Living in the Dorms

When they said living in Cobblestone was just like living in the dorms, they were right. As I pulled into the parking lot after work last night at 11:30am, Rachel Dorman was just walking up to her door. Justin was running down the steps to his car. Mandy appeared out of nowhere and followed me into our own humble abode. I feel like this must be what it's like two miles down at the school every night.

I almost feel like a real college student.

Well, I was going through some pictures from summer camp to print off for an album and thought I'd put up some of the better ones.

Here they are!

If I could post a comment on Justin Paul Gibson's xanga site (which I cannot because I forgot my password) I would write this:

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

M&M Poker Night

Last night, Sonia, Aaron, Donald, Darrin, and I played Texas Hold 'em using m&ms as poker chips. It was great fun. We dumped out three bags-- one plain, one peanut, and one peanut butter, and divied up the candies by color. Then we had all the leftovers in the community bucket, where all night long we picked out the plain ones to trade for the peanut or peanut butter in our own piles. Let's just say by the end of it, we were all feeling kind of sick. Darrin opted out early, eating a handful of his pile and dumping the rest in the bucket. Aaron went all in on a crummy hand and lost to Sonia. So for the final showdown, Sonia, Donald, and I went all in and held our breaths as Aaron flipped over the five cards. My roomie ended up winning, and she gathered all the m&m's toward her in glee- it was a fun night. Sonia and I took pictures the entire time, to the mocking of Aaron and Donald, even though when we were at the beach earlier all I heard from Donald and Darrin was, "I wish I had a camera!" Donald defended himself with, "Yeah, but that was the ocean- this is m&m's!"

Dear Adelaide

It is very disconcerting not being able to post comments on your blog. So many times I have had some witty remark to one of your essays and have not had the oppurtunity for the world to hear it.
Well, tonight I just wanted to comment about "the neighbor boy." Sonia and I have been discussing the situation, and we wonder if "the neighbor boy" has anything to do with the lack of committment of returning to good ol' San Diego at the end of this semester? Just a thought.

P.S. ~ Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaassssseeee come back. Sometimes life gets boring here.

P.P.S. ~ Your call on Saturday morning started a chain of other early morning phone calls. I think between the two of us we had five calls after your beginning 7 a.m. wake-up.

P.P.P.S ~ I loved that blog entry. It brought back memories of camp. Ah, camp.

P.P.P.P.S. ~ Speaking of camp, here's a cute picture of us:

Starbucks experiences

I hate coffee. And tea. And anything that has to do with or tastes like coffee or tea.

In high school, Justin Aubrey and I unofficially started the "I Hate Coffee Club." The mere taste of the stuff fills us with horror.

Over the years, many friends have forced sips of their favorite beverages down our throats. And all have been turned away with a look of disgust and a vow to never try that again.

Jesse and Justin Gibson once took me to Starbucks for the sole purpose of finding a drink I would like. I already knew which one Starbucks drink I like-- that slushie lemonade tasting thing (official name of aforementioned drink changes depending on what Starbucks you're at). But they insisted on finding a hot drink for me. They even got the guy behind the counter in on their little mission and the three of them made me try some vanilla milk thing and some mint tasting beverage. They weren't terrible, but I wouldn't fork over three bucks for them either. Plus, all that milk just gave me a stomachache.

Well, all this is to say that last night, Saturday, the 12 of November 2005, at the boy's intramural football championship game, Tim Askew offered me a sip of his peppermint white mocha... and I liked it.

I now have something on which to spend the nine or ten Starbucks cards I've collected over the last few years.







Here is a picture of me during my first Starbucks experience.

Battle Wounds and Broomball

The greatest battle wound I ever got came from a snowboarding trip. A friend gave up trying to teach me how to stay on the board and told me slide down the hill using the board as a sled, while he stayed close enought to keep me from killing myself. Well, as boys do, he tried to show off a little and strayed a bit too far on a hill that was just a little too steep. My board flipped around and I careened over the side of the hill, heading, thankfully not over the side of a ravigne, but just over a slight drop and then full speed for a water tank off to the side. My friend of course only saw me disappear over the side and he freaked out not knowing where I would end up. Fortunately, my board came to a stop before I hit the water tank (or I would have ended up with much worse battle wounds), and I lay there in the snow by my board, which I had slid off about halfway down my little short cut. Later on, someone noticed the tip of a dark bruise on my side and I discovered a big purple bruise about the size of a tennis ball on my left hip, apparently from hitting something big during my slide. It was my most glorious battle wound ever.

Those glory days came back to me last night as I sat in front of my computer holding a bag of ice to my eye. A game of broomball had gotten a little out of hand and I got the ball kicked right at my face. Don't worry-- after the initial worries of concussion and blurred vision I was fine. But now I have what could be considered my first black eye-- even if the bruised part is just enough in the crease of my eyelid that no one can really tell. But it's there all right.

The glory days are back....

I was pretty proud of the fact that I had "corrupted" my roommates by getting them hooked on the TV show Friends, of which I have seasons 7,8,9, and now 5 in my possession. Tonight Sonia walks in our room and informs me that our neighbors, whom had asked to borrow season 9, were at that moment watching Friends in their apartment, and she knew this because she heard the theme song playing as she walked by. Yes. I have corrupted not just Apartment 11... but the entire community.

Reflections

I played kickback with Josh Masopust in the gym tonight. It felt so good to kick the soccer ball around again and I was suddenly filled with regret that I never played during college, not even one year. I could have been on the team freshman year, but I chose to focus on work and school instead-- I just didn't have time.

I wish I had made time. But then I think about how different my life would have been. Spending most of my time at practice and games, travelling, making close friends with the other girls-- my life would be completely different right now, my senior year. Who knows what would have happened had I just made a different choice on one simple decision.

This got me really thinking about my choices. How often do I miss out on things because of choices? Not that I necessarily make wrong choices, but that if another good choice could have led me down a path that could open up doors to other things-- and I missed it because I chose something else.

Then I think, "Well, God's got everything worked out." But how often does He let us mess up our own lives? This is something I really struggle with. At camp, they tell us God is in absolute control of everything and that anything that happens was specifically chosen by God to happen. I wrestle with that a lot, because I don't understand that God would create us with the ultimate plan for us to fail. It doesn't make sense to me. I do believe that he controls things when He wants to. He hardened Pharoah's heart, and didn't let the Israelites leave Egypt right away. Why? To test them? To strengthen them? If God had left Pharoah to make the choice, would he have just let them go? To what extent does God harden my heart to things or people?

