Wednesday, March 13, 2013


How honest can I be on this thing? Pretty damn honest? Cool.

I realized a couple weeks ago, I have the rest of my life to blog. If I want to.

I don't have the rest of my life to be a student, to be passionate about traveling, to go on funny dates, to spend all night in the library with my best friends, to have sleepovers, to drink coffee and diet coke and call it a meal.

To be with these people, and in this place, for the last time.

The blogs I read belong to people who lead lives different than my own. Lives where they get to bake cool things, make cool things, raise their children, decorate their houses, and do cool things with their church. Overuse the word cool, much?

I like them because they're different than what I'm doing.

And what I do recently? It just ain't blog-worthy.

It's memory-worthy.

And laugh til your abs hurt-worthy.

It's journal-worthy, for SURE.

And hey, maybe ten years from now I'll turn my journal into a funny blog about the life of a 22-year-old, but until then, composing posts about my days and nights just doesn't make sense.

They're funny and memorable, and sometimes hard. But they're leading to great things.

Great things that I'll blog about someday.

Until then?

Adios, suckers.

Just kidding.

But really.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013


Go watch this.

Good luck not crying. 

Saturday, March 2, 2013


Weekend visitors.
Friday Funday sports at Finkbiner.
Summer weather.
Weekend-long sleepovers.
The Nest.
Dinosaur egg oatmeal.
Brown sugar coffee.
The beach.
This place has slowly become home.
But these reminders have been popping up all over.

"So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight." 2 Cor. 5:6-7

"Our Father refreshes us along the journey of life with some pleasant inns, but He will not encourage us to mistake them for home." -C.S. Lewis

And a good friend who I've been far from for quite some time, sent me this the other day.

In friendship…we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another…the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting–any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking no chances. A secret master of ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” can truly say to every group of Christian friends, “Ye have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another.” The friendship is not a reward for our discriminating and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each of us the beauties of others.”

Thursday, February 21, 2013

All Over the Place

The other morning in lecture, I wrote the date at the top of a page of notes, and I could not figure out why that date felt so darn familiar. 

I wracked my brain for like 15 minutes trying to figure it out, and it hit me. 

Happy birthday loser high school boyfriend. 

It's been 8 years and I still remember your birthday?

So, needless to say, that was fun. 

In other news...

The past couple weeks have been a riot. 

Taco Tuesdays. 

Logan and Destiny's engagement!

Cops and Robbers party. 

The Cantina's Groundhogs Day party.

A 90's party.  

Brad and Katelyn's engagement day! 

The practice GRE. And another on Sunday. (woopee)

A senior thesis. (again, woopee)

Potty training? (wait, never mind) 

The Bachelor. 

And soaking in the 10 weeks that are left of college. 


At least we're all freaking out together? 

Saturday, February 9, 2013

PinterTest Kitchen

Yeah, it's February. And yeah PinterTesting was conducted in December.

But sometimes I'm not as ahead of the game as I would like to be.

So, I present to you, A Handmade Holiday.

After seeing this pin when Pinterest first began, I decided I would give these a whirl someday.

So when November rolled around, and I hadn't started working yet, I challenged myself to make as many Christmas gifts these year as I could, by hand. 

Then I started working full-time, and handmade Christmas gifts got more stressful than I intended them to be. But the fun was still there. 

I find a lot of joy in making things myself. I know that for some, it is scarier to attempt to make something than it is to pay someone else to make it for you. But, it is scarier for me to pay for something with money I should use to pay for school, than it is to just make it myself. 

It's my stage of life. I'm sure I won't always be this way. 

So I threw a couple of these together for two friends so far, and there is one more in the works.

I LOVE the look of the one above, and think the spacing is so awesome, but I decided to go for a longer look rather than taller.

Many late nights were spent in this freezing garage after work, which I called Santa's Studio.

This one was for one friend, and piled behind it you can see the pieces of another piece for another friend, and on the floor is the third one. Still not yet finished. 

I set off to Home Depot and bought 6 foot long 1" by 4" pieces of pine, and had my buddy at the cutting station slice them into 2 foot pieces, yielding me around 32 pieces of pine. 

My dad raised me right, I'm a lumber sort of girl. 

After consulting various stains with my other buddy in the paint department, I settled on two pretty darn dark stains, staining half the pieces one shade and half the pieces the other. Then, in putting them together, I sort of just alternated and lined up the grain as I saw fit. As you can see, the pine soaked it up well. 

