Our youth ministry is trying to get away from the conventional let's-go-to-SixFlags-and-wear-matching-Tshirts mindset. So Lizzie (another intern) started a student art gallery. We give a them a topic and then hang their art (drawing, painting, photography, etc.) in the hallway next to the Dungeon, which is our youth room. We just hung up the submissions for the second topic which was "If I could I would..." so, if I could I would...
-write a book
-draw, paint, take pictures, or anything else that would qualify as "art"
-get paid to play soccer (or football if your country of origin/preference is anywhere outside North America)
-not work with children under the age of 12
-sing well.
-play an instrument again
NOTE: I am tempted to put types of things like "Give such-and-such charity a million dollars" or "Buy a house for so-and-so" but I'm not going to. Just know that if I could I would make all of your dreams come true. I don't have time to do so now though; I have 55 under-12 year olds waiting for me.

Hello all. No interesting car news this time, thank goodness; I don't think I can take much more. I started writing a blog on Friday at work. On paper. There were 50 kids outside and one left inside working on homework. Somehow I managed to be in charge of the one. muy bueno. While writing I re-realized how cool the sound of freshly sharpened pencil on notebook paper is, and it got me thinking. The results of said process are as follows.
Other unique and fascinating sounds:
-The sucking back sound after you take a drink from juice-box. (Try it you'll like it.)
-The sound of your skis scraping on ice. (And the veritable plethora of snow-crunching, bone-breaking sounds that usually follow.)
-"You've got mail!"
-The crackling of a campfire.
-Kermit the Frog's voice.
I have to go now. Most of me wants to erase this blog and start all over, but I don't have time to do that tonight. Normally I would erase it and just have one more day of bloglessness but I'm trying to blog more often. I figure the only way to prove that I am blogging is to hit the "post" button, so here it goes...(just for the record, 10 minutes just past while my normal human-being shoulder angel and the other complex-ridden creature continued debating as to whether or not to post. The fact that you're reading this means that, for the first time in my blogging history, the normal human-being won.) goodnight.

My last attempt at blogging was a dismal failure so we're starting all over. Blank page. Love it. I think there may be someone out to get me. I know that, at some point or another, everyone thinks that, but it might be true in my case. (Yes, I am also aware that everyone thinks it "might be true in their case".) Please allow me to fill you in on my week. Early last week I almost got broadsided by some lady talking away on her cell phone. After a swerve one way, then the other (to then avoid getting hit by my mother, who saw the whole thing and was panicking) I was back in the saddle. No big deal. Then last Wednesday, on my way home from school, I came around a corner and found myself unable to down-shift. Then, once in neutral, unable to shift at all. So there I was, stuck on a blind turn with no where to go, and no way to go even if there had been a "where". I managed to pull of into the median/crate myrtle and called mom. She called Brian the car guy who called the tow truck. We were out of there in no time. Relatively painless. On Friday, since the Mustang was in the shop, I drove my mom's car to school. 6:30am and I was on my way, mentally preparing for the two speeches I was to give that morning. Then, suddenly, the dreaded blue and red blinking started behind me. I wasn't speeding AT ALL so I wasn't too worried, but it still got the adrenaline pumping. Mr. Police Officer, whom we'll call Jack, steps up to the window and begins his interrogation. I was going to school. NCTC. I'm nineteen. ect. Then, finally, he informs me that the reason he pulled me over was because I have a headlight out. "Were you aware of the fact that your headlight is out?" no. I never drive this car. Then Jack went back and sat in his car for about 10 min. While I sat there wondering what was taking so long. He returned to his flashlight-in-the-face stance and gave me the "will you step out of the car please?" insert very long pause here which instilled fear "I want to show you which light's out." I'm thinking "Point Jack. Just POINT!" I kept my mouth shut, did what he said and was on my way with no ticket. Thanks Jack. You're a sport. Then today... I'm not going into all the details because it's 2am and this blog is entirely too long. I got the Mustang back from the shop on Monday. Today, Wednesday, I got in a wreck (not at all my fault). 3 cars. One rolled. One lady went to the hospital (I'm pretty sure she's ok). My car was the only one left drivable, though it may be totaled.
Needless to say it's been a suck week. Special shouts out to Sadie and Stuart. You made my day...week. And on that note I declare this month an official "do-over."

This blog signifies the beginning of yet another very late night. I have an essay due tomorrow and I've yet to decide on the topic. I narrowed it down to two out of the original six choices, and now continue the procrastination process.
Today was the worst day of work yet (and this includes having to call 911 on the very first day). After hearing the horror stories, my mom suggested quitting before the risk of her never having grandchildren increases. I told her it might be too late. Then I considered quitting. I did have a relatively entertaining discussion about the bazaar-ness that is "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory." Special thanks to Steve for the fantastic impression of the beady-eyed guy in the psycho tunnel.
On a lighter, less child-oriented note:
-I love rain. I love the sounds, the colors, and even the moods. I love it.
-Random Dr. Phil fact for you: if you eat one glazed doughnut every day for a year, you will have gained 30 pounds by the end of the year. Do with that what you will.
-And lastly... nope that's it. I'm spent. Goodnight all.

First I just want to say that it's only been two days since my last blog. This won't be much but, hey, baby steps. I have a sick obsession with late nights. The past two nights I've had every opportunity to go to sleep at a resonable hour and...well... haven't. The thought of actually going to bed doesn't even enter my mind until 11ish and then I have this whole routine of getting ice cream, reading, checking e-mail (occasionally responding) and tonight, thrown into the mix, is blogging. That's my time though and I can't just skip my time. And, with that, I'm going to go sleep, but first I'd like to thank Maggie for making my day. "you don't know how lovely you are."

Conclusions I've come to today:
-A month of bloglessness is...(insert word of choice here. Options may include "fantastic!" "enough" or "ridiculous" You are welcome, but in no way limited to these).
-I have a week longer to write than I expected to have this morning.
explanation: Last week in my "Grammer and Composition" class we turned in a writing sample. This week I went to class confident that the teacher would have read it, poured red ink on it, and then thrust it in my face while mumbling something about doing the blank page a disservice by writing and to quit immediately (sprinkled with obscenities, of course). Despite my Anne Lamott mental illnesses, said scenario did not take place so I figure I have until our next essay is due.
-And lastly, you know that moment when you're walking toward someone and neither of you knows which way to go so you just kind of fidget one way, but then you have to switch to the other way because you both went the same direction the first time, but the problem now is that you both switched which makes both of you panic for a split second until you figure it out like mature adults and just walk by (no doubt feeling like an idiot)? you know that moment? I like it.