cough...

I was hoping I could magically bypass all sicknesses for the next four academic years. That didn't work out so well.

Something seems to be going around. I have a sore throat and possibly a very low fever. Maybe this is just my body revolting against me for not getting enough sleep last night. Thursday nights are always really stressful, so I need to plan better in the future. Going to bed at 2am and still having to wake up at 7am to finish your reading is not a good idea, especially when you have to take school pictures the next day. Here's hoping they crop me out...

I came home from pictures and just crashed. That's right people; I actually took a nap. I got up, ate dinner, and now I'm planning to go back to bed. Unfortunately, there's a party I'd really like to go to tonight, but I think I just need to rest tonight...

Well, I thought it was funny...

There is nothing more awkward than laughing really loudly at something the pastor said in his sermon...and then realizing that no one else found it funny.

I did that three times today.

Week Two

I feel like I've been here forever. Am I really just on Week Two?

Tomorrow is a relatively not-busy day. Goals: Get up. Read City of God. Finish Confessions. Sing in English. Sing in Latin. Speak in Latin. Speak in English. Remember to wash clothes before I run out of...never mind. Think about stuff. Study. Eat three meals. Call my favorite sister. Bond with roommates. Clean room. Swing dance?

The question mark will remain a question mark until I see how much of the preceding items I accomplish.

Yawn. Bedtime.

So.

My dad told me, "I haven't seen a blog post from you in awhile...but no pressure."

Haha, thanks for the gentle reminder, Dad. :)

Sundays are the best days to blog, because they are the only days I don't actually feel guilty for doing something besides school. ;) The reading assignments out here are very...large. I am tempted to complain, but I've learned that a lot of complaining is actually boasting in disguise. "Oh my goodness, I have to read all this stuff. Look at me, being so smart and studious..."

If I had a magical sin-zapper that I could use on myself, I think I would zap away pride. Could someone invent that, please? It would make sanctification so much easier.

(And sadly, I'm oftentimes not being smart or studious. Sure, I'm reading...but am I comprehending? Therein lies the rub.)

I need to get up early to finish some reading tomorrow, so I'd best go to bed. Just wanted to let you know that I'm alive. :)

I hate thinking of titles.

Classes have started. I feel overwhelmed, but in a good way. I'm not panicking yet. For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly thankful. :)

I think as this academic term goes on, the quality of writing on my blog will deteriorate. It already has, I'm sure. I don't even proof-read this thing. ;) I need to conserve my mental energy for that which really matters...and this blog is not one of those things. ;)

The school work here is tough. It's incredibly difficult, but so rewarding. And I actually care about my assignments for once, so that makes it easier to have a good attitude.

I have had to read faster than I ever have before. The teachers give us massive reading assignments, and expect them completed next class period. I spend a lot of time on my bed in the basement with my pink fuzzy blanket wrapped around me. My basic day is to get up sometime between 6:00 and 7:00. Study. Dress. Breakfast. Study. Class. Lunch. Study. Maybe more classes. Study. Bed at 11:00.

With lots of random roommate conversation in between to keep us all sane.

So yes, a lot of studying. But don't feel sorry for me. I love it. :)

Picking up where I left off...

Church on Sunday was great. My boarder family sits in the second row, so I felt right at home. (I'm like a little kid--if I sit in the back, I spend the whole sermon looking at people.) The sermon was on Romans 8, which is one of my favorite Bible passages. It was a really encouraging message.

We had a psalm sing that night in a local park. There was a great turnout, and it was a lot of fun, even though my voice needs major work. Our music professor led the psalm sing. He is very passionate about music. It's almost intimidating. He said that if you're the type to cry during a hard final, you will cry in his final. I guess I'll pack the Kleenex when the time comes!

Immediately after that, we had a freshman/sophomore party called Freshmeet. Or FreshMeat, depending on the person you asked. Haha. We played "I Have Never" and I met a TON of people. Occasionally, I met them twice, because I'd forgotten that I met them the first time. So embarrassing, but everyone understood. The guys played this ridiculous game called Buck Buck. It's a bizarre combination of leap frog and dogpile...I was very glad that I was exempt from participation. ;) At the end, all the sophomores gave us advice and a bunch of the guys prayed over us. The advice I took to heart the most was "Call home often!" which I know I will forget to do. It's hard enough to find time to talk during the day, but then there's a three hour time difference to deal with. The other advice that was the most important was to not neglect your quiet time. We got that speech from both faculty and students. Definitely good advice, because when you're in an environment where you're studying your Bible all the time academically with your professors and classmates, it can be so tempting to just skip having personal devotions.