Sometimes these things are so confusing....

Adventures with my Roomie... Vol. II

Well, this was meant to be written Monday night, but I just did not get around to it.

I don't know how it happened exactly. I think I was sitting in bed reading or something, when my roomie comes in and says, "Hey, dude, I think I found a stand for the TV." Interest piqued, I set down my book to hear more. "Yeah, I just found it," she says. "It's over by the dumpster. Come with me right now."

So we make a ten at night visit to the dumpster. And not the dumpster on our side, mind you. The one on the other side. And we had to be sneaky and go the long way around, "so nobody will see us," according to my roomie. Cause, you know, when I see two people walking to the dumpster at ten at night, my first thought is, "They're obviously up to no good."

So we get to the dumpster (all sneaky like, looking over our shoulders and stuff), and there it is, this glorious cabinet that could easily hold that monstrous TV. It doesn't even look bad. It's just wedged in between the dumpster and the cement wall. So we're thinking, heck yes, we have a TV stand now! Sonia starts to pull the thing out... and the top snaps off.

Oh, well. We figure, that's easily fixed, as we tug it out some more. Then one of the sides collapses.

We trudged back to Apartment 11 a little disappointed, but in good spirits due to the adventurous bonding time we had. (And on the way back, we passed the pool and some guys in the jacuzzi whistled at us... we just laughed... and took another route back home.)

Vicarious Blogging, part II

Sonia says she does not endorse vicarious blogging. According to her, she was only suggesting that would make a good blog, not giving legal permission for me to actually do it. She just wanted everyone to know that... ; )

Vicarious Blogging

Sonia wanted to blog this, but as she has gone on a blogging fast this week, I feel it necessary to take it upon myself to do the deed for her. As Mandy put it, "Sonia, it's cheating to vicariously blog through your roommate!" But, oh well.

Here's what Sonia would have blogged, had she been blogging this week:

"Only in Apartment 11 can you tell someone who is annoying you during homework time to go write a book."

Tonight I made something

As I cruised the streets of Target earlier today with my sister, I found the greatest little three drawer set-- all in the fabulous Target line of college dorm colors (pink, brown, steel blue, light green, etc.). I had to have it. Fortunately, as an employee of said store, I know how to work the system. I ended up walking away with the $40+ item for $19.98. The cashier (who looked new) was going to give me half off that price, too, but my morals kicked in at the last minute, and I walked away satisfied that I had a very cute pice of furniture.

I have never put together my own furniture before. Dan Blair put my bookcase together. Tyler and Jesse tackled my desk. So, hesitantly, as this was another first of being on my own-- first time trying to assemble furniture for myself-- I spilled all the contents of the box onto the floor and dug out the instructions.

One hour, twelve locking screws , and a couple lessons in trial and error later, I had my pink/brown/light green three drawer set against the wall with a matching pink/brown lamp sitting atop it.

I am woman, hear me roar.

Well, I'm back now. We just had roommate bonding time to an eighties era workout video. That's right, people, five days from now we will have abs of steel.

And now we're all macking down on anorexic popsicles.

Yup. Life is good.

Alliteration 101 with Daniel Duncan...

...who happens to have a very alliterative name himself. Today in PR writing class, we were instructed to band together for the common good and write a joint press release on good ol' San Diego. Not quite sure what to do, the seven of us (six girls and Daniel Duncan) assembled around a common table and tried to get creative.

Daniel, being the student body president type that he is, assumed charge quickly. His suggestion? S words (no giggles here, please) -- make our entire release as alliterative as possible. So S words were thrown out all over the place-- sun, surf, sandals, sky, sand, stores, surfers, snowboards, sneakers, sunsets-- anything and everything beginning with 's' (for those of you who still don't understand what alliteration is).

Daniel was clearly in his element here. As each new word was brought up, his eyes would light up as he frantically tried to scribble them all down.

When he wanted to contrast everything anti-San Diego with C words (for cold) we had to stop him.

Sadly, our S words will not make it to the finalized press release....

I love that my roommate likes country music, too.

"It is the romantic boys of this world who are the most dangerous..."

Thoughts from an Apartment 11 Saturday night roommate bonding time.

"You look back at a certain moment which changed everything. But moment is too long a word; was it a period of time at all? There came a thunderclap. But no, thunder may rumble for two or three seconds. This was a lightning-flash cleaving straight across the road on which you walked. You shut your eyes instinctively; when you opened them the road looked different. And it was different. Nothing will ever be again as it was before that lightning-flash. This, and this, and this you will never do again. And the road will grow duller and darker with every mile you go-- is that your thought?
A Voice speaks within you. "Things will never be as they were before? That is true; for they will be better. You will never do this and this again? That also is true; for I have other things for you to do. They are not what you would choose? But they are indeed the best that Love can choose for you. The road will grow duller and darker with every mile you go? The path is like a shining light; like the sun that you have watched on many a lovely morning coming out of his chambers and rejoicing as a strong man to run a race. Does the light on that shining race-course of the sky grow less and less? No, it shineth more and more. So shall the path of My beloved be, not darker, but brighter as it nears the perfect day. This is the heritage of the servants of teh Lord. This, not that."

------- Amy Carmichael in Gold By Moonlight

Boys, take note...

As I headed to Subway for my usual turky sandwich on wheat, a guy inside who was eating lunch with a friend saw me wakling across the parking lot and actually got up from his seat to open the door for me. I'm not talking he just happened to be already standing by the door-- he got up from the corner table just to open the door for a girl he didn't even know.
That's true manhood.

Hero of the Day

Things were looking quite dismal for awhile over here at Apartment 11. As Sonia and I both discovered on Saturday, the showers in this place are horrible. I'm talking worse than the wagon bathrooms for all you camp people out there. I'm talking you can't even feel the water on your head kind of bad water pressure. We were not digggin' it. We hated this shower so much that we actually did not take showers for the past couple of days, just because the thought of it made us bitter.
Speaking of bitter, enter Jig. Our most frequent visitor to Apartment 11 decided yesterday to take it upon himself to fix our shower. And fix it he did, people. We're talking close to tipi shower pressure here. It is amazing. Absolutely wonderful. He even put on a new shower head for us.
Thanks, Jig. You've made our daily hygeinic routines much more pleasant.

