boots with the fur

I've been thinking about changes I want to make in my life. 

So that I am happier, more at peace, more confident, and more Christ-like.

I am a firm believer in personal revelation. That God speaks directly to us and any question we have, He will answer. (if not always in the way that we expect..yes, I am quoting Luna Lovegood!)

Anyway, I've just had a reoccurring thought over the last few weeks and I've decided to act on it. 

It might seem silly and strange to others but I am ok with it. 

I've decided to only wear skirts and dresses.

 (except for working out and/or cleaning the house)

This may seem trivial and random to some. 

But it means a lot to me.

I've always been a skirt wearer, since my youngest days. 

I feel confident and free in a skirt. 

I feel more attractive and more focused. 

I've also never found a pair of jeans that I really liked. 

It also reminds me of my missionary service. 

It is a visual trigger for me to remember God and to live a Christ centered life.

I know, just wearing a skirt does that?

For me, it does. 

So..here is to the era of skirts and dresses. 

Wish me Luck!!

Lori Ann

Dreams that had never come true

Things I want to rant about right now...

I feel really restless. I have been feeling this way for a few weeks. Like I just want to get away from my life and my daily routine. It's probably partially related to the fact that it's summer now.

I've had a tough week client wise. Of course, I can't really share details but there are some people I can't help and who make me feel anxious and overwhelmed. Like I just want to run screaming from this profession.

I rarely smile for pictures but I swear this is how I've looked all week. Tired and mildly anxious and just done. 

I wonder if that is how God feels when we are hard to help. I am sure He is calm and patient and just waits for us to find our way back to Him. I couldn't do His job. 

Lately I've been relying heavily on my Heavenly Father to get me through the days. I find myself praying between appointments, asking for His guidance and some of His strength.

I love this one. He looks so happy that we are home. 

I keep waiting for my tattoo to finish healing. It's kind of scabbed over and muddled right now. I can't wait until it's healed and clear. I need the reminder to take it 'one' thing at a time.

I feel so lost when I think about the direction our country is going in. Gay marriage is legal in PA now. Now..you all know I love gay boys. (men, sorry). I've provided counseling for gay couples and I've met some amazing gay people in my life. It's hard for me to even voice dismay at this latest development because I get that it has made a lot of people happy. It's just that I feel like we are increasingly turning away from the plan of God and following the false idols of 'equality' and 'nonjudgement'. I always used to laugh when I would read the scriptures and hear stories about people worshipping false idols. "How could they be so stupid as to dance around a brass calf?" I would wonder. Now I get it. Satan makes false idols so persuasive. He takes ideas that come from God- love, happiness, family, non judgement- and he twists them just slightly.

There are no 'haters' in the great and spacious building. Just come as you are, have a glass of wine, everything's ok.

I remember after 9/11 wanting to literally wrap myself up in the American flag because I felt so lost. I want to wrap myself up in my religion and my testimony. I feel like we are all a little lost. 

This whole post is coming across as kind of depressing. I really do think I have something like seasonal affective disorder when summer comes. I hate it so much. 

My idea of heaven is an eternal late October Day in PA. Drinking apple cider and baking pumpkin cookies with Danielle's kids. With a chilly breeze and the smell of burning leaves. And that feeling of being more connected to my American heritage. That's my heaven.

Hopefully tomorrow I won't be so morose. 

Lori Ann

Where have all the flowers gone...

Memorial Day 2014

 A Picture Post

Every year or so my mom and Danielle's kids have a lemonade stand. This year they added cotton candy. And flag cookies. (which were actually really cool)- Rumor has it they made 37 dollars. Mostly from grandpa :) 

 Then there was just a lot of running around and not getting much done and it being too dang hot all day.

Then we moved on to the Memorial Day portion of our day. First with a strange barbecue and then each one of the kids pairing up with their 'birth order' partner to learn about the American Wars. 

Jack and Jack had the French and Indian War. Which big Jack used as a platform to talk about his views on the French and their cowardice. Quite amusing :)  

Another oldest child team, my mom and Jr covered what we think was the Revolutionary War. They wore matching shirts, beat boxed, and rapped to something they found on youtube. I asked my dad later if watching this presentation was similar to what it feels like being on an acid trip. I have some of it recorded. It'll be on youtube by tomorrow!! 

