Thursday, February 28, 2013
Drug Dogs
Today, just as I was taking a secretive bite out of my granola bar in 3rd period, the secretary came over the intercom announcing that we were in a "code yellow with bags". None of us students knew what that meant. Our teacher told us to take our backpacks out to the hallway. Some of the students started zipping their bags or grabbing things out of it, but they were yelled at. We were instructed not to touch our bags except to drag them out to the hallway. I looked down at the open granola bar sticking out of the top pocket of my backpack and sighed. Right as I set my bag down in the hallway, everything made sense. I heard a sharp dog bark and looked up to see a bunch of cops and a couple of dogs standing outside of the office. I walked back into the classroom with the rest of my classmates, and everything was so quiet that we could hear the dogs walking around the hallways. Then it hit me. I looked over at my friend Katie and asked, "Can drug dogs sniff out Mydol and Motrin?". She said, "Yes, probably." My stomach and brain were going crazy. Not only did I have Mydol in my locker, I had Motrin in my backpack in an unlabeled bottle, and my inhaler in my track/softball locker. And according to school rules, all medications are supposed to be kept in the office. I was freaking out. So many thoughts were running through my head, for some reason I was envisioning them as headlines, "Teenage 4.0 student expelled from school after drug dogs find menstrual cycle medication, hopes and dreams to become a CRNA, dashed" or "Unlabeled Motrin, teen receives drug possession charges". I was freaking out. Finally, an "all clear" was called and we were able to go get our bags. I hurried out to the hallway; mine was still sitting there, exactly how I had left it. Back in the classroom I checked inside my bag, my unlabeled Motrin was still in there, but one thing was missing... my half eaten granola bar! The drug dogs took my breakfast! I was not in a very good mood after that. At lunch, John told me that three kids in his 3rd period speech class were caught with drugs in their backpacks/lockers. Why are people so stupid? Some people's kids.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
The Epitome of Nerdiness
History Day
Today was the District History Day Competition. If you place as top three in any event at Districts, you qualify for state, and if you place top two at state, you qualify for nationals. There were many different categories: website, exhibit, historical paper, documentary, and performance. I chose to do a historical paper (Ally calls it a "nerd-pants-paper") based off of the topic "Elizabeth Blackwell: Opening the doors of the medical field for women". This competition is for 8th graders, 10th graders, and 12th graders, so Rudy was competing today as well. He did a group exhibit based off of John Deere. His exhibit was actually pretty nifty, he had little toy tractors there and everything. I'm pretty proud of my little twerp. These projects were started at the beginning of the school year and have been an ongoing progress throughout the entire year. At the competition, 3-4 judges ask you various questions about your project, the interview. You are also scored off of your project in general, but most of your score comes from your interview.
My interview was at 9:30 this morning at the Peru State College library. The room was so cool. It was this isolated faculty study center that over-looked the entire library. There was no staircase to get up there, you could only get there by elevator. I was the first historical paper interview of the day, so when I showed up, the judges were talking amongst themselves. They explained to me that I was seven minutes early (Believe it or not, I was early! That never happens!), so I would have to wait because they were not allowed to start ahead of time. They had an "official timer person" there and everything. I took a seat, but then soon realized that I would have to cross my legs because I was wearing a pencil skirt. Unfortunately, my legs were very sore (along with the rest of my body) from the first two track practices. So I set my nerd-pants-paper on the chair next to me, and casually used my hands to lift my leg, grimacing in pain the entire time. Those were the most uncomfortable 7 minutes of my life. The judges were all talking about how they never use their cell phones and about how they hate what America has become. It was rather entertaining actually. By the end of the 7 minutes I was able to conclude that all 3 judges were rather conservative republicans, but the timer-person was most definitely a democrat. (I blame my parents for this strange ability to discover a person's political party. In their exact words, "We don't want you to go off to college and become a democrat or anything.") Finally the timer-person called me over to the table. Rather than them trying to hash out how to pronounce my name, I just introduced myself. They each had a copy of my report in front of them that they had already read through and graded, and then the questions began. I thought that I would struggle with talking to these judges, but it came easily. As much as I am criticized for my over-bubbly personality, (cough... Sydni, Evan, and Elijah.... cough) it came in pretty handy today. The judges were very kind and their questions were rather simple considering that none of them had studied about Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell. When they were done with their questions, I thanked them, shaking their hands, and then turned to walk out of the room. I was just about to the door when I heard, "Uh, Ms. Stofer". I turned around the older male judge was looking at me, "Yes?". "I wish you luck pursuing your medical career, I presume you will not endure the same hardships that Dr. Blackwell did, but good luck anyway." I smiled and said, "Thank you." Outside the door was the next competitor, who happened to be in my class. He looked really nervous, so I smiled at him and said, "The judges are very nice and friendly. Just make sure to be polite, go get 'em!" This seemed to calm his nerves a little bit, but the poor guy wouldn't stop fidgeting. His tie was all messed up; I thought about fixing it, but that would have been just a little strange, so I just walked away.
The awards ceremony was later in the afternoon. To be completely honest, at that point I didn't care if I made it to state or not because State History Day is the same day as District Music Contest for solos and small groups, so I would have ended up choosing DMC over state anyway. My paper did not place; I was a little upset at first, but I soon got over it. I found out after the ceremony that Rudy's John Deere exhibit advanced into finals, but he did not place either. I am really proud of him. There were 49 entries in his division, and only 12 advanced to the finals. We left the Peru campus and returned to school just in time for me to head to track practice. Thankfully, it was an easy day. All we did was lift weights for an hour and a half, and then work on shot-put foot work for another hour.
