Randi

The Stranger

I was walkin'
down the road
when a Stranger passed me by;
Beat and bruised,
and crowned with thorns
with a pierced and bleeding side.

He walked that road for me...
He took my sins and set me free...
He walked that road for me...

Strangers pressing
in on Him,
surrounding on all sides.
Could this really
be the One:
the Savior from on high?

Some were crying,
some were cheering,
on the crowded streets.
"Father forgive them
for they know not
Who it is they beat!"

No grave nor death,
nor boulder large,
could keep Him down for long.
He is Jesus,
Son of God!
To Him I do belong!

Murraysville

"There IS no Murraysville in Tennessee! We looked everywhere!" -Randy
"Yes, thar is."
"Just out of curiosity, what was Jesus' mother's name?"
"Murray."

Pokerdots and Moonshine (rewritten to the tune of "Polkadots and Moonlight")

A country dance was being held in a garden
I felt a tap and heard a "Sir, would you like one?"
Suddenly I saw pokerdots and moonshine
all around a glass of wine

The music started and was I the perplexed one
I drained my glass and said "May I have a third one?"
In my starry eyes pokerdots and moonshine
all around that glass of wine

There were questions in the eyes of other dancers
as again I asked for one more
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers
it said per-haps just one more

Now here I join in with the poker and laughter
I hear the constant warning of "Please talk softer!"
Now too all my friends see pokerdots and moonshine
all around their glasses of wine

My country ranch was being sold at an auction
It seemed my troubles came all too often
But I know the cause - pokerdots and moonshine
made me lose this life of mine.

An Entry from my Journal: Trip to Argentina

Mwaha. My grandfather said that he wants me to take our dvd player, but I'm finding that my carry-on is a bit smaller than I reckoned with.
And darn. I forgot to eat breakfast. I get too excited and then don't eat... Or I subsist on salad... THAT'S been done before.
:-)

On the plane, I won't be sitting by Gabe; he's a few seats back.

He said something offensive a few minutes ago in a joking manner, and when I responded that I was happy that I didn't have to spend the next 12 hours sitting next to him on a plane, he said, "You're gonna WISH you were sitting next to me when some 300 pound guy sits next to you who reeks of body odor and won't stop hitting on you!" LOL

On looking for a pair of shorts for myself with Gabe trailing behind me in the store, we saw a mini skirt on the rack. He stopped, shocked, and said, "Oh look! A dust rag! People are paying money for those things?"
LOL

11:27pm. 7/18/07.
Passing through the Caribbean w/Cuba on the left and Belize on the right.

NOTE TO SELF: 12:11pm.
Push the bathroom door IN. Otherwise, you spend an eternity in the hallway in your pajamas looking like a fruitcake.

1:14am. 7/19/07.
Weee.... We're turning. I love planes!

1:15am. 7/19/07.
Frank Sinatra isn't nasal voiced, but he sounds kinda funky coming from the earphones of a guy two seats over...

1:24am. 7/19/07.
This is my third episode of House, and I love it.

2:03am. 7/19/07.
I hate planes.

8:12am. 7/19/07.
They're awesome during the day, though! You can see for miles.

8:42am. 7/19/07.
My watch says it's 6:42, but BA is two hours ahead. Going to be a gorgeous day. After all, they're serving fruit and COFFEE.

8:45am. 7/19/07.
I looked in the mirror and scared myself silly. Looked like a raccoon.

8:49am. 7/19/07.
Country music! You get your own tv and earphones and remote, and the tv has different shows you can watch, as well as audio, where you can listen to different stations. Nice. I'm listening to the Country music station right now and I believe it's Garth Brooks...
Nearing BA.
There is absolutely no where to put one's head on a 12 hour plane flight in very uncomfortable straight-backed, over-stuffed, overly-crowded seats. Gr. And gosh, my body says it would just now be adjusting to life, as I'd be drinking coffee and reading my Bible about now. lol

8:56pm. 7/19/07.
I hate Gretchen Wilson.

