You can blame Promise...

My incredibly talented friend Promise wrote a blog about Willow and how she has quickly become a style icon at just 9 years old. There is no denying that this girl has got some style!

The song will get stuck in your head.

I first heard it on The Ellen Show a few weeks ago and it DEFINITELY gets stuck in your head.

Enjoy. :)

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You call this friendship?

Disclaimer: I have been working on this blog in my head and heart for about a month, but haven't had the guts to type it out and press the "publish post" button at the bottom of the text box. This post may ruffle some feathers, may cause some people to question who it is that I am writing about, and may even hurt some feelings. My intentions are NOT to hurt feelings, but to simply share mine, as i know that I am not the only one who has these wounds.

Moving half-way to Nashville, only to turn around in San Antonio, was one of the hardest seasons in my life. I have been home for about two and a half years and there are times when it still pains me to think about that whole season. Let's journey back a bit...

I left some amazing friendships in Seattle to head to Azusa. Azusa didn't happen because of money, so I headed to San Diego, feeling very sad and lonely. Eventually, I made new friends, reconnected with old friends, and moved on. I then left some great friendships in San Diego to head to Chandler. I had the best of both worlds while in Arizona seeing as how I flew home every week 5 out of the 15 months that I was there. I left some wonderful friendships in Arizona to move to Nashville to chase a dream. I left the friends in Nashville hanging while I returned to San Diego. The return to San Diego was harder than I ever could have imagined.

You see, I am somewhat of a drifter, and I know that it can be hard to be friends with someone who is always on the go. But it can't be that hard.

I left Seattle in 2004 yet some of my best friends still live in Seattle and our friendship has only gotten stronger over time. In fact, I would say that some of my best friends don't live in San Diego. We are all spread out. Washington, Arizona, Tennessee, South Carolina and all over the great state of California... we are all over the place. Whether it is 5 or 5,000 miles between us, we make the effort. If someone or something is important, you will make the effort.

Since moving back to San Diego two and a half years ago, and even more so in the past year, it has broken my heart as friendships, here in San Diego, have just died. I tried friendship CPR over and over and over again, only to look up to see a flat-line in front of my face. It is like mourning the loss of someone that isn't dead but is simply no longer in your life and lives less than 30 miles away.

There are only so many times that a person can initiate coffee dates, shopping trips, road trips, bon-fires, concerts, happy hours, church visits, etc before you have to give up. The reality is, my heart can't take another "let me check my calender", "Oh, I am busy that day but maybe next month", or no response at all. I can stand with my head held high knowing that I tried, and more than just once.

I write this post with tears in my eyes and a heavy heart. I see the faces of these friends in pictures around my room, in memories in my head and heart, and it just makes me sad. I get it, life happens, times change, friendships change and move forward, but it doesn't take the sting away. In fact, I never thought that I would compose a post like this about these particular people. It seems surreal. I wish it was a dream but it isn't. It is reality.

Writing this has also forced me to check myself. What kind of friend have I been? Have I texted you just to see how you are doing? Have I sent you a card or note to let you know that I have been thinking of you? Did I respond to that e-mail that you sent to me? Did I RSVP for your event or did I just leave you hanging? Maybe you should ask yourself the same questions... I know that I can't answer yes to every single one of those questions in regards to every person I call friend. Again, I can stand with my head held high knowing that my friends know that I love them. I don't leave them guessing. And if I am wrong in writing that statement, PLEASE, correct me.




I know that this post seems a little "Debbie Downer" and I am sorry, I just needed to write. I needed to write for me, and hopefully for one of you readers as well. Know that I am working on a few blogs that will bring sunshine and smile faces back to this blog. xoxo

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Open Mouth... Insert Foot

As some of you know, I switched jobs in September.
I am much happier these days, it is amazing what a healthy and positive work environment can do for your spirit.

Well, I am basically living the movie Billy Madison. I am in a First Grade classroom all day. Everywhere they go, I go. Including field trips. :)

Today, I was out supervising lunch, as I always do. The kids were ready to be excused to go to recess. One student in particular asked to be excused to go to recess, and I told him to pick-up some trash and then he could go. He said he didn't want to pick up trash.

Side note: The students read a book about being a "bucket filler" at the beginning of the year in PE. The book talked about doing things for others, being kind, and taking care of the environment. Since then, staff have been asking students if what they do and say make them a "bucket dipper" or a "bucket filler".

When the student said he didn't want to pick up trash, I then asked him, or tried to ask him, if he was a "fucket biller". Yup, you read that right. FUCKET BILLER. I freaking transposed the F and B at the worst possible time.

All of the kids laughed, I was mortified and had to walk away.

Are you a Bucket Filler?

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Lady A does it again!

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Vampire Roommates

I lived in Chandler, Arizona for over a year.
I am glad none of my roommates were vampires.

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Addicted...

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