Team Civil War (Danielle and James) seemed mostly interested in asserting the superiority of their 'second born' status and rewriting 'guggles' into the civil war. Also, there was talk of shooting baked goods and Gettysburg being the true start of the war. I found it to be historically inaccurate. I did like it when big Jack referred to it as "the war of North Aggression" :)  

Things took a decided turn when the third borns got up. Elly and my dad. In one piece of poster board my dad had chronicled the entire first World War. As you can see. It was epic. We learned about trench warfare, a 2 year battle in one town, and the death of a random 300 Japanese that no one can account for. And a lot of other stuff.

Next was Katy and I, the family babies. I have no pictures of our World War 2 presentation. But it was life changing. Trust me :) 

Then, per tradition, we went to the cemetery to leave flowers at the war memorial. I love this war memorial. It has a lot of meaning for me.

Katy said the prayer at the War Memorial. It was so sweet. She said "Dear Heavenly Father. Thank you so much for the soldiers who died for us so that we could be free. Please bless that there will be no more war".

I'll never forget that prayer. 

Katy standing at the grave of a Revolutionary soldier

This was the oldest grave we found. We're pretty sure it says 1709. I know there are older ones but we left fairly quickly once the church bells started ringing. It freaked the kids out. :) 

We found graves of soldiers from every single American War (up to the last 2) 

Then I found this little one. How sad. 11 days. 

I am so grateful and proud to be American. And never more than on this day.

Lori Ann

Just wanna live

I almost missed one of the most important events in my life as I skimmed through my years in graduate school.

My trip to Europe

I went to Europe in the late winter of 2007. February into March.

I went on an 12 day tour of like 9 countries. It was an incredible deal. Somewhere around 2 thousand for EVERYTHING- airfare, hotels, breakfast, everything except dinner and some lunches. It was kind of a wild tour bus-(it's called Contiki)- but it was such a great deal, I would recommend it to anyone. 

ANYWAY

As I recall it went something like this...

England to the Netherlands to Austria to Switzerland to Germany to Italy (Rome, Florence, and Venice) and finally to France. 

I know there were other countries. I just can't remember. 

I saw Paris and Rome and Amsterdam and London and Munich and a million other amazing places.

Me at the top of the Eiffel Tower at night!

I could regale you with story after story about how amazing it was and how much it changed my life. Because it WAS amazing and it DID change my life.

But rather than make this an insanely long post, I want to just share the most defining moments and what I took away from my European tour as a whole.

Moment 1

 Seeing the Anne Frank attic. It was breathtaking and sad. It was also a lot bigger than I thought it would be. I saw her actual diary and the pictures she put on the wall. I think it hit me hard because I had just had a niece born the year before (the lovely Elly Mae) and it made me sad to think of her, locked up in an attic and eventually dying young. All of that beauty and potential lost.

Moment 2 

Dachau- it's a lesser known concentration camp just outside of Munich. You can see WW 2 all over Germany. (the way you can still see the Civil War in the South). I thought being in  concentration camp would have an overwhelming feeling of sadness or evil. It just felt so empty. I'll never forget that feeling.

It says "work shall make you free". They wanted the prisoners to think it was a work camp.

Moment 3

 Seeing Belgium (we drove through it) and parts of France and Germany that reminded me of PA. It made me realize how hard it must have been for my ancestors to leave. They tried to bring a sense of their home with them and you can see it echoed all over where I'm from in PA. I can't imagine ever having had the strength to leave such beautiful places, much less my family.

Moment 4

Staring up at the Sistine Chapel. It's the only place on Earth (in my experience) that has the same feeling as a Temple. I thought it would be a grandiose cathedral (like much of the Vatican is) but it was a simple, wooden church- with this stunning, breathtaking ceiling. I could feel God in that tiny, crowded Chapel.

Moment 5

  Florence. It wasn't a city I knew much about and it was just kind of a 'eh' sort of stop. Until we got there. You could feel the history. I felt like I'd taken a step back into the Renaissance and I wish I could have stayed for months and months.

A piazza overlooking all of Florence. Me looking like the worst sort of tourist

There are so many more little moments- Gondola rides, running through the streets of Amsterdam, the AMAZING spaghetti in Italy, one really cool Australian girl:),  etc, etc, etc.... but my overall take away was this (after the pictures)...

The Pantheon!

Me and the aforementioned really cool Australian girl :) 

What I took away from this life changing trip is that I love visiting other places but am deeply attached to where I come from. I felt a little lost every moment I was gone from America. I got delayed a day in returning (and got to stay at the Heathrow Hilton, no less) and I just started crying. I wanted to go home.