Adventures With My Roomie

So today I come home from lunch with friends to my ever-so tempting bed, exhausted from four nights of staying out past midnight, right off the last week at camp-- two of those nights being at camp. But anyway, I walk in to find the room I now share with Sonia in a shambles as she attempted to organize her stuff without any furniture to put anything into. She suggested an Ikea trip, and I jumped on board. Having never been to Ikea, I figured I would have to discover the joys of the world's largest furniture store sometime. We jumped in the car and headed west.
Now, for those of you who know me well, you know that me and going places I've never been before don't mix. Lucklly, Sonia knew exactly how to get there, and though we ended up in the mother of all traffic jams right outside the stadium, we made it to Ikea in one peace.
Now, the describing of Ikea is a completely different story, and as this blog is about only one specific adventure, I'll have to describe it some other time. We got back in the truck after loading up three boxes containing Sonia's new bed and head west once again, because Sonia says this is the way to the freeway.
Well, long story short, we ended up passing the 163, found ourselves on the backside of Fashion Valley Mall, drove past Sea World, and finally arrived at Mission Bay-- all in our attempt to arrive home in good ol' El Cajon. Fortunately, we were finally able to find the onramp for the 8 east and cruised home in style at a comfortable 70 miles an hour.
More adventures to come, I'm sure....

Yea, us!

Our apartment rocks.

And we're only paying 300 a month.

And we've got people from camp and CHC in the same complex.

And there are two bathrooms.

And there's tons of closet space.

And we're getting wireless internet connections.

And I got a great deal on a desk and bookcase, not to mention a free bed.

And Dan Blair built my bookcase for me today.

And Jesse bought me the pink and brown down blanket I wanted as a housewarming present.

God loves me so much ;)

Apartment Hunting

Today Sonia and I, along with Jig, set out to find our dream apartment. After an hour of frustrating internet searches, Jig finally dragged us away from CHC to get out and just find one. We were on the freeway for a total of about two minutes when suddenly everything came into place with an apartment Mandy Gervasi already had in her possession. So now Sonia and I will be sharing a master bedroom in the famous Cobblestone Park, home to CHC-ers and camp staff alike. It is amazing. Although I did remark to Jig somewhere along the journey, "I'm almost disappointed that the search is over before it has even begun."

Disneyland Pics

The words that make you a child again....


This lovely picture of Justin came about in line at Space Mountain. He didn't want to embrace the wonderfulness of wearing his complimentary 50th anniversary micky mouse ears, so in a ploy thought up by Justin #2 and, I believe, Michael and Jesse, we managed to get the ears on him, and take a picture. How was this accomplished? Well, it all went down in about three seconds when I handed him my backpack so I could lean down and "tie my shoe." With his hands now full, Justin #2 could place the ears on his head, Jesse took the picture, and the ears were gone by the time I stood back up. Sorry, Justin, it's not a very flattering picture. ;)



















Above: Mickey Mouse climbs the Matterhorn to plant the official 50th anniversary flag atop the mountain. After the corny dialogue that went on between him and Minnie (in which they did indeed kiss and profess undying love for one another), the announcer in true Disney fashion, encouraged us to encourage the mouse and began chanting "Go, Mickey, go!" All the little kids and parents around us joined in, and it was all oh so cute, I started the video camera. Then I focused the video camera in on the guys, who were chanting along with the beat: "Jump, Mickey, jump!"

Below left: a look down Main Street at the beginning of the day, with everyone wearing their Mickey ears

Below right: we break for lunch at the Corner Coke where we feasted on foot-long hot dogs that cost each of us our first and second born.... We had to leave Gwen there.

Hurray for Hollywood!

What a weekend we had! Mikey, Jessica, Jesse, Justin #2, Gwen, and Justin #1 (only on sunday) went and had our little mini vacation this weekend. It was crazy! Our first stop was downtown L.A., four minutes from the Magic Kingdom, to set up our little co-ed living quarters for the weekend (a tent). After some dinner and the first of many Target trips that weekend, we settled in for some sleep.

The next day took us to Hollywood, home of the stars and tourists. Pretty much, Hollywood is like a theme park you don't have to pay to get into. They've got people trying to sell you stuff, street performers, even people dressed up as different characters (I wanted to get a picture with Darth Vader and a storm trooper, but they were "asking" for "donations". We made the mistake of taking a picture of Gwen with Big Bird, and the bird wouldn't let us leave till she had some money). One guy on the street did spray paint paintings that were amazing, and Michael bought Gwen one for her room. The guy was really good, and cool, too. Then we went on to the Kodak theatre, where we spent a ton of time hanging out on the stairs where the gold carpet is laid out. The place was amazing, with pillars on both sides that each had five years written on them, as well as the film that won best picture that year. It goes allthe way up the stairs until about 2000, then goes back down the stairs on the opposite side of the pillars, all the way to the year 2070, I think. We each took pictures next to the movie signs that we felt best described us. Jessica and I took American Beauty. Jesse posed next to Rocky, Michael next to Rainman, Justin with Dances with Wolves (that one's for you, Britt), and Gwen took home Million Dollar Baby.
But the greatest thing about the Kodak theatre is that it's also a mall, and in this mall we found the greatest store ever: The LoveSac. They sell the hugest most expensive bean bag chairs, with a variety of coverings and sizes, and they allow you to come in and lounge around for as long as you like. We were weary after our day of traveling, and stayed in there a good half hour lounging on the chairs, taking pictures, and watching Napoleon Dynamite which they had conveniently playing. The store's main flyer reads as such: "Lovesac.com is not a dirty website" and all around the store are poster advertisements with equally witty sayings. I have to admit, that was my favorite place in Hollywood.

We saw tons of stars on the sidewalk (the ones actually on the sidewalk, not celebrities walking around), and then we went over to the place where they've all got their handprints and footprints and stuff. That was cool. We saw George Lucas's handprints, along with R2-D2 , C-3P0, and Darth Vader. And I discovered my name is out there, granted, it is for Gregory Peck, but I took a picture of it anyway. Justin #2 felt it was within his rights then to claim Mel Gibson as his namesake in the walk of fame and we got a picture with his, too.

