Dear coffee,

I'd like to thank you officially and formally for seeing me through awkward meetings, and of course, the less awkward, down-to-earth moments of life as well.

You never judge me if It's 11 am, and I am only barley gracing the world with my presence. You never mind my primal grunts that form before more intelligent language can construct itself inside my brain, because I can never truly wake up unless I've consumed at least one cup of your delicious, smooth, and aromatic brew.

Even if you're of the decaf kind, the effect is the same. The warmth of the cup I'm holding is enough to do the trick.

To others, it might seem like I am awake, but in reality, I really am not. I can't be held accountable for not recalling conversations that have transpired before said coffee has been consumed. Sorry guys.

Thank you also for your flexibility in being served cold in the summer and warm all year round. You really are great in every season.

Thank you for the early church mornings, (awkward) blind dates, where I usually call my sister right before hand to make sure she knows where I am going, and to also have her encourage me a little, and of course the many game nights with friends, family, and strangers that through sips of coffee, became friends. 

You've been a faithful friend, coffee. 

Many thanks,

Yours truly, 

a faithful coffee drinker,

Amber

It's all coming together

Well, school is starting soon.

I have never been on such a roller coaster of emotions as I have the last three months.

1. Getting accepted into the nursing program (Pure elation)

2. Wondering how I am going to pay for every thing that they require this summer. (fear)

3. And slowly coming to the realization that God will provide, and in miraculous ways. (hope and happiness)

Trust isn't an easy thing, and admittedly it's harder for me to trust when I don't know what the path is going to look like.

I just know that it's necessary for my heart to do it, and that I live happier when I do it.

What I know is that I have never prayed harder for something, worked harder for something, and been giving an opportunity to do something like this.

I am so thankful.

This is my beautiful writing view today: 

Picture via the  hipstamatic app on my iPhone.

Thanks Google!

When you're a student it's sometimes hard to save money for things. Even the necessities, and my poor dog has been suffering the "no spending" freeze too. Although she doesn't complain (as much as I do), I still feel terrible not doing the things I would normally have done for her by a profesh groomer.

You see, Ella is a high maintenance dog. Her lovely locks of hair just simply grow and grow and grow. She never sheds, and in some ways this is a blessing, but then comes the expensive grooming bills every other month or so depending on how much tangling occurs between brushings.

If you're looking to buy a dog that doesn't shed be prepared to spend more on hair products and/or services than you do on yourself because They. Are. Not. Cheap. 

So seeing my dilemma, I have had to find alternatives to keep her locks healthy and at a reasonable length on my own. 

Yes, it's extra work for me, but the matting that happens on her hair just had to STOP.

So this is where google came in, I decided to see if I could figure out an inexpensive way to get her matts out, and give her a little bit of freshening since this was going to be a longer visit between groomers than normal.

Google didn't let me down. Cornstarch is the key! If your dog is matted you need a fine tooth come or rake, a slicker brush, and cornstarch. 

1. You rub the cornstarch into the matted areas.

2. Use the fine tooth comb/rake to back up the matts starting from top to bottom. (If you were alive in the 80's, it's similar to all the ratting that you might have done on your hair.)

3. Use the slicker brush to then brush out after the matt has reasonably come out.

4. You might want to bathe your dog here because at this point they probably have a fair amount of white dust all over them. 

I was amazed how well this worked! Delighted really!

                                

Rake

Slicker

Where's your favorite place to write?

I don't know if anyone else is like me, but I have to have a calm, inspiring place to do my writing. Sometimes I like to change it up by going somewhere else, but mainly if I have a pretty view, I am set to write.

I do get easily distracted, so it takes a lot of effort to concentrate on what I am writing. If I can't stay concentrated, it's usually a sign that I don't enjoy what I am writing, and that defeats the purpose of writing a journal. Then I have to start thinking about why I wanted to start writing in the first place. What is my goal? What am I passionate about? If I don't write from the heart, than it will not tug on the heart strings of others.


Here is the space I currently write in :

This space has become a modge-podge of multiple uses. It's in my bedroom, and it's my office, my  vanity get ready in the mornings, study area, storage space, and contains some of my photography. I spend a lot of time staring into this space, so it's important that it's pleasant and inspires me to write! :]

Sugar and Spice!

Tonight as I was settling down, I could feel this slight twitching of my eye and realized I still had my contacts in.

There's something refreshing about taking those things out of your eyes after a long day. 

I slightly forgot that 20 minutes before I had eaten some wasabi almonds. YIKES. 

I touched my eyeball and holy cow!!! I think I was about five scovilles away from being the youtube sensation of the lady and her hot pepper challenge.