Seeing where my family came from was incredibly powerful and there was a part of me that felt like France, England, and the coast of Ireland (which I could see from the plane) were places I had always known, and had just forgotten for a while. 

I loved Europe and I hope to go back someday. It reminded me that I come from a line of incredibly strong people. People who left these beautiful places to start over somewhere new. People whose convictions were stronger than any nationality, history or family even. Hinsdale's left France for religious freedom in the year 1632.

 That makes me a 13th generation American.

It's in my blood. I only feel completely safe and at peace here. I could never live anywhere else. So, in that respect, I am not as strong as my ancestors were.

Lori Ann

The Maui Maui

I'm experimenting with the panoramic option on my iPhone

It's the kick off of my 4 day weekend!!!

This is always my favorite part. That first morning when the time off in front of you seems like it stretches out forever. 

It goes by so fast, of course, and then you are back in the trenches. 

A few of my favorite stories from this week, not to be forgotten...

Talking to Danielle's kids (Elly and James in particular) about Mozart. I was telling them how he died in the middle of writing the Lacrimosa of his Requiem Mass. And no one knows exactly where he stopped writing. James immediately announces "Well, I think he actually finished it before he died!" and Elly says "Maybe we can be the first ones to discover where he stopped writing!" 

Danielle asking me to give her cat Willow some E because she looked sad :) 

A little preface for this one...when we were little, my dad never had sympathy when we felt sick. He would say "Go puke and you'll feel better". I always vowed that I would be different. Which was why I was slightly appalled to find myself; as I drove Katy and myself to my office, yelling into the backseat "Puke into that bag if you are going to puke because I'm not cleaning up this car". (she was saying her belly hurt) Sympathetic loving kindness- thy name is Aunt Lori. 

Elly came running into the house yesterday and she yells "Aunt Lori. You HAVE TO see something. You are going to be AMAZED!" She proceed to show me her back bend kick over on the sloping ground in front of my parents house. She is so earnest and tries so hard at everything she does. She is pure Elly magic. 

 Enjoy your weekend, people!!

Lori Ann 

I can't be holding on

Tonight's topics: Tattoos, red bull for minors, and the Queens of PA.

But first the pictures!!!

This is a totally photoshopped picture of me from yesterday. But I love that I can get it to look like this without too much work :)  I hardly recognize myself. (I wish my skin were really this luminous)

Wait..wait...here is an unphotoshopped picture from the same day. Sexy! :) 

And now on to the Queens...

I've recently been telling my nieces they are named after Queens (which is kind of true) and I think it's been inspiring Elly especially. She likes to tell other little girls that THEY aren't named after a Queen like she is :) 

I looked in the rear view mirror the other day and saw this little hand waving in the window, so I pointed my phone into the back seat and took this cute picture. I love the Katy Cat.

And last but not least, the tattoo. Yes- I now have two tattoos. I will never get another one. But this one has been on my bucket list forever. My 'one' tattoo.

It means a million important things to me. But for the sake of simplicity, I will say that one major inspiration was the song "one" by U2. 

The lyrics "We're one, but we're not the same- we get to carry each other, carry each other- One" are kind of the defining lyrics of my life.

So it's my U2, abnegation, YOLO, al-anon one day at a time, one way home kind of tattoo. 

It's not this bright, by the way, this pic was before it faded. Most people think it's a small scar, which is exactly what I wanted. This tattoo isn't really for any one's eyes but mine. (and this rabid blog readership, of course)

Lori Ann

p.s.- And red bull for minors..one sip isn't bad, right? Some older sisters are so picky..."Lori, you can't let my kids have energy drinks for breakfast." and "Lori, no sour patch kids for breakfast either". Picky, picky... :) 

p.p.s.- "Let's not have a repeat of the last time!" 

Slamming the door

Random Picture Post

The two little girls in my Sunday school class. They're wild :) The recently demanded I get them Hello Kitty folders.

I don't want to know how my mother knows so much about breaking and entering. But I'm just glad she got us in to watch House of Cards!

Poor Thomas lost the last inch or two of his tail in the door. People are already calling him 'stubs'. (so maybe it's me calling him that. Whatever. It was going to happen eventually!)

Katherine really is a classic American beauty. 

