Sunday, I don't want to start this week yet, the weekend went way too fast!! I don't have too much on my mind today other than a headache. Story week is over... Hope you enjoyed it!
Sacrifice. What does it mean? It really can mean anything. Mainly I think it means giving up something valuable of yours for someone else. That could be giving up time, or money or anything. You could give your life. I don't really know where I am going with this, I guess I was thinking about the sacrifices I make in my life. How most of the time they either go un-noticed or under gratified... not enough thank you's. But you know what the worst is? When you make a sacrifice no matter the size and someone complains! It doesn't matter what they are complaining about, but nothing feels worse than that! Cause we are all thinking, I did all this for you, and all you do is complain. We are all guilty of being that complainer! But also we have all been complained to. So why don't we stop complaining if we know how it feels. Well frankly I think we just forget sometimes what it is like to sacrifice. We forget what sacrifice really is. It's not just giving up something it's about giving up something valuable. Like your precious time, not matter what you are doing. Or like giving up you money... This one can be hard. Money these days seems to be all that matters. But really all that matters is love, and the time spent with the one you love. We all make sacrifices, but it's not a sacrifice if you complain about doing it. Don't forget why we make sacrifices. We make them because we love, and to show someone we love them we sacrifice everything for them, just hoping in return that they would do the same.
Don't be a complainer, be a lover.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Saturday, October 13, 2012
BAMB, I fell.... again
Saturday, the one day of the week it feels like you can actually relax. Today is the last day of Story week! Let me know if you liked it or not, so if you did maybe I can do it again.
The story I have been dying to tell, I think I will share today.
I was about 6 years old. It was almost summer, and I was enjoying the spring air playing in the drive way. My dad was in the garage working on some project and my mom and sister were getting ready to leave and go shop or something that "women" do. All morning I was playing with this little tykes car. It was yellow and red and you put your feet through the bottom to push the car. Only the driver side door opened, and the whole thing was plastic and small. But compared to my little kid body it was the perfect size for me. Right before my mom left she got on to me for trying to climb on top of my car. So naturally that made me want to do it more, and try harder. Finally when my mom and sister were gone I tried again. With my dad's back to me in garage, I started my climb. Things where going well as I climbed from inside the car, out the window to the top. But when most of my weight was out of the car, BAMB! I fell, which was a natural occurrence for me because I naturally have bad balance and fall a lot. But this fall, it was catastrophic. I fell face first into the concrete drive way. I had my glasses on, and they shattered, leaving behind a shard in my eyebrow. I instantly cried, and my dad walked over to see a puddle of blood and broken glass. He took me inside and gave me a wash cloth to hold on my eye while he called 911. The people on the phone told him to just drive me to the hospital because it would be faster and I might loose too much blood if we weight too long. I can't really remember much after that, until I saw the stitches above my eye. I think I had 7 or maybe 11? I'm not sure. But I know it was a lot! All this happened because I thought I was smarter than my mom. Oh goodness. I still have the scar today. For the amount of times I have hurt myself doing something similar to this is kind of crazy, but I think I turned out alright. I hope you got a nice laugh out of my story, because I kinda think its funny! I fell flat on my face.
That;s all for story week! Hope you enjoyed. See ya tomorrow for my thoughts on the world. :)
The story I have been dying to tell, I think I will share today.
I was about 6 years old. It was almost summer, and I was enjoying the spring air playing in the drive way. My dad was in the garage working on some project and my mom and sister were getting ready to leave and go shop or something that "women" do. All morning I was playing with this little tykes car. It was yellow and red and you put your feet through the bottom to push the car. Only the driver side door opened, and the whole thing was plastic and small. But compared to my little kid body it was the perfect size for me. Right before my mom left she got on to me for trying to climb on top of my car. So naturally that made me want to do it more, and try harder. Finally when my mom and sister were gone I tried again. With my dad's back to me in garage, I started my climb. Things where going well as I climbed from inside the car, out the window to the top. But when most of my weight was out of the car, BAMB! I fell, which was a natural occurrence for me because I naturally have bad balance and fall a lot. But this fall, it was catastrophic. I fell face first into the concrete drive way. I had my glasses on, and they shattered, leaving behind a shard in my eyebrow. I instantly cried, and my dad walked over to see a puddle of blood and broken glass. He took me inside and gave me a wash cloth to hold on my eye while he called 911. The people on the phone told him to just drive me to the hospital because it would be faster and I might loose too much blood if we weight too long. I can't really remember much after that, until I saw the stitches above my eye. I think I had 7 or maybe 11? I'm not sure. But I know it was a lot! All this happened because I thought I was smarter than my mom. Oh goodness. I still have the scar today. For the amount of times I have hurt myself doing something similar to this is kind of crazy, but I think I turned out alright. I hope you got a nice laugh out of my story, because I kinda think its funny! I fell flat on my face.