12:26pm. 7/19/07.
Our bus leaves for La Cumbre (from here in BA) at 10pm. We got ten hours to waste here! Gr.
The people are all interesting, and I think they're mostly nice. They've been quite helpful. Though.. they can't seem to GET the fact that I don't SPEAK SPANISH. Can you read the words that are comin' outa my mouth?! No Hablo Espanole!
This guy just came up and started asking me in Spanish some question about a building he was looking for or something... All I could do is smile and shake my head. And tell him I didn't speak Spanish. But we've already established how well THAT works!
Gabe is trying to figure out how long it will take to get to Le Cumbre, but we can't get a hold of our friend Esteban.

INTERNET SPOTTED.

2:52pm. 7/19/07.
Argentinians don't worry about matching, apparel-wise, and it's really ticking me off.
I think I'm doing pretty well, considering the fact that I got 2 hours of sleep last night!
Interesting. There was a huge group of people gathered on one side of the park as we passed, and upon closer inspection, we discovered that they were dancing and singing "Allelujah" over and over again. Quite a few of them had guitars and they were all in a huge circle, singing a Spanish worship song. So cool!

"Good morning, beautiful..." just came on the cd player. I love that song! If I close my eyes, it's like a peaceful refuge from the largest city in Argentina... Sigh.

6:57pm. 7/19/07.
Gabe and I got cold sitting outside in the park, so we went and got a cup of hot coffee. Yay! Cafe con leche. (Coffee with milk) However, I played my fiddle at the park for lots of people before we left and they took pics with their phones and stuff. My style is so different from theirs that I'm not sure if they liked it or just thought it was cool because it WAS different.
Now I can say I've played in BA!
Since Mr. Gabe and I have had so much time on our hands, we've fashion-watched.
Younger guys don't "do" hats. Though I did see one with a hat like Aaron's and did a double-take. Hats down here are for geesers. And guys like the classy-casual style: jean jackets, button-up shirts, designer jeans, and nice shoes. Except that they don't usually fix their hair or button their shirts or roll their jeans up so they don't get holes in them, so I call it the sloppy-casual look. Heh.
Girls like stripes; jeans that make you wonder how they got them on (possibly spray-paint?); rolled cuffs; high heels with jeans; faded clothing. They don't usually fix their hair either, just like the guys. Also, girls like leg wraps, kind of like polo wraps for horses! LOL And trench coats. Heeh.

I'm reading Mrs. Pollifax and the Lion Killer. I like this one.

What I like about this interesting culture is that they actually start milling around and running errands about at about 7 in the evening and are up 'til really late. Best part? They sleep late too. Everyone does!
(And I'm cheering them on.)

10:49pm. 7/19/07.
Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition! I mean, praise the Lord, we finally have a good bus and comfy seats!! YAY!!
Goodnight!

"Old ladies are the same the world over: sweet and incompetent!" -Gabe

8:54am. 7/20/07.
I don't get motion sickness easily, but GOSH this bus is making me miserable. If I ignore how I feel though, the country is very gorgeous! Cold, but golden brown with fallen leaves, and strangely enough, lots of evergreens.
The few houses we're passing are very European.

8:58am. 7/20/07.
We're in the mountains! Rather, on the edge of the mountains where snow perpetually exists. It's getting colder.

10:22am. 7/20/07.
Destination finally reached! Boy, is it cold here or WHAT! And I forgot my jacket jacket. I mean, I brought a jacket, but not a good one.
Uh, something else I forgot: in greeting, everyone kisses everyone's cheek. Which means I've got to kiss guy's cheeks and stuff, and that's just a bit of a qualm with me.

Besides that, the guys are so gentlemanly, I almost don't know what to do! They carry your bags, open doors, say ma'am, (in Spanish), wow!
LOL

FUNNY QUOTE: "Argentinian germs are very dangerous. I think we should make it a 3 second rule."
Gabe, when I dropped a cashew on the hotel floor.

Fiddle Camp Performance

As the audience sits forward in their uncomfortable seats, really looking to avoid pain, but appearing to be waiting impatiently for the show to start, Randy Elmore and Wes Westmoreland, III walk out in all their splendor of jeans, tennis shoes, and button up the front beach shirts.An elderly man in the row in front of us leans over to his wife and whispers:
"They HAD money, but they spent it all on clothes."

Would You Like to Play the Guitar?