Nerdiness in Track
Tuesday all of us throwers were forced to run sprints on the track (that was covered in snow!). My mind tends to wander a lot when I run, so in these situations, when I am running short distance sprints, I have to have my mind occupied with something structured. As I was sprinting down the back straightaway, in my head I was subdividing "1234, 1&2&3&4&, 1-pl-et 2-pl-et 3-pl-et 4-pl-et, 1e&a 2e&a 3e&a 4e&a". The next sprint, I was thinking about the cosine, sine, and tangent rules, "SOH-CAH-TOA. Sine=opposite over hypotenuse. Cosine=adjacent over hypotenuse. Tangent=opposite over adjacent." On the next sprint I kept repeating the quadratic formula over and over again in my head. Sometimes I wonder what would constantly run through my brain if I wasn't so nerdy.
On the topic of track, I am so sore! Some idiot decided that throwers needed to do speed and agility training. Really? Why can't we just lift weights, throw, and work on foot-work like all of the other schools make their throwers do? Surprisingly, I am in better shape than I thought I would be, which is good considering I haven't been very physically active since softball season got over in October. Despite the unwanted speed and agility training, I am pretty excited for this season! I'm hoping to break 30 feet in shot-put! It's a long shot, but we'll see what happens!
Today was the District History Day Competition. If you place as top three in any event at Districts, you qualify for state, and if you place top two at state, you qualify for nationals. There were many different categories: website, exhibit, historical paper, documentary, and performance. I chose to do a historical paper (Ally calls it a "nerd-pants-paper") based off of the topic "Elizabeth Blackwell: Opening the doors of the medical field for women". This competition is for 8th graders, 10th graders, and 12th graders, so Rudy was competing today as well. He did a group exhibit based off of John Deere. His exhibit was actually pretty nifty, he had little toy tractors there and everything. I'm pretty proud of my little twerp. These projects were started at the beginning of the school year and have been an ongoing progress throughout the entire year. At the competition, 3-4 judges ask you various questions about your project, the interview. You are also scored off of your project in general, but most of your score comes from your interview.
My interview was at 9:30 this morning at the Peru State College library. The room was so cool. It was this isolated faculty study center that over-looked the entire library. There was no staircase to get up there, you could only get there by elevator. I was the first historical paper interview of the day, so when I showed up, the judges were talking amongst themselves. They explained to me that I was seven minutes early (Believe it or not, I was early! That never happens!), so I would have to wait because they were not allowed to start ahead of time. They had an "official timer person" there and everything. I took a seat, but then soon realized that I would have to cross my legs because I was wearing a pencil skirt. Unfortunately, my legs were very sore (along with the rest of my body) from the first two track practices. So I set my nerd-pants-paper on the chair next to me, and casually used my hands to lift my leg, grimacing in pain the entire time. Those were the most uncomfortable 7 minutes of my life. The judges were all talking about how they never use their cell phones and about how they hate what America has become. It was rather entertaining actually. By the end of the 7 minutes I was able to conclude that all 3 judges were rather conservative republicans, but the timer-person was most definitely a democrat. (I blame my parents for this strange ability to discover a person's political party. In their exact words, "We don't want you to go off to college and become a democrat or anything.") Finally the timer-person called me over to the table. Rather than them trying to hash out how to pronounce my name, I just introduced myself. They each had a copy of my report in front of them that they had already read through and graded, and then the questions began. I thought that I would struggle with talking to these judges, but it came easily. As much as I am criticized for my over-bubbly personality, (cough... Sydni, Evan, and Elijah.... cough) it came in pretty handy today. The judges were very kind and their questions were rather simple considering that none of them had studied about Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell. When they were done with their questions, I thanked them, shaking their hands, and then turned to walk out of the room. I was just about to the door when I heard, "Uh, Ms. Stofer". I turned around the older male judge was looking at me, "Yes?". "I wish you luck pursuing your medical career, I presume you will not endure the same hardships that Dr. Blackwell did, but good luck anyway." I smiled and said, "Thank you." Outside the door was the next competitor, who happened to be in my class. He looked really nervous, so I smiled at him and said, "The judges are very nice and friendly. Just make sure to be polite, go get 'em!" This seemed to calm his nerves a little bit, but the poor guy wouldn't stop fidgeting. His tie was all messed up; I thought about fixing it, but that would have been just a little strange, so I just walked away.
The awards ceremony was later in the afternoon. To be completely honest, at that point I didn't care if I made it to state or not because State History Day is the same day as District Music Contest for solos and small groups, so I would have ended up choosing DMC over state anyway. My paper did not place; I was a little upset at first, but I soon got over it. I found out after the ceremony that Rudy's John Deere exhibit advanced into finals, but he did not place either. I am really proud of him. There were 49 entries in his division, and only 12 advanced to the finals. We left the Peru campus and returned to school just in time for me to head to track practice. Thankfully, it was an easy day. All we did was lift weights for an hour and a half, and then work on shot-put foot work for another hour.
Nerdiness in Track
Tuesday all of us throwers were forced to run sprints on the track (that was covered in snow!). My mind tends to wander a lot when I run, so in these situations, when I am running short distance sprints, I have to have my mind occupied with something structured. As I was sprinting down the back straightaway, in my head I was subdividing "1234, 1&2&3&4&, 1-pl-et 2-pl-et 3-pl-et 4-pl-et, 1e&a 2e&a 3e&a 4e&a". The next sprint, I was thinking about the cosine, sine, and tangent rules, "SOH-CAH-TOA. Sine=opposite over hypotenuse. Cosine=adjacent over hypotenuse. Tangent=opposite over adjacent." On the next sprint I kept repeating the quadratic formula over and over again in my head. Sometimes I wonder what would constantly run through my brain if I wasn't so nerdy.
On the topic of track, I am so sore! Some idiot decided that throwers needed to do speed and agility training. Really? Why can't we just lift weights, throw, and work on foot-work like all of the other schools make their throwers do? Surprisingly, I am in better shape than I thought I would be, which is good considering I haven't been very physically active since softball season got over in October. Despite the unwanted speed and agility training, I am pretty excited for this season! I'm hoping to break 30 feet in shot-put! It's a long shot, but we'll see what happens!