Elly is doing great with her gymnastics! She already has the strange leotard. I give us a few years until we are in the Olympics, baby!

Weird selfie # 311- just for my sister Erin! 

This thing is so weird. It's constantly climbing in my purse.

So many stories have happened and I wish I had written them down before because I've forgotten some of them.

But here are a couple I remember.

James, in discussing how one of Nana Terry's brothers died, stated "yeah, but he was martyred".

Creating cupcake surprises with the girls.

Elly wearing her soccer uniform and high heeled shoe to school in the same day.

I wish I could just record their whole childhood. :)

Lori Ann

Never Mind

25-27.

Those were the years I spent in graduate school. 

(I have very few pictures of this time of my life for some reason-sorry)

Prior to my junior year of college I only had a vague idea of what exactly graduate school was. 

I knew there was law school and medical school and I had heard of Masters Degrees and Doctorates but I didn't connect it all in my head. I was just hoping to survive long enough to get my Bachelors. 

But around my junior year it occurred to me that I wasn't really going to be able to do anything with a Sociology degree. (A major that I almost literally fell into)

My senior year came. 

I was working more than full time hours, I was trapped in a little town in Idaho, I wasn't dating or anywhere near married, and I was about to graduate with a degree that was next to worthless.

To say that I did not have a life plan would be an understatement. I had been (and still am to this day) mainly living in what I call 'survial mode'. 

It's typical of children who grow up with some element of chaos in their home. Frequent moves, poverty, addiction, any form of abuse- they don't develop the executive functioning skills needed to create a course and follow it. Most of them also do not have the family support and knowledge to navigate climbing up the socio-economic ladder. 

I learned what I could about graduate school and applied to Temple University in the MSW (Masters in Social Work) program. I did this for two reasons. It was close to home and I didn't have to take the GRE. I didn't have 300 dollars to take a graduate school entrance exam. A lot of fields of study require it. But social work did not. 

I based my entire career path on not having 300 dollars to take a test. 

My family (and anyone who is trapped listening to me for 5 minutes) can tell you that I am not passionate about social work. I am not passionate about being a therapist. (another job I kind of fell into)

To be completely, brutally honest- I don't even believe in half of the mental health disorders. It's not that I don't try my hardest to give my clients the care that they deserve- it's just... I don't know. 

So, anyway- I got accepted into the program (yeah, they were happy to charge me 40 grand) and I spent the next two years running around like a chicken with my head cut off.

The first year I lived at home. Took the train into Philly two days a week. The R-5. I drove up to Norristown (about 40 minutes away) to intern at a place called Hedwig House the other three days. It's a day program for people diagnosed with schizophrenia. (because I was focusing in mental health- not children, youth and families). That was the wildest internship of my life. 

I baked with schizophrenics. Cleaned with them. Broke up fights about Jesus and cigarettes. Read case history after case history. Updated the entire filing system. Lived in a little office in a corner. (with a Ouija board in it!). Fought with my supervisor Eleanor (who was from Poland and I swear spend every afternoon on the phone to Poland)

Year two found me living in the city. On Broad street. About 10 blocks from city hall- with it's iconic statute of William Penn.

I was a resident coordinator (in charge of about 15 RA's who were each in charge of a hallway of first year students)

This was my first "real" college experience. I saw it all. Alcohol poisoning. Crime. Trashy Halloween costumes. Chinese food at 3 am. 

There were moments when I loved it. But I mostly hated it. 

I don't like living in a city. So much noise. It doesn't enliven me. It exhausts me. And being surrounded by drunken college freshmen, a residential director who hated me, and being in possibly the most liberal major in the most liberal college on Earth did not make it easier. 

I wish I had tape recorded some of my classroom lectures. They really are trying to indoctrinate everyone with their ideology. Graduate school is not about free expression and exchange of ideas. It's as harsh and adherent to it's very strict belief structure as the Puritans ever were to theirs. I once said that I thought that if you loved your partner (spouse, whatever) you would tell them if you got an HIV diagnosis. My gosh, the wrath of judgement I got for that. It was insane. 

ANYWAY, 

There are so many stories I could tell. Between dragging Christmas lights down Broad Street at 9 pm at night, to listening to Eye of the Tiger and driving lost freshmen home from the Target, to the night of 6 fire alarms going off, to playing who, what, when, where, why with a group of people who were all stoned. Except me. 

