Currahee- We Stand Alone Together

Today is the 67th anniversary of the invasion of Normandy, otherwise known as D-Day.
For the past 3 years I've made it a tradition to watch the "D-Day" episode of Band of Brothers to remind myself of what just a few of the men who participated in the invasion endured that day.

I've always been the type of person that had a great appreciation for our armed forces. My dad taught me that. He spent 6 years in the Army, found his way into the Special Forces and participated in Operation Urgent Fury. So from an early age, I was brought up with military stories and history lessons from my dad. But it wasn't until a few years ago that the military really struck an interest in me. Our satellite had been shut off for the entire summer and by the time June came around, I had watched just about every movie we owned. All I had left was one box set. Band of Brothers. It wasn't really my type of show, but it was all I had. And my life hasn't been the same ever since.

War is a complicated thing. Young boys will always be the ones doing the fighting. It's a childish game that will never come to an end until the one day that peace will rule all.

No one likes war. But we appreciate the ones who are willing to fight. The men who join face many mortal challenges and fears, and not just the willingness to shoot their weapon at another man, but the small things as well. Before my dad joined the 82nd Airborne, he'd never even flown in a plane, let alone jump out of one. It takes a lot of strength to face life's challenges, not to mention volunteering to face them not only for yourself but other fellow countrymen.

Sometimes days like this make me think, though. I sit here at my desk and look up at my great-grandfather's WWI helmet and the German helmet with which he returned home and I wonder about the hearts that once beat under these metal contraptions.


My great-grandpa Alexander is the one on the middle right. He too was just a boy when he entered the war, and so were the young men they were fighting. Darrell "Shifty" Powers summed up my thoughts in his Band of Brothers interview when he spoke of the men he shot in World War II:

"We might've had a lot in common. He might've liked to fish, yanno. He might've liked to hunt. Of course they were doing what they were supposed to do and I was doing what I was supposed to do. But under different circumstances we might have been good friends."

Sometimes I wonder what kind of man that boy could have grown up to be. I wonder if he had a girl waiting for him to come back to when he was done fighting. All I know is, everything happens for a reason. We don't always understand it when it hurts, but we've always got to have faith. As long as evil exists, war will rage on. And young men will continue to find themselves on the battlefield. And for that I will be eternally thankful.

For those men who serve, we thank you.
And for those men who never made it home to their mothers, words alone cannot express our gratitude.

You Brought Me So Low With Your Ultimate High

I'm not entirely sure how to go about this particular blog, so bear with me. I apologize in advance if I seem a bit unorganized in my thought process, but it's a lot that needs to be processed! I only ask for your patience.

Half a year ago, someone entered my life that completely changed the person that I was, and now that they're gone, I want the old me back. It's funny how life works. Before, I always thought of myself as someone who was too smart for the old tricks that come with the opposite sex. Turns out, life taught me I was wrong. That happens though. In order to learn right, you need a mistake. I've learned and I've grown, and I'm happy for the time we spent together. Right now, at this moment, I'm content at where I'm at. I'm sure things will change like they always do, but I'm just glad to know that it can't get worse than all that it's taken to get to this point. I survived, and I'm strong.

Up until tonight, I had full (one sided) contact with my ex. (I say one sided because even if I talk to him, he wont reply. Yes, it's childish, but he's got some growing to do, too.) We haven't spoken since February, and it has been the longest two months of my life. Up until a week ago, I hadn't seen his face since then, either. (keep in mind we work two buildings away from each other, I'm good friends with his best friend, and our town is very small...it's almost impossible to avoid someone in this town, but he managed it.) For almost a week, I've seen him every day. He always pretends I'm not there. At his work, he's required to greet everyone as they enter the door. If he sees me, he doesn't say a word, and he turns his back. His works bank is across the street from my work, so any time he needs to make a deposit, he makes sure he pulls out of the parking lot and squeal his tires, any time he seems me through the window just to let me know he's still angry.