Have you seen that video? If not, go watch it:  Hot Pepper Challenge

I was pretty happy that no one was around to witness my stupidity, except for maybe Ella, and she's not telling anyone.

Another random topic, but has anyone seen those ceramic frying pans? We bought one, and I have to say that it is a dream to cook in. I never can make eggs over easy, even in those non-stick pans, but this one is amazing! 

They look like this: 

It's the easiest to clean, and they aren't super expensive either. If you're on a budget, I'm pretty sure it's less than 10 dollars.

Plus they come in non-standard colors for pots and pans! Click here to check them out: Ceramic Pans!

Forever changed

Today I was driving from Ontario to Boise on the freeway. I drove past this truck advertising car repair. The tow truck was towing some kind of extended cab truck that was unrecognizable from damage. My first thought was that the truck was beyond repair and thought it odd, but then I started examining the truck more closely. There was a motor home attached the the back of the truck, this caused me to swallow hard. Someone who was on vacation.
The damage of the truck terrified me. A lump formed in my throat, and my stomach was knots upon knots. I couldn't help but cry a little before I looked away. I knew that behind the tangled metal and crushed glass, there was a family grieving. I immediately said a prayer for healing, comfort, and protection of the family who owned that vehicle.

So many times we want to stare at all the damage that has been done, but when faced with it's reality, it is so hard to see it. There have been so many tragedies lately, ones that have hit so close to home, friends of friends, or people we know. It brings on the worst kind of ache, something that can't be fixed by time, something you'll always remember. Time does not heal all wounds. It springs up like an overwhelming fountain of tears, in the most random places:
On the free way driving, in coffee shops when you first hear the news, in churches, in homes, in streets,  in schools, and in grocery stores, we weep.
You recognize a face that reminds you of someone gone. Tears, they just happen to come with it like a badge you're wearing. You seek comfort from those who remember that person, you never want to let those people go because they connect you. You seek comfort from God. You hope for a sign from God that everything is okay. You pray for one too.

This tangle of metal, the crushing of glass, it brings the pain back that every car accident I have heard about or seen since, does. I want to look away, because it reminds me how much I miss your smile, and your cheerful voice chiming like bells. It's gone from my eardrums in a instant, but I still remember it well.
The broken pieces bring me back to sitting in the school coffee shop, staring at facebook, learning you were gone after I'd just talked to you days before.
I know though, you wouldn't want any of us to be sad. It's a bittersweet realization.
You had the brightest smile, and you loved life so much.
I don't want to think about what your last minutes might have been like, and so I won't.  I  just want to remember you escaping from my car in the summer night with your one shoe, leaving the broken one behind for me to find, something to remember you by.
I still have your shoe.

It's not like the movies.

I remember that day clearly. I remember I was writing poetry in my room while my former boyfriend sat in the living room angry at me. The fight I cannot call to mind, but it caused us to flee from wherever we were and find shelter in opposite spaces of one another.

I got the call. The important call that I would have to drop everything for, because it was about to be one of the most important moments in my life.  I remember staring at the pieces of paper with my words scattered on them, my confused thoughts, when my cell phone rang. Seeing the name flash across the screen, I had already perceived what was about to occur.
"It's time." She said.
My apathy tempered.  I left the space of indifference behind, and quickly walked out the door with the my words trailing.
"It's time. I have to go."
He knew what it meant, and I left him with the residue of whatever we hadn't worked out. It wasn't the time or place for it.

And so, there I found myself minutes later, plopped down in a hospital room, nervous.  I was unsettled and unsure. If I knew one thing about comforting someone it definitely included confidence, and not revealing any uncertainties that you might have.

You have certain expectations of situations from what you've observed. You gather all those pieces, those snippets of perception, and you string them together into puzzle pieces until they fit inside your head. My expectations were completely off. First of all, I had only witnessed the birth room drama via TV sitcoms, or when it was mentioned briefly in movies like Father of the Bride part 2. I had no idea that Heather wasn't going to be biting my head off, yelling, screaming, maybe even breaking my phalanges via tight grip.

Lesson one, the movies always makes everything way more dramatic. (I witnessed one other labor, and it was also very mild compared to the movie experience.)

I knew she was in pain by way she couldn't get comfortable. We were alone in her hospital room for quite awhile. This was before my college days, and the labor and delivery nurse taught me how to read the monitor to tell when contractions were coming on so I could be prepared to help and coach.
But I was not prepared. I had no idea what in the world I was even doing there, but I knew my friend, and someone I had come to know as a sister needed me there, and I was going to give her the best that I could.

Her words grieved of pain, and all I knew to do was to pray (and of course try and get her to breathe like they do the in movies, apparently that's somewhat realistic)
I prayed aloud to her through her contractions.
We were there all night long, and I felt the morning creeping in. Through pain, sleep, slight convincing of an epidural, arrival of a grandmother to add to make our duo a trio, and then finally when the dawn peaked through the shades of the hospital windows, Olivia Anne made her debut.