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Snowy Times!
This week has been insane. I only went to school for two days this week, and honestly, that is perfectly fine with me. Thursday, I got to spend the entire day with my siblings. I was dreading it at first, but it turned out just fine. Both Momma and Daddy were at work, so it was my job to make sure that the little twerps had edible food. I actually made a roast for supper; my siblings were pretty impressed. We played Just Dance for like 2 hours. It turns out Rudy is actually a good dancer. We were acting like crazy spazes. Honestly, it was amazing. Later that night, Elizabeth, Rudy, and I were watching Seal Team 6. Elizabeth slides down the awkwardly large couch and sits right next to me. I looked at her, and she said the cutest thing, "Wanna snuggle?" and then I see a blanket appear on my lap out of the corner of my eye, "I'll share my blankie with you." It was adorable. About a half hour later she tapped on my shoulder. I turned my head and she whispered in my ear, "What's Micah's last name?" "Most, why?" She got a confused look on her face and said, "Oh, I thought it was Mestl." I laughed and said, "Maaika Mestl is a girl." Then she asked, "What about Byron? What's his last name?" so I said, "Nelson". "What about Elijah? Isn't his last name Humphrey?" I laughed and said "No, Makenzi's last name is Humphrey. Elijah's last name is Elmshaeuser." She got the most disturbed look on her face and asked, "How in the world do you spell that?" I laughed and said, "It's just like spelling 'Elm' 'shae' and 'user'. E-L-M-S-H-A-E-U-S-E-R." and then before she could ask any more silly questions I just told her the rest of my friends' last names. "Why the sudden interest in their last names?". Then she said, "Well whenever we visit Ogallala you spend a lot of time with them, so I figured I should know more about them. In fact, I'm going to have to have a little talk with some of them." She is so adorable.
That night, Dad didn't get home until later, and Momma had to stay the night at the hospital she was working at because she was "Urgent Personnel". Meaning that even though there was like 8 inches of snow, she had to be there right away in the morning to get medicine ready for patients. I had just started doing my homework when the land-line rang. I knew instantly that it was the school because the only people who ever call our land line are the school and awko people trying to sell us stuff. I thought about doing my homework anyway, but then quickly decided against it. Procrastinate to graduate!
On Friday, all four of us went sledding. It was so much fun. Unfortunately, the snow was too fluffy and deep to pull the sled behind the 4wheeler, so we went old school sledding. The dam on the north side of the pond is perfect for sledding. It is really steep and the snow always drifts at the bottom. (This is actually where I wrecked the 4wheeler and broke my arm a few years ago.) The thing about sledding down the dam is that you have to pull upward really hard on the front rope of the sled, otherwise you dive headfirst into a huge snow drift. No one informed Elizabeth of this, so the poor little girl ended up being buried in a drift. When she popped her head up, she had snow caked everywhere, even on the inside of her neck warmer thing. This was followed by much complaining, so eventually we started the dreadful trek back up to the house. The walk back is always the worst, you are already tired from sledding, and your boots are caked in snow, which makes them more heavy. As we started to enter the yard, Dad said that we had to help shovel the sidewalks and the concrete slabs in front of all of the buildings. Thankfully, Dad hooked the snow blower up to the tractor and helped us out a little bit. Usually, Dad uses the snow blower on one tractor, and Rudy scoops snow with the loader of the other tractor, but the other tractor is still in Ogallala sitting in Grandma's yard, so it took twice as long to clear the driveway.
Today was the first time I had been outside of our farm since Wednesday. Daddy, the girls, and I went into town to get some groceries. After that, I took a three hour long nap. It seems as though the energy is just drained out of me. I don't know what's wrong. Actually I do, but I'll hold back from making that completely public. For those of you who know what this means: MUIOF!
That night, Dad didn't get home until later, and Momma had to stay the night at the hospital she was working at because she was "Urgent Personnel". Meaning that even though there was like 8 inches of snow, she had to be there right away in the morning to get medicine ready for patients. I had just started doing my homework when the land-line rang. I knew instantly that it was the school because the only people who ever call our land line are the school and awko people trying to sell us stuff. I thought about doing my homework anyway, but then quickly decided against it. Procrastinate to graduate!
On Friday, all four of us went sledding. It was so much fun. Unfortunately, the snow was too fluffy and deep to pull the sled behind the 4wheeler, so we went old school sledding. The dam on the north side of the pond is perfect for sledding. It is really steep and the snow always drifts at the bottom. (This is actually where I wrecked the 4wheeler and broke my arm a few years ago.) The thing about sledding down the dam is that you have to pull upward really hard on the front rope of the sled, otherwise you dive headfirst into a huge snow drift. No one informed Elizabeth of this, so the poor little girl ended up being buried in a drift. When she popped her head up, she had snow caked everywhere, even on the inside of her neck warmer thing. This was followed by much complaining, so eventually we started the dreadful trek back up to the house. The walk back is always the worst, you are already tired from sledding, and your boots are caked in snow, which makes them more heavy. As we started to enter the yard, Dad said that we had to help shovel the sidewalks and the concrete slabs in front of all of the buildings. Thankfully, Dad hooked the snow blower up to the tractor and helped us out a little bit. Usually, Dad uses the snow blower on one tractor, and Rudy scoops snow with the loader of the other tractor, but the other tractor is still in Ogallala sitting in Grandma's yard, so it took twice as long to clear the driveway.
Today was the first time I had been outside of our farm since Wednesday. Daddy, the girls, and I went into town to get some groceries. After that, I took a three hour long nap. It seems as though the energy is just drained out of me. I don't know what's wrong. Actually I do, but I'll hold back from making that completely public. For those of you who know what this means: MUIOF!
Monday, February 18, 2013
Pinterest Addiction
I am so addicted to Pinterest! I seriously think I need to go see a doctor or something. I used to think Pinterest was completely over-rated, but now I am obsessed. Why is Pinterest so addicting? I think it's because I every time I look, I find something that describes myself or my friends almost perfectly. Pinterest understands. For example...