Would you like to play the guitar?
Carry money home in a jar
From a coffeehouse or a bar,
Or would you rather get a job?


A job is the thing that makes you get out of bed
And work every day until you're dead.
Your back is achin' and your brain is numb
And you just can't wait until the weekend comes.
But if you don't want to starve or beg or rob
You're gonna have to get a job


Or would you like to play the guitar?
Drive for miles and miles in your car
And pretend that you're a big star?
Or would you rather book the gig?


The agent's the guy who takes his twenty percent.
What he says isn't always what he meant.
He'll clean you out in ways you never thought
Because he's good at business and he knows you're not.
And then he'll sue if you ever make it big
Cause he's the guy who booked the gig.


Or would you like to play the guitar
For a living ~ hardee-har-har!
I'll admit it's kind of bizarre.
Or would you rather be the wife?


The wife is the one who has to rescue our butts.
She's either a saint or else she's nuts.
She gets impatient and she gets annoyed
Cause she's the one who must remain employed.
And by the way if you want to wreck your life
Become a gittar player's wife


Cause all the monkeys aren't in the zoo.
They can be trained to play guitar too.
Some do a whole lot better than you.
But even if you don't go far
You could be worse off than you are.
At least you're playing your guitar.

It's Never Enough

Daddy said that she said
I will always hate you

She said that he said
we will never make it through

and everything is destitute
everything is falling out
everything is never enough
and when things are goin’ rough
we

Give up and give out
and end what we just began
and it’s never enough...
it’s never enough
to just be loved.

She said that he said
drama is so pitiful

But he said that she said
drama is so beautiful

And all we do is follow suit
all we do is go around
being tough
ignoring love and when things are goin’ rough
we

Give up and give out
and end what we just began
and it’s never enough...
it’s never enough
to just be loved.

Allie's Dream: Escape from California Prison Camp

I sat with my back against the slimy, wet, green stone wall and watched the other prisoners talk in quiet tones. A few people slept here and there but it was hard to get comfortable with 24 beings in a tiny over-grown prison cell. It was cold; I rubbed my arms to circulate blood. A table sat in the middle of the cell and a few men were gathered around it, deep in serious conversation. I stood, stretched my sore legs, and tried to remove some of the mud off my worn cargo pants. Just days earlier they had been brand new from Target, but now, a few hundred miles of muddy roads later, they looked about as old and worn as a pair of pants could look. I moved toward the group of men.
“There’s the women and children to think about though! We can’t just leave them.” “We could come back for them.” “And risk them being beaten alive or worse?”
They noticed me and their conversation halted abruptly. “Alexandra.” One of them nodded at me. I nodded back and stepped confidently over.
“I can get you a cell phone.” I had been waiting for this opportunity to arise. Nobody had yet talked about escape, and here was my chance to help. They looked incredulously at me.
“How do we know you can do it?” “Yeah, you might get us killed.”
I looked at them with a serious face. “Trust me. I want to get out of here as much as the next person, and without a cell phone, you won’t get anywhere.”
There was a moment of silence and hesitation on their part, and finally one of the men stuck out his hand with a resolute face. “Name’s Mike. I heard Ben call you Alexandra?”
I nodded. Mike was tall and looked like a giant next to Ben. Somehow I knew Ben from somewhere, at some point we’d met earlier in life. We knew each other, in any case, and that left one other man unknown to me. He stepped forward, his longish blonde hair swaying. He nodded curtly and held out his hand. I shook it. “Collin.”
And so, it began. Collin, Mike, Ben and I stood in a group, discussing the Second Great Escape from persecuting, back-stabbing Marine soldiers.
I remember feeling very fulfilled, like my life was helping. Like the pieces that had so long been floating about my life were finally falling into place.
A large hole was dug, in between warnings of “They’re coming, sit on the hole” or “Here comes lunch, quick; hide it.” Eventually, throughout a stretch of about 4 days, the hole grew big enough for the largest of our company to squeeze through. It curved up and around, leading out of the stale prison cell air into the overgrown prison camp. We didn’t know why we’d been forced to travel from Texas all the way to California by foot. We didn’t know why we were forced to lay low in an unused prison camp for a few weeks. We didn’t know why Marines were taking hundreds of people captive and forcing manual labor. But we did know we wanted out. We wanted to warn others; to bust this operation.
I was the first one out. It was dark outside, and I had to overcome my fear of pitch black nights to crawl out of that hole. I flattened myself against the wall immediately and stood perfectly still for over five minutes. It was raining, to make things worse, and when I finally moved, my legs were covered in mud spattered up from the ground. I leaned over and remembered lessons on clearing a space from behind something. There was not much activity at all. I took note of one guard standing off by himself in a dark corner, and then something else caught my eye. Resting on a stretcher in the rain, clothed in red blankets, was an elderly African American woman, her eyes closed in sleep and her hands gripping something. I could not tell what it was. A man stood leaning against a tree a few feet away, whip in hand, his head nodding to his chest in exhaustion. My mouth dropped open.
So this was Mable.
This was the abused Mable, the Mable who received lashes from a whip every time someone did something wrong. The Mable who never cried out, who never remained ever close to her God. The Mable everyone loved and trusted.
I knew we couldn’t leave her. But I didn’t know how we would rescue her; I just knew she wouldn’t survive much longer if left here to bleed, sleeping in cold rain and eating broth once a day.
I signaled through the tiny cell window that it was clear if they were careful. One, two, and then three women came out, then a man. I pointed toward a path I’d already scoped out and ran down mentally. I nodded, smiled encouragingly at the women, and they flew down it like ghosts. They were completely silent. As they reached the broken down, mossy fence line, they disappeared through a man-sized hole. I looked up at the black sky and thanked God.

