I left AR. Well, actually, I was bribed into going to TX. Yeah, I like chocolate covered cherries. And, I was promised a ticket to the Houston Rodeo Finals.
So we went to the rodeo. Our sole purpose was to find a Cowboy for Sierra and a Stud for Gracie, via our respective mother’s requests. We went through traffic at decent speeds though Sierra never saw the speedometer past 40. Grace decided that she needed a loud speaker for the top of her stupid car so that she could yell at the other drivers and tell them how to drive correctly. Sara sat in the back seat and held onto her coffin with a death grip. We passed a, what appeared to be, one car wreck, however it needed about half a million tow trucks to tow it. We then payed 10 dollars parking, convinced the nice man that the mud caked car did not want a bath for 12 dollars, and then headed toward the rodeo. We forced Sierra to jay run across the rather busy intersection, safely, I might add, but I won't. Mostly, she screamed, she’s rather good at this occupation. We then continued sedately on to the rodeo venue. After passing a Toys-R-Us shopping cart we, collectively, I’m sure, decided that Gracie should push Sara at haphazard speeds to the rodeo. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the time.
We walked up to a gate labeled VIP, Very Idiotic Personages, and assumed that this was our gate. We were wrong. The nice lady directing person, directed us to the far side of the building. Apparently, we looked like we needed exercise. After taking a hike around the entire building we got directed by the nice man directing person, who pointed us in the direction of several flights of escalators, which in case you wanted to know, one should never run up. Don’t you know how many accidents this could cause? Sara was kind enough to find this information out for us.
After hiking to the very top of the building, going up the elevator, where Gracie gave a speech, and past the dragon lady, we arrived at our seats. Which were the seats located at the very top of the nose bleed section. Sara was excited about this occurrence because this meant she could stand on her seat without a person yelling, “Um, ma’am please sit down.” Instead she got a frown, a “Sit down, that’s not safe,” and a shaking finger. Sara and Sierra were determined that Gracie buy them blinky lights, and/or cotton candy. She did neither, and they unsystematicly disowned her. RUDE.
Then all three of us cheered and booed the contestants and picked out various studs and cowboys based on their winnings. Sara even decided she might need one, seeing as he made so much money. Sara left at one point, and her guy kissed someone, it remains a mystery as to who, we couldn’t see her very well, and Sara refrains from commenting. However, she has not come up exorbitantly richer yet. Which means, one, it wasn't her, or two, Gracie still has time to become her best friend and only beneficiary of her will.
The chuck wagons came out to race, and we were instructed to make friendly bets. As we always, without fail, do what we are told, Sara and Gracie bet their doritos against Sierra buying supper. Sierra won, not just once, but twice, in a row. TWICE. We, collectively, think she bribed the chuck wagon dudes, with her cute face and sweet talk. Then, we watched the mutton busting contest. We have no idea why people think merry-go-rounds are dangerous, then put their 5 year old kids on the back of sheep and hope they hold on. Either way, the winner was a little boy and they interviewed him afterwards. They asked him how he practiced to get so good and he replied, “Well...I’ve been doing it for...twenty-three...years.” Now we know.
Immediately after the rodeo was a Brad Paisley concert. Sara cannot sit down during a concert, so we all stood...and yelled...and sang loudly and off key...and clapped...and waved our hands in the air...and jumped up and down...and just mostly had fun. We are not sure what all the rest of the sedate people who just sat there and watched where thinking but it doesn’t matter. At the end, Sierra and Sara's voices were shot, so Gracie laughed and made fun of them. As time went on, though, their voices got better, but Gracie began to sound like a teenage boy.
About this time, we realized we were starved half to death because nothing at the rodeo cost less than highway robbery. Actually, Gracie realized she was starving halfway through the rodeo, but we refused to be robbed. Since we were going to spend the night with nice, hospitable friends of Sierra who had no idea what they were getting into, we decided to meet up with them and go find food. The meeting place was in front of the ferris wheel. We arrived there and found a mob of people, but no friends yet. While we sat there waiting, Gracie and Sara discussed the fact that they still had not found a stud for Gracie. And of course, they could not possibly disappoint Gracie’s mom. So, they started looking for a stud with the necessary requirements: tall enough, no girl, etc. Finally, they hit the jackpot when they found 4 dudes standing there, just chilling. So, since Gracie can somehow convince anyone to do anything, we walked up and she tapped the closest one and asked in her most manipulative (despite sounding like a teenage boy) voice, “Um, excuse me. Um, my mom wants a picture of me with a guy, and I was wondering if you would mind.” We do not know why she changed it from stud to guy, but either way, you would think from the dude’s expression that we had offered him a hundred bucks and a free trip to Vegas. We got the necessary picture and walked away celebrating our success, while the dudes celebrated...well, we’re not sure what.
