Moving, Deodorant, and Wal-mart

I've arrived.

It has been a mess. Boxes and piles everywhere, but slowly

my room and apartment have emerged.

It is definitely a change.

I'm not at college anymore, but not really in the "real world" either.

I don't know anyone in this town and my roommate has

to work every night. So its been lonely getting all moved in and hauling

boxes up the stairs. (I've definitely gotten my workout the past few days.)

I've been to Wal-mart enough times to know which cashiers

are fast and which are slow. And I've broken in my new car.

(I'll tell you that story soon. I need to figure out its name first.)

And my poor Van Gogh

doll with the detachable ear was torn up by the roommate's dog.

(I'm an art teacher. I can have Van Gogh dolls.)

Thursday and Friday this last week were a lot of teacher meetings.

I met with my cooperating teacher and university supervisor to go

over what is expected of me.

I don't know how they think anyone can be comfortable teaching

knowing that in the back someone is critiquing every word said.

Plus, I sweat a lot when I am nervous. (Well, kind of all the time really.)

It is gross and I'm really paranoid that I'll have huge tacos in front of everyone.

I'm sorry if this is grossing you out, but I've had nightmares about it.

I have tried almost every antiperspirant and I can tell you personally:

THEY ALL LIE.

This last student teaching experience is a pass or fail course.

These two people decide whether I can be a teacher or not.

It is scary and very, very intimidating.

Highlight: My parent love me. They gave me three roses with

good luck note. This is a big change for me and kind of scary.

I'm so grateful for them and their support.

I start with real kids on Monday. Wish my luck.

Where I Come From It's Cornbread and Chicken

{me with the pigs}

If someone were to ask me what experience has shaped my life and personality the most, I would say, without the slightest pause, growing up on a farm. There is a certain sense of pride that comes from having your dad work with his hands and your mom take care of her family. As far back as I can recall, we've always had cattle and enough land to keep us more than busy.

Lessons learned on the farm were countless. Such things as

• I was born knowing how to drive a truck and a tractor.
• It is important to know how deep and thick something is before you cross it.
• The better you treat an animal the more they are willing to give you.
  
• Everyone feels hot and sticky and miserable in a 2pm sun --you’re problems are not unique.
• There is always going to be another solution. You can't do it one way you can do it another.
• A piece of twine will do some amazing things. (It is similar to duct tape.)
• You can't start it-- push it. You can't push it--pull it. You can't move it--ask your brother.
• The best time to sing at the top of your lungs to Dixie Chicks and Tim McGraw is while driving a tractor. Country music doesn't belong anywhere else.
• It isn't always easy to find "this size bolt" from 6 five-gallon buckets of rusty pieces of metal.
• And it important to always have a lot of duct tape and WD-40 on hand.
• You don't get to take a hour lunch.
• Machines talk. They tell you when they are feeling normal and when something is amiss. STOP if anything sounds bad.
• Go to bed when you have the chance.
• Run everything to the dirt and then some.
• An most importantly, the harder you work at something the better you feel about yourself.
  
  Family and your stories are part of who you are and what you stand for. Dad can fix anything and mom knows how to make everything good. The habits you keep for years are as strong as life itself. We are part of the land we work. Pray a lot because it all depends on Him. However, work like it doesn't.
  
  No other experience in this world can offer the satisfaction I feel when I watch the sunset after a day of sweat and hard work and the realization I've "done some good in the world today."

When I was 18

I always thought that the perfect age was 18. And when we

died we would be 18 in heaven for eternity.

I waited and waited to be 18. It was the age where magical things

happened. All my Barbies were 18 and they got to go to college,

met "real men," drive their own car, and eat sausages and ice cream

for dinner if they wanted to.

First night at college with my first ever roommates. Me= Nerd at the top.

Truth? I didn't know anything when I was 18. I thought it was the

age where you were young enough to still be considered young and fun,

but old enough to be solidly an adult. It was all about freedom and
being carefree.

My roommates and I freshman year "popcorning" someone at 4 in the morning. Me= Right

Drinking too much sparkling cider. Me= far left.

Me at 18 was insecure. I cried a lot and did some crazy things.

And I didn't have money to buy sausage or drive my own car.

But college seemed a lot more exciting when I was 18. I took life by the

horns and tried to shake all the fun out of it.

And yes at 18, I gained the famous "Freshman 15,"
although for me it was 20.

My roomate and I polishing off a 10 lb cake on a very depressing night.
As I got older, I found myself most night with so much homework that "going out" was not an option. I ate too much Ramen and studied too hard. I was a boring college student bent on getting my A's.

But I like myself more now than I did at 18. I know myself a little better.

Maybe I'm a little more mature.

Maybe not.

I do however have more curves to show off and I do eat sausage when I want to. And my car died last week.

I now believe strongly that the perfect age will be 24. I'll have a real job, be a successful, and maybe get rid of my lazy tendencies. And I'll be shaking those horns again, but a little bit more responsible.

Guess I'll tell you how that goes when I get there.

*I lied. That last picture isn't me now. I was 20. It just makes me laugh every time I see it. Enjoy!