Wacky Wednesday

Author's Note: The following come from real conversations. They are the crazy, funny, or profound things heard in everyday, sober conversation or discovered in a book. If you ever hear a great/weird conversation, please feel free to send it to me. Who knows, it may be featured in a Wacky Wednesday! <>< Katie

Katie: I'm going to write that down for Wacky Wednesday.
Jennifer: No! You have to wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow is Wednesday.
Katie: No, no, no Wacky Wednesday is only the first Wednesday of the month.
Jennifer: Well, tomorrow is the first Wednesday of the month you've been with me!

Allyson: I don't know why "bewares" camed out.

Dad: Do you need any help with anything before I go to bed?
Uncle Bill: You could brush my teeth for me or take out my contacts. I'll just lay there.
Dad: I'm going to hurt you in the morning.

Katie: What's the weather like outside?
Elizabeth: It's like medium.

Mom: Ooooh! Do these stoplights tweet like the ones in Baptist Country? Oh, no, those are real birds.

Katie: You've got candy all over your face.
Amy: Your face is candy!

Alex: You have to assert your manhood.
Jennifer: I don't have any manhood to search.

Dad: Do you growl at them sometimes?
Laura: [Sheepishly] Yeah. [Proudly] I even bark at them sometimes!

Laura: The capital of Honduras is To-gucci-golf-ball.

"I don't think I'm a failure because I have had fears, and I certainly don't think that it is a requirement for Christians to forgo fear in order to be good followers of Christ. I believe fear is the natural response to the question satan whispered, and I find that every day I have to adjust my footing consciously to move toward Jesus." - Angie Smith, What Women Fear, 4

Sara: You [Katie] only have good ideas today. And on Wacky Wednesday.

Alex: Katie, what would you say are Jennifer's top three qualities?
Jennifer: You can't just limit it to three; I have so many. Humility is one of them.

[SC, 16, counting on her fingers]
Katie: Do you need me to take off my shoes?
SC: Huh?
[explained]
SC: But why did she make it sound like an insult?

Girl, 13: There are no cows here, so--!

Amy: What is that?
Katie: It's a flower on the top of the mountain. It was my attempt at being artsy. Apparently I'm not as good as Allyson.
Amy: No, I like it. I was just... confused.

Boy, 11: You can stay here and you won't even have to fold laundry!

Jennifer: I like your ring. Who made it for you? [She had]
Katie: I don't know. Some stranger.
Jennifer: Stranger than who?
Katie: Allyson.
Allyson: What?

Allyson: Wait! Was this morning Wednesday?

"The world is not going to teach us how to love God; only God can do that." - Angie Smith, What Women Fear, 43

David: The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker.
Rebekah: That's what little girls are made of!

Jennifer: My right foot writes well.

Carson: I don't really understand why girls like making their heads look like horse butts.
Girls: What?!
Carson: Ponytails. Where is a pony's tail? The butt.

Mother: We could cage him [the dog].
Son: We could cage Brother.

Rebekah: Like you licking Nikki?
Katie: NO!!
Rebekah: Sorry, Nikki licking you?

Mark: You [Katie] take the left over brownies. They'll look better on you than they will one me.

Katie: Ok, I'm going to leave it blank.
Alex: Go to the bank.
Jennifer: Why are you going to the bank?! It's 11pm. They're closed.

Katie: I have helicopter parents: they hover but they don't choke.

Allyson: I don't think we were acting too strange.
Katie: We were pretty normal for us but strange for most people.
Allyson [light bulb]: That was it!

Nikki: MW did it, and if he can do it then so can I, maybe even teach at a better university.
Katie: Woah, woah, woah! First, did you just compare yourself to All Star English Major MW? Second, did you just dis our alma mater?

"Faith for my deliverance is not faith in God. Faith means, whether I am visibly delivered or not, I will stick to my belief that God is love. There are some things only learned from a fiery furnace." - Oswald Chambers in Run Today's Race

Allyson: Are you going to get your haircut?
Jennifer: I don't know where.
Allyson: Tah-tay-tow?

Neal: Are you blogging?
Katie: Are you making fun of me?
Neal: I don't make fun of people.
Katie: Neither do I.
Neal: You're not sarcastic either.