At first, this really hurt. Knowing I did nothing to deserve punishment, yet being forced to endure it all night long as I would lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering why he was still so angry. I couldn't distract myself with anything anymore, not even baseball. My favorite player had been traded and the one major thing my ex and I had in common was our love for the Cardinals. I felt so alone, knowing that no one could understand why I was so upset. He and I weren't right for each other, that's easy to admit. I'm not bitter or even sad that we parted ways, I'm just upset it had to end in such one sided anger. He's a stubborn person who wont listen to what anyone has to say, if it's against what he feels. He believes his anger is justified, and I don't.

Looking back on it now, I believe he isn't truly angry with me. I think he's angry with himself. He wants to work things out, but in order to do that, he may have to admit that he's wrong, and he being him, wont let that happen. If he lets his stubborn head believe me for just a second, it might show weakness, and it's easier to ignore me and blame his anger on me than deal with his real emotions. He'll grow up one day, I'm sure of it.

Me being the person I am, I need everything laid out in front of me and worked through. Both literally and figuratively. I never got that chance with him. He wouldn't let us work through it, because he believed he was right, and that was that. I was unable to accept this for the longest time. And this is where we come to the point of this blog: "I accept that you're still angry with what I said. I've done all I can do, and there is no taking the burden of hatred from your shoulders. I'm sad for you that you have to carry that with you, because I would like nothing more than to help you, but I realize now that it is your decision and you have chosen to disregard my civility. I wish nothing but the best for you."

That's what I would have texted him (since he would ignore my calls) if tonight were the end. And, my friends, tonight is the end. He posted on facebook that he lost all of the contacts in his phone, and he requested that everyone text him their numbers. I had the choice; text him and let him know my number, or finally letting it go and realizing if I cut the last form of communication we have left, I can finally move on. I realized then that tonight would be the end of my suffering. If he chooses to stay angry, I cannot control that. That was the biggest pill to swallow. So, let me say it again.

I cannot control the way he feels.

I can't make him feel better, no matter how much I would like to. Everyone makes their own choices. This is something I will always struggle with my entire life. I've always been a motherly type to my friends. I've tried to protect them from every bad decision they've come to, and they've never put up a fight...until a few nights ago. A friend of mine is going through a bad roller coaster break up in which she wouldn't listen to a bit of my advice. That was really frustrating for me, knowing she knew the right path but she still took the wrong one. Temptation effects everyone in different ways, but no one had never not taken my advice after so many times she's requested it. It wasn't until she looked at me and said, "Lindsey, I know you want to protect me, but you've got to let me make my own mistakes. I know sometimes I'll regret them, but it's the only thing that will make me stronger" that I realized I try to control people sometimes, out of love. While I don't necessarily agree with that last part, she was right. I need not worry about others mistakes and decisions, but focus on my own.

I've always worried about everyone that I love to an extreme, but lately it's been getting ridiculous. I know I've changed so much in the past six months that it's affected my relationships with others. I'm becoming too protective in fear that they will change in the wrong ways I did. In that relationship, I held back so much. I depended so much on his words to get me through the day. I'm better than that. I kept my mouth shut 98% of the time, and that's not the real me. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. As we've discussed a million times, I believe in honesty, and I was not honest in that relationship by holding everything in. I wanted his approval so badly, I lost my voice.

That's what The Kings Speech is about, finding your voice. I watched that tonight and realized that I still have my voice inside me, it was just suppressed for too long. I even changed the style of music I listened to so I could feel closer to him. Whoever said music is just music and doesn't reflect your personality is wrong. But, tonight I realized this and I'm going to make a promise to myself to be me all the time, no matter what. I'm going to be that confident girl again who didn't need make up to feel pretty or get dressed up just to leave the house, because she had the love of God and she knew He would put the right people in her life when it came time for them to come around.

I'm going to be me again. Watch me.

I'm Growing Old Too Young

Here's to the promise of glamorous living,
You must drink up now, cause it's all that you're getting.
If you haven't been tested, you certainly will,
And I promise it's going to kill.
All I can think of is how much I'd kill to be sleeping.
I'm squinting my eyes, my mind's drifting to secrets I'm keeping.

Nearly a year ago, I made a decision. School was coming to an end for the semester, and I wasn't going to sit in my house all summer. My friend was about to get married and move six an a half hours away, so she was quitting her small town cashier job. Because of this, I figured I'd apply. One of my best friends from High School worked there too, so at least I'd know someone if I was hired. I got the job, and in a month I will have been there a full year.