Story of my life #1: My family gets so annoyed with me when I sing in the car. They have a rule that clearly defines that I am not allowed to sing louder than the radio, which is very hard for a loud mouth singer like me.
Story of my life #2: Syd, this one's for you! Unfortunately, this statement is VERY conceited, but I think it describes Syd and I quite well. (This is where Elijah would make a rude comment about baseball being better than softball...loser.)
Story of my friends' lives #3: Byron and Sydni. Holy cow. Last year in Speech class, Micah was giving an improv speech and his topic was bedtime stories or lullabys or something. He had included a few funny statements and then he mentioned something about Frank Sinatra and Byron just lost it. I heard this awkward giggly noise, and I look across the table and both Sydni and Byron had super red faces and were laughing uncontrollably. It was the most hilarious thing I have ever seen. Of course it was a chain reaction after that. I looked over at Elijah, and we both started laughing, soon the whole class was laughing. Poor Micah was laughing so hard that he couldn't even finish his speech. I was laughing so hard that I was crying.
Story of my life #4: I would have to say that Celie and Sydni have got this covered. Sometimes I think about the stuff that I tell them about myself and wonder why they still put up with me. Some of the things we share with each other are down right disturbing.
Story of my life #5: My Pinterest wedding is amazing. This made me laugh really hard. It's so true! I feel sorry for the poor girls who had to plan their weddings without Pinterest! Kara and I joke that we're going to have the exact same wedding because we keep pinning each other's wedding ideas. I told Daddy that he should start some sort of savings account for my wedding because as it looks on Pinterest, my wedding is going to be quite pricey. That is, if Mr. Right isn't stuck in a tree or something. (That was for you Celie, Syd, and Chase!) ;)
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Make My Life a Song
Today was one of those crazily amazing days that you look back on and smile at. This morning was the first time since the remodel job started that we have had the orchestra back. I had almost forgotten how amazing it is to worship along with a fantastic orchestra of people who have a burning desire to praise the Lord by making music. After church today, my Girls Choir performed at a nursing home in Lincoln. This nursing home happened to be an Alzheimer's Care Facility. (I hope to work at a place like this once I obtain my nursing assistant degree.)
We sang our first three songs, two of them were very classical Latin pieces, and the third was a more modern version of the hymn O Worship the King. Then we sang a couple of hymns with the patients. There were only three hymn books to share amongst 39 of us girls, so it was a little difficult, especially since the patients chose hymns that are less common in the "musically advanced" society that we live in. Half way through "Victory in Jesus", my director turned around and looked me straight in the eye. I thought I was going to get the "Stop making up your own harmony" glare, but instead she said, "Good job rockin' the tenor part!" in the middle of the chorus. It was quite entertaining actually.
After the hymns, a man from our church preached a rather short sermon, and then it was time for us to sing again. Our next song was What a Savior by Laura Story. This is the song that I have a solo in. Since there were no mics, Teresa made me stand up front next to where she was conducting. It's so fun to sing in front of all of these elderly people because as you look around the room and make eye contact and exaggerated facial expression, they react back. Sometimes it's just a simple nod or a half smile, but other times it's tears. Two elderly people cried during my solo, one man sitting in the front, and a lady sitting a row behind him. It was really touching to see how seriously they take worshiping. Our last song was Make My Life a Song. I absolutely love this song. The title in and of its self is enough explanation to the reason we worship. I like to think of this song almost as a prayer or a plea to the Lord. We spent one entire rehearsal discussing the meaning of these lyrics in the way we praise and worship the Lord.
After that, Kara and I had about 3 hours to kill before we had to be back at church for Girls of Grace, so we decided we were going to just drive around Lincoln. We went to the mall, and I found this pretty spiffy looking tie that instantly made me think of Micah and Byron. It was purple and it had a piano on it, and it said it said "Chicks dig piano players". I should force Rudy to learn the piano, just so I can buy him that tie, and he can wear it. After the mall trip, Kara and I went to a coffee shop to drink some high sugar/caffeine contented drinks and to creep on people. Stalking people in a coffee shop is actually quite fun.
Later, during music class at Girls of Grace, we were teaching the kids how to read music, specifically, flats. We started with the most common ones: Bb, Eb, and Ab. Honestly, I think it went in one ear and straight out the other. Sometimes I wonder how much of this stuff we are teaching them actually stays planted in their brains. The good thing is, I didn't cry tonight! The simple things that these little girls do and say are always a little convicting. Sometimes I think that the roles are reversed, and rather than me making an impact in their lives, they are making an impact on mine. I need to strive to make a life a song as well as pursue my walk by faith.
We sang our first three songs, two of them were very classical Latin pieces, and the third was a more modern version of the hymn O Worship the King. Then we sang a couple of hymns with the patients. There were only three hymn books to share amongst 39 of us girls, so it was a little difficult, especially since the patients chose hymns that are less common in the "musically advanced" society that we live in. Half way through "Victory in Jesus", my director turned around and looked me straight in the eye. I thought I was going to get the "Stop making up your own harmony" glare, but instead she said, "Good job rockin' the tenor part!" in the middle of the chorus. It was quite entertaining actually.
After the hymns, a man from our church preached a rather short sermon, and then it was time for us to sing again. Our next song was What a Savior by Laura Story. This is the song that I have a solo in. Since there were no mics, Teresa made me stand up front next to where she was conducting. It's so fun to sing in front of all of these elderly people because as you look around the room and make eye contact and exaggerated facial expression, they react back. Sometimes it's just a simple nod or a half smile, but other times it's tears. Two elderly people cried during my solo, one man sitting in the front, and a lady sitting a row behind him. It was really touching to see how seriously they take worshiping. Our last song was Make My Life a Song. I absolutely love this song. The title in and of its self is enough explanation to the reason we worship. I like to think of this song almost as a prayer or a plea to the Lord. We spent one entire rehearsal discussing the meaning of these lyrics in the way we praise and worship the Lord.