Sarah: He's not Slut Bucket; he's Garret the Ferret.
Rebekah: He's not a rodent!
Sarah: He's more of a rodent than a slut.
Garret: Hey, now!

Allyson: Katie's just so cool. She has good body language, too, and her thinking is so... inter... intermaculate. It's real cool. And, Katie, I like her walk.

"We don't just want to get them out of the dumpsite; we want to get the dumpsite out of their hearts." - Tania Meza

Wacky Wednesday- Friday Edition

Christina: Will it go on your blog?
Katie: You betcha.
Mom: On Wacky Wednesday?
Katie: Yup.  I haven't had a Wacky Wednesday in awhile.
Mom: What?!  You've been with your family!  How could you NOT have a Wacky Wednesday?
Katie: I have plenty of quotes for a Wacky Wednesday, but I haven't written one.
Christina: Have a Friday Edition of Wacky Wednesday.
Mom: On Thursday!
Katie: It seems only appropriate since I have no idea what day of the week it is anyway.

Mom: Ooooh!  I'm a trash compactor and I can vacuum seal the bag!

Dad: How did I get in this family?
Auntie Gwennie: Better question: how do I get out?

Katie: We're lost... outside (without the car)... in Minnesota... in January!  All because Mom wanted seafood... in Minnesota... in January!  It might be August before I warm up!

Mom: Then we can go to Denise and Greg's, and Greg can do the photo shoot in his... jammies.
Laura: As long as he doesn't sleep naked.

Auntie Gwennie: Doesn't iron give you energy or something?
Uncle Bill: Tina, you've taken anatomy.  Is that true?
Christina: Well, we studied iodine.

Mom [making white frosting]: There's something green in here.  Oh, and red.  Who put jimmies in my frosting?
Katie: Jimmy!  Get out of the frosting!
Laura: Jimmy want to go in the frosting for a swim.
Katie: No, Jimmy licks the frosting.
Mom: Grandpa!
[Grandpa Jim taught my sisters and me to steal frosting from a cake without anyone noticing]

Dad:  What's wrong?  Why are you up so early?
Katie: It's ten-thirty, eleven-thirty to my body.
Dad: That's it.

Aunt Denise: Gail!  You can't give him a present just because it says his name!
Mom: It says his name, just in the wrong spot!

Dad: Get naked and give me twenty.
Uncle Jay: I am not getting naked in front of you!  And I'm not giving you twenty bucks either for that matter.

Mom: I will not put the Advent candles on Christina's birthday cake!

Katie: Ok, Daddy, I'm ready!  I'm even wearing Grandma's long underwear.  Where'd you go?
Dad: I'm hiding!

Mom: Do you want a poker stick to get the Christmas lights all the way up there?
Dad: I don't need a poker stick.  I have Katie!

I was startled out of dream world by Laura's shouting.
Laura: That's ok; she loves me!
Without opening my eyes I knew--much to my dismay--that I was the she.
Katie: No she doesn't!
That wasn't going to stop her.  When my bedroom door flew open, I threw my pillow over my face. There was no way to avoid whatever I was about to be the victim of, but my pillow would protect my face as I prayed for the best.  Laura crawled on top of me in bed.  Between the two of us, we make a normal-sized person, but that doesn't mean I like to be on the bottom of our person.
Laura: Katie, give me a hhhhhhhhug!

Mom [to Dad]: Do not pants your daughter!

Laura: Mom, I saw an animal outside.
Mom: What kind of animal was it?
Laura: Um... a giant white gerbil with a raw tail.
Mom: An opossum.

Man at Quiznos: Chips?
Mom: No, thanks.
Man: Beer, bourbon, scotch?
Mom: Oooh! Scotch, please.

Ben: Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Ax.  Sorry in advance for drinking all of your milk.
He and three friends (the one other male among them being lactose intolerant) were here thirty-six hours, and they drank three gallons of milk.

