We'll Start At The Very Beginning...

...a very good place to start.

My camera tells me I left off at the 4th of July.

Yes, I know it is almost September.


Grandma Sandy. Gorgeous!

My cousin Max.

Cody and Aunt Tracy, these two always end up next to each other.

Decorations. Spirit. Ect. :)

Rich, Aaron, Grandpa and Randy among others.

Please look at the conversation going on between my mom and my brother. I know that look, it doesn't look promising.

This is my grandpa, one time something happened to do with gas and pipes or whatever (I tuned out when he explained it to me) on my grandpa's BBQ and flames started coming off the edges of the handles. This was back in the day when we had little uns running around and I will always remember the moms snatching up children left and right, keeping them as far away from my grandpa's BBQ as possible. I'll also remember my grandpa trying to turn off the handles without burning himself. I think this story is mentioned every Fourth. Those little uns are now in high school.

This is my mom, my Uncle Brian and my Aunt Barb. My Aunt Barb is the life of the party, any party, all parties. She is the best. I always refer to Brian (her son) as the ultimate Frat guy, not the gross ones, the really popular and tan ones. Brian is also awesome.

Wouldgya look at this?? Three generations of sittin' around doing nothing. While...

The ladies hustle and bustle to get things ready. Typical.

I love Fourth of July with the family. Great food. Super casual. Lots of love and conversation in the air. I truly have the best family ever, I especially remember that on the Fourth.

Good Lord, it's been awhile...

Dear Lil' Blog O' Mine,

I am so sorry that it has been months since I updated you. The reasons are many:

1) I was living 20 minutes away from everyone who reads this blog and it just seemed pointless.

d) I was busy and stuff.

H) I was trying to find a place to live. Not easy.

7) I was working full time.

!) It was summer and I didn't want to stare at a computer any more then I needed to.

3) I was tired and stuff.

5) I was moving and packing and shaking and grooving.

L) A little more moving than grooving.

20) And a little more packing than shaking.

*strong urge to pronounce that shacking or paking so that it would rhyme*

I digress. Sorry for the lack of commitment, I'll try harder.

I'm back for a blog attack!

**Author's note: Please excuse the sadness that is this post, my life has changed so much lately that I my head is still adjusting. For example: I had to lock up chickens and ducks tonight in furry "outside" shoes. All by myself. Because I now own chickens and ducks. And they're out of feed. I must lie down.**

Confused and enthused,

Christina

A Teacher's Perspective

At dinner tonight I looked at my grandpa and said,

"I still can't believe that they put you in charge of 30 students."

He responded, "I don't think they ever did, they were all in charge of me".

"That sounds more accurate."

"I've learned so much from kids over the years..."

Aww, how nice, I thought.

"... cuss words especially".

Figures.

The Depths To Which One Can Sink

At the personal request of my mother I am going to share the following tale...

In May, my grandpa fell. He scratched up his leg and ended up with a hematoma because he is on blood thinners. A hematoma, as far as I can tell is a huge, disgusting lump on the side of your leg which takes a very long time to recover from. I'm basically ready for med school.

As a side note: my grandpa went to the doctor after a week of sitting in bed so that he could have this bump diagnosed and the doctor refused to touch him, began pacing back and forth and then told my grandpa that it was so serious he could loose his leg or die.

My grandpa laughed. It's the kind of guy he is.

After another doctor proclaimed the leg wasn't a death sentence, we all breathed a sigh of relief and told him to keep resting.

He ignored us, naturally. That's the kind of guy he is.

As another side note: For those of you who don't know. I work from home. Currently, my grandparents home. Occasionally I waddle downstairs in the morning to grab some crackers or fruit or whatever for breakie.

This will all come in to play later. BTW.

So, one morning my grandma comes in and notifies me that she is taking a bath and should the phone ring would I mind answering it? I advised her I would definitely answer any calls and asked what my grandpa was up to. She told me, "He's outside working on his plants, against my wishes". It's the kind of guy he is.

My grandma heads off to the bath and I head downstairs to get a cracker fix. As I am walking through the kitchen I see my grandpa, gardening. Let me paint you a little picture:

He is sitting on a little stool trimming some plants in a planter box. My grandparents backyard has a decent sized pool in it and there is a walkway around the backside of the pool which is about four feet above the waters surface. This is where the box is that my grandpa is working on.

I mosey on through the kitchen, grab my crackers and on the way back out of the kitchen I hear a splash...he'd done a back flip off the stool and into the water.