We then met up with the afore mentioned friends, spent the night at their house, and traumatized them to appropriate measures. We then returned to Sierra’s, and had a rather normal birthday celebration. Sara and Gracie are officially bad for one another. Officially. If you would like to see the document, well, um, we probably got hungry and ate it.
With God life has no limits, because death has no victory.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Does this cooler make me look fat?
I must have a sign on my forehead that says "Random, stupid things: happen to me!".
Every Wednesday, Whitney & I drive about an hour north (less than an hour if I'm driving, I thought you should be aware of this), and spend a few days with her great-grandmother. It's quite nice, her granny lives in the country with a really cool barn, woods & pond. Anyhow, it's usually a pretty routine drive. But like I said...random stupid stuff happens. Mostly to me.
We went up in the van with enough gas to get us there & back to the gas station...under normal circumstances. We just didn't really count on the 9 vehicle pile-up, blocking the entire highway for...oh...about 2 1/2 hrs. I guess that's what happens when a log truck hits a coke truck, which hits a school bus, which has the domino effect on 6 other cars. Anyways, we were stuck in a very long line of cars. However...there were enough cars leaving the line ahead of us to keep us slowly creeping forward, therefore deceiving us into thinking that we could actually get somewhere. So...there we sat, talking about other options (there really weren't any), discussing the accident every time we were passed by a wrecker or an ambulance running hot, and celebrating each new small change of scenery. I was getting bored, so I rolled down my window & began hollering, "Help! I'm going into labor!". Sadly, nobody showed up to help & Whitney was ready to shoot me. Thank goodness she didn't have a gun.
We turned off the van to conserve gas, only turning it on to move forward when we had to, but the needle was getting lower. After a couple hours, we had maybe gone a half-mile, it was dark, we were barely moving at all anymore & the van was on empty. Great. Thank you for noticing the sign on my head!
We were in a narrow section of road, so if the traffic would have started moving and we run completely out of gas, we could not have pulled over. I was thoroughly bored & volunteered to go find gas. Whitney went van trunk diving & came back with the only thing we had to put gas in: 5 little plastic water bottles, and a handy little cooler to carry them in. So, off I marched... into the night... past lots of cars...wait....I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY! Ahh! So I ran back, past all the cars...with my cooler, got money, and marched off again. At least I provided entertainment for all the bored people. I should have charged admission.
Somewhere down the road, I got to a gas station. It was between a McDonalds and Taco Bell & across the road from Subway, and I was desperately wishing I had extra money to buy food & resell to the bored people. Ya know, so they could have dinner with their show.
Anyways, I walked into the station, showed the cashier lady my cooler, handed her some money & asked if I could fill up my little water bottles. She said, "Sure. Which pump are you at?" Apparently, she didn't hear a word I just said.
"I'm not at a pump. I want to fill up my water bottles in my cooler thingy!"
"Oh. I see. Sure."
It was then that I looked at the cooler for the first time in the light. What? It HAD to be PINK? Seriously?
Determined not to be embarrassed, I took my cooler out & started to pump gas, all the while trying not to think about how totally ridiculous I must have looked. By the way people, it does not matter how little you pull the lever, the gas is designed to come out at a speed NOT conducive to filling a water bottle. It seemed much more intent on spraying me in the face. And gas does not make a good face wash. At some point while trying to get more gas in the bottles than on me, I noticed a little audience forming. Apparently a bunch of older guys with nothing to do decided that I was fun to watch. I should have charged them too. They started asking questions like, "Did you run out of gas?"
"No, my car only accepts gas from a pink cooler."
About the time I had them all filled, one guy tried to be helpful, "I have a gas can with gas in it." How helpful. Another older guy actually was helpful, offering me a ride back to the van. I accepted. I put my awesome pink cooler in the back of his truck & climbed in. As we drove past the line of cars, I was picturing myself trying to sell them McDonalds cheeseburgers while being coated in a thin layer of gas. Yeah, I could see that one working out real well.