Not to mention the camp reunions, the birth of one Elizabeth Mae Monroe, the BROKEBACK obsession (my gosh, I was insane), the summer of living with Erin in Colorado, getting my first ipod as a TIP, falling a little bit in love with the mountains, the second year internship at a place called POMP (completely pointless office work- I learned NOTHING), to my obsession with fourth meal. 

It was a crazy, crazy two years. 

And on my graduation day, in May of 2007, I promised myself I would never go back to school. And that is a promise I will never break. 

Lori Ann

p.s.- Up next- BARC and moving to the South, y'all. 

One

Random Saturday Morning Life Update

My seasonal affective disorder has officially kicked in. I HATE the heat. Thankfully, most days its still a nice spring like temperature. But that won't last forever. 

Last night I was googling "How to become Amish". There is such a strong part of me that wishes I didn't have to live in the world like it is. I really love the idea of leaving behind all of the distractions of the modern world and just working hard, sleeping well, and drawing closer to God in a small little PA town.

I feel like we are in a really bad place as a country at times. Like we think we know better than God. It makes me sad to see so many people wrapping themselves up in secularism and pride and their learning. Because they don't have faith. And they don't see it, but I feel like they are so lost. Because they are trying to find happiness and peace in all of that. But true happiness and peace comes from God. 

Work has been crazy lately. Good crazy some days, bad crazy others. I don't know that I have the compassion that I need for this job at times. Every day I pray for more compassion.

I've been skyping with my sister Erin. It's nice to see her face. 

I am officially addicted to House of Cards. Now that the Blacklist is over until fall, I need another older man with a lot of power to fixate on! (Kevin Spacey is no James Spader, of course..)

I have decided to just take things a day at a time with my fitness and health goals. When I make too big or too elaborate a plan, it inevitably falls apart. 

I am so looking forward to next weekend. It's going to be a 4 day weekend for me. I might go somewhere. Or just organize my life. Something. 

Our poor cat Thomas lost part of his tail this morning. It makes me so sad. He's doing ok but yikes!

I got an iphone again. I didn't really miss it but I like the convenience of having all my music, a camera, and all my contacts in one place. And directions if I get lost. But that two year contract feels like a jail sentence. 

I think the seasonal affective makes me restless and unfocused. 

Oh well.

Tomorrow will be a picture post with all the exciting life updates!!

Lori Ann

What if he's obese?

It's almost Mother's Day. 

I've written a number of mother's day tributes to my mom. 

I'm not sure that's she really the tribute type.

So, I thought I'd just share my favorite memories of her from this year and thank her for being exactly the mother that she is. Strong. Beautiful. And slightly evil. :) 

 My mom bought me 130 some balloons after I walked my very first 5k. To represent every lb I had lost at that point. She and Jack Jack made like 4 trips to the (not that close) dollar store to transport them home. They then hid them in Jr's apartment and surprised me. It was MAGICAL. I still have the deflated balloons. (well the ones the kids didn't get!). I made artwork out of them and have it in my office. Seeing her there with all of those balloons will always be one of my very favorite memories. 

Only to be topped by this one. The last 1/2 mile of my half marathon. I was tired, mildly delirious, and icy cold. It had rained the ENTIRE race. I was way, way, way back. (not last, but close). I could see the Art Museum once I hit mile 12 but it just seemed to get further and further away and I thought I would never get there. Then I saw her. This little person in a poncho walking towards me. My mom has a very distinctive walk. I knew it was her.

She walked the last half mile with me. 

I will always remember that. 

My other favorite memories are things that I have been told. I've been to my mom's work a time or two over the last year. Each time someone told me that I looked JUST like my mom. 

I have never heard that in all of my adult life. 

It made me sooooooooo happy. 

Happy Mother's Day, mom. 

Thank you for everything you have ever done for me. 

Lori Ann

Every time she falls

This post is best accompanied by a little Maroon 5. Try not to be distracted by Adam Levine's hotness. :)

Age 22 to 25 are what I think of as the Songs about Jane years. 

Most people's cognitive development has them branching out into their own music around age 14. 

I didn't really find 'my music' until 22 or so. 

And it began with that album. Which is still my favorite album of all time. 

(closely followed by James Blunt, 'Back to Bedlam' and Joni Mitchell 'Blue')

ANYWAY,

When I got home from my mission, I was kind of depressed.

Even though I didn't want to be a missionary anymore, I didn't want to be home either.

I started working as a CNA again. At the same place I'd worked before my mission.