Oh my God he just had a heart attack and died. I think, whirling around and running to the screen door. I fumble with the lock and by the time I get it unlocked, I look up and see my grandpa, standing upright staring at the bottom of the pool.

He's not dead. Good start, I think as I ask, "Are you okay?"

"Yea, I'm fine, just going for a dip." He says, lifting the stool out of the water.

"Oh, so you're telling me you did this on purpose?"

"Yep, just wanted to cool off," he says diving for his hat.

"With your glasses on?" I ask as he dives for those.

"Uh-huh," he mumbles.

"Did you hurt your leg?"

"No, I'm soaking it," he says diving for his hat.

"Right, do you want me to get you a towel?" I ask.

"No, Neen, I think I'll just drip dry," he says.

Because if you dirty a towel Grandma will know you fell in, I think to myself. "Okay," I say.

As I'm closing the door he calls out, "Hey Neen...?"

"Yea?"

"Don't tell anyone about this okay?"

"Yea, sure." I say, slamming the door and marching up the stairs to tell my grandma what happened. She is, of course, furious. "See what happens when people go against my wishes?" and heads downstairs to call him inside.

My grandpa sits with me in the den, where I work, and keeps eyeing me, I am sure trying to tell if I've finked on him or not. My grandma makes a reference about carefulness and he tells her, "I'm the king of careful". It's the kind of guy he is.

After a short lecture from my grandma and an inspection of his leg we all moved on. I of course, spread the story about our family with vigor, encouraged by the hysterical laughs I got. It's the kind of gal I am.

When my mom heard the story she asked a question which really put the cherry right on top though.

"Hey Dad, how many times have you done that before without anyone knowing?"

"Only about three or four", he replied.

That's the kind of family we are.

Role Models

About a month ago, in one of my classes we had a guest speaker present to the class. He was a local couple's therapist who shared information about his clients, his practice and his theories. He told us he is often asked "What makes a successful couple?". I am sure many people out there have the same question and I liked his answer. He says:


"A successful couple gets through the good and bad times together."


We all deal with conflict differently and I've learned that if you sit around listening long enough, people usually have a good reason for why they do the things they do. When it comes to turmoil there are the avoiders, the screamers, the talkers, the judgers, the pacifiers, the stonewallers, the excusers, the confusers...the list goes on and on. We all have our own unique ways of dealing with conflict and conflict management skills are crucial in a marriage. After all, as my guest speaker says, "any marriage a week old has ground for divorce".


In my family, I sometimes feel that marriage is not valued or commended in the way it is in some families. Two of my friends are getting married and their families reacted to the news with such joy and seriousness. The committment they are making is recognized as exciting but also as something very real and important to the entire family system. That's not to say that my family isn't excited by marriage or that they don't take it seriously but to be honest, I don't have a whole lot of successful examples of marriage in my life. But where we lack in quantity we make up for in quality...


Today is my grandparents 43rd wedding anniversary. 43 years! That is amazing. And I would like to take the time to commend them. What a wonderful accomplishment!


When I describe my grandparents to other people I use one specific example, which, of course, my grandma hates.



You know Frank and Marie from Everybody Loves Raymond? Yep...that's them. My grandma doesn't think this is a compliment, she actually finds it quite insulting. But I like it. And I'm always right. ;)


In reality, I use the example of Frank and Marie because they are similar to my grandparents in several ways; both couples tell eachother exactly what they are thinking without fear of judgement or abandonment, both couples bicker enough to get their frustrations out so that they can move on to enjoying eachother's company (cheers to conflict resolution), both couples care about their family more then they care about themselves, both couples look alike (seriously, they do), and both couples know their spouse so well it is truly like they are two parts to the same whole.


My grandma also yells "Jer!" just like Marie yells "Frank" but that's neither here nor there.


Anyways, what I want to say is that I am really proud of my grandparents and their marriage. I deem it quite a success. Their committment is inspiring and they are wonderful role models, as individuals and as a couple. Congratulations grandma and grandpa! I love you!


XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO


PS. My grandma gets really upset if you write her something and don't put hugs and kisses.


XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"The Youts Of Today" As My Grandpa Would Say

What is up with the youts of today?

They can't answer you right now, they are busy.

I have noticed a trend among my peers lately. We are overworked, overstressed and over it. This semester I really took part in my classes and made some new friends. Of my new friends it seems to me that those of us who are working, are WORKING. And those who aren't, AREN'T.