Suddenly, Mr. Nice Guy's cell phone rang. *In southern accent:* "Hello! Yeah, I'm headin' south. I got me a girl!" Yep, girls, the quickest way to get picked up by an old guy at a gas station is to show up with a pink cooler. I'm sure that is exactly what you all want.
Either way, after being dropped off at the van, I realized I had a new problem. Positive thoughts do not make water bottles fit in gas tank openings on vehicles. Of course. Nothing can ever be that easy. I ended up constructing a make-shift funnel out of another water bottle that had originally been rejected because it was too mangled. So there I stood, pouring the bottles of gas into the van as Whitney handed them to me & tried to become skinny enough to not get hit by cars going the other direction. My efforts were not in vain, because not only did I keep from becoming road pizza, but I got the gas in the tank & the needle budged to just-above-E. It wasn't too much longer before the road was cleared & we were on our merry way to Granny's.
I'm pretty sure I'm still high on gas fumes.
SQUIRREL!..........
Every Wednesday, Whitney & I drive about an hour north (less than an hour if I'm driving, I thought you should be aware of this), and spend a few days with her great-grandmother. It's quite nice, her granny lives in the country with a really cool barn, woods & pond. Anyhow, it's usually a pretty routine drive. But like I said...random stupid stuff happens. Mostly to me.
We went up in the van with enough gas to get us there & back to the gas station...under normal circumstances. We just didn't really count on the 9 vehicle pile-up, blocking the entire highway for...oh...about 2 1/2 hrs. I guess that's what happens when a log truck hits a coke truck, which hits a school bus, which has the domino effect on 6 other cars. Anyways, we were stuck in a very long line of cars. However...there were enough cars leaving the line ahead of us to keep us slowly creeping forward, therefore deceiving us into thinking that we could actually get somewhere. So...there we sat, talking about other options (there really weren't any), discussing the accident every time we were passed by a wrecker or an ambulance running hot, and celebrating each new small change of scenery. I was getting bored, so I rolled down my window & began hollering, "Help! I'm going into labor!". Sadly, nobody showed up to help & Whitney was ready to shoot me. Thank goodness she didn't have a gun.
We turned off the van to conserve gas, only turning it on to move forward when we had to, but the needle was getting lower. After a couple hours, we had maybe gone a half-mile, it was dark, we were barely moving at all anymore & the van was on empty. Great. Thank you for noticing the sign on my head!
We were in a narrow section of road, so if the traffic would have started moving and we run completely out of gas, we could not have pulled over. I was thoroughly bored & volunteered to go find gas. Whitney went van trunk diving & came back with the only thing we had to put gas in: 5 little plastic water bottles, and a handy little cooler to carry them in. So, off I marched... into the night... past lots of cars...wait....I DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY! Ahh! So I ran back, past all the cars...with my cooler, got money, and marched off again. At least I provided entertainment for all the bored people. I should have charged admission.
Somewhere down the road, I got to a gas station. It was between a McDonalds and Taco Bell & across the road from Subway, and I was desperately wishing I had extra money to buy food & resell to the bored people. Ya know, so they could have dinner with their show.
Anyways, I walked into the station, showed the cashier lady my cooler, handed her some money & asked if I could fill up my little water bottles. She said, "Sure. Which pump are you at?" Apparently, she didn't hear a word I just said.
"I'm not at a pump. I want to fill up my water bottles in my cooler thingy!"
"Oh. I see. Sure."
It was then that I looked at the cooler for the first time in the light. What? It HAD to be PINK? Seriously?
Determined not to be embarrassed, I took my cooler out & started to pump gas, all the while trying not to think about how totally ridiculous I must have looked. By the way people, it does not matter how little you pull the lever, the gas is designed to come out at a speed NOT conducive to filling a water bottle. It seemed much more intent on spraying me in the face. And gas does not make a good face wash. At some point while trying to get more gas in the bottles than on me, I noticed a little audience forming. Apparently a bunch of older guys with nothing to do decided that I was fun to watch. I should have charged them too. They started asking questions like, "Did you run out of gas?"
"No, my car only accepts gas from a pink cooler."