Before my job, I wasn't exactly a people person. I enjoyed being by myself, and I generally stayed home on the weekends, watching movies alone and reading. I just didn't get along with everyone, and I was okay with that, but I didn't realize how much disdain I had building inside me. At that point, I didn't want to socialize myself with anyone who didn't take care of themselves...because those people were gross.

My job has taught me a lot, and I think of it as a blessing. In a majority sense, my workplace serves those of whom cannot afford brand name products. In layman's terms: We get a lot of undesirable people shopping at our store. Sure, it may sound mean, but it's true. A lot of no-teethed, greasy-haired, "I Gots Muh LINK Cardd", needs-a-motorized-cart-to-get-around kind of people. For the most part, I'm over it. I ring up their groceries, type in the number to their Food Stamps card and hand them their receipt with a smile and a "have a nice day". But some days, I just want to punch a wall.

In our town of less than 10,000 people...everyone knows your business. (It's especially not hard to know your business when every customer tells me their life story, but anyway...) So, it wasn't long before I found out about John's situation. John is a guy who, at first, I didn't mind so much. Sure, his teeth were rotten out of his head and he smelled like who knows what, but he was pretty nice. His wife on the other hand, I wasn't so fond of.

Neither one of them work, but John does odd jobs and stays active by riding his bike everywhere. Together, they had 3 kids. The oldest was a boy, and I promise you...I felt so sad for him. I hate to say this, but my boss nicknamed him 'Porkchop", because he was so large. Keep in mind this little boy is probably 7 years old, and can only fit in his dad's shirts. He wears them like dresses because he can't fit in anything else. After him, they had a middle girl, and their youngest was a toddler who, because of their awful living conditions, had to be on oxygen 24/7.

After I had worked there about 6 months, I noticed John's wife had stopped coming into the store with her children. When I asked my coworker why that was, he told me she had her kids taken away by social services. I was surprised, but so relieved for those children. Turns out, she had "forgotten" to give her toddler oxygen one day and she almost died. She had to be flown to St. Jude's and everything. I thank the good Lord someone stepped in.

There are well...many things I can't stand, but three major things are: ignorant people, rude people, and horrible parents. John's wife, is all of the above. I feel I can't blame -too- much of the situation on John himself because he isn't home much, but he doesn't exactly get off scot-free, either. This family is on food stamps, which I can understand. I have no problem with food stamps in general, its the taking advantage of what you've been given that drives me up the wall. It's like what one of my customers said to me today, "These people on food stamps buy more expensive food than even I can afford!" Which is so true. I would be fine if it were healthier products that cost more money, but please don't complain that you don't get enough food stamp money when I just loaded a dozen boxes of little debbies and ten packages of hot dogs in your shopping cart.

Anyway, back to the story. John's wife would NEVER buy anything healthy with their food stamps. She'd buy the kids as much soda and candy that they wanted, and would always tell them to eat it up before their dad got home. Yeah, nice parenting. Not only that but...this family stunk. And I dont mean, "Oh wow, they smell like B.O." kinda stink...but as in, made your eyes water where you didn't want to breathe kind of rank. I'm sorry, but that's ridiculous. You can't claim "Oh, maybe they dont have money for the essentials..." Yes, they do. They just spend it on things they don't need, like soda when they run out of money on their LINK card.

In my eyes, these parents don't take care of their children, in the health sense, or in loving care. This is why their kids have been taken away. For a while, they could see their children in their new foster home a couple days a week, which I find perfectly good. The kids were being taken care of, and still got to see their parents on a regular basis. Good. Things were all right.

Then I came to work today.

John's wife was sitting on the bench by the door with her mouth wide open like always. (I swear I'm being truthful, not mean.) I clocked in and came back to the front to leave my drink at my register. John was being obnoxious as my coworker was trying to figure out their WIC transactions. Then I thought about it. WIC? (food for Women, Infants, and Children) Why would they be on WIC if they don't have their children with them anymore? I gave my coworker a strange look, and she didn't pick up on it. I waited to ask anything until they left. Once I was sure they were out the door, I asked, "Was she just doing WIC stuff? How can they be on WIC if they got their kids taken away?" She looked at me, rolled her eyes and said, "She just had another kid."