Today, we had orientation all day long. All-freshman orientation, freshmen women orientation, and all-student orientation. I feel pretty oriented! ;) Mrs. Wilson's talk to the freshmen women was the best. She is so gracious in her speech...you feel loved, even though you're being rebuked and convicted by her words of wisdom. We got a bunch of great advice from the school faculty members, too. I think a lot of people have preconceived notions about the school, so it might come as a surprise to you that very little of the advice had to do with academics. Sure, we were told to stay on top of our school assignments and to attend class, but we were told over and over that being an academic nerd isn't the point. Man's chief end is not to be a geek. We are called to live as mature Christians and to be involved in other people's lives--not to stay holed up in a room reading and studying so that we can get the best grades. The president himself told us that he'd rather us get low grades because we were involved in our community or helping others than for us to get good grades by being an unsociable nerd. All my life, I've tended toward the unsociable nerd side...school came first, always. But I'm learning that academics is not the end all and be all. Funny that I had to go to school to learn that, isn't it? ;) As the school president said, we are called to hide God's word in our hearts, not just our heads.

In short, I love it here. Yes, I miss a lot of people in FL...and in GA...but I have never once regretted coming here. I feel so at home at this school. It's not perfect, and I'm not trying to idealize it. And yes, I'm probably still high on excitement and anticipation. But I just got our first week's homework assignments, and I still love the school! So there. ;)

Tomorrow is the first day of classes. I can't wait!

I'll try to post pictures later...

Catching up...

I'm trying to get caught up on this blog, because I know that when school starts, I will have WAY less time.

I started moving into my new home on Thursday, but tonight will be the first time I actually spend the night here. God has been so good to me--I LOVE my housing situation. The family I'm with is too amazing for words. I feel so at home here--it's just spectacularly wonderful. I've had so much fun unpacking my stuff and rearranging my room. I actually have more bathroom space here than I did at home! :)

I've spent most of my time running errands (yay Wal*Mart!). I also had to set up a bank account, and learn how to do grown-up things like deposit checks. ;) It's rather embarrassing, but every time I say the name of my bank, I feel the urge to break out into song just like in a certain musical. Coolness points if you know which one. ;)

I picked up my books from the school the other day. I'll take a picture of them later. I also had to sing for the music teacher. Choir is required, but you still have to "try out." It was painful. I'm glad it was private. "Joy to the World" has never had such a rough start...

I had lunch a few days ago with two sophomores and one freshman. They were super sweet, and the sophomores gave us some great tips and encouragement. The people at this school are so friendly. I love it.

We had a freshman BBQ today at our Rhetoric teacher's house. I enjoyed meeting the other freshman girls, but I didn't meet any of the freshman guys. We just naturally segregated ourselves, and no one was brave enough to cross the gender line. I really wanted to shake things up and go introduce myself, but I conformed. Shame on me! Next time, I will be brave.

Tomorrow is church! :)

The Trip...

All summer, I have been telling Tomas that we'd go to a local coffee shop once before I left, so we went 10 minutes before closing time the night before I left. Nothing like cutting it close. Jason and Laura came with us, so we enjoyed some final cousin time in the parking lot...

My grandparents called one last time to say "goodbye" to me...I miss you, Grandma and Grandpa! You watch Jeopardy! for me while I'm gone, ok?

We decided to go to the best grocery store in the world (bye Publix...shopping has been a pleasure!) because I had forgotten two of the most important travel needs: gum and lemon drops.

Am I the only one who thinks this gum looks like men's deodorant? Ew.

After that, I went home and packed some more. I was definitely in freak-out mode, trying to fit everything inside of my luggage. I must have weighed and measured my luggage dozens of times. I was so worried that I'd go over the weight limit.