About the time I had them all filled, one guy tried to be helpful, "I have a gas can with gas in it." How helpful. Another older guy actually was helpful, offering me a ride back to the van. I accepted. I put my awesome pink cooler in the back of his truck & climbed in. As we drove past the line of cars, I was picturing myself trying to sell them McDonalds cheeseburgers while being coated in a thin layer of gas. Yeah, I could see that one working out real well.
Suddenly, Mr. Nice Guy's cell phone rang. *In southern accent:* "Hello! Yeah, I'm headin' south. I got me a girl!" Yep, girls, the quickest way to get picked up by an old guy at a gas station is to show up with a pink cooler. I'm sure that is exactly what you all want.
Either way, after being dropped off at the van, I realized I had a new problem. Positive thoughts do not make water bottles fit in gas tank openings on vehicles. Of course. Nothing can ever be that easy. I ended up constructing a make-shift funnel out of another water bottle that had originally been rejected because it was too mangled. So there I stood, pouring the bottles of gas into the van as Whitney handed them to me & tried to become skinny enough to not get hit by cars going the other direction. My efforts were not in vain, because not only did I keep from becoming road pizza, but I got the gas in the tank & the needle budged to just-above-E. It wasn't too much longer before the road was cleared & we were on our merry way to Granny's.
I'm pretty sure I'm still high on gas fumes.
SQUIRREL!..........
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Cheerios and Anacondas
These are the accounts of Sara's adventures with The Girls:
The day to day activities begin with waking up (usually). Then Whitney and Sara have a grueling warm up by climbing out of bed. After they have done this, they do random lil odd jobs around the world. Sara prefers making a quick stop by Brazil to fight off various jungle life such as anaconda etc. Then she goes to work out during breakfast by crushing cheerios with her teeth (this usually burns more calories then she gets from the cheerios themselves.) Then she is ready to have some fun. So Sara along with a few girls go exploring. First, they hike up Mt. Watertower to look over the United States. Then the exploring begins. They hike down the south side where only authorized personnel are allowed ( they are not recognized by the Government as any thing more than Ninjas, when in reality they are wander beings.) There recent activities have involved investigating if someone of who's name I can not mention is taking over the US by brain washing kid's minds in the public schools. So since they are/were home schooled they have a much clearer view on things. They're still investigating. In the mean time, Sara can not wait 'til her 21st B-day for obvious reasons, and one of the girls has invited her to go have some Martinis the night of her birthday. Sara is also having to deal with a stalker who is always watching her. She is not sure yet if this has anything to do with her car problems. She has also recently had to fight off a hobo who had a machine gun but this was no problem for her. All that was necessary for her to do was to simply turn sideways. After that she was as good as invisible. Then she walked away, picked up a jaw bone, and hit him over the head. Well, that concludes her adventures for this week. Fin
Written by. Kaity Lynn
[99% of these stories are true as far as I can remember.]
The day to day activities begin with waking up (usually). Then Whitney and Sara have a grueling warm up by climbing out of bed. After they have done this, they do random lil odd jobs around the world. Sara prefers making a quick stop by Brazil to fight off various jungle life such as anaconda etc. Then she goes to work out during breakfast by crushing cheerios with her teeth (this usually burns more calories then she gets from the cheerios themselves.) Then she is ready to have some fun. So Sara along with a few girls go exploring. First, they hike up Mt. Watertower to look over the United States. Then the exploring begins. They hike down the south side where only authorized personnel are allowed ( they are not recognized by the Government as any thing more than Ninjas, when in reality they are wander beings.) There recent activities have involved investigating if someone of who's name I can not mention is taking over the US by brain washing kid's minds in the public schools. So since they are/were home schooled they have a much clearer view on things. They're still investigating. In the mean time, Sara can not wait 'til her 21st B-day for obvious reasons, and one of the girls has invited her to go have some Martinis the night of her birthday. Sara is also having to deal with a stalker who is always watching her. She is not sure yet if this has anything to do with her car problems. She has also recently had to fight off a hobo who had a machine gun but this was no problem for her. All that was necessary for her to do was to simply turn sideways. After that she was as good as invisible. Then she walked away, picked up a jaw bone, and hit him over the head. Well, that concludes her adventures for this week. Fin
Written by. Kaity Lynn
[99% of these stories are true as far as I can remember.]
Monday, March 14, 2011
Wuv...twue wuv...that dweam within a dweam.
I am sick and tired of hearing about love. Actually, I am sick and tired of the misuse & abuse of the word. Everywhere I look, I see "love". Movies, music, everyday drama.