Christina: Katie, what are you going to do when you're married?
Katie: Have kids.
Christina: And make them empty the dishwasher? Even your one year old? Does he have to empty the dishwasher?
Katie: It's a she.
Christina: And your three month old? Does she have to empty the dishwasher, too?
Katie: Yeah, he gets the plates up to the top shelf without needing any help. Wait a second! Why do I have a one year old and a three month old? Oh boy!
Mom: Adoption.
Christina: Your husband was married before. Katie got a used one!

Marathon Christmas

I grew up thinking this was normal.  I grew up thinking a lot of things were normal, myths my roommates have quickly dispelled.  You mean everyone doesn't have four Christmas trees and a 30-hour Christmas?  I supposed now you're going to tell me everyone has more than three cousins, too, right?

Christmas Eve
3:00pm- "Get in the car now!"

4:00pm- We start Christmas where all Christmases should begin: in church.  We pass the bulletin from one end of the pew to the other, share notes, and split a half a piece of gum thirteen ways.  You think I'm kidding.

6:00pm- "And WHY are you snow blowing in your Christmas suit?"
All thirteen of my maternal side of the family is gathered in my aunt and uncle's kitchen.  We're munching on meatballs, shrimp, and the world famous cheese dip.  We need something in the stomachs as we begin a long night of alcohol consumption.

7:00pm- "Maybe we should open presents." 
"Yes, that bow is beautiful on your head." 
"What kind of tape did you use?  It's impossible to rip!"

8:00pm- Grandpa and Grandma get a fifteen minute head start (we even use the microwave timer) to light candles and turn on lights before the entire party mobilizes to Grandpa and Grandma's house.  We open presents first from my grandparents and second from my aunt and uncle from out of town.

9:00pm- Grandpa and Grandma serve us pizza subs on paper plates just to have some substance during our night of grazing.  "Sure, I'd love some blackberry wine."

10:00pm- My family's turn for the fifteen minute head start.  There are advantages and disadvantages to being the last house in the round-robin.  The biggest disadvantage is that the hair and makeup need remedial help before the photograph in front of the tree.

11:00pm- "Who wants to be Santa?"

12:00am- Grandpa and Grandma decide it's time to go home.

1:00am- "Someone has to eat my food!"

2:00am- We karate chop the remaining family out of here, clean up the kitchen, and set up for the morning.  Time for bed!

For the next four to six hours visions of sugar plums dance in our heads while Santa flies over head.

Christmas Day
8am- "Santa's been here!"

9am-  The family gift exchange and Santa presents are opened on Christmas morning.  Dad gets coal.  And the grille to go with it.  Mom cries when she opens the puzzle photo collage of my sisters and me growing up.  My flannel jeans from Cabela's miraculously fit!  "Dad, I got you a six pack of beer just because I can.  No, I don't want one." 

10am- "Get in the car!  We're late!"

11am- "Are we there yet?"

12pm- Growing up, my family was always the last to arrive at my paternal grandparents' house.  Some traditions die hard.  Christmas dinner will be served at two.  I regret not eating more than a banana for breakfast and dive into the chips, fudge, and pie on the kitchen table.

1pm- I'm in a photo war with Travel Buddy, my uncle who's a professional photographer.  I take literally 178 photos.

2pm- The Charlie Brown Tree. 
Every year my grandparents go to the tree farm and find the most ridiculous tree in the $5 bin.  It's too thick to put ornaments on it.  It's so thin you can see through it.  It has two tops.  They then barter until the owner lets them buy the tree for $3.  They give him a $2 tip.  This year the tree branches needed to be transplanted, so they got it for $2 with a $1 tip.  Remember, the camera adds ten pounds.

3:00pm- "This restaurant is only open twice a year, so you'd better dig in!"
Thanksgiving dinner is remarkably similar to Christmas dinner.  The main difference is that the men are actually allowed to sit in the dining room with the women rather than being banished to the kitchen.  We pass rolls by overhand tossing, make the misbehaving adults sit at the children's table, and, heaven forbid, we forget the olives.

5:00pm- Photo shoot! 
Each family.  "At least pretend like you like each other."  All the girls.  All the boys.  "Stop that!"  Three generations.  "Where'd Grandpa go now?"  All the granddaughters.  All eleven of us.  The stray people we picked up on the street.  All dogs.  "Ok, my camera's memory card is full."