...what?

I can perfectly understand how she got pregnant, that's not the question. My question is...if she, just 6 months ago, was proven a non-fit mother and had her children taken away from her, why does she get to keep this one? I'm all for kids staying with their parents but she hasn't even proven herself enough to get her 3 other children back, and now a newborn is subjected to their style of living. Lord please protect that child.

Things could be worse, yes, I know that. At least John isn't abusive to the kids, or anything like that. He's a good dad, and I'm sure they both love their children very much...but the fact of the matter is, if you can't take care of them, someone else needs to.

I watched from the sidelines for years as my aunt became foster mom to two beautiful little kids. The first, was adopted by a new family, but not before Hayley had been abused and neglected by her mother and grandmother for far too long, and this was just with partial custody! The second, I'm sad to say my aunt passed away the day before she was going to adopt little Max, but he finally found a good home with my aunt's friend, Anita. But even in his situation, his mother signed away her rights to him at the hospital and just left him there, and his father didn't want anything to do with him...yet what did the court keep doing? Trying to give him back to his mother. His drug addict mother who never wanted him in the first place. C'mon, I know it's always best to stick kids with their families, but that's ridiculous. When you sign the papers, it's over. Or at least it should be.

This summer I'm hopefully going to be able to volunteer with social services, to get an idea of what really goes on in there. It's a corrupt world, and a corrupt system, but maybe in time I can make a difference.

You Can Blame It All On Me

I've known all my life to never judge someone on a first impression, and I've also always been taught to follow my first instincts. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

My first impression of you was right, no matter how much I'd like to deny it.

Things don't always go according to plan, that's why you take a leap of faith. My leap couldn't span the space between us, and I failed.

C'est la vie, son.

This ain't a one man gig, and I just can't do it alone.

So, stop hiding.

Look me in the eye when I tell you:

Now it gets personal.

I lied. That movie was awful.
My hair is pretty, and I'm growing it out for a good cause. No, I'm not going to cut it off right now. So shut up. Quit messing with yours, it doesn't make you look as B.A. as you think.
I'm not stupid, so don't laugh at me when I can't comprehend what you said while you're MUMBLING.
Yes, Brendan Ryan and Jason Motte are my favorite baseball players. Stop looking at me like that.
Unlike you, I get paid minimum wage, sorry I'm not up to date on the latest computer software.
Sorry my shoes didn't cost $150, but they're my favorite. Get over it.
My car is dirty? Have you seen your floorboard lately? Yeah, me either.
No, I can't do that. It's called spinal stenosis.
I don't feel bad for you. You're the one who chose to drink too much.
I don't need make up to impress people, I'm not sorry if you disagree.
Just because you wear a cross around your neck & have a tattoo of a bible verse, doesn't mean your beliefs are evident in the way you live your life.
What you do to "be there for your friends", isn't being a good friend, it's a felony.
Yeah, I smelled that cigarette.
You're a bad liar.

There's more to life than what you're doing, and I honestly feel sorry for you.
You're never going to be like him, so stop trying and be yourself for a change. I kinda like that guy. After all, you see what he's had. Who honestly wants that?
Quit running, boy. You're getting no where.
Talk. Yell. Scream. Whatever you have to do.
Stop it, you look ridiculous.
We know the truth.

I'm sorry.

I'm going to miss you, now that you're gone.
But we're meant to play roles in each others lives for periods of time. Some are short, and some are long. Ours happened to be short, but I don't regret it.
I smiled for a while, and that was worth it all.
Even now.

I just needed to say this.
Because I deserve that much.

So go ahead and spit your poison out
Yeah go ahead and take your cheap shots
I've never too proud to sin,
Why don't you rub my face in it.
Yeah go ahead and spit your poison out
Yeah go ahead and take your cheap shots
I've never too proud to sin,
Why don't you rub my face in it.

You walk the walk don't you,
Talk the talk too
But in your heart you died alone
A long, long time ago.

Will the water wash you clean ?
You can take it all out on me.