Around midnight, Tomas and I headed back to Jason and Laura's to watch the meteor shower. My heart was already beating fast because I was stressed...and the latte at the coffeeshop didn't help. Then, as I was walking up to their door, Jason and Laura leaped out from behind their car and screamed "BOO!" as I was walking up to their door. I'm so glad my heart held up. ;)

So, yes. I was definitely on edge. I kept asking myself, "Tara, why are you going to watch shooting stars when there are a bazillion things you could be doing at home?"

And then, I lay on the ground.

Wow. I need to watch stars more often. It was so peaceful. I can't even describe what I felt. After hours of fretting and stressing out, I felt calm and reassured. You know how you're supposed to think of a quiet place to help yourself calm down? That is my new quiet place.

I was the last one to see a shooting star. It was rather funny...you get all settled out there, and when you don't see a star right away, you begin to get impatient and say things like...

"Alright, God. This was supposed to start at midnight. Let's get this show on the road..."

But it's not like that. You have to wait and be patient. You have to be still. I missed a ton of stars because I took my eyes off the sky. There are a lot of life lessons in stargazing. I highly recommend it. ;)

When I finally did see a shooting star, I got SO excited. It made my whole night. We saw about a dozen in the two hours we were out. All of my wishes had to do with packing and getting through security at the airport. :)

Ok, funny story. It had been awhile since we saw a shooting star when, suddenly, I saw a beam of light shooting exactly parallel to the ground. I sat up and shrieked, "WOW, LOOK AT THAT ONE!"

It was the lights of a car reflecting off the telephone wires. FAIL.

Around 2AM, Tomas and I drove home. By the time I finished packing, it was suddenly time to get ready. I changed clothes, and tried to get it into my head that just because I hadn't slept didn't mean that a day hadn't passed. Boy, does skipping sleep mess with your mind.

We made it to the airport on time. My poor dad was still very sick. One of the worst parts was getting our bags to the check-in counter. Imagine a man with the flu and a petite girl with no muscles trying to lug seven pieces of heavy luggage around. (And you better believe I got my money's worth--I went right up to the weight limit, but not an ounce over!) My back ached after just a few steps.

My dad had gone ahead at one point, and I was struggling juggling my backpack and suitcases. Some man appeared out of nowhere and helped my hoist my backpack up. Let me describe him. He looked a bit like this guy, and he was wearing sunglasses (indoors), a ski cap, a graphic zip-up hoody, and the craziest pair of patchwork corduroy pants you can imagine. Oh, and he had sparkly pink fingernails. It was surreal, people. I'm still not sure that he wasn't a hallucination from lack of sleep. My dad wasn't there to see him, and the next time I saw Mr. Sparkly Nails, my dad was in the bathroom. My dad came out, Mr. Nails disappeared. Spoooky.

We boarded our plane on time. Is it just me, or do those seats get smaller and closer together every time? I was in a middle seat. I hate middle seats. I couldn't lean on my dad, and though the lady to the other side of me looked super cuddly, I didn't know her, and personal boundaries exist even on planes. So after staying awake for twenty-four hours, I was stuck in an upright position for another four. Good times.

I was tired, so I didn't talk to the lady next to me, even though she gave me plenty of openings. I could tell she was watching me laugh and cry my way through my aunt's letter. (I love it when people give me stuff to read en route. It makes me happy. Thanks again, Auntie K.) It was abnormal for me not to talk to the lady...I always feel like a flight is not a flight unless you're BFFs with the person you were sitting next to by the time you arrive. I was just too tired to care at this point. I'm sure I made a terrible impression, slumped in my seat and actually doing the whole, "Are we there yet?" routine with my dad. I figured I'd never see her again...

Pictures from the air...

I love the pretty colors!

If I didn't know that this was an aerial view of Utah, I'd be convinced that my camera somehow took a close-up picture of Mr. Sparkly Nail's corduroy pants.

Back to the flight. Finally, the movie started. I had looked it up online beforehand: Star Trek. I was so confused when they started The Soloist, but I got all excited, because I wanted to see that one more anyway. About five minutes into the movie, they turned it off and started Star Trek. Whatever.

I actually liked Star Trek. It was fun. But can I just say that having the end narration say, "To boldly go where no one has gone before" just ruined it all for me? People should just put on their big kid underwear and deal with the fact that famous quotes are famous quotes, and they should not be tampered with just to make them gender-neutral. What's next: "One small step for a man; one giant leap for humankind?" Or are we even allowed to use "man" to refer to Neil Armstrong nowadays?