For example, one of my friends literally sat down with me crying, saying that she was losing all of her friends because her job was so demanding of her she didn't have time for anyone else. I too, feel like I have lost friends for the same reason.

If I total up the amount of time I spent in class this semester, as well as weekly meetings for class and time working my job that amounts to about 50 hours a week. 50 hours a week without homework! Basically I work a 60 hour week between school and work.

I am burnt out and I am 21. That's alarming.

So many of my friends say they don't feel like they are living their lives. They don't feel connected the the people and things around them. They want to spend some time outdoors.

My friends who are pleased with their lives either live off of mom and dad's dime or they don't live in this country.

It's sad, but true.

Your twenties are supposed to be a time in your life when you can do it up big...and we are.

Big jobs, big debt, big responsibilities...and we do it all for a reason.

Big dreams.

But, man! It's exhausting...

Todays Adventures

Today Cody and I went out to Crane Creek Regional Park which is a part of the Sonoma County Regional Park system for some trail walkin'. We had an awesome time!


To me this picture is Sonoma County, this is what I think of when I think Sonoma. :)


The open road...and pretty grass.


This is the bridge where my life almost ended.

Because it was covered in these things...

As was the rest of the trail. Cody was intent on catching one. It was horrifying. I screamed and ran. He laughed. It was all quite traumatizing.

I had to take photos of the little bubbling stream to calm myself.

While Cody stalked the little buggers shouting that if Anthony was here Anthony would catch them with him. So invite Anthony. Dur.

Meanwhile I took photos of the Spanish Moss. I love Spanish Moss. I also love this tree.

And I love Cody. Although the jury is still out on whether or not he loves the lizards more then me.

Here's Cody, admiring the views. And mooing at the cows. He does that. I love him anyways.

On a completely different topic: there were all these weird cagey things all over and groups of boys with frisbees and Cody explained that they were playing "Frisbee Golf". Who knew such things existed in our world?

Check out my bokah. =) I love barbed wire.

I also love this cow. Isn't he precious?

He was hiding...not very well.
Check out this bee. And check out this huge, prickly weed. I stayed as far away from both as possible.

Cody leading the way, finding peace among nature.

Today was fun!

Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!

Oh Dear, I want this kitty.


Look how small and precioso!

I live in a world of temptation. It is quite frustrating!

Closure

As of right now I have one final left of my junior year of college.

I have boxes ready to move out of my last dorm room ever.

Can I get an amen?

AMEN.

I've mentioned my Intro to Counseling class before, and about a month ago my professor told us to start thinking about and discussing closure.

Closure. Huh? Well, that's a thinker. I thought closure was only obtained once you've eaten a box of chocolates over The Notebook and had a bonfire of your ex's pictures. Maybe I'm mistaken?

Are you breaking up with me or something?

I will always remember my classmate saying, "So, I get the closure thing, but, umm, what are we supposed to do?"

"Bring it up, bring it forward."

What a Psych answer: talk about it.

In trying to close up shop within my class, I've thought about the concept much more. I'm realizing that our culture doesn't know how to deal with closure. We don't deal with good-bye's.

We've all heard the phrases "I'm turning a new leaf...or a new page...or I'm starting a new chapter". What if we weren't comfortable leaving that last chapter or that last page? What if we weren't finished?

What happens at the end of the book?

The last few years of my life have been an endless cycle of transitions. I go home, I go to school, I go to my grandparents, I work in the office, I work at home, I end this semester and start that one and things rarely seem set in stone. I'm an chameleon. I change according to my current environment. But I am not sure I feel according to my current environment.

Do chameleon feel blue when they turn blue? Do they notice the change? Or do they just go through their lives, changing, and never paying homage to the places they've been and the way their environment has impacted them?

Do we recognize how change affects us? Maybe it wouldn't be so scary if we dealt with the emotions around it. If we worked through things.

I guess what I want to do is take a moment and bring it up and bring it forward.

I'm closing another year, and it has had an unique affect, even if I've done it before.

Junior year meant:

~Applying for graduation, then changing my mind. Really starting to think about what I want to do for forever, scary process but I am considering what is important to me and what isn't, which is a good thing.

~Going to Europe to visit best friends who I miss terribly. I still can't believe that we even went sometimes. As a result I have a serious travel bug.

~Moving out of a dorm, to a world of rent; and loving the concept. Check back with me when I actually start writing checks.