"You sang to me when first I breathed the holy breath of life; You sang to me as faith took hold and grew within my soul; You sing to me at every turn and in each new beginning; I hear your voice in the stillness of my heart. Make my life a song, Creator of the music of the spheres. Make my life a song, O Lord of sound and silence of joy and tears. A song of praise, a hymn of faith, an anthem of Your love; Make my life a song. I give to You my hopes and dreams, the ventures of my life; I give to You the service that I offer in Your Name; I live for You my future to unfold as You will choose; I pray that I may walk beside You all my days. Make my life a song, Creator of the music of the spheres. Make my life a song, O Lord of sound and silence of joy and tears. A song of praise, a hymn of faith, an anthem of Your love; Make my life a song."After the last song, we talked with the patients for a little while. I love talking to elderly people. They are so genuine and gentle. Because they are Alzheimer's patients, some of them couldn't remember certain things. For instance, at least 3 of the ladies that I talked to thought I was their granddaughter, one man kept asking me when I was going to move out and get a job, and a couple of them thought I was their nurse. In the back corner, one of the patients was sitting alone, so I walked up to her, grabbed her hand and thanked her for coming to listen to us. She told all about how she loved listening to children's voices. It turns out she used to go to our church. She looked at me and said, "You were the girl with the solo, weren't you?" I smiled and said, "Yes ma'am." Her face lit up and she said, "I know a good singer when I see one, and you listen to me Missy. You keep singing." Then her nurse came and wheeled her away. I love little old ladies.
After that, Kara and I had about 3 hours to kill before we had to be back at church for Girls of Grace, so we decided we were going to just drive around Lincoln. We went to the mall, and I found this pretty spiffy looking tie that instantly made me think of Micah and Byron. It was purple and it had a piano on it, and it said it said "Chicks dig piano players". I should force Rudy to learn the piano, just so I can buy him that tie, and he can wear it. After the mall trip, Kara and I went to a coffee shop to drink some high sugar/caffeine contented drinks and to creep on people. Stalking people in a coffee shop is actually quite fun.
Later, during music class at Girls of Grace, we were teaching the kids how to read music, specifically, flats. We started with the most common ones: Bb, Eb, and Ab. Honestly, I think it went in one ear and straight out the other. Sometimes I wonder how much of this stuff we are teaching them actually stays planted in their brains. The good thing is, I didn't cry tonight! The simple things that these little girls do and say are always a little convicting. Sometimes I think that the roles are reversed, and rather than me making an impact in their lives, they are making an impact on mine. I need to strive to make a life a song as well as pursue my walk by faith.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Sleepy Craziness
Yesterday, we were supposed to leave for Minnesota, but that didn't happen. My uncle (the one that's like 6' 8" tall...) owns a cabin on a huge lake outside of a little town called Annandale, MN. We usually go up to the cabin twice a year. In the summer, we stay for a week, and in the winter we just stay for an extended weekend. It's really cool to be able to claim that the lake I learned how to water ski on is the lake that I learned how to ice skate and drive a snowmobile on.
Our original plan was to leave around 4 a.m. on Friday, so we would get there around noon, but that was soon altered when Momma's work computer rejected the wireless card. (Mom had to work this weekend, so she was going to do it at the cabin, off of the wireless card thing.) So, she had to go into work (at Nebraska Heart Hospital in Lincoln) and have the IT people fix her computer. When she got home around 8, we loaded up the pick-up truck, and we were about ready to leave when Dad realized that our furnace wasn't working. He tried to fix it, but he couldn't. And he didn't want to leave with a broken furnace because we didn't want to come home to a house that is flooded because of water pipes freezing and bursting. So, we unloaded the truck. Dad called the furnace fixing guy, and he said that he could be there in the afternoon. We packed up the pick-up truck again while Dad started the wood burning stove. Grandpa came over to keep and eye on the stove and wait for the furnace guy. Finally, we left, but we were only about 3 sections down the road when we got a call from my uncle. He said that all of the pipes at the cabin were frozen and that the water didn't work. Mom and Dad decided that we should probably stay home because 16 people can't stay in one cabin with no water. Dreadfully, we unloaded the truck again. All of us were disappointed. The trips to the cabin are the only times, other than Christmas, that most of the family is together. At least now I don't have to worry about making up the Encore rehearsal that I was going to miss, and now my Girls Choir director doesn't have to find a replacement girl to sing my solo on Sunday.
I was so tired last night. It was insane. I fell asleep on the couch around 8, and then went upstairs around 10 to go to bed. I didn't get out of bed until almost 10 this morning. I never sleep that late. Apparently I was sleep-texting and sleep-calling last night, so if you got a strange text from me last night, I'm sorry. I should really stop leaving my phone next to my bed at night.
Our original plan was to leave around 4 a.m. on Friday, so we would get there around noon, but that was soon altered when Momma's work computer rejected the wireless card. (Mom had to work this weekend, so she was going to do it at the cabin, off of the wireless card thing.) So, she had to go into work (at Nebraska Heart Hospital in Lincoln) and have the IT people fix her computer. When she got home around 8, we loaded up the pick-up truck, and we were about ready to leave when Dad realized that our furnace wasn't working. He tried to fix it, but he couldn't. And he didn't want to leave with a broken furnace because we didn't want to come home to a house that is flooded because of water pipes freezing and bursting. So, we unloaded the truck. Dad called the furnace fixing guy, and he said that he could be there in the afternoon. We packed up the pick-up truck again while Dad started the wood burning stove. Grandpa came over to keep and eye on the stove and wait for the furnace guy. Finally, we left, but we were only about 3 sections down the road when we got a call from my uncle. He said that all of the pipes at the cabin were frozen and that the water didn't work. Mom and Dad decided that we should probably stay home because 16 people can't stay in one cabin with no water. Dreadfully, we unloaded the truck again. All of us were disappointed. The trips to the cabin are the only times, other than Christmas, that most of the family is together. At least now I don't have to worry about making up the Encore rehearsal that I was going to miss, and now my Girls Choir director doesn't have to find a replacement girl to sing my solo on Sunday.