That;s all for story week! Hope you enjoyed. See ya tomorrow for my thoughts on the world. :)
Friday, October 12, 2012
Becoming Me
Friday, the last day of the week. I am so glad it is Friday. Today is day 6 of story week. I hope that you have enjoyed reading my stories.
We all have those moments that make us who we are. Those moments that define us, when you finally realize your gift or calling in life. Today I am going to tell you how I became an artist.
I grew up in an artistic home. My dad really likes to draw and things like that. Well my sister then became interested in art, so I naturally wanted to do art. Because I always had to follow my sister and do my best to be better than her. Growing up my dad would always give me drawing books to help me learn. I began to draw all the time. In the 6th grade is when things really hit for me. I met a friend that became very close and she loved to draw. She pushed me to be better and try different things. My freshman year I took my very first art class. I learned so much that year, and my teacher told me that I had natural talent. That gave me confidence. That year I did my fist painting, and boy did I love to paint. The feeling I would get when I would paint. It was and is now like I am in a different world. Everything goes away other than me and the painting. It is a feeling that comes only when things mean a lot to me or I really enjoy them. Throughout high school my art career just grew. My sophomore year I had my first art show, and I sold every painting I had for sale. I was barely 16 years old. My junior year I didn't do as much artwork as I would have liked, but I did a fair amount. Nothing super special happened that year with art. Senior year, things really took off. My paintings were going everywhere, from place to place from competitions to shows. It was stressful but also very fun. When I draw or paint I feel like a different person, and when I create something it shows a different side of me that is shown no where else but my work. After things are finished I always go back and think, this started out blank and I made it into this. It always stuns me, even if the work isn't very good. I love that feeling, and I love being an artist. Art is my life and my true expression.
We all have those moments that make us who we are. Those moments that define us, when you finally realize your gift or calling in life. Today I am going to tell you how I became an artist.
I grew up in an artistic home. My dad really likes to draw and things like that. Well my sister then became interested in art, so I naturally wanted to do art. Because I always had to follow my sister and do my best to be better than her. Growing up my dad would always give me drawing books to help me learn. I began to draw all the time. In the 6th grade is when things really hit for me. I met a friend that became very close and she loved to draw. She pushed me to be better and try different things. My freshman year I took my very first art class. I learned so much that year, and my teacher told me that I had natural talent. That gave me confidence. That year I did my fist painting, and boy did I love to paint. The feeling I would get when I would paint. It was and is now like I am in a different world. Everything goes away other than me and the painting. It is a feeling that comes only when things mean a lot to me or I really enjoy them. Throughout high school my art career just grew. My sophomore year I had my first art show, and I sold every painting I had for sale. I was barely 16 years old. My junior year I didn't do as much artwork as I would have liked, but I did a fair amount. Nothing super special happened that year with art. Senior year, things really took off. My paintings were going everywhere, from place to place from competitions to shows. It was stressful but also very fun. When I draw or paint I feel like a different person, and when I create something it shows a different side of me that is shown no where else but my work. After things are finished I always go back and think, this started out blank and I made it into this. It always stuns me, even if the work isn't very good. I love that feeling, and I love being an artist. Art is my life and my true expression.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Footprints On Your Heart
Thursday, today was a long day! I accomplished so much today. I do feel good about that. Well today is day 5 of story week. It's almost over! Comment if you like.
I will let you know, all my readers and fellow bloggers that I am going to post one blog everyday for one year. After that one year I will see whether I want to stop, or how well I'm doing. But my goal is everyday for one year. I started September 28, 2012 so on September 28 of 2013 I will tell you my new goal. Got it? Good.
We all have those moments when we meet someone so special they change everything about us. They change how we see ourselves. They make us stronger and they push us to be better. This someone special could be anybody. It could be a best friend, a spouse or even a sibling. But we all have those people that come into our lives and leave a mark. I'm gonna tell you how I met my someone special. Yup, I'm gonna write about the one I love and it is gonna be mushy and gushy so just read it and say awwwwweee to yourself.