Dear Sir,

Your presence and participation within the life Lindsey Copeland has been reflected upon and was given careful consideration, but I regret to inform you that your immaturity and lack of sincerity on the topic of human communications have left the author of this note less than amused and therefore you are no longer allowed further contact with said person.

The behavior of which you have exhibited the past few weeks has been somewhat unacceptable. If one wishes to hold their position within the relationship, it is up to him whether or not he be deemed worthy. Your choices as of late are evidence that you no longer wish to be a part of this dual partnership. Because you did not come to Lindsey up front, and instead chose to use an unauthorized middle man, all chances for your return have been terminated.

Your irritability and indifference within the allotted time period, while overlooked in the beginning, has taken a toll on the nerves of those involved. I cannot allow such a person to inflict such negative behavior on his own loved ones. This type of behavior is no longer permitted. To protect the innocent, I must ask you not to push for further answers to your questions and instead ask you to accept this letter as an alternative.

I appreciate your interest, however, and wish you the best of luck with your future endeavors.


Sincerely,









Lindsey Copeland

Always Kiss Me Goodnight

I've grown so tired of this saying over the past couple years. My mom has had a side business of creating hand painted signs like the ones you find in craft stores, for the past 7 years. Therefore, I've been to my fair share of 'primitive shops' and craft stores where this saying has been painted on anything that can make a room more decorative. I've seen this saying so many times that my eye automatically twitches when I see those 4 words, and my mind immediately wants to scream, "THINK OF SOMETHING ORIGINAL". I've seen this phrase for years, and I never realized how much I agree with it, until now.

I've always been the type of person to never leave a situation on bad terms. Even if I'm so angry that I don't feel like looking at the other person, I can't leave them like that. I have my fair share of angry moments, but I always try to keep things calm for the departure. I've always been afraid that one day something will happen to that person when I would least expect it, and my last words to them would be something awful. I couldn't live with myself if that happened. And then it did. Almost.

I've always been proud of some of the photographs I've taken throughout the years. My brother is an artist and my mom is a painter herself, but I had my photography. One day I showed my mother a photo I was immensely proud of. She came in, looked at the computer, and made a face. "You could have got a better angle than that", she said. I just stared at her. My mother is a very emotional lady when it comes to her own things, but when others ask for her opinion, she gives the hard truth. That's just how she is. She's quick to judge without thinking things through. I wont lie, I know she doesn't find my photo's to be all too interesting, but each time I show her a photo I hope she'll lie and tell me how good it is. She never does.

At that point, I was sick of it. I've never been one to shout insults at my parents, or slam my door. I think the worst I've ever done was stomp to my room. But that day I went on a rant about how much she never supports anything I do or enjoy. I was being your typical teenager. She was shocked, to say the least, that I got so upset over a "friendly suggestion". I didn't speak to her the rest of the afternoon, until I was about to leave for work. I purposely avoided all eye contact and said one cold-hearted word, "bye."

It was a normal night at work. Slow, as usual. My coworker, Seth, and I sat around and shot insults and rubber bands at each other. I'm not supposed to, but I had my phone in my pocket that night. My dad called me while I was working, but I didn't think much of it. It was half an hour until we closed so I figured I'd call him back later. Ten minutes went by and we had no customers, so I figured I'd check the voicemail he left me. It was short. It just said, "Hey, give me a call back, I need to talk to you. bye."

Again, I didn't think too much of it. Sure it was strange, but my dad has always been awkward when leaving voicemail messages. Half an hour came and went, and we closed down the shop. I remember that night was rainy, and I took the interstate home. I called my dad as soon as I got in my car. No answer. Called 5 minutes later. Still no answer. I kept calling throughout my 20 minute drive home, but no answer. I assumed his phone had died.

When I got home, our inside dog was out in the pouring rain, soaked from head to toe. I took her inside and I was ready to ask my mom how she forgot about the dog with the weather like it was. I quickly realized I wouldn't be asking that question, because no one was home. I knew I couldn't reach my dad, so I called my mom's phone. A loud vibration carried from the kitchen counter. She'd left her phone at home. Figured. So, I called my brother. No answer. At this point I started to worry. From the time I got off work, until then, I had called my dad 15 times, and my brother 3 times. Finally, on the 4th try, my brother picked up. "Hey, do you know where mom and dad are?" "Yeah, we're at the hospital. Mom's sick, or something. They don't know whats wrong."