I was so tired last night. It was insane. I fell asleep on the couch around 8, and then went upstairs around 10 to go to bed. I didn't get out of bed until almost 10 this morning. I never sleep that late. Apparently I was sleep-texting and sleep-calling last night, so if you got a strange text from me last night, I'm sorry. I should really stop leaving my phone next to my bed at night.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Typing, blood that is...
Today in Biology we completed a blood typing lab. Our teacher told us about this lab at the very beginning of the year, and to be honest, I had forgotten about it until just recently. Because I sit in the back row, I had to be one of the first people to go. I don't mind it when doctors and nurses stick needles in me, but when a biology teacher attempts to do such things in a classroom, it makes me a little nervous. As I walked back to the lab tables I explained to her that both of my parents are A negative, and that I am for sure A negative as well. She laughed and said, "You're not getting out of this. Nice try, though."
First, she had me choose the finger that she was going to poke. (I chose the middle finger, fingers that are more fat bleed easier, right?) Then she handed me a wet towel to "sanitize" my finger with. I held out my hand and turned my body away from her. I tensed up, and then she stuck the needle in my finger. It surprised/shocked me, I wasn't ready for it. So, I let out an awkward yell/yelp/scream. The entire class was laughing at me. She pulled the needle out of my finger slowly and at an awkward angle; I was about ready to scream again. I could feel my face flush and grimace in pain as she slowly squeezed multiple drops of blood on to the blood typing paper. After she mixed the chemicals with my blood, she concluded that I am, in fact, A negative. The class was still laughing at my painful facial expression and awkward noises as I returned to my seat after wiping up blood off of the floor that had fallen when I jumped away after she poked me. As I sat down, I looked at John across the room and he was still laughing. Frankly, I was not a very happy person the rest of that class period, thankfully, it was the last period of the day.
First, she had me choose the finger that she was going to poke. (I chose the middle finger, fingers that are more fat bleed easier, right?) Then she handed me a wet towel to "sanitize" my finger with. I held out my hand and turned my body away from her. I tensed up, and then she stuck the needle in my finger. It surprised/shocked me, I wasn't ready for it. So, I let out an awkward yell/yelp/scream. The entire class was laughing at me. She pulled the needle out of my finger slowly and at an awkward angle; I was about ready to scream again. I could feel my face flush and grimace in pain as she slowly squeezed multiple drops of blood on to the blood typing paper. After she mixed the chemicals with my blood, she concluded that I am, in fact, A negative. The class was still laughing at my painful facial expression and awkward noises as I returned to my seat after wiping up blood off of the floor that had fallen when I jumped away after she poked me. As I sat down, I looked at John across the room and he was still laughing. Frankly, I was not a very happy person the rest of that class period, thankfully, it was the last period of the day.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Heavy Right Foot Disease
This weekend has been very emotionally amazing for me. Thursday afternoon, after a disastrous car ride, I went to see all of my friends at school. I practically tackled all of them with hugs. In the process of hugging Balie, some how my arm like attacked Micah's face and set his glasses askew. Gracefulness: 0. Awkward Clumsiness: 50 billion and 1. After that, Syd came with me to the orthodontist, and I found out that I get these stupid things off of my teeth in 9-10 weeks! Then, Syd came over for supper and after supper we went outside to play catch. In the dark. It was awesome. It was just like the good ol' days when Syd and I were in softball together. I hated for her to have to leave.
Friday, I spent the entire day with my grandma. Mom could tell that I had been around grandma a lot because she said that I was starting to talk like her and develop her stubborn attitude more and more. (Let's just say Momma and I didn't get along very well Friday afternoon.) In fact, she was so happy to get rid of me for the evening. Friday night was awesome. There are no other words for it. I love my friends, and I miss them so much. (Even though they made fun of my glorified fanny pack...) It was so much fun to be a part of the Ogallala band again for one night. I also was able to talk to Mr. Fruit at the game. I was involved in a lot of FCA stuff in Ogallala, so Mr. Fruit became one of my favorite teachers. One of the first things he asked me at the game was how my relationship and walk with God was going. I think it's truly amazing to see people who genuinely care about your relationship with the Lord. In general, it was just amazing to spend time with my friends, even if it was only for a little while.
As I said goodbye to Makenzi, Syd, and Chase, I kept my composure until I got in the car and then a couple of tears fell. I tried to hide them. I promised myself after the last choir concert that I would never make my friends have to deal with my emotional sobs again. I counted the tears on the way to Celie's grandma's house: 4. And as I got out of the car to give her a hug another one fell. A couple more fell on the way to my grandma's house, and then when I said goodbye to Byron another one fell. I tried to put myself together before walking in the house, but that was a failed attempt. When I walked in my Momma looked at me and said, "Do you know that your jacket is button on the wrong buttons?" I looked down, sure enough, it was. I must have looked like a child, not buttoning my jacket properly. Gracefulness: 0. Awkward clumsiness: 50 billion and two. I took my contacts out just in time for more and more tears to fall, and soon I was sobbing. My sobs were interrupted by Grandma opening the door complaining about my blonde hair all over her hair brush. I looked at her and said, "Grandma, can I move in and stay with you until graduation?" She laughed and said, "Only if you use your own dang (she didn't say "dang" she said a naughty word...) hair brush!"