I couldn't go back to college until I paid off this small amount of money I owed. (which it seemed I could never save) and, for a little while, I kind of gave up on college.

I began thinking about being a CNA for the rest of my life. 

Most days, I loved being a CNA. It was physically demanding but very fulfilling in a lot of ways. 

I thought that this was going to be my life.

I bought my first car. A 1994 Nissan Altima. 

I lived with my parents. 

I got to see Danielle and her kids.

 (they lived in PA briefly at this time)

My Jamesaroni was born and he was the SWEETEST baby on Earth.

I liked my life. It was calm and steady.

But I was not moving forward in any way. And I think I was driving my parents crazy.

Then my mom told me that she had paid off my college so that I could go back. 

That single act changed my life. 

I went back to college in January of 2004. 

I met a million awesome friends. My roommate Alicia, my neighbors, and some amazing church friends. Almost all of them were from Colorado and it was very cool to get to know these girls who were from such a different place and lived such a different life than me.

They were all health nuts and strong, faithful Mormon girls and they made me look at life in a different way. They pushed me out of my comfort zone.

There was the Rodeo Queen vomit incident.

The time we smuggled in a cat to our dorm. Pouncer the wonder cat.

The Jesus statue fights.

The 6 weeks of Erin.

The Beehive house and June's be-otch incident.

The 'who, what, when, where, and why' craziness.

The weddings and the diet coke birthday.

So many amazing memories.

I would spend the next two years in Idaho, finally graduating with my Bachelors in Sociology and Spanish in 2005 at the age of 25.

But, between all those crazy semesters and finally getting my undergraduate degree, I did something else that changed my life.

I worked at summer camp.

Yes, summer camp. All the stories you hear about it are true!

I worked as the camp nurse for two summers (2004 and 2005).
(which is kind of scary as I only had CNA training)

It gave me a chance to come home, work for the 8 weeks I had free, make enough money to pay for housing, and then race back to school.

Those were the best summers of my life. 

The camp is so beautiful. It is in Chester County, PA. Amish country. There is a horse and buggy sign right outside of the camp and horse and buggy parking at the local supermarket.

It was every single day stunningly Pennsylvania beautiful.

This is the dock (Eri and I, of course, fell out of the canoe)

But even more amazing than the view were the friends that I made there. I had NEVER had friends like that. 

My family and church are amazing in so many ways and they are the foundation of who I am but I didn't know what unconditional acceptance and friendship were until I worked at camp.

For a lot of reasons, I had never really liked myself. 

But camp taught me to like myself. To see everything that was cool and interesting about me. 

The campers and other counselors would literally shout my name (which at camp was "moonbeam") across the camp. 

They kind of fixed something in me that I didn't know what broken. As cheesy as that sounds. 

I will always remember those summers. I will never regret that time I spent. My only tattoo is a tribute to those days and those friends. 

Random camp friends

Poor Forrest was the only male staff member.

The after camp parties were EPIC! (and i was STILL trying to be some level of blond!) Anyway, in the middle of all of this college and camp craziness, I fell in love. OK, maybe intense infatuation would be a better word. (Because I recognize that real love is being there for someone and 40 years of marriage and cleaning up their vomit and all of that.) But this was the first time in my life that I GOT poetry and love songs and I felt like I couldn't breath. I haven't been in love since. And I hate men so much (thanks, Mom!) that I don't think that I will ever be again. Which is OK. I'm glad I got the experience once. It's changed the way I see the world. How I see myself. It's given me memories I will never forget. And that's my life to 25. Next edition: Graduate school, Philadelphia, Colorado, and schizophrenic baking groups! MoonBeam

The after camp parties were EPIC! (and i was STILL trying to be some level of blond!)

Anyway, in the middle of all of this college and camp craziness, I fell in love.

OK, maybe intense infatuation would be a better word.

(Because I recognize that real love is being there for someone and 40 years of marriage and cleaning up their vomit and all of that.)

But this was the first time in my life that I GOT poetry and love songs and I felt like I couldn't breath.

I haven't been in love since.

And I hate men so much (thanks, Mom!) that I don't think that I will ever be again.

Which is OK. I'm glad I got the experience once.

It's changed the way I see the world. How I see myself. It's given me memories I will never forget.

And that's my life to 25.

Next edition: Graduate school, Philadelphia, Colorado, and schizophrenic baking groups!

MoonBeam