My little sister got me into pop music. Yes, I just admitted to being corrupted by my younger sister. Either way, when I starting listening to popular music, I realized that I was tapping into the very pulse of our society. And here is what our society thinks about love:
"Just leave with me now, say the word & we'll go...you'll see a side of love you've never known..." -In My Head, Jason Derulo
"Well, maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts..." - Only Exception, Paramore
"Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love..." -Teenage Dream, Katy Perry
"Love don't live here anymore" -Love Don't Live Here, Lady Antebellum
"...Don't even know what we're fighting for, why does love always feel like a battlefield..." -Battlefield, Jordan Sparks
People everywhere are talking about "love", dreaming about it, looking for it, and in many cases have been hurt by it. What in the world? Does anyone even know what love means?
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." Yep. That folks, is love. That is REAL love. It's not a warm, fuzzy feeling. It's not dependent on the person loving back. It is sacrifice. It is work. It is giving. Giving of your life to someone else.
Hurt by love? I don't think so.
Love is a mother playing with her kids when she has a pile of laundry she would rather be doing. Love is a dad quitting a good paying job with full benefits and starting his own business so he can be with his kids. Love is a girl dressing modestly to protect the mind of a guy. Love is a guy protecting the emotions of his girlfriend. Love is a person giving of what they have to help someone in need.
Love is the Creator of the universe becoming man & going to hell for the sins of all mankind. Love can essentially be measured by the amount of personal sacrifice on the part of the giver & the amount of fulfilled need on the part of the one being loved. There is no greater sacrifice than the life & death of Jesus. We have no greater need than our eternal salvation. So...the greatest sacrifice being made to fulfill our greatest need is the ultimate example of the greatest, truest, most amazing love...EVER. And only after an encounter with the greatest act of true love can we learn this love & act it in our lives.
"I love you." Really?
Satan can not change that act of love. It was so powerful, so amazing, so beautiful. He cannot diminish it or make it disappear. So, I guess I should not be surprised that he has done everything in his power to distort, twist & change the meaning of the word. After all, he knows the innate desire for love is built into us, and he knows that God is love, and to find it we must find God. And that has got to rub him the wrong way.
My little sister got me into pop music. Yes, I just admitted to being corrupted by my younger sister. Either way, when I starting listening to popular music, I realized that I was tapping into the very pulse of our society. And here is what our society thinks about love:
"Just leave with me now, say the word & we'll go...you'll see a side of love you've never known..." -In My Head, Jason Derulo
"Well, maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts..." - Only Exception, Paramore
"Let's go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love..." -Teenage Dream, Katy Perry
"Love don't live here anymore" -Love Don't Live Here, Lady Antebellum
"...Don't even know what we're fighting for, why does love always feel like a battlefield..." -Battlefield, Jordan Sparks
People everywhere are talking about "love", dreaming about it, looking for it, and in many cases have been hurt by it. What in the world? Does anyone even know what love means?
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." Yep. That folks, is love. That is REAL love. It's not a warm, fuzzy feeling. It's not dependent on the person loving back. It is sacrifice. It is work. It is giving. Giving of your life to someone else.
Hurt by love? I don't think so.
Love is a mother playing with her kids when she has a pile of laundry she would rather be doing. Love is a dad quitting a good paying job with full benefits and starting his own business so he can be with his kids. Love is a girl dressing modestly to protect the mind of a guy. Love is a guy protecting the emotions of his girlfriend. Love is a person giving of what they have to help someone in need.
Love is the Creator of the universe becoming man & going to hell for the sins of all mankind. Love can essentially be measured by the amount of personal sacrifice on the part of the giver & the amount of fulfilled need on the part of the one being loved. There is no greater sacrifice than the life & death of Jesus. We have no greater need than our eternal salvation. So...the greatest sacrifice being made to fulfill our greatest need is the ultimate example of the greatest, truest, most amazing love...EVER. And only after an encounter with the greatest act of true love can we learn this love & act it in our lives.
"I love you." Really?
Satan can not change that act of love. It was so powerful, so amazing, so beautiful. He cannot diminish it or make it disappear. So, I guess I should not be surprised that he has done everything in his power to distort, twist & change the meaning of the word. After all, he knows the innate desire for love is built into us, and he knows that God is love, and to find it we must find God. And that has got to rub him the wrong way.
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