I watched quietly and encouraged her when pushing. People always make the birth of a child seem like such an amazing miracle, and until I witnessed it myself,  I didn't realize how much of an understatement this was.
I felt the ache of the night, the fights, and the hopelessness all diminish into nothing.
The joy, hope, and love at the miraculousness of her birth overwhelmed me so that I could feel nothing but warmth inside. I knew nothing else mattered in that minute, but what God had done in that hospital room, in the labor and delivery unit of Saint Luke's Hospital.

I held her in my arms, breathing in her newborn baby likeness while she was swaddled in a blanket. She was a matter of minutes old, and she was the newest baby I'd ever held.

The word of the day...

Ojoinb - Oh - zha -oin - buh

This may or may not be a real word, but today it became one.
It commonly means "phone".
Using it in a sentence would sound like this.
"Hey, have you seen my ojoinb?"
or
"Hey, call my ojoinb."


Okay, so yes..This is ridiculous...but please start including this word in your vocabulary today.

I can't get my thoughts straight today. I am full of awkward thoughts. I want to dig deep and write something that comes from my heart, but tonight I just feel empty of thought other than something silly.
I am afraid of being ordinary, or boring.

Earlier it sounded like someone was moving furniture across the upstair. We had lightening and thunder. I was worried about the puppies outside and wanted to check on them, so I said to my best friend heather, "Hey do you want to go watch the thunder?" We both laughed and automatically thought, "Facebook status message!"

I'm worried about the storms starting more fires! There are fires everywhere! In Yosemite They canceled the Strawberry festival, which my friend is a part of. It's such a big music festival.
The fire in Sun Valley is apparently 75% contained, with only one house having burnt down.


Oy vey!


Heather just told me she thought today was national waffle day.


**disclaimer** I apologize for the random, weird and somewhat awkward content of this post. It's late, my best friend is staring over my shoulder as I type. This might have something to do with it. Stage fright, you know.

Goody Goody Gum Drops!

I felt like I was a little kid all over again today, immunizations galore!
I was never so thankful to be poked and prodded by needles.

Yesterday's worries are over. I am up to date on all my immunizations required for the nursing program, except for one, which my doctor's office explained over the phone as a piece of cake.

Yesterday I talked about how I would have to wait and see just how crazy, big God is.

Once again, He showed me that He is real and personal to me.
The nurse that helped me with my pre-employment process for work didn't have to give me all of the help that she did. She went beyond her job knowing that I needed certain things for school, and I was humbled by it.

There I was getting stabbed with needles like a little puppy and  thanking her each time with a giant smile on my face.
She told me that no one had ever said thank you so much for getting stabbed with needles so often.

I was just happy to get it done.

I'm sitting here, with a giant ache in my left arm from a tetanus shot, and I'm pretty happy about it, not going to lie.

Today's dilemmas and other stories.

Do any of you stress? I know it's a silly question, but do you? Even though I know better I still do it.

If you think about it, it absolutely does you no good to stress over something. 

In fact, stress is linked to a dozen other medical maladies that just make you stress more because you can't stop thinking about this disorder, or that disorder that is caused by all your stressing! This is just a vicious cycle, and unless you realize that your stress is the problem, then you're in a trap.

I know the human heart seems conditioned to worry, but really what does worrying change?

You have a choice to worry. 

I am learning something important these summer months. I want to say that I make good choices all the time, but I don't. This summer has been a summer for me to really learn to trust God in my stress. I know that I can do absolutely nothing to change my circumstances, and honestly, that just lets me see how crazy, big God is. 

I have a week until I have to have somethings turned in for the RN program. Right now I have a job, but it doesn't start until after the deadline to turn these things in. All of these things require money to complete, with no income, I am really having to trust God. I know that He wouldn't allow me  to get accepted into the RN program to have to turn around and walk away from it, and this is where I know a miracle has to happen. When you live a life of faith, and this is something that I've really had to learn this summer, then you are giving God all of the room to work. 

**disclaimer** the stress I am referring to is related to worry or light stress. This is not referring to more serious medical conditions including anxiety or depression. My ideas and opinions are subject to my own experiences.

That awkward moment when...

It doesn't matter where it happens, or when it happens, but if you're in your late 20's, single with no children to speak of...And I mean none, then it's bound to come up.

It's always an awkward moment when someone asks you a question, and you reply with a response that goes against the natural progression of adolescence, then young adulthood, and then finally adulthood (at least in Idaho).

The conversation goes something like this.

Them: Are you married?