6:00pm- "Yes, I'd like a brandy old fashion, please.  We're going to be here for awhile."
Commence the longest present opening extravaganza in the history of present openings.  Grandma hands the first present to Tina.  Tina opens it, throws the wrapping paper on the floor, and examines it for fifteen and a half seconds before she must stand to pick and hand out the next present.  If she surpasses her allotted fifteen and a half seconds, the entire crowd shouts, "PICK A PRESENT!"

7:00pm- Fifteen minute intermission to fill the glasses and empty the bladder.

7:15pm- "Pick a present!"

8:00pm- "PICK A PRESENT!"
Every year Grandma and Grandpa give each of their four grandkids a gold ornament engraved with our names, the year, and "Love, Gma & Gpa."  After twenty-some years, Wal-mart stopped making the ornaments, so Grandma had to get creative.  This year she bought some silver ones from Target and engraved them herself.

9:00pm- "Pick a present" brouhaha is finally over after three hours of present opening!  Grandma and the four granddaughters sit in the heaps of wrapping paper for the annual photo.  Grandma boasts that she is 71 and can still get down on the floor.  We help her up.

10:00pm- Grandma asks who brought the iPod for the traditional Christmas Day dancing in the kitchen.  No one has music; no one has the energy to dance.  The men are Wii bowling in the kitchen.  Grandpa's winning.  "That's an awful nice purple dress you've got there, Jim," Greg says, and the crowd rolls.  Grandpa's using my Mii.

11:00pm- The food comes back out for those who are hungry.  I eat some cherry pie, little smokies, sweet potatoes, and fudge.  In that order.  "Shhhhh!  Someone may be sleeping."

12:00am- That someone should be me.  But we're having too much fun retelling old stories, hacking up lungs, and laughing hysterically.

1:00am- That someone is me.  It's the only night of the year when I can sleep with socks on because of the heat problems in the old farmhouse.  Yet I sleep with a smile on my face.  Another great Christmas!

I love hearing about Christmas traditions.  What are yours?

<>< Katie

That's My Daddy

Every Christmas my entire extended family worships together to start our Christmas Eve brouhaha.

As a toddler, I would walk between the knees of my relatives and the pew in front of us.  One of my uncles, neither will fess up to being the culprit but it could have feasibly been either one, handed me a piece of paper and told me to take it to my other uncle.

I looked down at the piece of paper, recognized a big "D" scribbled and loudly proclaimed, "That's my daddy!"

The paper really said, "Dork."

Yeah, church was pretty much over for my family at that point in time.
Happy Monday!
<>< Katie

Christmas Wishes from the Fire Department

Somewhere between ten and eleven on Sunday night reality hit.  It was bedtime and we still had "miles to go before [we] sleep and miles to go before [we] sleep."  Three hours worth of miles.

I offered to switch and drive for awhile, but Amber pointed out that might be futile since I was yawning too.  She said she'd just curl up and go to sleep rather than keep me awake, but I wouldn't fall asleep while she was driving.  Probably true.  A few days earlier we'd learned the hard way that her reaction time is good even when she's tired.

Hit was a sudden, God-send burst of energy, I began the most animated, elaborate retelling of one of my favorite Christmas Eve stories. Followed by three hours worth of other stories, laughter, and no yawns at all. 

It was Christmas Eve afternoon and I was almost done getting ready for the traditional brouhaha when the smoke detector went off.

As a teenager, what to do in case of a fire had been drilled into my head.  I went out the garage door and passed both cars in the garage.  I found out later that my sisters were in the car ready to go, unaware that the smoke detector was going off.  When I rounded the house and headed towards our "meeting place" I realized there is a flaw in our plan: snow makes the meeting place hard to get to.  But it didn't matter because I saw both of my parents just chilling in the kitchen.

I opened the backdoor and walked back in.  Apparently my mom had spilled something in the oven earlier in the day and wanted to clean it out before everyone came over.  She used the self-cleaner oven feature for the first time and it set the smoke detector off.  Other than a hazy house, everything was fine.

