My story for my creative writing class.

CLINK! CLINK! CLINK!

She opened the door and turned on the overhead light as she walked over to her seven year old daughter, Gracie. She was curled up and snuggled tightly under her star and moon covers. “Good morning, Angel,” she whispered as she tucked a piece of Gracie’s golden locks behind her ear. “Head downstairs for breakfast before school. I made your favorite, blueberry waffles,” she explained. Gracie’s baby blue eyes grew large and a smile that was missing a tooth, ran across her face. She shut Gracie’s bedroom door and headed downstairs, while Gracie got dressed.

CLINK! CLINK! CLINK!

She walked into the kitchen, where her husband, Danny, was reading today’s newspaper. They had been married for eight happy and blissful years. Danny’s dark brown hair and emerald green eyes had hooked her in several years ago. He stood up and walked over to her. He embraced her from behind; his mouth smelling of pulp from his morning orange juice. “The waffles were incredible. Thank you for a perfect morning. I’ll see you tonight when I get home. I love you,” he said as he kissed her rosy cheek. He let go of her and smiled as he grabbed his briefcase and left for work. Danny had been working at the law firm for five years, and had already become the best lawyer there. She knew it was his charm and dashing good looks that always won the female jurors over.

CLINK! CLINK! CLINK!

Gracie ran downstairs, with the scent of blueberry waffles guiding her nose. Jeans and a white Seaseme Street t-shirt was the outfit choice today. She thought of Gracie covered in grass stains by the end of the day. Gracie climbed up onto the barstool at the island in the middle of the kitchen; it was Gracie’s favorite place to eat in the house. She sliced up a banana and placed the pieces around Gracie’s plate. Gracie was always thrilled when her breakfast was aesthetically pleasing. She opened her stainless steel fridge, and pulled out the non-fat milk for Gracie, and set it on the marble counter-top. Gracie liked to pour her own glass, insisting she was a “woman” who could take care of herself. Bless her heart.

CLINK! CLINK! CLINK!

She got Gracie and her school bag in the Lexus. It was a five minute drive to Gracie’s school. Gracie can walk to school later on down the road when she’s “woman” enough. She parked the car and waited for Gracie to go inside the school building before she drove to work. She blew Gracie a kiss and then headed into town.

CLINK! CLINK! CLINK!

She is the top chef at the Italian Bistro restaurant, and is loved and respected by her peers. Even though she was in what she calls her “cooking scrubs”, she was still a knockout to everyone else. Her long, strawberry blonde hair swayed as she ran inside the restaurant. Her crystal blue eyes gleamed as she greeted her co-workers with her bright smile. Her long, slender legs helped her to seemingly glide across the kitchen floor to begin working on today’s masterpiece of a meal.

CLINK! CLINK! CLINK!

She had it all. She was the perfect wife and mother to her perfect husband and child. She lived in a perfect two-story victorian home, with a perfect golden retriever. She had the perfect job, and cooked perfect meals. Everything was perfect.

CLUNK.

A quarter was dropped into her old coffee can. She had found the tin can last year in a dumpster behind a small cafe. Her icy ivory fingers grasped the can tightly as a gust of freezing wind lashed against her emaciated face. The cold air snapped at her tiny red nose. “Thank you,” she whispered through her cracked, thin lips, as the stranger walked away. She buried her free hand, covered in dirt and grime, into her jacket. The jacket wasn’t much; it was too light for this winter storm, and had too many holes to hold onto any warmth. But it was all she had.

CLINK! CLINK! CLINK!

Don't ya know?

Well, looky what we have here. A blog that I totally forgot about. I remember we started these blogs for our newspaper and yearbook class. Ha, see how well I've kept up with mine?

Well, who knows. Maybe I will keep up with this blog now. I always having something to say (interesting or not), so why not?

I am 13 days away from graduating from CBU and man, it's a great feeling. I'm done with finals; I have two small papers, one story and one presentation to do, and then I'm free. I am free.

I'll be moving out of my apartment on April 30th (Praise the Lord), and heading back home to Oregon. Home. Oregon is my home. I miss everything about it. Portland's city life. The back roads out in the country side. Crater Lake. The Oregon Coast. Mudding and wheeling up in Wagner. Going to Detroit Lake. This summer is going to be perfect.

I do have a few trips planned. Robbie and I will be driving to Arizona to drop off his dog, Grizzly. Robbie had to move, and his new place is too small for Grizzly to enjoy himself and just be a dog. So, we are driving him down to Arizona and giving him to Robbie's Aunt, who has plenty of acres for Griz-man to run around like a dog should.

Another trip to hopefully transpire, is a trip to Idaho with Katie, to visit her Uncle Larry again. He's a kick in the pants, and hope to see him again soon.

Well, it's a Saturday night/ Sunday morning. I'm going to take advantage of the weekend and watch a movie.

I'll catch ya'll on the flipside.

Weird night...