I remember the first day I really noticed him. I had known him for a year but I never talked to him, or really to be honest, I didn't know that he even existed. One day after band practice he said "Hey you should come by my work and I'll give you a free cookie." And I just smiled and said "Yea, maybe." I did kinda blow him off, but that is the first time I can recall actually talking to him. I know its lame, but I'm kinda lame so it fits my life like a puzzle piece. Then we were in the same study hall and we became friends. Good friends. We would smile and talk a lot. One day our study hall took our jackets and wrapped us up in them to create a straight jacket and we had to help each other get out. Yea super romantic right?!! I know. Then for the homecoming basketball game he came to see me play, and just like any basketball game I got thrown on the floor and was injured in some form. But he tells me "I knew you were ok, because you are tough." I think we both know he was freaking out when I had a bruise and a nice raspberry on my shoulder after the game. It was after that night that I knew he had feelings for me, the only problem was that I was dating his best friend, and I had feelings for him too. He came to my birthday party, and it seemed like after homecoming he started to fight for me. He started to let it be known that I was important and I liked it. Pretty soon I was single and falling for my special someone, Allen. We have been together ever since. He has changed my life. He helped me start my blog. He also taught me how to be lazy, and trust me the art of laziness is a talent. He has helped me see who I am, and he has helped me accomplish so much as an artist. He has shown me love, and taught me what love really is. He cares for me and I care for him.
It's people like him that seem to change your life the most. The ones you never expected to be important. The ones you blow off for year and then you talk to them once and are instantly in love. It's those people that always leave you wondering why didn't I do this sooner? But it's people like this that always come right when you need them, and they stick. It's people like Allen that leave footprints on your heart that never fade.
I will let you know, all my readers and fellow bloggers that I am going to post one blog everyday for one year. After that one year I will see whether I want to stop, or how well I'm doing. But my goal is everyday for one year. I started September 28, 2012 so on September 28 of 2013 I will tell you my new goal. Got it? Good.
We all have those moments when we meet someone so special they change everything about us. They change how we see ourselves. They make us stronger and they push us to be better. This someone special could be anybody. It could be a best friend, a spouse or even a sibling. But we all have those people that come into our lives and leave a mark. I'm gonna tell you how I met my someone special. Yup, I'm gonna write about the one I love and it is gonna be mushy and gushy so just read it and say awwwwweee to yourself.
I remember the first day I really noticed him. I had known him for a year but I never talked to him, or really to be honest, I didn't know that he even existed. One day after band practice he said "Hey you should come by my work and I'll give you a free cookie." And I just smiled and said "Yea, maybe." I did kinda blow him off, but that is the first time I can recall actually talking to him. I know its lame, but I'm kinda lame so it fits my life like a puzzle piece. Then we were in the same study hall and we became friends. Good friends. We would smile and talk a lot. One day our study hall took our jackets and wrapped us up in them to create a straight jacket and we had to help each other get out. Yea super romantic right?!! I know. Then for the homecoming basketball game he came to see me play, and just like any basketball game I got thrown on the floor and was injured in some form. But he tells me "I knew you were ok, because you are tough." I think we both know he was freaking out when I had a bruise and a nice raspberry on my shoulder after the game. It was after that night that I knew he had feelings for me, the only problem was that I was dating his best friend, and I had feelings for him too. He came to my birthday party, and it seemed like after homecoming he started to fight for me. He started to let it be known that I was important and I liked it. Pretty soon I was single and falling for my special someone, Allen. We have been together ever since. He has changed my life. He helped me start my blog. He also taught me how to be lazy, and trust me the art of laziness is a talent. He has helped me see who I am, and he has helped me accomplish so much as an artist. He has shown me love, and taught me what love really is. He cares for me and I care for him.
It's people like him that seem to change your life the most. The ones you never expected to be important. The ones you blow off for year and then you talk to them once and are instantly in love. It's those people that always leave you wondering why didn't I do this sooner? But it's people like this that always come right when you need them, and they stick. It's people like Allen that leave footprints on your heart that never fade.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Silly Fears
Wednesday, October 10. Did you know that 3 weeks from today is Halloween? Life is moving so fast. Today is Day 4 of Story Week. Enjoy!