The security system on our house is supposed to call the police if our house is broken into and fire department if the smoke detector goes off.  We were literally five minutes away from leaving for six hours.  We didn't want to come home (with the entire extended family fifteen minutes behind us) to discover our door had been broken down because we didn't answer.

Dad called the non-emergency fire department number to tell them everything was fine.

Fireman: Since you called, we have to send a truck out.

Great.  Although, we later learned if the security system had called they would have sent trucks from two different stations because we're right in the middle between the two.  As it were, the other station got an ambulance call around the same time.  I like to think that in inconveniencing ourselves we saved a life.  Whatever, Katie.

Anyway.  Fire truck came.  Big flashing lights.  Alarmed neighbors called.  Firemen stood in the back hall and listen to our crazy story.  They didn't even go into the kitchen!  They left.  Dad called the security system people to make sure the fire department isn't going to be called again.  Ultimately, against their advice, he disconnected our security system.

We showed up to my aunt and uncle's church a half hour late.  My cousin's choir, the reason we were going to church there, was returning to their seats.  We did make the pastor's day because the sanctuary was full, so they put seats in the atrium for us.  This is why we don't save seats on Christmas Eve anymore.  You never know when some firemen are going to make you late to church.

After church we began our normal round-robin at my aunt and uncle's house.  Food, drinks, presents, cookies, moving on.  The entire party of 13 journeyed to my grandparents' house for a repeat.  Food, drinks, presents, cookies, moving on.

Our house was the last in our parade.  We are also the only house with a functioning fire place.  My uncle from out of town wanted to roast chestnuts over our fire.  It made the kitchen a little smokey, but we didn't think anything of it.

Until my aunt shouted, "FIRE IN THE OVEN!"

Some bread dish--the same dish that had spilled earlier--was literally flaming inside of our oven.  That's bad.  One uncle grabbed a hot pad, pulled out the pan, and held it over the sink.  The other uncle blew out the flames.  Dad took the scorched pan and threw it in a snowbank in the back yard where it stayed for the next three days.

Of course, the fire alarm went off again and the house is full of smoke.  For the second time that day we opened all of the windows to let the frigid winter air into our home and the smoke out into the world.  I'm pretty sure the temperature in my kitchen was below freezing that Christmas.  I camped out in the basement, the warmest place in the house.

No more chestnuts roasting over an indoor fire.  No more flaming bread dish.  Just a great Christmas tale.  And a year full of photos with the fire extinguisher in them.

About a week later my mom's oven still needed to be cleaned.  So she set the self-cleaner again and opened the kitchen window.  She was on the phone with my aunt when she heard sirens in our area.  It's not really that uncommon because there are two deadly traffic corners within a mile of our house.  Except this was a fire engine siren.  Getting closer.  And closer.  And closer.

Mom: I've got to go.  That firetruck is coming down our street.

It stopped two houses away where they had a small electrical fire.

I hope this Christmas there are no unexpected guests.  Especially those that drive a big red vehicle and wear yellow suits.  Happy December First!

<>< Katie

Give Thanks

"Happy Thanksgiving," said the man on the other end of the phone.  Those two words caught my off guard and it wasn't just because the phone was answered on the first ring.

Every holiday my dad answers the phone by wishing the caller a happy day.  Happy Thanksgiving.  Merry Christmas.  Happy New Year.  Happy Labor Day... you get the idea.  I've listened to him do this all my life, but we've always been on the same side of the phone.

"Happy Thanksgiving," I choked back.

Two words was all he needed to recognize my voice, and I heard the smile in his.  For the next hour we played "Pass the phone" with my nine relatives.

I was told that this year our family was not separated by gender.  Instead of men in the kitchen and women in the dining room, all nine of them fit around the dining room table.  Somebody got the bright idea that they should all share something they're thankful for.  I'm thankful I wasn't there for Sap Fest.

Christina: I'm thankful for Jesus.
Aunt: I'm thankful for our family and that we don't fight.
Uncle: [to my aunt] I'm thankful we're not facebook friends.
Grandma: I'm thankful we're all alive and here and...
Mom: I'm thankful Laura loves her college, and they were able to "unbreak" our dog.
Dad: I'm thankful we're all healthy. [insert sappy sermon here]
Grandpa: I'm thankful for your momma and that she puts up with me.  I love her.