This morning, we went over to Drew and Amy's house to visit with them and to see their adorable twin boys, Lance and Jonathon. The twins are soo cute, and it was good to talk to Amy and Drew. After making them promise to call me if they ever needed a babysitter, even though I live like 5 hours away, we headed back to Grandma's house to pack up. We said our goodbyes and then left town. As we were driving through Roscoe on highway 30, I noticed that Momma was speeding. So I yelled, "Mom! Cop!" She instantly took her foot off of the gas and shifted into a lower gear, "Where??" I laughed and said, "On the other side of the block, parked infront of Syd's house." She rolled her eyes and then put her foot on the gas again. I have to say, I'm proud of her, she went through this whole trip without getting pulled over. It must be a record of somesort. We call it the "Stofer-Heavy-Right-Foot-Disease". This heavy right foot disease makes it easy for me to get to school, practices, and rehearsals on time when I am late.
When we got home, the house was a disaster. But how could we expect anything more? There were two guys and no girls living here the past couple of days. So, we divided the house up into sections and started cleaning. I folded 9 baskets of clean laundry in less than half an hour, as well as cleaned the entire family room and foyer. It was intense, and the house looks amazing.
Friday, I spent the entire day with my grandma. Mom could tell that I had been around grandma a lot because she said that I was starting to talk like her and develop her stubborn attitude more and more. (Let's just say Momma and I didn't get along very well Friday afternoon.) In fact, she was so happy to get rid of me for the evening. Friday night was awesome. There are no other words for it. I love my friends, and I miss them so much. (Even though they made fun of my glorified fanny pack...) It was so much fun to be a part of the Ogallala band again for one night. I also was able to talk to Mr. Fruit at the game. I was involved in a lot of FCA stuff in Ogallala, so Mr. Fruit became one of my favorite teachers. One of the first things he asked me at the game was how my relationship and walk with God was going. I think it's truly amazing to see people who genuinely care about your relationship with the Lord. In general, it was just amazing to spend time with my friends, even if it was only for a little while.
As I said goodbye to Makenzi, Syd, and Chase, I kept my composure until I got in the car and then a couple of tears fell. I tried to hide them. I promised myself after the last choir concert that I would never make my friends have to deal with my emotional sobs again. I counted the tears on the way to Celie's grandma's house: 4. And as I got out of the car to give her a hug another one fell. A couple more fell on the way to my grandma's house, and then when I said goodbye to Byron another one fell. I tried to put myself together before walking in the house, but that was a failed attempt. When I walked in my Momma looked at me and said, "Do you know that your jacket is button on the wrong buttons?" I looked down, sure enough, it was. I must have looked like a child, not buttoning my jacket properly. Gracefulness: 0. Awkward clumsiness: 50 billion and two. I took my contacts out just in time for more and more tears to fall, and soon I was sobbing. My sobs were interrupted by Grandma opening the door complaining about my blonde hair all over her hair brush. I looked at her and said, "Grandma, can I move in and stay with you until graduation?" She laughed and said, "Only if you use your own dang (she didn't say "dang" she said a naughty word...) hair brush!"
This morning, we went over to Drew and Amy's house to visit with them and to see their adorable twin boys, Lance and Jonathon. The twins are soo cute, and it was good to talk to Amy and Drew. After making them promise to call me if they ever needed a babysitter, even though I live like 5 hours away, we headed back to Grandma's house to pack up. We said our goodbyes and then left town. As we were driving through Roscoe on highway 30, I noticed that Momma was speeding. So I yelled, "Mom! Cop!" She instantly took her foot off of the gas and shifted into a lower gear, "Where??" I laughed and said, "On the other side of the block, parked infront of Syd's house." She rolled her eyes and then put her foot on the gas again. I have to say, I'm proud of her, she went through this whole trip without getting pulled over. It must be a record of somesort. We call it the "Stofer-Heavy-Right-Foot-Disease". This heavy right foot disease makes it easy for me to get to school, practices, and rehearsals on time when I am late.
When we got home, the house was a disaster. But how could we expect anything more? There were two guys and no girls living here the past couple of days. So, we divided the house up into sections and started cleaning. I folded 9 baskets of clean laundry in less than half an hour, as well as cleaned the entire family room and foyer. It was intense, and the house looks amazing.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Still Awake
I don't know if it is the coffee or my excitement, but I cannot fall asleep. Country music usually puts me to sleep instantly, but I have been listening to country music for the past hour and I am still wide awake. I am so excited for this weekend! I can't wait to see all of my friends as well as my grandparents. On Friday night, I will be playing pep band in Ogallala! I am so excited! I haven't seen my amazing friends since mid-November when they were on my end of the state for All-State. I miss them so much. On Thursday night, Syd and I are having supper together, and we are also going to toss the ol' softball around a little bit. As of the new year, I am cleared to throw again. My shoulder still hurts like crazy, but cleared is cleared, I'm throwing. (Although, I realized as I was packing my softball glove in my bag that I forgot to put my batting gloves through the wash after the season was over, so they stink... really bad. In fact, the stink was so bad that now my entire softball equipment bag is contaminated with its putrid stench... yummy.) Anyway, long story short, I'm excited.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Undeniable
Please explain. I don't know what's going on. I had you all figured out, or so I thought. Your mixed signals and confusing actions never did make perfect sense to me. I understand you are going through a tough time right now, and maybe that is the explanation for your behavior. I cannot stand your conceited personality, yet it seems some what soothing to me. As if I couldn't go through a day without putting a cocky person such as your self in their place. But what, my friend, has changed? You are so different. Never in a million years did I think that our friendship (or whatever you want to call it) would turn out like this. Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. I'm not stupid, I see what's going on. Frankly, I don't think I'm okay with it. The past is undeniable, unfortunately, but it is to stay in the past. I was stupid then, but I have learned a few things. I may not be able to change your feelings or actions, but I will definitely not let them affect me.
Monday, February 4, 2013
"Making Melody With Your Heart"
This week one of my favorite verses came up when I was doing my devotions. In my high school praise band at church, we call this the "John 3:16 of music" or "Music 3:16".
Colossians 3:16 "Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God."