20 minutes later, I was walking into the waiting room of the hospital just down the road from my work, where my mom had been for the last two hours. Not much happened that night, but the next couple weeks were a roller coaster of emotions. Not knowing what it was, was the worst. My mom couldn't move for 3 days. Months went by and a million tests later, the doctors concluded it was a stroke. A small one, but a stroke all the same.

That was literally the only day I can remember leaving a situation on bad terms. It just so happened that was the day my mom became severely sick. I'm not the type of person that believes in "live every day like its your last" because if that were the case, rash decisions would be made and people could be hurt in the process. Instead, I believe in loving others like it is their last day on Earth. Don't be afraid to say the words "I love you". In the words of my personal hero, Jon Foreman...

"Love is the movement. Keep moving, amigos."

August evenings bring solemn warnings
To remember to kiss the ones you love goodnight
You never know what temporal days may bring
So laugh, love, live free and sing
When life is in discord
Praise ye the Lord

Funny Thing About Love

There’s a tale an old man once told

When the night was young, but awfully cold

He straightened his back and looked above

And said “There’s something funny ‘bout a thing called love”

He looked in my eyes and raised his glass

“You’re never ready, but you fall fast”

I didn’t believe him, but nodded my head

I thought he was done, but he spoke instead

“Her name was Autumn, like the season of fall

She was lean, keen, tan and tall

She spoke the words I wanted to hear

Her voice could always cast away fear

Her fingernails were the color of crimson red

That was her favorite, from what she said

Her eyelashes were long like her hair was dark

She was, to me, a work of art.”

He looked down at the drink in his hand

“But there’s somethin’ ‘bout a woman that can kill a man

It aint what you think, I’ll make that clear

‘Cause what they call love, aint this, here.

Naw, Love’s got a cousin with a dirty name

He goes by Lust, and he’s purdy vain

I spent all summer with that Autumn girl

Waitin’ on love to come and give me a whirl

But her teeth sunk in and her words ran deep

She told me at the end, I was nothin’ but cheap

I soon found out, those crimson covered nails

Was dried on blood from the other males

They were victims, like I was then

But I was stronger than those other men

Yeah, that’s what I told myself, the moment she ran

With my wallet in tow & my heart in hand

I asked myself ‘Who could truly love me

With a stolen heart & this shell of a body?’”

The old man smiled and gave a little laugh

“That wasn’t the last time I’d ever ask

Funny thing about love, it’s patient and kind

But you fall fast with a girl like mine

Healing wasn’t quick, I was hurt for a while.”

His lips grew long, in a loving smile

He pulled out a picture from his wallet fold

And handed it to me, yellowed and old

“She found me about six years later

I was still broken and wanted to hate her

But just like it says in that bible verse

Love isn’t selfish, not even at first

She won me over with her graceful charm

Those sweet blue eyes could do no harm

We’ve been married some 50 years now

She still gives me butterflies, Lord knows how

Just a touch from her hand to my cheek

Can make me so nervous, I can’t even speak

Our kids look just like her, and are just as caring

I wouldn’t take a second from the time we’re sharing

Funny thing about love is, she’s got good timing

And, yeah, at times she can be a bit blinding

Keep your head on straight, son, and don’t lose sight

Cause in the end, you’ll find your Mrs. Right.”

He gave me a wink and headed out of the bar

And that was the night I was saved from a broken heart

Funny thing about love is, it’s got many disguises

Funny thing about love is, it never compromises.

Honesty- the only true currency

Everyone views everyone else in a different light, right? Well I'm not sure how you perceive me, or anyone else for that matter, but I'm going to tell you who I am. I know I say this a lot, but I truly believe honesty is the best policy. This is me being honest.

My name is Lindsey Rene. My mother originally named me Danielle, but after my cousin was named Danielle, my mom decided on Lindsey. My middle name was chosen because Rene was my mom's best friend in college. I have never met this friend. ...and I hate the name Danielle. (No offense to anyone.)