But getting back to the actual movie...it was funny, because we always seemed to go through rough air at the most intense parts of the movie. I had to keep reminding myself that I was flying on Delta, not The Enterprise.

The movie kept being interrupted by announcements from the pilot. At one point, he said, "Has anyone lost a dog? There is a small dog roaming around the cabin that looks a little bit like Toto." I'm just hoping the owner didn't let it out for a potty break...

As our plane landed, I found out that the lady I'd been ignoring for the past four hours was heading on the same connecting flight I was. She lives about 40 minutes from the college. What are the odds? After that, I wished I'd talked to her! She gave me her card anyway and told me to call her if I needed anything. She tells Tupperware, so I know who to call if I need kitchen containers.

We arrived in Lewiston...the best airport in the whole world. It has two gates, one baggage claim area, and a snack bar. The end. Finding my luggage was a piece of cake.

I had been without sleep for 31 hours. This is what I looked like:

Scary stuff.

Here are some pictures of the ride from the airport...

We ate at Applebee's, and then drove to our hotel. I was exhausted. Our room wasn't ready, so we parked in front of the hotel and slept. I fell asleep in ten minutes or so. I woke up when my dad told me our room was ready. I don't know why, but I started insisting that I shouldn't go to sleep. My dad thought I was serious, and started telling me that I needed to sleep. I have no idea what I was saying. I was half-asleep.

We crashed. It was 2:30PM. We didn't wake up until 7:00AM the next morning.

We ran errands the next day, making the obligatory Wal*Mart run. After that, we went to Staples and Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Can I just say that I LOVE Bed, Bath, and Beyond's Pack 'n Go program? A few days before I left home, Laura and I went to the local Bed, Bath, and Beyond and scanned a bunch of stuff.

I felt like I was getting married, registering for stuff like that. :)

"Oh, it's a magnifying mirror? I thought it was a relief map of the moon! These things should be sold with a pre-printed suicide note!" ~Rhoda Morganstern.

Yesterday, I went to the Bed, Bath, and Beyond here in Idaho. I told them my name and all the stuff I scanned in FL was brought up to the front counter. I paid for it, and they helped me out to my car. I am now in love with their store. Everyone, go shop there.

After that, we went to my new home! More on that later... :)

I'm here!

I'm writing this from my iPod Touch using the free version of some blogging app. Because it is the free version, I can't upload pictures, which is a shame because I have some to post. I'll have to wait until I get back to my laptop. Oh. Come to think of it, that's where all the pictures are in the first place, so the fact that this app won't let me upload them is a moot point. Duh, Tara.

I'm at my new home right now. I just finished unpacking a few suitcases and making my bed. It still hasn't hit me that I am LIVING here for the next nine months.

My dad is still very sick, so he is back at the hotel. I'll have to give a proper update once I get back there and can type on my laptop instead of this virtual keypad. I have a lot of stories about our trip out here. What a trip! Love you all...

Eek.

What is wrong with me?! I was just spreading mayonnaise on two pieces of bread for a sandwich, and I actually considered going heavy on the mayo and just calling it a day. A mayonnaise sandwich. Happy Tara would think that's vile. Stressed Tara wants five of them, cut on the diagonal please.

Apparently, I crave high-fat foods when I'm stressed. Yesterday, I was filled with the insane urge to squirt the rest of the Reddi-Whip into my mouth. I tried, got it all over my face, and was reprimanded harshly by my little brother for being gross. Um, yeah. When your little brother tells you that you're the gross one, you should probably stop.

If I don't calm down, I won't fit into any of the clothes I packed.

I always freak out right before I go on a trip. The night before I went on my first mission trip, I was literally curled up in a ball sobbing. My coping skills gave gotten a bit better, but I am still incredibly pathetic the night before I go somewhere. I'll probably be fine on the plane. It's just the getting there.

Oh, wow. Praise the Lord. In the middle of writing this post, "Aunt" Cheryl stopped by and brought me my favorite sort of present--the kind you can eat! And guess what?

It's high in fat. YAY! I love you, Aunt Cheryl!! :)

Chocolate-covered potato chips help. A lot.