This verse is a good reminder of why God gives us our voices, to praise him. Not because He needs our praise, but because he deserves it more than anyone. I have this verse cross-referenced to another one of my favorite verses that also has to do with music.
Ephesians 5:19 "speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody with your heart to the Lord."
As I become more and more obsessed with the world of music that constantly surrounds me, I keep these verses in mind. They are excellent reminders of why I sing and why I even have the ability to sing.
Colossians 3:16 "Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God."
This verse is a good reminder of why God gives us our voices, to praise him. Not because He needs our praise, but because he deserves it more than anyone. I have this verse cross-referenced to another one of my favorite verses that also has to do with music.
Ephesians 5:19 "speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody with your heart to the Lord."
As I become more and more obsessed with the world of music that constantly surrounds me, I keep these verses in mind. They are excellent reminders of why I sing and why I even have the ability to sing.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
The Equip Project... and Daddy
For the past 8 months, our church has been under a little construction. And by a little construction, I mean 1.8 million dollars worth of construction. It was called the Equip Project I go to a very large church in Lincoln, on an average Sunday we have about 1,000 people in our congregation. They started this auditorium remodel job shortly after we moved back. The auditorium was completely cleaned out and newly updated. Instead of having church in the auditorium, they recorded the service in the Chapel (a much smaller auditorium) and broad casted it out to various other rooms with large screens in the church. It took a while for everyone to get used to this weird set-up, but now it is finally over with. Today was the first service in the new auditorium. It is amazing. Instead of the old purple pews, we now have actual seats. And the ugly bright blue carpet is gone! They created a brand spanking new orchestra pit, band pit, and choir loft. It looks amazing. I am honestly surprised that they go this all done in 8 months. This morning the sermon topic was about how in this day and age so many churches get caught up in making church "fun" and "modern" and that we need to focus more on the message that is being provided to us. It was a amazing. I was hanging off of the edge of my seat.
Going to a large church definitely has it's advantages, but I still loved going to New Hope. It was small, and every one knew every one. A couple weeks before we moved, I was walking into the bathroom before the sermon, and this elderly lady started talking to me about how much the church body would miss us, I had seen this lady almost every Sunday, but I didn't know her name. It made me think about the larger church that I would be moving back to. At Indian Hills, old ladies don't talk to people to make friendly conversation in the restroom. At Indian Hills, you basically only interact with the people you have already developed close bonds with. I really miss the small-church feel of New Hope.
Today, right before we were about to leave the house for church, Daddy came walking into the living room wearing black shoes, white socks, light wash jeans, a light blue, untucked button-up shirt, and a brown jacket/suit coat thing. I looked over at Momma and we both started laughing so hard. Dad isn't very talented with this whole matching clothes thing. Usually Mom and I pick out his clothing. If he had it his way, he would wear old button up shirts that are wrinkled and stained with the sleeves cut off, ripped jeans, and combat/hiking boots everyday. Plus, he can't even tie a tie; Mom always does it for him. He just recently bought himself a zip-up tie for when he has to wear a tie with his spiffy looking uniform for work. That zip-up tie is the most pathetic thing I have ever seen. As Dad was walking up the stairs to go change his clothes, Momma looked at me and said, "Don't marry a man who can't dress himself properly and think you will be able to change his ways. I have been trying to change the way your Daddy dresses for over 16 years now, and it doesn't work. Marry a man who can dress himself properly." And then we both laughed. I love my parents... :)
Going to a large church definitely has it's advantages, but I still loved going to New Hope. It was small, and every one knew every one. A couple weeks before we moved, I was walking into the bathroom before the sermon, and this elderly lady started talking to me about how much the church body would miss us, I had seen this lady almost every Sunday, but I didn't know her name. It made me think about the larger church that I would be moving back to. At Indian Hills, old ladies don't talk to people to make friendly conversation in the restroom. At Indian Hills, you basically only interact with the people you have already developed close bonds with. I really miss the small-church feel of New Hope.
Today, right before we were about to leave the house for church, Daddy came walking into the living room wearing black shoes, white socks, light wash jeans, a light blue, untucked button-up shirt, and a brown jacket/suit coat thing. I looked over at Momma and we both started laughing so hard. Dad isn't very talented with this whole matching clothes thing. Usually Mom and I pick out his clothing. If he had it his way, he would wear old button up shirts that are wrinkled and stained with the sleeves cut off, ripped jeans, and combat/hiking boots everyday. Plus, he can't even tie a tie; Mom always does it for him. He just recently bought himself a zip-up tie for when he has to wear a tie with his spiffy looking uniform for work. That zip-up tie is the most pathetic thing I have ever seen. As Dad was walking up the stairs to go change his clothes, Momma looked at me and said, "Don't marry a man who can't dress himself properly and think you will be able to change his ways. I have been trying to change the way your Daddy dresses for over 16 years now, and it doesn't work. Marry a man who can dress himself properly." And then we both laughed. I love my parents... :)
Friday, February 1, 2013
Friendly Advice
I told you, and I warned you, but usually you don't take my logic and advice into consideration.Was it not me comforting you through the last heart ache you had? Telling you that God has a plan, and you don't need to worry about dating as a sophomore. Was it not me that persuaded you out of irrational things and thoughts? Was it not me that was constantly by your side looking out for your best interests? You're a great friend, but sometimes I wonder what our friendship has escalated to. Do we take each other for granted? I certainly hope not. I can see right through her, but what I can't see is what you see in her. She is a teaser. She acts like she wants to be with you for a couple of weeks and then moves on to her next victim. You of all people should know that. I know how you can analyze thoughts and actions. Analyze her. What about her is so special? She is just going to let you down, dear friend. In about a month you will come to me saying "I should have listened." And as much as I would have the desire to say "I told you so.", I will comfort you just like I did last time. You are setting yourself up for hurt, why would you do that? I always trust your advice and warnings, why can't you trust mine?
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