Me: You don't know who Cindy Crawford is??
10 minutes later..
Tim: My friends tell me she's a model.
Me: You're so French.
Tim: I know. It's pretty bad.
I've been irritatingly sick for almost a whole week, but I will discuss this no further because I know several people who are dealing with serious illnesses that have long surpassed mere irritation.
I talked to Tim on the phone for five hours today. FIVE! I was stuck in bed with the sick, and he was editing a wedding shoot. Take that, long distance. It can be done.
My sister is getting married, did I tell you? I am gaining a very quiet, kind-hearted, upstanding, honorable brother-in-law. I'm even pretty good friends with this guy already! Although I nearly sabotaged our early camaraderie with an unhealthily large dose of sass right before we met for the first time:
My sister was mortified. I just wanted to be buddies! Like right away! We recovered over turkey and stuffing. He appreciates my humor now. I'm pretty sure.
So that wedding will be a fun activity for the Boatwright clan this October.
I have spent the last three saturdays in a classroom for eight hours, and this next one is my last, thank goodness.
When will it be spring? I hate February weather. It makes me snarky.
My friends recorded this song. You should listen to it because it feels like June.
Well, folks, I had my first day of orientation for my Child Life Practicum yesterday. It was great. I learned about hospital alert codes and infectious disease prevention and I got a textbook and made a new friend and got a badge with my name and a poor quality photo of me on it.
I also got some moderately bad news; I have to kill my nose ring.
I know.
You're all weeping over my lost mark of independence and wild self expression and undeniably adorable little sparkle on the right side of my face. Except for my mother. She's probably fist pumping right now with a gleeful smile.
I have until Monday morning at 7.30 am to pull that sucker out of my nose.
Here's to being a sensible adult without any metal in her face. Cheers.
little girl: "Can you marry your dad?" Dad: "No." little girl: "Can brother and sister marry?" Dad: "No." little girl: "Mom said they can, it would just make their kids really sick." Dad: "Let's go."
Dad: "I'm headed to dance practice."
Me: "Dance practice?"
Dad: "Yeah! The elders are doing a line dance to "Achy Breaky Heart" for the seniors ministry's Opry Land themed dinner banquet. I think they're gonna make a video of it and put in on the YouTube just like last time!"
Me: "That's great, Dad."
One day in late 2009, I sat at a kitchen table on Norton avenue with my roommate and helped her compose the perfect "I respect you a lot but don't like you like that and I hope we can still be friends" e-mail to a nice guy in one of her classes who had asked her out.
Months later, Bethany moved out of that house, and then I moved out of that house, and we didn't see each other so much. Then I ran into her a couple weeks ago and she told me she had a boyfriend. I texted her and Emily a few days later to ask if they wanted to grab breakfast this Sunday, to which Bethany replied: "I'M ENGAGED!!!!!"
I took that as a yes to Panera breakfast.
Guess who gave her that ring? The nice guy that I had so carefully helped her reject a year and a half ago. He proposed on their 3 month dating anniversary. They're so excited.
I love it when respect turns to love.
a 26 year old American gal raised in France, now a photographer living in Chicago and married to a man I Iove and admire more every day. We just became parents! I've been blogging since I was 20 years old.
"Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you mean; that is the whole art and joy of words" C.S. Lewis