After a little dinner at Johny Rocket's, a ritzy overpriced fifties diner, we trudged back to the car, more than willing to crash in our sleeping bags, since we had to wake up early for DISNEYLAND the next morning. When we were stopped at a light, I got my camera out to take a picture of a Hollywood street at dusk, and this guy who was crossing the street right then, full on stopped to pose! We all thought that was hysterical, and I was a little disappointed that the shot hadn't come out well. But Justin fixed that by rolling down the window and shouting,"Hey, it didn't come out-- come back here!" So the guy ran back out in front of us- in the middle of the street- and struck his pose again- while traffic was flowing around us. It was ridiculously funny.

That night, we didn't get to sleep until nearly midnight, with Gwen on her second wind, Jesse and Justin getting a little too friendly in their sleeping bags, and me suddenly overcome with a case of the giggles. But we finally forced ourselves to sleep, knowing we had a full day at DISNEYLAND the next day....

Me, Jesse, and Gwen-- the only ones who weren't babies about getting wet that day and wanted to go on the river rafting ride.

Ahhhh.... Jessica and Mikey on the Jungle Cruise.....

This is one of my favorite pictures. On our way to Subway for dinner, Gwen decided to latch onto Justin Aubrey's hand for the trip. She's not normally the type to just grab someone else's hand, so this was so adorable! I'm not sure how Justin felt about it, but you can draw your own conclusions by the way he's holding on to her hand....

Here we are in California Adventures against the backdrop of Hollywood. This was right after they made me go on the Tower of Terror and I tried to draw blood from Justin and Jesse's hands....

Brilliant.

This thing takes forever and a day. Therefore, I will only post one picture from this last week. This is one of my personal favorites, as it pictorializes Adelaide and Frijole showing off the epitome of their personalities: Frijole is crushing someone bigger than her, and Adelaide is laughing hysterically while trying not to pee her pants.

Testing, testing, one two three

Just checking to see if this new picture thingamajig works....

Seems too easy....

It's a hard job, but somebody's gotta do it

If one more person cracks a joke about me sitting at the pool for five hours of my day, I might kick them.

Seriously, people, you try to watch your blasted kids all day and not fall asleep!
(Thanks for the great word, Jenna-- blasted)

Note to Lotus: you're one of my favorite AGO guys now. That joke you cracked on Friday was awesome!
Note to Jig: I am determined to be your friend this summer despite your intense bitterness. And Dodge is the one who added up the points on Friday, not me, get over it, Eastwood beat you.
Note to Frijole: I miss you at the pool, dude. It was fun playing in the water with you while the kids ate lunch.
Note to Ping: I always thought you were the loyal one. My perceptions of the trustworthy AGO are beginning to change P.S. I already miss the Nicks
Note to Adelaide: Bring a CD player this week!!!! I'm going crazy!!!!

Note to Boston: I didn't have the kids tackle you five times in a row. I did the first one, and Sassy continued the other four. But in all fairness, he did it to protect my honor after you soaked me three times. I'm sorry, but you deserved it.

Note to Fess: I had four cards of a straight in my hand when you made us quit our texas hold 'em game at Friday lunch. The next card was the 6 I needed. That would have been my first straight....
Note to Hurricane: I've come up with a new nickname for him.

Now I know...

Now I know why the empire struck back. Now I know that the line "Luke, I am your father," is actually just, "I am your father." Now I know that Jabba the Hutt is a bad guy. Now I know that Harrison Ford played Han Solo. Now I know that Yoda can kick butt, even if his grammar is a little off. Now I know that the clones were cloned from the dad of the guy who imprisoned Han in carbonite. Now I know that the emperor started out as an advisor to the queen of Naboo. Now I know that Anakin turned to the dark side out of love. Now I know that Jedi mindtricks can only be used on the weakminded. Now I know that Princess Leia kissed her own brother on the lips (but it's okay, according to Justin Aubrey, because she didn't know he was her brother yet). Now I know that Darth Vader really is a softy, because he didn't kill Luke. Now I know that Luke lived with his uncle and Leia was adopted by a senator who was there at their birth. Now I know that Yoda and Obi-wan were the only Jedi who were not killed and the only ones who were around for about thirty years. Now I know that the Separatists were pawns. Now I know that the Jedi are not allowed to marry.

Thanks, Justin. I owe all I know about Star Wars, Episodes I-VI to you.

Today's thoughts

Guess what, guys?

Yesterday, when I was doing my laundry and searching through my "summer" clothes, I found sixteen Subway stamps in the pocket of my pants. Exactly enough for one more free foot long sandwich before Subway stamps are no more. I wanted to keep the cards and frame them or something (good times), but the Subway guy already thinks I'm weird enough, so I let him take them. I did tell him the story of the finding of said Subway stamps, though, and I got a smile out of him. (That's two now, in like a year). Today was a good day.


PS- at camp, when I have to remember what meds to give kids, i associate them with how they take their medicine (see xanga entry)-- ya know, peanut butter boy and yogurt girl. I wonder if I am known as the "wheat and turkey girl" at Subway....

Bible Study

Small group tonight was... a little different. Instead of the usual Nooma video and discussion led by our fearless leader Joshua Serrano (see link for more), Josh decided, after noting that much of the group was missing, that we would fellowship over a game of Texas Hold 'em instead. So we put our poker faces on and got to it, even though I had no idea how to play at first. They gave me a quick run-down, handed me some chips, and we were off. Surprisingly, I won a couple good hands, and Michael claimed that I made the best comeback in the history of poker. Yea, me.


To Josh: After you had left and Michael and I had ran out of chips, we started a side game of "pretend strip Blackjack."

(Anyone want to make up a way that going to small group can lead to strip poker-- like CHS's dancing leads to sex rule?)

Watch out, California: Sarah Dignal has returned.

Now I know...