I've never heard my grandparents express love to each other.  Love pats here and there but sassiness is more common.  For my grandfather to compliment my grandmother and say he loves her in front of all of those people made Grandma cry.  I've seen the video to prove it.

How was your Thanksgiving this year?  Was it the typical sweet potatoes, turkey, and pumpkin pie?  Was it merely a the precursor to Christmas?  Or was it really a time of reflection and thankfulness? 

My friend Caitlin is extending Thanksgiving for a year.  For the next 365 days she's going to share something she's thankful for.  I'd love to be able to do the same thing.  Look at every day with the realization that I do have something to be thankful for.

Even when it rains.  Even when my suitemates pick on me.  Even when my computer refuses to cooperate.

I still can be thankful.  I can still tell someone I am thankful for their influence in my life.  Thankful for their love.  Their smile.  Their encouraging word.

I can tell Christ I am thankful for His sacrifice.  Thankful for His love.  Thankful for His controlling, disciplining hand.

I wasn't going to post about being thankful.  After all, it's Thanksgiving.  That's kind of the cliche thing to do, right?  Wrong.  It's something we need to do more often than we do.  Not just on the fourth Thursday of November.  Be thankful around the year.

Cyber friends, I am thankful for you.

<>< Katie

The Birthday Bash

My extended family of thirteen took our annual birthday celebration on the road to a cabin in a world where pine trees are planted in perfect rows, motels pride themselves on having cable tv and air conditioning, and the nearest town had a high school but no grocery store.  I've written two blog posts about our journey but both left me with a "Who cares?" feeling.  So I'm going to try something a little different.  Let me know if you like it or not. 

<>< Katie

(Most photo credits belong to Laura but some are mine and some Mom's)

One day we went tubing and kayaking down the river.  We were expecting a two-hour adventure, but it really took upwards of four.  The beer cooler got its own tube, but we forgot to pack food.  I felt like a message in a bottle; except at one point I was being blown upstream rather than down.

We had four dogs with us.  This is Holly, Queen of the World.  I was less than thrilled when she decided I needed a wake-up kiss on my nose at 8am...

Cassie, my family's dog, seems to think eating is optional.  Before we left, my aunt looked up the nearest animal ER: twenty-one minutes away.  She forgot to look up a people ER.  We teased there we were so much in the middle of nowhere that there was no 911.  That joke was a whole lot funnier before we had an incident when calling 911 would have been appropriate.

One uncle tried to make a pudgy pie with no spray and only one piece of bread.  I'm glad I caught the novice... crisis adverted.

Dad: Breakfast is always good when it involves a hammer.  Katie!  Write that one down.

My uncle walked in one afternoon and found my male cousin painting my sister's toenails.  My uncle laughed at my cousin.  Personally, I think painting fingernails and braiding hair are two life-skills that boys should have.  My uncle--who has a wife but no children--claimed he could braid hair, so I let him try.  It took two tries before he got this in my head but gave up before he had to use a ponytail holder... hence the twisty stolen from the bread bag.

My favorite thing: fire

Laura's favorite thing: feet

(both sarcastic)

Grandpa: What do you guys have against feet?  Feet are wonderful people!

Wacky Wednesday

Let's face it: we all say funny stuff.  Sometimes it made sense in our heads and didn't come out correctly, sometimes it didn't make sense inside and still came out, and sometimes it's only funny when plucked from context. 
<>< Katie

Chris: If you're going to call 9-1-1, you should take a picture first.
Katie: I'm not going to use that as a rule of thumb, but if it involves Big Foot, then I definitely agree.

Mom: Your parents are in a tornado warning, by the way.
Dad: My parents?  Do they know that?

Elizabeth: I wonder if I can do that (she ran her hand along the hairdo on a magazine model)
Katie: You should try it.
Elizabeth: I might need to borrow your head.

Laura: My elbow hurts.  No it doesn't.  I just felt like saying that.

Jay: Abs of steel!  Grunt!  Oh, don't do it.

Gwen: Where was I?  Why was I here eating cake?