But my dad still has the flu, and my room is still messy, my bags are bursting at the seams, and there is still a drawer I haven't even looked at. Oh, and library books. Phooey, the library has already closed. I think I had fines there, too. And I was supposed to tell my librarian BFFs goodbye. Bother.

I think I'm going to go stuff my face with more chocolate-covered potato chips.

Pray for my dad, please. This illness must have hit him all of the sudden, because just last night we were joking around and having fun. I was trying to convince him that I absolutely positively NEEDED to pack my pair of two-toned green and brown 4-inch heels, and the argument "But they're sooooo cute!" wasn't working. I even made my lower lip quiver. That bought me my red patent leather flats, but the green shoes are going to just hang out in my closet for a few months. ;) (My dad also tried to test my theory that leaving some things behind was more painful than having my toenails pulled out by a pair of rusty pliers. My quick reflexes saved my big toe.)

Anyway. I just found out about the meteor shower tonight, and with the prime time being between midnight and 4AM, I'm seriously considering not going to bed tonight. I can sleep on the plane, right? :)

Swagbucks...

Alright, class. Today we are going to talk about search engines. Raise your hand if you use Google. Ok, ok, that's most of you. You in the back, wake up!

How many of you would be willing to switch search engines if it meant you got rewards in return? Most of you?

How many of you think I should stop pretending to be a teacher and just get on with the blog post? All of you? Well, ok . . . enough with the classroom thing, then.

Seriously, people. If you haven't heard of Swagbucks, prepare to be excited. Here's how it works.

You search for things on the internet, and in return you get free stuff. The end.

Okay, if you're like me...you're probably about to rush off and Google this thing and make sure it's not a scam. Go ahead and do that.

You back already? Can't find anything about it being a scam? That's because it's not.

Oh, and one more thing. That Google search you just did? If you had searched with Swagbucks, you could have earned something for that. Oh well. ;)

Swagbucks NEVER asks you for your credit card information or anything like that. The only information you have to give them is your e-mail address and a mailing address so that they can ship all your prizes to you.

I know, I know--it can't be that simple, right? Wrong.

I just redeemed a $5 Amazon e-gift card that I earned sitting on my rear doing my normal internet-searching activities. I spent it all on music:

"Laughing With" by Regina Spektor (iTunes price: $1.29)

"Eet" by Regina Spektor (iTunes price: $1.29)

"Folding Chair" by Regina Spektor (iTunes price: $1.29)

"Going to the Ceili" by Celtic Woman (iTunes price: $1.29)

"Our House" by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young (iTunes price: $1.29)

Yes, I am on a Regina Spektor kick. Anyway.

How much would all of that have cost me on iTunes?

$6.45.

How much did it cost me using the Amazon gift card I earned for free using the Swagbucks search engine?

Nothing.

I'm really making two points with this example. First, use Swagbucks. That's the most important thing. Secondly, try buying your music from Amazon instead of iTunes. All those $1.29 songs on iTunes were only $0.99 on Amazon, which is why I was able to get all five of them with a $5 gift card. But if you feel loyal to iTunes, just use your Swagbucks to "buy" an iTunes gift card. Amazon gift cards are FAR from the only prize you can get in the Swag Store. They have all sorts of prizes, but the gift cards are my favorite.

It's impossible to give you the exchange rate of dollars to Swagbucks. It varies from prize to prize. The $5 Amazon e-gift card was 45 SB. A $10 Barnes and Noble gift card is 125 SB. A $15 iTunes gift card is 185 SB.

And how do you GET these Swagbucks again? Like I said, by doing something that you probably already do EVERY day: searching the internet. All you have to do is search with Swagbucks' search engine. You will earn the bucks at random, so don't get disappointed when they don't pop up every time. I tell you--it will make it THAT much more special when you see a gleaming image of a Swagbuck shimmering at the top of your search results. I generally jump up, squeal and clap like a little kid. Yay for cheap thrills! :)

There are other ways to earn Swagbucks. You should explore the Swagbucks website. You can follow them on Twitter and find special "Swagcodes" which automatically give you more Swagbucks.

I don't really get into the Swagcodes, so I earn my Swagbucks at a slower rate than hard-core Swaggers. I still try to get a few each day, though.