Then I free-handed on the letters, using the Pin as a general guide, and making up whatever letters were not represented on that original Pin. I was happy to let my creative juices flow with some acrylic paint. 

Acrylic paint is crucial when painting over a stain. Oil-based, people, oil-based. 

After 3 to 4 coats on the letters, I sealed it all with a clear coat of oil-based sealant, and we were good to go. 

Throw on some mounting material for the back, and deliver the joy to your unsuspecting friends. 

Here are the two up on the walls of the recipients. 

Want one? Want to make one together? You let me know. 

Also made this, but didn't photograph it, and it's just paint on some canvas. 


Linking up with Jessica!

Friday, February 1, 2013


Just checking in.

I've been watching so much Downton Abbey, that now all my thoughts run through my brain in an early 1900's British accent.

Branson? Marry me.

Of course I'd pick the Irish guy.

But Vera Bates is also Irish, and I'd be fine if she just disappeared from the show altogether.

Of course, I'm only five episodes into Season 2, so my concerns may be null to those who are caught up. I wish I was current on the episodes, but I've got like, school and stuff, sooo....

Currently I am watching William dying in his hospital bed, as Daisy tells him that it would be dishonest to marry him.... Suck it up, DAISY. Marry the dude.

And Mary? Stop being so nice. You love Matthew. Let Ms. Swire get out of the picture.


We are pretty darn excited for the Har-Bowl this weekend around these parts. Lots of viewing parties. And lots of celebrations tomorrow. So many birthdays to gather together for recently, and hey, Betsy's even throwing a Groundhogs Day party. Whatever the heck that entails!

Things are well down here. Four weeks have already passed, so the semester is a quarter of the way done.

That is insane.

Well, if you're reading this, I hope you are well, wherever you are. January is over, and February has begun.


PS Lemon Shandy Shocktop? Yum. Get yourself some.

Monday, January 28, 2013

A Seed

I just sang three children to sleep. 


First my two-year-old boyfriend, then his two older sisters.

And it took me back to a place I could only remember foggily. 

Memories of babysitting one of my favorite families. 

And singing those same hymns over a young girl while rocking her to sleep. 

A little girl that was attached to me and called me "Apert", but it made my heart melt every time because at least she called me something

A toddler who would later be found to have profound deafness, that explained so acutely her fear of bedtimes in the dark, where both sound and sight would be impaired for her. 

God softened my 19-year-old sarcastic heart for a tiny little girl, and I could never explain to anyone why. 

I frequently would tag-team babysit with my boyfriend at the time. After an hour of holding her, walking, singing, and rocking, when she would finally go to sleep, he would point out that special place in me. 

That I wouldn't do that for many kids. 

That I may have taught swim lessons for summers and summers, and led camp for kids of all ages, but that child was the first to really pierce through this tough girl's exterior. 

The love of a toddler that was always excited to see me, helped heal much of the heartache and inadequacy I battled.

God used Ashlyn to plant in me a seed of longing. 

Of longing to someday be someone's mother

That little baby I've gotten to watch grow since birth, is now an independent five-year-old that I can barely get a hug out of when I see her. 

And even when she chooses Kim over me, or freaking cats over me, I will always remember how God used that tiny body to win over my heart. 

And now I find myself in such a peculiar situation, that I was almost afraid God would use exactly the way He is using it. 

I have worked since high school, but any full-time work has always been limited to summer or winter breaks. Coming off of months of working 40 hour weeks at Target, I have tasted the independence and satisfaction of working life, and I love it. 

Now, I spend my afternoons, and some evenings, filling the shoes of a woman who would love nothing more than to get to be at home with her three beautiful children, but God has clearly said that that will not be the case right now. 

I long to be working, but I play "Mom" with my days. 

She would love to be at home, but she spends her days working. 

I thought I would be easily able to slip down to school for four months, graduate, and head right back home and back to work. 

But does the Lord ever work that way? Not in my life, anyway. 

Purposeful. He is so purposeful. 

Every single day has been so meticulously designed. 

This is my fourth week, and I am already undone at what He has been changing in me. 

What He has brought into the picture, and what He has removed. 

He is so good to us, and gives us desires we would never be able to conjure up with our hearts of stone.