~Living with my grandparents and setting up a new home base at their home. Similar to living on the set of Everybody Loves Raymond.

~Turning 21, ordering a daiquiri and deciding it's not just the concept of alcohol I don't like, but the taste.

~Dedicating myself to actually reading all my school books and almost killing myself in the process. I'm an excellent overworker.

This year has meant many things. Lots of changes and new experiences. And it's over.

Ka-put. The end. Closed.

I'm not sure how I feel about it. But I am noticing the end and anticipating the beginning of something new.

See ya in summer!

This Week Is A Toughy

Last night Cody gave me a hug and said:


"I love you so much."


I looked in his eyes, took a deep breath, and said:


"I have mixed feelings about you."

It's been one of those weeks.

Feeling The Echo

I am feeling a bit lonely on this here blog.

Hello!

Hello!??

Is there anybody 0ut there??

Hello!!??

So if you read this, even if you think it sucks, please let me know that you're out there.

Shhankss! And while your thanking me for my ingenious blog, go get yourself a Madeleine...

Because boy are they deeee-rish-ious!! I like to nibble on them and pretend I am French...

Regarde-moi manger ce madeleine, c'est delicieux!

Food Inc.

I was avoiding the documentary Food, Inc. for awhile; I knew it would be disgusting, horrifying and revolting. I knew it would likely make me hate my government and big business. I knew it would leave me with outraged questions, ready to hop a plane to D.C. and start lobbying my ass off.

It didn't disappoint.

Please watch this film. Encourage the ones you love to watch this film. Buy local, make an educated vote and TP the White House. And if my words aren't enough to encourage you to do so; here is some information from their site to freak you out...you know, in a good way.

"Approximately 10 billion animals (chickens, cattle, hogs, ducks, turkeys, lambs, and sheep) are raised and killed in the US annually. Nearly all of them are raised on factory farms under inhumane conditions. These industrial farms are also dangerous for their workers, pollute surrounding communities, are unsafe to our food system and contribute significantly to global warming."

"In Food, Inc. we meet Barbara Kowalcyk, whose 2 year old son, Kevin, died from E.Coli poisoning after eating a hamburger. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates that 76 million Americans are sickened, 325,000 are hospitalized and 5,000 die each year from foodborne illnesses. Although Kevin's law is not in Congress right now, there are other important national food safety legislation pending now for you to support."

"Did you know that the average food product travels about 1,500 miles to get to your grocery store. And that transporting food accounts for 30,800 tons of greenhouse gas emissions every year?"

"In January 2008, the FDA approved the sale of meat and milk from cloned livestock, despite the fact that Congress voted twice in 2007 to delay FDA's decision on cloned animals until additional safety and economic studies could be completed."

For more information please rent the movie or visit their website at the following link:
http://www.foodincmovie.com/

F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

When Friends first went on the air a critic claimed the show had "no sex and bad jobs". Interesting because in episode one Monica sleeps with someone on the first date and we all know that paleontologist is the best job on the planet...right? In another interview the writers said that they wanted to write a series about your late twenties, "a time in your life when your friends are your family".


College has been a true experience. It wasn't until last year that I really experienced what the writers were talking about though. Last year I was blessed with the kind of friends that could act as my support system and family. I could walk in the front door and they would know what kind of mood I was in, and on top of that, all I would have to do is say one word and they knew what was wrong or right in my world at any given time. Those sorts of people are special.

I know that when I reflect on my college experience, that will be the year I think of. I will always remember dinner parties with friends; debating politics, religion and current events with other educated individuals who may have different opinions but always have respect. Making enough food to feed a village and staying up into the night without t.v. on, just celebrating our relationships.



I'll remember Jordan teaching me about the history of mankind and anthropology; and complaining about the 20 textbooks she had to read that semester. I'll remember Hillary shoving me out of the way so that she could do the dishes, even though she already made dinner. I'll remember Corynn wearing shawls and dresses of every color, sitting on the floor, pleading with Cody to make pumpkin pie. I'll remember Sean thanking me for feeding him and knowing that his thanks were genuine. I'll remember Joe bringing me pictures of his life in Etna, just so he could tell me stories about how he lives his life. I'll remember Cody grabbing the cookie dough bowl and mixing it for me when he knows I have another billion things on my mind.


So they may not be Joey, Chandler, Ross, Pheobe, Rachael or Monica, but I'll take them.

Because as much as I love the Friends gang....

I love my friends gang more.