Now I know why the empire struck back. Now I know that the line "Luke, I am your father," is actually just, "I am your father." Now I know that Jabba the Hutt is a bad guy. Now I know that Harrison Ford played Han Solo. Now I know that Yoda can kick butt, even if his grammar is a little off. Now I know that the clones were cloned from the dad of the guy who imprisoned Han in carbonite. Now I know that the emperor started out as an advisor to the queen of Naboo. Now I know that Anakin turned to the dark side out of love. Now I know that Jedi mindtricks can only be used on the weakminded. Now I know that Princess Leia kissed her own brother on the lips (but it's okay, according to Justin Aubrey, because she didn't know he was her brother yet). Now I know that Darth Vader really is a softy, because he didn't kill Luke. Now I know that Luke lived with his uncle and Leia was adopted by a senator who was there at their birth. Now I know that Yoda and Obi-wan were the only Jedi who were not killed and the only ones who were around for about thirty years. Now I know that the Separatists were pawns. Now I know that the Jedi are not allowed to marry.

Thanks, Justin. I owe all I know about Star Wars, Episodes I-VI to you.

We claim this structure for GSS...

In an ironic twist of events, it has just been announced that the Maha-rajah (spelling of said word not necessarily correct) has been taken from the camp mafia and redistributed to none other than the girl support staff. That's right, Godfather. That's right, High Priest. You can just move your stuff back to the guy's dorm.

Wyatt's got to be having a fit right now.

Sadly, the Maha-rajah is not equipped with bathroom facilities as our wonderful little hotel was, but at least it won't get chockingly hot at night in the spacious two-bedroom apartment we will soon find ourselves in. And it is very close to the teepee bathrooms, which are the cleanest and have the most water pressure. And more than one of us will get to take a shower before the water goes cold. That's definitely a plus- no more shower rotation! I'm thinking we should figure out some way to easily brush our teeth from this place for people like Sonia and I who have to brush our teeth a million times a day.

Let's also arm it with air soft guns in case they try to retake it. You just never know about this mafia.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha (evil laugh)!!!!!!!!!!

I'm FREE!

Free free free free free!!!!!!!!!!!

The evil tyranny of Dr. White and English Lit has ended!!!!!!!!!

Free free free free free!!!!!!!!!!!1

Bonding over painful experiences

I've made an interesting observation: I always feel closest to my fellow classmates at the end of every semester. There's just something about the last few weeks of school where we all pull together to make it through that last stretch. I find myself joking with people whose names I don't even know. I find myself walking down the hall talking with a guy named Danny who is in my nutrition class and I know nothing else about him except those two facts. I find myself in the library rushing around with seven other people in my class as we frantically type, print, and ask each other what order the pages in our project are supposed to go, and then rushing to class as a unified group to turn it in with just a minute to spare.
I'm going to miss these days.

Ethical thought of the day

I think I may be changing my stance on capital punishment. Blackburn is very persuasive.

But don't worry, Justins, I'm still with ya on war.


I think everyone should take a Christian ethics class. It totally stretches your mind with a million possibilities and then forces you to choose only one. But at the end of it, you feel like you really stand for something. And you know why.

Terrible terrible news

Oh, the horror!

Effective yesterday, April 18, Subway has discontinued use of subway stamps.




My world is falling apart.

The regular, please

On Wednesday I was dubbed "a regular" at Subway. I guess that makes sense considering when I show up now, the owner automatically pulls out a footlong wheat roll and starts piling it with turkey. Today I asked him if I was getting predictable, and he just kind of smirked over the pickle jar (this guy never smiles, so this was a minor accomplishment on my part).

While we're on the subject of being a regular, the guys at the 7-11 by my house know all the kids in my family by name. And they know what we'll buy when we go in. Ice, bread, milk, some combination of those three. Once when I went in there, the guy asked me, "No milk today?" and I said, "Oh, thanks! I totally forgot!" Now, when your local 7-11 employees know your shopping list better than you, that means you frequent that particular store a little too much. They know us so well, that they commented on my new wheels the day after I got my truck. And somehow they even recognize my mom even though she never goes there-- just sends us. Sadly, we do not know their names, as 7-11 employees do not wear name tags. We simply refer to them as "the one with glasses" and "the older one."

Rabbit, rabbit

On the first of every month my brother and sister and I make sure that the first words out of our mouths are "Rabbit Rabbit." No one knows why or when this started-- I think it was something we saw on TV. Anyway, saying this phrase before saying anything else will bring you good luck for the rest of the month- it's been proven.

So we all have an unspoken agreement. Whoever wakes up first and remembers, says it to themself, then goes to another sibling, covers their mouth so they can't say anything else, and as they wake up, tells them "Quick! Say rabbit, rabbit!" Normally, this kind of awakening would get a scathing look, and the look does always appear... until the one being woken up realizes it is for their own good they are getting such a rude awakening. This is such an important ritual that my sister will actually ask me to to wake her up early during her spring vacation so she doesn't miss it.

This morning I threw back the covers on my sister's bed with glee and clamped my hand over her mouth until she mumbled, "rabbit, rabbit."

I am such an awesome big sister.

How Many...

How many Target employees does it take to find a lost child?

About nine.

Today, we got a call on our walkie talkies that there was a "code yellow," which in the red language means "There's a parent up here freaking out cuz they can't find their kid." It means everyone needs to stop what they're doing and fan out, looking for the child described-- in this case, a black-haired boy wearing an Incredibles shirt. But before the search really got going, Karen called over that she'd found him. Disappointed, we all went back to work, only to hear a few seconds later, "I can't catch him! He keeps zig-zagging through the store!" This went on for a few minutes, with Karen continuously on his tail, only to be duped as he turned a corner. Finally, I headed over to where she was-- stationary-- to see if I could cut him off. What I found was a little Mexican boy who had been corralled against the stationary wall by eight people in red and khaki, including an LOD and two ATL's (higher-ups). This kid was too cute. It was obvious he didn't speak English, because no matter what anybody said to him, he just looked up at them with this adorable smile. Mark, who was up at the checklanes with the mother, kept calling for someone to bring him over, only to be answered each time with, "He won't budge." Finally, Mark came over himself. All he had to say was, "C'mon, you're mother's up front," and kind of nod his head toward the checklanes, and the kid followed right along, leaving the nine of us just standing there looking at each other, wondering what the heck had just happened. Then, feeling like complete failures when it came to kids, we walked back to our areas and resumed work.

What we have learned from this:

1) It takes six Target employees, two ATLs, and two LOD's to reunite a lost kid with his mother.

2) Little Mexican children will just smile and nod at you no matter what you're saying.