We all have fears. Some fears last our whole life and some only last a month or so. Whatever your fear is you can't let it hold you back. You know some of the things I fear: clowns, go-carts, the dark, confrontation and public speaking or singing or really anything I have to do in front of people. Some fears can be kind of dumb, but some fears are very serious and have a good reason behind them. Like my fear of go-carts.
It was my first time behind the wheel. Oh the power I felt when my hands caressed the tiny black steering wheel. The petals were green and red, labeled GO and STOP. With my mom sitting next to me, I experienced driving a go-cart! We were at Incredible Pizza. My mom was obviously not thinking straight when she said I could drive and that she would ride with me. Well I go behind the wheel, but I hadn't grasped the concept of "with great power comes great responsibility." I had the power but no clue what to do with it or how to use it. So I did what any kid would do behind the wheel. When they said GO! I put my foot on that bright green pedal and I put that pedal to the floor. I flew!! But I didn't get to drive for too long, because a couple seconds after putting the pedal to the metal I but the metal into a wall. Full speed right into a wall. I guess I didn't understand how to slow or turn the wheel. I just went fast and straight. Well I hit the wall so hard I flew forward hitting my head on the steering wheel, getting a cut going from my right eye up to my forehead. My mom was mad! Until she saw her baby girl bleeding. Then she felt bad and took me home. Needless to say we never did go-carts again.
We all have fears. Some fears last our whole life and some only last a month or so. Whatever your fear is you can't let it hold you back. You know some of the things I fear: clowns, go-carts, the dark, confrontation and public speaking or singing or really anything I have to do in front of people. Some fears can be kind of dumb, but some fears are very serious and have a good reason behind them. Like my fear of go-carts.
It was my first time behind the wheel. Oh the power I felt when my hands caressed the tiny black steering wheel. The petals were green and red, labeled GO and STOP. With my mom sitting next to me, I experienced driving a go-cart! We were at Incredible Pizza. My mom was obviously not thinking straight when she said I could drive and that she would ride with me. Well I go behind the wheel, but I hadn't grasped the concept of "with great power comes great responsibility." I had the power but no clue what to do with it or how to use it. So I did what any kid would do behind the wheel. When they said GO! I put my foot on that bright green pedal and I put that pedal to the floor. I flew!! But I didn't get to drive for too long, because a couple seconds after putting the pedal to the metal I but the metal into a wall. Full speed right into a wall. I guess I didn't understand how to slow or turn the wheel. I just went fast and straight. Well I hit the wall so hard I flew forward hitting my head on the steering wheel, getting a cut going from my right eye up to my forehead. My mom was mad! Until she saw her baby girl bleeding. Then she felt bad and took me home. Needless to say we never did go-carts again.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Running
Tuesday, Day 3 of Story week. Hope you enjoy. Comment if you want to! I would love to hear from you.
We all have those times that we just want to run away from life. We are stuck between a rock and a hard place, you cant move but all you want to do is run. This feeling comes when we are most hurt. When we don't know what to do anymore. Life has its ups and downs, but when we have those downs that just tear us apart that's when we have that instinct to run. Only the strong ones stay and stick it out. Think about that the next time you are just going through a rough time, remember how strong you are when you really stick it through.
When I was about 8 I tried to run away. I still can't remember why. I'm sure my mom said something like you have to clean your room and I didn't do it so I probably got in big trouble. I remember I had this very small baby blue PowerPuff Girl tent and I took it and I grabbed a blanket and a Barbie and I left. I took our little red wagon and I put my tent, blanket and toy in there and I rolled that wagon all around the neighborhood. I didn't make it far before it started to get cold and until my tummy started growling. So I set up camp in the front yard. I some trouble with my tent but I made it. I got my tent set up and got in it. It wasn't big enough for me to sit any other way than Indian Style with my head crouched down. After about 20 minutes and my neck cramping I got out. I saw my mom standing on the porch in wonder of what I was doing. She said "Andrea?" In that tone that we all know Mom's use when they are like "What in the world is my child doing?" So I looked her in the eye and said "I'm running away!" She just laughed at me and said "Why are you doing that?" I didn't really know how to answer that question because by that time I had realized I was unsuccessful at running away and I needed some food for my growing body. So I just said "Cause I wanna!" She looked at me with a stern smile and said, "Come and get dinner, grab your stuff and put the wagon away." I said "Ok mom." With a disappointed but yet relived tone. But while I was putting the wagon and tent away I realized that if I just wait a little longer I will be capable of running away. So I told myself I would wait a little longer. I never did run away. But I did make it in life just fine, and now I am on my own. Running away wasn't a good idea at 8. And it isn't a good idea now, no matter what you are facing.