Too often we forget about what matters in life, we forget to appreciate the people who make our lives great. The bottom line is my work won't bring me soup when I'm sick, my homework won't hold my hand when I cry and my busy schedule won't ever be enough for me. Humans need interaction, we are biologically programmed for loving relationships. I have many of them in my life. And I need to remember to be thankful for those people.

We All Do.

The Case Of The Light Bulb

This weekend I started packing. Granted it was only three boxes and a bookshelf but still, it's packing. We have four weeks left in the semester but I typically start packing at about this time. It makes it easier all the way around. It makes me feel accomplished.

Anyways, as I am packing I decide that one of my lamps can head to the storage unit. I love the lights in my room but I haven't been able to use said light because...well, because I am stubborn.

Let's reflect shall we?

Let's journey back in time several (several!) months. It was a time of sadness and depression and many tears on my part...I forget what my problem was but for whatever reason it was a hard week. Anywho, so there I am having a hard week. All I want to do is get home after trudging my feet through the snow, uphill, both ways, to get to my dorm so I can turn on a light and have some peace.

As fate would have it, as I walk in my room, a flurry of snowflakes dusting off my coat and reach for the light...it decides to die on me.

Right there, publicly. With a bright flash of light that bulb decided it had enough and the whole world went dark. I felt it's absence deeply...until I found my way to my other light which was noble enough not to fail me in the midst of my bad week.

I am dealing with my feelings of betrayal in therapy, thanks for your concern.

Anyways, so there I am, bad week, one light, feeling a bit blue.

Enter Cody.

Said through hysterical sobs..."can you...please...get me a new light bulb???"

Cody responds, (likely thinking to himself "geez if all I have to do is buy a light bulb to make this madness stop count me in!"), "Yes, I will get you a new light bulb".

And here I sit, packing my lamp, months later, bulb-less.

So why didn't I just buy my own dang light bulb? My reasons are three-fold:

a) Some might claim I have a stubborn nature. I am not convinced but whatever.

b) In my mind, changing the light bulb is a boy job (interesting as I changed the light bulbs growing up in our house) and for a psych major I held on to this gender stereotype with passion, clinging to it and casting myself as a helpless girl who couldn't possibly know what to do with a light bulb. It was Cody's job. So he should do it (even if that made me a total idiot).

c) It gave me some leverage in arguments where I realllly wanted Cody to do something. For example: When I say, "Cody dear, can you please help me tonight by making dinner?" he would respond with "Sure, I can do that for you" and then if I didn't believe him I could snap back with "YEA LIKE YOU FIXED THE LIGHT BULB???"

Maturity is one of my highest attributes. Anyways, so I used the whole light bulb bit on Cody the other day and finally, he snapped.

When he stopped by later he came in beaming...light bulb in hand.

The very day that I decide to pack the lamp up is the day the...light goes off in his head.

I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself.

So I kindly tell him that I planned on packing the light up and I appreciate the bulb but I am going to have to just pack that up too.

On a high from his genius...he begins unwrapping the bulb and declares that it can just sit in the lamp until we unpack this summer.

Rational, as always, I say, and I quote: "What if it breaks?"

As I say this Cody pops open the shrink wrapping with a bit too much force and the bulb slips out and lands on my floor...shattering into a million pieces. Into my carpet.

My life is ironical.

The end.

Fret Not, I'm Just Having An Episode Here.

Sometimes I really, really, hate being a Psych major. Today, for example, I really, really hate being a Psych major. It is not a typical major. The Global Studies department doesn't ask you about your early childhood and your Mathematics professor doesn't want to know about the emotional scarring your parents inflicted on you. They just don't.

My professors do. Normally, not a very big deal for me. Normally. Today, for example, it was a big deal for me.

One of my professors is my personal hero. I could not adore her more. She is incredibly gifted in her work and has been through traumas I can't even describe. She's inspiring.

As I said, she is gifted. Incredibly gifted. She can peg you in two seconds. She pegged me in two seconds.

(Whimper)

My apologies, I was just reliving it.

Anyways, in my class with this professor we have separated into groups and we meet with our groups and play counselor. Over the semester we meet in 24 sessions in different roles, counselor, client and witness. Then we have a supervision meeting. Naturally you are all aware that all good therapists have supervisors and speak to them regularly.

The supervision meeting is with my professor and we talk about how things are going. Obviously I cannot discuss the gritty details here because as you all know, all good therapists practice the strictest rules of confidentiality and I have heard that the Internet isn't actually all that private.