I was sitting in my room reading a book, as I had been for the last several hours. Laura burst in (without knocking) to tell me about a conversation she thinks she overheard.
Christina: Katie smells like sesame chicken.
Mom: Katie is sesame chicken.
Thanks. Thanks a lot.

Mom: Get your toe-jams out of my armpit!

[Dad has Katie in a headlock]
Dad: You're getting too old for this.
Katie: No, you're getting too old for this.

Christina: Mom, when's my ortho appointment?
Mom: Ortho?  You mean dentist appointment.
Christina: Whichever one is to get rid of my big jumble of guts.
Mom: Most people call them wisdom teeth.

Dad: Brett, look at the back of your dad's head, Ryan's dad's head, and my head.  How do you think that happened?
Brett [age 13]: Too many noogies.
Dad: Who is the noogie loser?

I had just done a Margarita with a Twist (a flip) into our pool, and it messed up my contacts.
Katie: Woah, y'all are blurry.
Christina: Do you want my noodle?  Here!
Katie: Funny thing, I don't need to be able to see to tread water, but thanks.

Bryce [age 15, practically my cousin]: Katie, come to the park with us!  We'll find cute boys.
(a few hours later)
Bryce:  I got this for you.  It's a friendship for life bracelet.  (He put a glow stick around my wrist)
Katie: Thanks!  I didn't need to go to the park to find cute boys.

Mom: Fireflies are good bugs.
Grandma: They're even better rings!
(She killed a lightning bug and stuck it's butt on her ring finger... she then said it was even prettier than the diamond Grandpa bought for her).

Godspeed and Good Luck

"One Sunday afternoon in June, you'll walk across a stage and I'll hand you a diploma" the headmaster of our school told us for years.  For me, that one Sunday afternoon in June came three years ago.  For Laura, it was yesterday.

At my graduation, tears welled up in my eyes but not until I sat down, diploma in hand.  I kept a smile, and they never leaked out, but my family in the front row knew exactly what was happening.

For Laura's graduation, the tears appeared as soon as I walked into the gym where I recognized the set and the colored lines on the floor underneath it all.  Again, I kept a smile and the water in my eyes but it was like someone hit me upside the head with emotion all of the sudden.

We took our seats in the back row and I fought to regain my composure.  Before this one, every graduation we have purchased front row tickets at an auction.  This year, my parents were competing with the wealthiest family in our town.  She owns a company that probably affects your everyday life.  He owns a professional sports team.  There was no possible way Dad was winning those tickets.  Instead, we took our seats in the back.  At first we were worried about photos, but then I pointed to the end of our row: Uncle Greg.  Tucked safely under his arm was the expensive camera of this professional photographer.  We'd have photos from Laura's one Sunday afternoon in June, that's for sure.

The ceremony began with the graduates lining the aisle to applaud the faculty as they progressed into the seats that faced the audience.  The graduates double back and sit in front of the faculty.  At the end of the ceremony, the faculty progress out first, lining the aisle to applaud the newest batch of alumni.  It's a special moment and a powerful tradition.

A more powerful moment and special tradition is that parents who are on the board or staff of the school are given the opportunity to call their graduate's name.  For Laura and I, this meant we received our high school diplomas directly from the hand of our father.  For Dad, this means he writes our names on his hand, so he doesn't forget what he's going to say (and then hopes he doesn't sweat it off).  A friend's father took a photo of me hugging my father on the stage.  It's a photo I cherish.  I tried to do the same for Laura and was successful, but it's less than perfect quality.

An equally important photo to me is one of me in my robe with all four of my grandparents standing beside me.  Sure, Boppy's sticking out his tongue (he refuses smile for photos, isn't that right, Boppy?), and Grandma's looking the wrong direction.  But it's still the five of us, healthy and happy.  Even though it's been three years since that one Sunday afternoon in June, that's still my desktop photo on my computer.  I was too busy talking to Brian (my favorite advisor) to know if Laura got that same photo, but even if she didn't: we're still some of the lucky ones.  Lucky enough to have our parents still married.  Lucky enough to have four living grandparents.  Lucky enough to have our aunts, uncles, and cousins take time out of their busy schedules to sit through a two-hour graduation ceremony celebrating our achievement.  Lucky and blessed beyond belief.