Swagbuck's results come from Google and Ask.com, so it's not too shabby of a search engine. I'll be honest though. I still find myself coming back to Google. I'm not trying to convince you that Swagbucks is better than Google. It's not, as far as searching goes. But Google doesn't give me free things, so... :)

Go sign up at Swagbucks! You have nothing to lose . . . except awesome prizes. ;)

Oh, one more thing...

Another way you can earn Swagbucks is by referring others. If you click that box on the right side of the screen that says Swagbucks, it will take you to my referral page. If you sign up through that page and start to use Swagbucks.com yourself, I earn extra Swagbucks.

If you're anything like me, you might be thinking, "So, THAT'S why she's been raving about this thing--because she GETS something out of it. I bet Swagbucks isn't really all that great."

This isn't like one of those awkward Tupperware parties where you feel obligated to buy burpy kitchen containers just because the host is your best friend's cousin's hairdresser. Sign up through my referral link or not...I don't care. Just sign up.

Oh, and you won't have to convince others to join either. This blog post is my only attempt at referring others. Prior to this, I have earned my bucks totally on my own. I promised myself that I wouldn't try to convince anyone of the magic of Swagbucks until I actually had received a prize...and thanks to Swagbucks, my iPod just got five songs fuller.

Let me know if you have any questions. :)

Yes, another post about decluttering...

Part of the pre-packing process included getting my "Special Box" down from the attic. Each of my siblings has one. Leah went through hers when she got married, but it has been years since I opened mine.

It was a hilarious experience. On the very bottom was a book I wrote for my brother when I was in first grade called "Tara's Book of Buttons and of Belly Buttons." Now there's a catchy title! I kept that, of course, but I chucked--among other things--all the silly VBS crafts that were falling apart and a few pillows I sewed as a kid.

Most of the items were clothes. I kept all the ones that my mom had kept for me--her trench coat from the '70's...the homemade stuff my grandma made. I loved wearing those outfits as a kid, and it'll make a nice addition to my future daughters' dress-up box if nothing else.

But then there were the things like...

These shorts.

They are just a pair of cotton shorts, and an ugly pair at that. But--for some reason--I wanted to keep them. When I took them out the other day, I stretched the waist and heard the sound of crumbling. Elastic is not forever. Bye-bye, ugly cotton shorts.

I at least understood why this outfit was in there. It was my absolute favorite when I was around the age of six--I wore it all the time.

Sadly, however--I was a messy eater, and the proof is all over the shirt.

This outfit came with a red belt.

A belt, I might add, which still fits. ;) Haha.

How can you resist that flower buckle? ;) Yep, I kept the belt, but threw the outfit into the Goodwill pile.

Alright, people. Are you ready for this next picture? I just want to warn you. What you are about to see may disturb you. One of my first sewing projects...

That's an angel. A really creepy angel. I'm pretty sure that it used to have hair, but I probably pulled it off during a sermon one Sunday. (Yes, I actually took this thing to church. It held my Bible and pens, and I was so proud of the fact that I made it.) I bet everyone else was jealous of my alien bag. I mean angel bag. Yeah, that's what I meant.

I'm not going to lie. I couldn't give this away. It makes me laugh, and for that reason alone, it's sticking around.

I'm half-tempted to start carrying it again. ;)

In which I have too much stuff...

I've only been on this planet for eighteen years, one month, and twenty-one days. How have I amassed so much stuff?

It seems like every few hours, I lug a full garbage bag into the garage to either give away or throw away.

I have mixed feelings about the whole process. It's incredibly cathartic to purge, to simplify, to get back to the basics, but every so often...just as my hand is hovering over the garbage bag, the giant nostalgic monster attacks. It's not pretty.

Example:

Me: This doll is gross. Look at her dress; it's all stained.

Giant Nostalgia Monster: But...but...that was your favorite doll! When you first got her, you were the same size! How could you give away such an important member of your doll family?

Me: Doll family? What in the world? Seriously, did you just come up with that to make me feel guilty?

GNM: Yes. I know how to manipulative you perfectly.

Me: I hate you.

In the end, I won. Bye-bye, dolly!

I'm off to go through more stuff. This cleaning mood I'm in will not last long, so I'd better milk it for all it's worth right now!

Um, what?

Reality TV is my guilty pleasure, so I was enjoying America's Got Talent, up until Episode 12.

Ok, watch this girl.