But, I can tell you about my experience.

As the client, I find myself holding back. I hear my group members speak every week so I know what makes them tick and what things they like and as a result of this knowledge, I hold back.

I don't talk about anything confrontational or oppositional to their views, I don't discuss anything real.

As I am eloquently stumbling my way through this explanation, my professor looks at me sitting there wiggling, uncomfortable, messy and says:

"I can see you holding back now...what's that about?"

Ugh, I thought. Suddenly feeling like I was pinned exactly where I sat. "Iono" I mumbled. Very intelligent response, I know.

Normal people let people go when they are sitting there squirming. Psychologists, the good ones, don't. So she kept staring, and I kept squirming and then she says:

"So, what is it that makes them more important then you."

Oh crap, I thought. And just in case my psyche didn't fully process it the first time, the sentence went echoing through my brain, screaming at me.

"So, what is it that makes them more important then you."
"So, what is it that makes them more important then you."
"So, what is it..."

So there I sat, can open...worms everywhere. Completely stuck. My brilliant response was: "Yeeaa."

She let me off the hook then and of course, as a Psych major I couldn't do what most of Small Town America would do with this uncomfortable realization and tuck it away to repress for a lifetime. I had to let it marinate. Through eight hours of class. And as it marinated, I thought, well, she's right, of course.

I do put other people first. I put an incredible amount of time and energy into making sure other people aren't upset. We call it "the tendency to co". A therapist who...well I was going to say "A therapist who co's sucks" but then I realized there are no co therapists because they all burned out in grad school.

The future looks bright.

Ugh. Anyways, the point is that learning about yourself isn't easy but it does present an opportunity for change.

So now I am going to be a hard-ass. Look out world!

That sounded weak to me too....

So now I am going to be a HARD-ASS! DAGNABIT!

Okay...so I am going to work on it. Or something.

This sucks.

Now, off to declare my Underwater Basket Weaving major. Wish me luck!

Time Is Passing

The semester is almost over, we only have about a month left. I am a bit stunned. This is not unusual, I often feel this way at the end of the semester. Surprised that I survived, mostly. How did I get here? Wasn't it just August?

Where does time go?

I suppose it doesn't really go anywhere because it isn't alive and therefore a verb can't be applied to the concept and secondly, it is a human invention so how can it leave us?

Time passes.

Quickly.

Oops, "passes" is a verb too. Whatever you get what I am saying. Right? Hello? Is there anybody out there? (tap tap) Is this thing on????

Where was I? Time was passing.

And what do we do with it? I do the wrong things. I do the things I should do instead of the things I want to do. But don't we all?

What makes up the shoulds of our lives? Cultural norms, familial expectations, job limitations, financial obligations?

What makes up the wants? Dreams, aspirations, selfishness, hunger, self-actualization?

I prefer the latter.

But will I change? I would like to think so. I would like to think that if I really felt I was wasting time I could re-evaluate my life and prioritize according to my goals. According to things that matter to me.

But I am human.

So maybe I will, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll wish I did. Maybe I won't.

Do others feel this way? I am sure they do. As a psych major I am pretty sure that all feelings are relatable and very rarely are they unique.

What things do people out there do because they think they should? What do you want to do? What do you wish you had done? What do you still hope to do?

Overwhelmed.

I Can Relate. See You At The End Of May.

Dream On

Without leaps of imagination, or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.

~Gloria Steinem

Good Morning! Not!

I have a job that requires me to rise at 5:45 AM.

When I am home it makes me rise at 5:00 AM.

Those of you who know me know that I should have a gold metal around my neck for this Olympic feat.

I hate mornings.

I think I have mentioned that.

My mom used to have to wake me up on Christmas. Not kidding.

There might be something wrong with me.

I am pretty sure my brother still holds a grudge for that.

Today my friend Corynn told me I was "sunshine and bubbles".

She said this before 9 AM. Granted that would make it 6 PM Spain time, but I think it still counts.

Here is something shiny and bubbly for your morning:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uA3OnIYW5u4

Love Begets Love

For my Psychology of the Family class my group and I had to choose a family to interview and then help them present their own story to the class as a whole. We chose an RLC on campus who happens to be gay. Her son, let's call him Ben, is 11 years old. During the interview we asked him what people don't understand about his family. He responded:

"The question shouldn't be what they don't understand, but rather why they don't understand it."

I could not love his answer more.

Our love is all the same.