Me: Uh, No.

Them: Oh, do you have any children?

Me: Um... Nope.

Them: Oh, a boyfriend then?

Me: Hmm. No.

The last person to ask these series of questions actually interrogated me further by asking "Why".

I was caught quite off guard by her question. I didn't know her well, and my life is pretty much an open book to most people, but I wondered what's wrong with this? Why can't I be in my late 20's and single with no children? Why can't this be acceptable to someone else? Outside of small towns in rural areas, or even Idaho, this might be a normal thing.

I don't think she realized how sensitive of a topic this was for me, or she wouldn't have asked. I remember feeling very uncomfortable, but I don't recall what I told her to soothe her from asking more questions. The room was unbearably hot, and I wanted go somewhere to be alone to ask myself this very same question...Why?

 It is a thought consistently on my heart and mind since the only person I ever gave my heart to broke it years ago. I don't wish this person any ill, or hold angst for them in my heart. I know that he was not the right person for me.

I am thankful God delivered me from the situation before I had the chance to make a wrong decision.

I think a part of me is very much afraid of putting myself out there. I am not a pursuer. I know that for anything to happen God is going to have to smack me in the face with it, or give them a gift of pursing me. 

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about my hearts desire to marry and have children. I see my friends and their families, and I am so happy for them, but a part of me wishes that I could have something similar. 

When I was a child I had a plan.

This plan was to marry in my late teens or early 20's, and have four children by the time I was 30. Ha! I mock the dreams of my younger self, but not out of resentment or regret. I know that my plan wasn't the right plan for my life.  I know that God has had other plans for me. 

I look back at the last five years, and I know that I wouldn't have been able to do all of things I've been fortunate enough to do with a family of my own. My focus would have been completely theirs and rightfully so. 

Still, it doesn't stop my human heart from questioning His plan for me. 

For hoping. 

For wishing.

No, God has had other plans for me. I may not understand right now. I know the next two years of my life will be completely absorbed by the RN program. 

So I wait, and awkwardly watch my daddy try to marry me off in conversations so that he can have grandchildren before he dies... No seriously..this happens ALL the time! Love you dad!

 

From pool house to pool side.

I'm not exactly sure why I was in my pjs until 11 am this morning. At least it was considered morning and not afternoon...Right?

I was doing things that mattered, I suppose. I was busy accomplishing stuff (my college english teacher told me to never use the word "stuff" in writing, but I think since I am not writing a research paper and these words are coming from my head, which may or may not be construed as natural slang/talk..It might be okay. Sorry Ms. Turner if you're reading this. These words are just coming straight from my head and onto this blog, and it's crazy in here!)

The "stuff" I mentioned included moving my some odd 100 bottles of perfume from one shelf to another shelf. Unpacking fingernail polish that hadn't seen the light of day since possibly my middle school days,  and taking care of odd and ends via phone. Important right? 

Well... to me it is. You see, I recently moved out of the pool house I was renting from my family to move into the main house. Some of you might see this as a downgrade, but for me this was an upgrade! It's true that I don' have my own little house any more, but I do still have my own space and a room that would probably be similar to any dorm room I would live in while going to school. I gave up my deluxe apartment for a smaller space, less rent, and the reality that while I'm in the RN program I won't have much of a life. So all these little unimportant things are just a way for me to feel more organized and at home in my own space. 

I am thankful to my family for helping me out. I am realizing now that without their help, going to school would be impossible for me. 

So, as I was helping my sister in law hang up art around the house, I was reminded of the fact that I still had my pjs on by a knock at the door.

Yes, it's 11 am.

Yes, I still have my pjs on.

No, I don't have a good excuse for it.

And now, I'm about to go enjoy a swim and a tan. Something that will soon be coming to an end with school, work, and the summer ending.

Templates, Layouts, and Profiles--Oh my!

I've been entertaining the idea of creating a blog for sometime now. I love writing, and I never shut up about a lot of things, so you can imagine that I would have a plethora of topics to write about.  I've read  headline after headline about how simple it is to create a blog. 

Supposedly it only takes five minutes and bada-bing-bada-boom! You have yourself a blog. Followers, now that's another topic completely

Much to my dismay, this hasn't been the case for me. Insert long dramatic sigh here.

I remember back in the day when blogspot actually owned blogspot. You logged on, entered some information, and there you have it. 

Now google+, and I love google very much don't get me wrong, has made it very complicated to even enter an about me section. 

I've poured hours over tutorials to try and figure this out. I go to "edit profile" in the layouts section, and there is no text box other than the "title" 

If it's simpler than I've made it then I am going to kick myself, apologize to google, and then sadly face the reality that I am getting old and technology isn't a piece of cake anymore.

Ugh!