Oh, Hercules

Let me just say, that the guy who plays Hercules at California Adventures is hot. And buff. Alicia and I decided this unanimously. Jesse and Justin decided he was too "fake" looking and opted for Cinderella... yeah, like she's not hiding under ten pounds of make-up.... Our guy just had a wig on.

Why Being an English Major was a Bad Idea...

1) Two words: English Literature

2) One word: Literature

3) Who the heck cares, and how is it relevant to life that Tennyson is buried in Westminster Abbey (although I must admit I will never forget that minor fact that took my last test score below an eighty.)

4) I hate you, Samuel Taylor Coleridge

5) Although I agree with expanding our minds in the field of critical thinking, can we please "critically think" about something other than literature from the eighties? Eighteen eighties that is....

6) Dr. Sarnowski-- I believe in some cases of literature (let's take The Bible for one), it is extremely important to figure out what the author means... it is not right to merely internally analyze works based on what we think the text is saying. The text isn't saying anything-- it's all the person writing it!

7) Also, Dr. Sarnowski-- we can't read your handwriting when you mark up our papers. I have not read one note you've made on my novel papers all semester. Please write more legibly.

8) I'm getting a 98% in my Nutrition class!!! And I can't stand Science classes!!! What does that say about my English classes?!?! Huh!!??

9) Through the millions of works we've read so far, we have learned that one must be accepting of new styles of writing as they come along, and that there is no wrong way to write. So how does it make sense that our papers are marked down if they don't conform specifically to what our professors want? We are not clones of each other!!!

10) When I write a famous novel someday, I will include this postscript:

Dear Professor using this book in your class:

When I wrote this book, its intended purpose was for enjoyment only, not
as a tool for inflicting pain on others.
Please do not subject your students to over-analyzation of this book.
Take it from me,the author, that the theme, thesis, etc. in
this book are clear enough for a second
grader to understand, but if you need further reassurance of,
"what this book means" please refer to the jacket cover.
Thank you.

The Twelve Steps of Intimacy: As told by Adelaide and Demonstrated by Jig

Before anybody gets worried here, let me say that Jig demonstrated on another AGO guy... which might actually be more disturbing if you don't see it every day at camp and therefore are not already desensitized to it. Anyway, we had a great argument at the AGO house the other night, as well as last night on the way home from Alicia's, about these steps and the rearranging of them. All the guys voted that hand-to-head should be before face-to-face, and most guys felt that hand-to-hand was more intimate than hand-to-shoulder, contrary to what Dr. James Dobson himself believes. Although, it is kind of cute that the guys think that hand holding is better than the whole hand-around-the-shoulder thing. For those of you who don't know what the heck I'm talking about, feel free to find Dobson's book "Life on the Edge", because I don't remember all of the steps, but those that I do can be found here:

1) Eye to body
2) Eye to eye
3) Voice to voice
4) Hand to hand
5) Hand to shoulder
6) Hand to waist
7) Face to face
8) Hand to head
9) - 12) Those of which we do not speak of

I guess I do have all of them. Actually, Justin #1 just dictated them all to me. ;) Justin's apparently been studying them. As I speak, the guy's are trying to look up the "unmentionables" in Dobson's book... dirty boys....

We all know those girls that I am talking about
Well, they are time bombs, and they are ticking...

And the only question's when... they'll blow up....

And it just figures that we'll never figure them out...




I can't even figure myself out most of the time... how in the world is a boy supposed to?

Yesterday I wore shorts. It was wonderful.

Rubbing elbows with the rich and famous...

My friend Justin (#1) met the President on Sunday... The President.... Of the United States of America. In fact, he sat right in front of him at church, shook hands with him during the "say hi to someone" thing that most churches do, and then went up for communion alongside him.

And I am so not lying.

Our friend is interning in D.C. right now and got his family and Justin's hook ups to go to church with the Bush family while the Aubreys and Deylings were visiting. And Mr. and Mrs. President just happened to sit right behind them.

Wow....

Of course, this means we'll never hear the end of it. Jesse already figures that any fights to be had here on after will end with a Justin saying, "Oh, yeah? Well I met the President!"

Go big or go home

Tomorrow, mountain... you are mine....

Does anybody ever feel just disappointed with stuff? I've felt that way a lot lately. I don't know what it is.

Last night the CHCers went to play broomball... and I didn't go. I really wanted to, but for some reason I opted for staying at home with a can of vegetable beef soup and crunched numbers until midnight, trying to make my tuition next year workable. I really wanted to go- I love broomball.

For some reason, I felt left out. I don't know why. I have friends at school. But they all have better friends who live on campus. It's like a special bond everyone has that I always feel left out of.

Or maybe it's just me. I don't feel accepted very easily. I have a lot of friends, but the only ones I count on as my truest are those I can talk to easily, about my life, about their life; they're the ones I call on the weekends to hang out with because I know they will say yes and not have something better to do with other friends. Or if they do, they'll invite me along. Friends like the Justins, Jesse, Jessica, Mikey. David. Bev and Jarrod. Those are the people I am comfortable with. I don't have that friendship with anyone at school, but I've always tried, and I always end up feeling left out.

Maybe that's why I love camp so much. At camp, you're in, no matter what. Maybe the relationships don't run as deep, with everyone going their separate ways during the school year, but you know that when you come back... you're accepted. Nothing's changed, you might as well have picked right off from the August before. But then, sometimes at camp you do get some of those kind of close friends. Britney, Johannah, Troy. These are the people I can be myself around, and not worry if I'm fun enough, or cool enough. If what I have to say is worth saying.

I'm me, and they still want to be my friend. That's cool.

I jumped around a lot here. Really, I know I'm not supposed to judge my worth on what others think of me, it's just a bummer sometimes not being fully in a group that's so rad, just because I'm not there all the time. That's a major reason I wanted to live on campus, so I could be a part of it.

Oh well. I've got my best friends and they rock. ; )

Never has there been a song so true....

Rain, rain, go away...

This rain is killing me!!! We live in southern California people-- it should not be raining this much! Our parking lot at work-- the flattest surface you can imagine-- is even flooding. This is ridiculous.