My parents and I have never been close. The only thing my dad and I have in common is our love for all things military related. My mom and I can tolerate each other only while antique shopping. I'm okay with this. Some kids don't connect with their parents. It happens.

I'm a little strange. Although everyone is a little strange in their own ways, I suppose. I was never the type to fit in with a crowd. I'm much better at blending in now, though.

That's the only lesson I learned in high school; how to blend in. Granted, I still stood out even then, but I knew how to blend in, if needed. I've always loved education and I hope to always be constantly learning new things my entire life, but school was always depressing for me. I'm much happier now.

Since high school, I've started over. My best friend is the only person I associate myself with who knew me then and knows me now. I'm perfectly fine with that. I'm being myself for the first time in my life, and I don't feel judged.

My High School Sociology class changed my life.

I am in love with all things 1940's and 50's. My room is decorated in this fashion. My favorite teacher gave me a map of the 'Pacific Area In World War II 1941-1945" he had in the top of his bookshelf, covered in dust. I took it home & unrolled the canvas and hung it on my wall. I stare at it all the time, wondering what that time was like for those involved.

I'm obsessed with feathers as hair accessories. I own a 1940's hat with rooster feathers that pour out the right side. Best 12 bucks I ever spent.

I'm an avid listener to old records. My collection is small, but growing. There is no one I like to listen to more than The Andrews Sisters, Frank Sinatra, and Elvis. I love the crap out of Irving Berlin and Glenn Miller.

Movies are incredibly important to me. You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite movie. My top two favorites are Everything Is Illuminated, and Big Fish. I'm not a Tim Burton fan, but I love a good story. I hate watching movies alone more than anything. They mean a lot to me, and I like to share that with people. I'm an open book.

Speaking of books, I love to read. Donald Miller is my favorite author, but Andrew Schwab is a close second. I refuse to buy a kindle or anything of the sort because the smell of a new book is the best smell in the world. I never finish a book because then, it's all over, and the wonder is gone.

I'm writing a book.

My biggest fear is forgetting. Nothing specific, just...everything. I never want to forget the people I loved and the people I, well, can't stand. They made me who I am. My Senior year of high school I applied for a scholarship honoring a former teacher who passed away. I never had him in class, but I knew what it was like to lose a loved one, and to let them live on through you. I wrote about this in essay form, and I ran into my old History teacher (one of the judges of the essay contest) months later at a wedding. He had tears in his eyes as he quoted a line from my essay. That former teacher was his best friend, and he said my essay meant more to him than I knew. I won the scholarship, but I hope to never forget that moment. I've been so blessed throughout my life, and I never want to forget that.

I use photography as an outlet for that fear. Sometimes people tell me I should make this my career, but I couldn't charge people for doing something I love so much. Plus, then I'd have to buy a pro camera, and who has the money for that?! I kid. ...but, seriously.

I paint my fingernails when I need a change in my life. Exciting, I know, but it makes me smile.

Although most of everything I own right now is red, my favorite color is green. I just think red is a classy color.

I will always call Indianapolis "home" when speaking of it, even though I didn't grow up there.

I've been able to crochet since I was 9. I'm an old lady at heart.

I'm easily annoyed, but I get over it pretty quickly.

I wish I could keep a straight face when I'm angry, but I love to laugh.

On days that I work with my assistant manager, I have to call someone on the way home because he doesn't speak to me all day, and I love to talk.

I don't wear jeans at home. I don't even know how many pairs of pajama pants I actually own.

I love my hair. I wont lie. It took me two years to get to this length, and its going to take me a couple more to grow it out when I chop it all off for Locks of Love.

I wish I knew how to cook, but I'm afraid to attempt it because my parents would insist on trying whatever i fixed, and I don't want to fail and look like an idiot.

It still hurts my feelings when my old friends roll their eyes when I talk about anything sports related. I would say "I'm sorry for discovering something that makes me happy", but I'm not.

I love God, but can't stand my church.

I'm not afraid to say any of this, because it's true. I always want to stay true to myself, and I wish that everyone else felt the same, but it takes baby steps. This is who I am. Who are you?