As I looked around at the rest of Laura's graduating class, I realized not everyone was so lucky.  Some of them come from broken homes, incomplete homes.  One of her classmates lost an older brother a few years ago.  Two classmates who graduated from a different school, lost their older brother.  The class as a whole hasn't been so lucky either.  In eight grade, they lost one of their own to leukemia.  Two years ago, a classmate committed suicide. 

For some, one Sunday afternoon in June is a day that never comes.  For some, it is an end, a goal achieved. For some, it is expected.  Either way, it is a milestone and everyone who meets it deserves a pat on the back.  A sad ending to the book of high school but a great beginning of the future.  For Laura and I, that has meant a move to a small, out-of-state college.  For others, it means something else.  It is s time to be celebrated (but tears are expected).  Godspeed and good luck.

Well done, graduates!
<>< Katie

PS: I kind of rambled today... sorry.  Thanks for reading!

Dreamer

My sister sent me a message that said, "Look, it's you!" Along with the link to an article about a man who screams bizarre statements while sleeping.

Yes, I do talk in my sleep. However, unlike the man in the article, I don't have a wife (or husband or roommate) to write down my weird night-time quotes. While I do record the dreams I remember in the morning, I will not be putting a tape recorder in my bedroom at night. Instead, I'll be forever doomed to remember my classic line, "NO, DADDY, I DON'T WANNA WEAR THOSE PANTS!"

I've got a wide variety of dreams. Some of them very creative like the dream about turning into a shoe (that's going to become a short story for class). Sometimes they make me nervous. The dream about taking a long fall off of a pier and into a field of cat tails made me nervous because I sleep on the top bunk... But I was relieved to wake up still in bed! I have learned that if I'm having a nightmare/ super weird dream, I'm probably cold. Well, I'm almost always cold no matter how many layers I wear and our air conditioned apartment isn't helping. Thus, I've had a lot of weird dreams lately.

I firmly believe God still speaks through dreams and the other night he caught my attention again.

The other night I had this dream where my "uncle" had gone blind. At first we were all fed up with his new loss of sight because he was running everywhere without a real care. However, eventually we accepted it.

When I woke up, I thought some more about it. Just because he lost his sight doesn't mean he was living his life in fear. If I lost my sight, I'd be scared to move, but he was flying everywhere, not afraid to fall. Without sight, he had no fear.

Without sight of Gods' plans, do you have fear? Are you willing to fall? Are you willing to fail? Are you willing to be lifted up again?

"For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control."
2 Timothy 5:7 (emphasis mine)

<>< Katie

Persistence Pays Off

There almost was no blog today because I've been entertaining all day. The only time I've had to be alone is when I've snuck in to the den to play Bejeweled Blitz (Yes, I am addicted to that facebook game). That is... until everyone was fixing to leave and we had a very important moment.

Every time we say goodbye in my family we always end up wrestling. Yes, there are a few reminders of our latest line, "No time for the ER on Christmas." It's not Christmas anymore, folks. Punching, hitting, flicking, and karate chopping is all legal. Right after we hug, I become the recipient of one of these things from my uncle. The problem is that he forgets I'm a girl and hits just a little too hard. I cry, he tells me I need to work on my speed, I grab his hat and disappear until I'm ready to forgive him. Anywhere from 30 seconds to five minutes later (yes, this is all while we've got coats on and are saying goodbyes) I come back and return the hat; he hugs me again (without hurting me). I've gotten a lot of self-defense lessons while fighting back tears. This has been happening for years; it's normal.

Today when we hugged he was holding a few boxes for Ziploc bags. After the hug, he picked up one of the boxes and went to hit me on the shoulder. With my left hand I grabbed the box and with my right hand I stole his hat. We stood there staring at each other both in shock.

I did it! I finally did it! I don't have any idea how it happened but the persistence paid off! Yes, I'm going to toot my own horn with this blog, but you have no idea how big of a deal this is! For my entire life I've been playfully beat up as part of "good-bye," and I finally was able to stand my ground!

<>< Katie