In other news, a new blog has made its way to online journaling. This exciting new blog is run by J-Crew, which is the name Justins, Jesse, Jacquie and I gave ourselves a few years ago (you know, because our names all start with J....) when we were trying to think up a production name for a movie we had made. Anyway, the name stuck, and now we have made a blog specifically for the taunting of anything stupid, blonde, or just completely random that any one of us happens to say. So, if anybody wants to hear random thoughts on grilled cheese sandwiches, or how Justin #1 loses his purity every night (please read it before judging), or Jesse's thoughts on the moon, feel free to click the link to the right, called "JCrew". I think we're going to have some fun here....

Profiles...

Just so ya'll out there have some picture of who "The Justins", Jesse, Mikey and Jessica are, here's some recent pics and profiles. Comments on any of the above mentioned are welcome.

Justin Michael Aubrey

A.K.A-- "Aubs", "Aubrey", "Justin #1", "Hey you", "Heather's brother"

Ahh, Justin. This one I have known since we were eight. He used to get me in trouble in fifth grade when we sat next to each other (and he says I talk a lot...). Justin's one of those computer geeks who's not really a geek, because every once in a while we can get him outside in the sun. He's always up for "hanging out", usually because we invite ourselves over to his house! As our unofficial video tech, many late nights have been spent at his house making our own homemade movies. Though he appears reserved to most people, his close friends can see the resemblance between him and his siter, the infamously overly dramatic Heather Aubrey.

Interesting fact: ........

"The complex anomalies associated with the psychoanalysis of mitosing butterflies in Afghanistan compliment the rudimentary dialysis of the contradictory chaos theory."-- Justin Aubrey

Justin #1 

Justin Paul Gibson

A.K.A-- "Gibby", "Gibster", anything else that starts with "Gib-", "Justin #2"

Ah, where do I start with this one. If he looks scared in his picture, don't be fooled. He just refuses to take a normal picture. There are no pictures of him simply smiling. But oh well. Justin #2 is one of the twelve, and an original at that. Though he used to be shy, he is known for tormenting random strangers (like BJ's waitresses and girls at superbowl parties) but his somewhat sarcastic and confrontational attitude is completely in fun; if you do it back to him, you are an instant friend, and you will find that he is one himself.

"I'm better than you."-- Justin Gibson

Justin #2 

Jesse Schworm

A.K.A.-- "Jess", "Jester", "The Schworm", "The Male Blonde"

Jesse went to high school with us, but graduated a good two years before the twelve (he's soooo old!). Anyway, obviously the younger crowd was much cooler because he's hung out with us for the past couple of years. Often times he is my partner in the "I don't get it" phrase, and is usally made fun of when playing Scrabble at Jessica's house. He is also our Halo provider, as he is the only one who has an XBox and we have spent many hours shooting each other in his room.

Fun fact: Jesse had a cabbage patch doll when he was little...

Jesse... eating breakfast 

Jessica Sattler

A.K.A-- "Jess" by the rest of us, "Lubber" by Michael (I don't know why)

Michael Best

A.K.A.-- "Mikey" by all of us, "Lubber" by Jessica

I've known Mikey since ninth grade (he's one of the twelve), but none of us knew Jessica until they started dating awhile back. Now we hang out at Jess' apartment a lot, watching movies, playing Scrabble and Scene It, and eating "vats" of Top Ramen.

Jessica and Michael 

In regards to my previous post, "Snowboarding Rocks!", I finally have some time to expound. Sunday morning, at an ungodly hour, we met at Justin #1's house, piled our boards in the back of his mom's Montero, and with a quick stop at 7-11 to fill the cooler with ice, we were on our way up the stormy mountain known as Big Bear. The way up was foggy and rainy; it didn't look like it would be a very fun day for snowboarding.
Amazingly, about half way to the top of the mountain, the storm clouds were suddenly below us; lo and behold, the top of the mountain was beautiful. The sun was shining, it was nice and warm-- perfect for boarding.
And board we did. Justin #2 and I got installment #2 of Justin and Jesse's "Anyone Can Learn to Snowboard" lesson. The mission this time: learn toeside. I was determined. My previous trips have gone something like this: 1) when Tyler took me, I learned how to slide down the mountain while sitting on my board, 2) when Justin tried, I learned how to plow, 3) with Jesse, I learned how to plow at an angle and therefore get some speed. Obviously the time had come to learn how to really do this thing. So while I focused on learning toeside, Jesse and Justin #1 argued over what ways I should turn and whether or not I was goofy (footed, that is). After many confusing instructions (like "keep your toe!"-- what the heck does that mean?), Justin finally told me that when I turn to go toeside, I just have to turn back around to go on my heels. Genius! It worked, and the boys finally decided that simple really is better. From there I was on my way.

PS- Justin #2 learned how to go heel-side this time, so we're both sittin' pretty.
PPS- if you read Jesse's xanga, they did not ditch us-- we suggested the two of them go by themselves for awhile so they could go at their speed, without us slowing them down
PPS- Jesse's got pictures on his xanga- they're pretty good for being taken on the mountain
PPPS- Someday, Justin #1, I will race you down that hill and win....

While walking through the school parking lot...

"You're driving," said the fourteen-year-old.



My sister rocks.

Someday...

I want to walk and not run...
I want to skip and not fall...
I want to look at the horizon...
And not see a building standing tall...
I want to be the only one...
For miles and miles...

Except for maybe you, and you're simple smile...

It sounds good to me....

Snowboarding rocks!

I'm really tired right now, so I don't have time to expound on that. Maybe tomorrow, if I finish my essay on "A Christmas Carol". Night, ya'll.

Superbowl parties, Dirty feet, and Andrew "soon to be dead" Matthews

Well, yesterday was a great day, despite the fact that I have my first cold in a year and I can barely talk (although Justin #1 sees these recent developments as an improvement). We went to the Turietta's house yesterday for the Superbowl and had a great time... playing the commercial game, of course. Who cares about the superbowl? Most of us didn't even know who was playing until the game started. No, we were in it for the commercials. Some time back Heather Aubrey made up this game where whoever guesses what product the commercial is selling first gets a point, and the most points at the end of the game wins. Can I just say that junior high girls are really good at this game? Kylie and her friend were tied with 11 by the time I had two (thank you Batman Begins and Verizon). The whole group decided to cheer for the Eagles since they were the underdog, but Kylie and I held out until we saw who had the cuter uniforms. Fortunately, the Eagles were wearing teal, and of course teal beats out white, so the whole gang was cheering for Philadelphia. Sadly, the birds did not win, and the mean Patriots took home the rings for the second year in a row.