Well, I suppose instead of sleep walking last night, I slept wrote.
I woke up the next morning with a pen in my bed, and a one page story that I have no recollection of writing. So, I thought I'd share what I wrote with ya'll.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? I can still hear my baby cry for help every single wretched night that I have managed to stay alive. They took him from me three weeks ago. I know not if he is alive or dead.
I know my purpose here. I am meant to die with the others. And today is the day.
They have cut my hair and stripped me of my clothes, shoes, dignity; my life. The others keep telling themselves they are apart of an experiment and everything is going to be okay.
I know the truth.
BANG. Another one has unsuccessfully escaped. I dare not look, for I have too many horrific images burned in my memory; my heart.
The others pile in one by one. Their screams are muffled by the door closing them in. Their reality has sunk in too late. The doors are re-opened as the scent of burning flesh dwells in my nostrils, and the screams are no more. The chamber is empty, hungry, ready to devour more.
"I'll always be in your heart", were my sister's last words before she walked into Hell. She is long gone.
My stomach is tossing and turning. There is no use trying to escape the monsters. It is too late. I know my purpose here. I am meant to die. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Banner whaaaat?!

For Banner I have been assigned to do the calendar for this semester.

It's really difficult to do when I have sooooo much homework to do. Projects, finals, tests, and doing the calendar, proved to be challenging.

It was hard to do at first, because the times and dates were in different order than other times where I got the information. So that meant I had to go over the calendar and make sure everything was organized the same way.

There's not much else to say about this, seen as how I only did the calendar. I didn't write any stories. I have been too busy with Angloes. What's a girl to do?!

Blog number one..yay finals!

I have learned that nobody is perfect.
I have learned that stress is only a test of my faith. And boy am I tested a lot.

This semester in Angelos has been such a rollercoaster of emotions. So much stress, yet so much fun. I have learned that communication is a priceless treasure that no one should ever take for granted. Trust me on that one.

Hard work doesn't come easy. It sure does come at 2AM in the Angelos office, working on the deadline pages, trying to remember at which point you lost your mind.

I have also learned that no matter how many times you look at a page, there is always a mistake that needs to be looked at 50 times before someone catches it. I've made many mistakes this semester. I forgot to double check which pages were sent off, and missed three. (oops. Big time).

I also learned that creativity comes at a price. Yes, we had a template to follow. However, creativity does not have a template. Let's just say tying down creativity to our template was probably the hardest thing to do. We had such creative designers, and our template wasn't enough for them. They needed more. Slowly but surely, I have seen tiny details added into the template. Hey, maybe next year we will actually get the hang of this.

Let's see..what else I have learned....
Oh. Pictures. Frustrations beyond belief. I feel there is little to no art left in the photos we use. We just take the pictures that we need and leave. We need to go above and beyond the call of duty. All of us. Even me.

So what will it look like next year?? Only God knows that one...

Fake eye made into...webcam??

Alrighty, check it out.

There is a woman who lives in San Fransisco, who lost one of her eyes in a car accident. She has a fake eye, or prosthetic eye if you will, and wants to install a webcam in it, that will transmit the images to her brain. Think it will work? What your thoughts on this??

Her blog:
http://tanyavlach.wordpress.com/


Her story:
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,453990,00.html

Sharing my favorite...

This, my friends, is the portal back to your childhood.
That's right. Chocolate milk.
I love chocolate milk. As a matter of fact, I'm drinking some chocolate milk right now. Why, you ask? Because besides of the fact that it is darn right delectable, it reminds me of my childhood. As many of you may know by now, I am indeed from Oregon, and I am indeed stuck here, smack dab in Riverside, California. I am not complaining, but I would just like to put it on the record, that I miss my family very, very much.
When I was seven years old, I flew to New Jersey during the summer. It was my first time flying, and I was flying alone. I was absolutely terrified. The stewardess recognized the symptoms of a first-time flyer flying solo, and she quickly gave me what I needed. She asked me, "Do you like chocolate milk?". I hesitantly nodded my head, keeping my eyes to the floor. She told me to wait a second, and I did as she left me. Of course I was panicking at this moment. What was going to happen? Was I in trouble? Why did she want to know if I liked chocolate milk? She came back with a bottle of chocolate milk. "I bought this bottle of chocolate milk for the flight. It's my favorite drink in the whole wide world. Here, it's for you," she explained. I questioned her. My parents always told me not to talk to strangers, much less accept anything from them, but here it was, right in front of me; the golden bottle of chocolate milk that ever seven-year old coveted. After some thought, I gave myself the green light, and took the bottle from her hand. "You're a grown up. Why do you like chocolate milk," I asked. "Everyone is allowed to like chocolate milk. I will keep drinking it forever, and you should too. It gives you strong bones," she replied. I've always wanted to have strong bones, and be straight up invincible like all the super heros. I never stopped drinking chocolate milk since, and it's been one of the best decisions of my life. I have had some of the best conversations over a glass of chocolate milk, and some of the best childhood memories with chocolate milk.

Hey, it does a body good.
:)