Now watch this one.

Guess which one made it to the semi-finals?

You'd think it would be the harpist. You know, the one with actual talent. The one who is a motivational speaker and therefore already has stage experience. The one who is twenty-nine years old, and therefore, has a better understanding of what hard work is all about. You'd think that, wouldn't you?

But nope, it was bye-bye to Rashida, while Eleisha gets to stick around for a few more weeks at most. (Honestly, how long can they keep her? She has NO talent.)

I get it--she's cute, she'll boost ratings. Whatever. Just wait ten years...when she's a high school senior, and she still has that diva attitude, tell me it's cute. I dare you.

Best wishes, Rashida. You're too talented for America, apparently.

In honor of cousins... :)

July 25th was Cousin's Day--a very momentous holiday in my family. It's almost as important to us as "Sneak a Zucchini on Your Neighbor's Porch Day" (August 8th--get ready!).

It all started last year. Laura and I found out that it was Cousin's Day, so we used it as an excuse to get together. She came to pick me up...and she was wearing plaid shorts. Coincidentally, I was wearing plaid shoes and a plaid headband, and when Tomas came out of his room to say "hi," it was discovered that he was wearing plaid shorts as well.

We declared plaid the official garb for Cousin's Day. We made sure Jason wore it, too. Leah was on her honeymoon, so we decided she was exempt from participating. Stefan didn't really play along, but we forced him to drape a plaid scarf around his head...

This year, Jason's graduation party fell on Cousin's Day. I told everyone to wear plaid...and even though they complained, everyone did . . . except ONE person. That would be me. Heh. Oops.

Pictures from last year...

I truly believe that you do not know me unless you have seen me with Laura. We speak a different language when we are together. Or at least a different dialect. Our relationship...well, it's sooo spiritual--it's like we're joined at the soul. The soul!!! (Those who haven't seen Tim Hawkin's piece on "Young Love" need to go Google it!) Laura always makes me feel better when I have to do something I don't want to do...and she is the best person to tell my embarrassing moments to, because she understands how painful certain things are and doesn't say things like, "No one will ever remember." (I think that's a lie, but maybe that's because I always remember everyone else's embarrassing moments. I met a priest over two years ago at a rehearsal. His zipper was down the entire time he was on stage, and no one told him. I was hoping his wife would. I certainly wasn't!) Anyway. Back to Laura. She's amazing. :)

Then there's her older brother. Jason is...Jason. If you know him, you understand. If you don't know him, you haven't yet begun to live. He is unlike anyone you will ever meet. Totally insane, but in a good way. Laura, Jason, Tomas, and I make up the Awesome Foursome--also known as "The Only Cousins in Town Who Aren't Married."

Here are some pictures from my scrapbook. Sorry for the bad quality. I didn't feel like scanning them.

This one pretty much defines our early relationship. I was such an attention hog. Laura has forgiven me for being so bratty.

Remember those headbands, Laura?

One of our many sleepovers. One time, I had a play date over at her house. We planned that I would secretly pack like I was going to a sleepover...and when my mom came to pick me up, we BEGGED our moms to let me stay the night. They sighed and said, "But Tara doesn't have her stuff..." I triumphantly pulled my backpack out, and said, "Ha! Yes, I do!" I slept over. :)

Our other tactic was to write our moms a note that generally read:

Dearest Mothers,

Mayest we havest a sleepover? We love each other so much...almost as much as we love you. Won't you please letest us sleepoverest? Your Loving Daughters, Laura and Tara"

We thought added "-est" to the end made things magically more polite.

We got our ears pierced together. Who let me out of the house with that bow? My sense of style has changed slightly since I was ten...

More recently...

Cousin's Day THIS year. We went water-skiing...

The beach at our hotel in Key Largo.

We drove two hours to eat breakfast at this restaurant on the beach. It was so worth it.

Fourth of July!

The night David proposed to Leah. If you think I look frightening in that picture, it's because I was insanely giddy. We were drinking sparkling grape juice, but from the way I was acting, you'd have thought it was straight vodka. I was kinda happy about the whole thing. ;)

The Awesome Foursome in the Southernmost part of the U.S.

If (or more likely "when") I get homesick in Idaho, it'll be these people I think of...

LOVE YOU GUYS! :)