After the game, we played Knockout for like two hours. My flip flops were just not doing it for me however, and eventually I kicked them off and went barefoot. The Turietta's driveway may seem spotlessly clean but don't be fooled-- my feet were nasty dirty, as Jarrod pointed out to me later. Most of the kids pooped out after Knockout and went for a "hayride" in the back of Jacob's truck, but the Justins, Jarrod and I stuck it out for a game of twenty-one, where Justin # 2 dominated the whole game and Justin #1 took a nice jaw hit from Jarrod (serves him right for his comment earlier).



Jesse took us all back to the Aubrey's house where we had originally met. As I dug through my purse for my keys, I felt a foreign object and pulled it out, thinking it was a dead flower or something that the boys had put in there as a joke. I PULLED OUT A LIZARD. It was in my hand for like five seconds before I realized A) it was not a dead flower, and B) it was squirming. Eeeeewwwwwwwww. I threw it on the ground, threw my purse on the ground, and was pretty much jumping up and down in the middle of the street while freaking out. Of course, the Justins and Jesse had no idea what had just happened, causing them a slight panic at first, too, but then they just laughed when I told them, and Justin # 2 picked up the creature and held it in his hands before I finally noticed it was still near me. Then he hurled it through the air and into the neightbor's yard, much to my dismay (I didn't want him to kill it either). I absolutely refused to touch my purse after that until someone checked for more lizards, and after my warning that there were in fact some girl products in there, one brave soul took it upon himself to search for more creatures. Jesse, you're a hero. After that I wanted to know who the culprit was, and resolved to call that evil Brice Hoffman (pastor's son and my official tormenter throughout high school and now in kid's church leadership) and his sidekick Weston Stecklair (also a tormenter in kids church) and give them a pice of my mind. But-- remember the first sentence of this blog-- I couldn't talk, so Justin # 2 called Brice and left a message that started with, "Hi, Brice, there are three guys over at the Aubrey's who are going to kick your..." Jesse called Weston who answered, laughed when he heard what happened, did some digging, and found out it was... Andrew Matthews (see previous senior picture, he's the one with the white T-shirt). That boy is so lucky I won't be at college group or church this week. However, I do have three contacts who will be there, who have a lot of experience with air soft guns....

Help!

Anybody out there got an idea for a paper on romanticism in eighteenth century England? Anbody? CUZ I DON'T!

Kids say the darndest things

ALSO KNOWN AS: GWEN HAS AN EPIPHONE



This is the greatest story ever. So last night "the gang" was at Jessica's apartment watching a movie while Gwen played quietly in her room, watching Dora the Explorer and whatever else she does in there. We're nearing the end of "Joyride" when all of a sudden from Gwen's room comes the voice of a four-year-old who just made a miraculous discovery: "I'm a colored person!" All of us stare at each other in shock, as we all know that Gwen has no idea that the color of her skin is any different from any one else's. My immediate thought is, "What the heck is on that Dora video?!" Mikey's immediate reaction was, "WHO TAUGHT HER THAT?!", to which we all, of course, denied any knowledge of anyone ever saying that to her. A few of us start laughing just because it was so funny, and Gwen, realizing she had said something funny (but of course not understanding why) went on to repeat her statement a couple of times, giggling at herself. So Jessica gets up to go have a talk with her while the rest of us laugh a little more, and a few minutes later she comes back out, carrying Gwen, and trying not to laugh. Gwen is now decked out, not in her pajamas, but with different colored mittens and socks. "Look everyone," Jessica says, "Gwen's a colored person." Gwen erupts into giggles and the rest of us practically fell on the floor laughing. I was seriously crying, it was so hysterical! Gwen goes running back into her room, and Jessica follows. Mikey says, "Great, now she's going to go up to random people and think that's a joke that gets a good laugh!" to which we all busted up laughing again. Gwen runs out again, after her mother has expanded her vocabulary a little, and this time when Jesse asks, "Gwen, what are you?" he is answered with a four-year-old grin and "Colorful!"

Piercings and such...

Why is everyone so into getting something pierced all of the sudden? First, Bethany Saxman shows up last year with this tiny stud in her nose that she had to cover with a tiny band-aid when in class, until this year when CHC decided nose piercing was not in fact satanic (still working on the dancing thing though). I must admit, it does look cool. Now all of the sudden our dear Adelaide has gone and done the deed as well, influencing Peach to strongly consider it herself. At camp two summers ago, I discovered that two girls I had always considered non-piercing types (Mary Moss, Peach's sister, and Leah Larson, both CHC grads last year) had their belly buttons pierced! Ouch! How does one handle that kind of pain? My mom took me to get my ears pierced at age four. I do not fully remember this horrid experience, although I do see flashes of it in my mind sometimes, but according to my mom, I freaked out completely when the first one went in, and it took her six months to get me to go back for the second one. Perhaps this has tainted my opinion of piercings. The nose thing is kind of cool, as I admitted before, but I don't know if I could handle it with my own past experiences and Adelaide's description of her own ("It hurt like a mother...."). And I think I would only be doing something like that to freak my friends out since I'm not that type. Maybe I'll go crazy and get second holes in my ears....

Reflections from long ago

I visited my high school today, to return a book my English teacher had lent me for a college report. Boy, it's different going back. I only recognized one girl in the crowd of kids, and nobody knew who I was. It's been too long. The year after I graduated I could go back there and here everyone yelling,"Hi, Jordan!" and a flock would come running to talk with me. Those were the kids I grew up with in junior high and high school. Now, even they are gone. It's been three years; the last class I was really familiar with graduated last year, and now the little kids who were freshman my senior year are the one who are running the place. It's so weird! Justins, you would understand....

But of course, we were the coolest class hands down. Even Mr. Newkirk and Mrs. Cherry admit that. So here's a nice walk down memory lane, via fun pictures taken throughout high school.

Our wonderful class, all twelve of us-- We had a lot of fun. 

Watching a movie/napping on the houseboat-- if it looks like there are more guys than girls, it's because there are... they outnumbered us with a 3:1 ratio. 

Road trip! 

Many hours spent working on the yearbook... and eating Jack in the Box food.... over the 'No eating by computers' sign.... 

Mikey and I in Mr. Newkirk's class-- you can tell we learned a lot in there....