We all have those times that we just want to run away from life. We are stuck between a rock and a hard place, you cant move but all you want to do is run. This feeling comes when we are most hurt. When we don't know what to do anymore. Life has its ups and downs, but when we have those downs that just tear us apart that's when we have that instinct to run. Only the strong ones stay and stick it out. Think about that the next time you are just going through a rough time, remember how strong you are when you really stick it through.
When I was about 8 I tried to run away. I still can't remember why. I'm sure my mom said something like you have to clean your room and I didn't do it so I probably got in big trouble. I remember I had this very small baby blue PowerPuff Girl tent and I took it and I grabbed a blanket and a Barbie and I left. I took our little red wagon and I put my tent, blanket and toy in there and I rolled that wagon all around the neighborhood. I didn't make it far before it started to get cold and until my tummy started growling. So I set up camp in the front yard. I some trouble with my tent but I made it. I got my tent set up and got in it. It wasn't big enough for me to sit any other way than Indian Style with my head crouched down. After about 20 minutes and my neck cramping I got out. I saw my mom standing on the porch in wonder of what I was doing. She said "Andrea?" In that tone that we all know Mom's use when they are like "What in the world is my child doing?" So I looked her in the eye and said "I'm running away!" She just laughed at me and said "Why are you doing that?" I didn't really know how to answer that question because by that time I had realized I was unsuccessful at running away and I needed some food for my growing body. So I just said "Cause I wanna!" She looked at me with a stern smile and said, "Come and get dinner, grab your stuff and put the wagon away." I said "Ok mom." With a disappointed but yet relived tone. But while I was putting the wagon and tent away I realized that if I just wait a little longer I will be capable of running away. So I told myself I would wait a little longer. I never did run away. But I did make it in life just fine, and now I am on my own. Running away wasn't a good idea at 8. And it isn't a good idea now, no matter what you are facing.
Monday, October 8, 2012
5 Year-Old Life Changer
Monday, boy can Monday's be hard. What is it about Monday's that makes it so rough. Is it that we aren't prepared yet for the week yet, and to prepare us, Monday is just awful so we can learn and be stronger for whatever comes next. Ok on to Story Week...
I talked in an earlier blog about those moments that we have that define us as a person. I will share one of those moments today.
It was in April of 2012, I went on a trip to Belize. It was life changing. I learned more about myself than I ever knew before. I learned how to be strong, I learned my limits are farther than I ever knew. Life changed for me. I learned how to love. I met a 5 year-old boy named Charleston. He loved so easily and so purely it was incredible. He had literally nothing. His life was nothing to those around him, but he was so happy and so loving. When I met him he walked up to me with a Frisbee. He was so cute, half my height big brown eyes and dark dark brown skin. His clothes had holes and dirt everywhere, but his smile was white and breathtaking. His laugh was adorable and would cheer anyone up. He was a snuggler too, if you picked him up he wouldn't let go. And he latched on to me. He walked up to me with a bright green Frisbee, he wasn't looking to play; he was looking for a friend and he found me. I took the Frisbee and hid his face and said "Where did you go?" He laughed and pulled the Frisbee down saying "HERE!!" I said "OH there you are!" That was the start. He grabbed my waist and hugged me, so tight I can still feel his little arms wrapped around me. Everyday after that he would wait for me in village, and when he would see me, he would yell my name "ANDREA" as he would run, arms open wide to me. I would hug him and pick him up and carry him everywhere I went. By the end of the day I would be covered in dirt because he never had clean clothes and we would play so many games. One day I walked by his house with the group I was with, he saw me from the window and he ran out to me, again yelling my name with open arms. I knelt down and talked to him. Everyday he would ask me if he would see me tomorrow and it broke my heart when I knew that someday soon I wouldn't see him tomorrow. I remember the last time I saw him as he walked away, then turned around and said 'Bye" with a wave. One day he told me he loved me, and I looked him in the eye and said "I love you too Buddy!" He smiled and hugged me. He changed my life. He showed me it doesn't take time to love, it just takes heart. He showed me that no matter what I can be happy, and I can love no matter what.
I talked in an earlier blog about those moments that we have that define us as a person. I will share one of those moments today.
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| This is Charleston and me. |
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