A few from my senior photoshoot...

Photos From MSBC 2008

Us singing "Stand By Me" yeah that was FUN.

Brenden, Logan, me, Jeff, and Chaz

Christy, Eileen, Holly, Celestia, Rene'e, me, Lydia's hair haha, Chelsea, I dunno who that is, Josie, and Kara. Christy and Kara are counselors. Oh, and the sneaks at the top? I don't know the guy on the left but the one on the right is Scott. Haha. We didn't know they were there.

We turned in all our cell phones and stuff. We claimed we were the most honest cabin at camp! :D

Miss Randi Renae wearing my hat. ;)

And that's Lexie, Jeff, and Andrew. :)

Life, Love, and the Pursuit Thereof

Well, I guess it's been too long since I blogged last. I can't remember how.
lol

On Thursday, Tony had his last devo with us before he went back to Arkansas. On Friday, I went to Randi's house to celebrate Tony's birthday. It was funny, only Jeff showed up while I was there, and I was there from 7 to 9:30pm. Dave and Annie showed up to pick me up, and Jeff, Randi, me, and Tony were all sitting on the porch laughing and talking and gathering around the fire. They kinda laughed. Just as I was leaving, a few other people arrived and apparently after I left the bonfire was started.

Fireweed=Purple.

I call Fireweed Purple, not Fireweed.

Tony got a kick out of that. "Did you just call that Purple?" Yes indeed i DID!

"Bella? That's the name of the girl in the movie?" -Chuck (my boss)

"The daughter. Yes." -me

"That's like.. naming a boy Clang." -Chuck

Notes on Modesty

Annie and I are putting together a class on modesty that will last four weeks. I'm going to stick the outline on here.

POINTS TO MAKE (in no particular order)

• Definition of modest/modesty/discretion:
  To be discreet: prudent; wise in avoiding error and in selecting the best means to accomplish a goal; circumspect; courteous; polite; honest dealings.
• A time and a place for certain clothing.
• What is our goal when we dress immodestly?
• Being discreet starts with clothes and does not stop with behaviour.
• You can dress attractively w/o being immodest.
• Let's not walk the line of modesty/immodesty, let's run from it.
• Guys aren't saying we have to cover up every bit of skin. (I.o.w., no burkhas!) They just want our honest and simple help.

A FEW STATISTICS (www.therebelution.com/modestysurvey/)

• Out of 1,211 guys of all ages, 1,179 voted in a recent survey on modesty that a girl can be attractive and modest at the same time. That's 78%!
• 387 out of 428 voted that modest girls make a big difference and are noticed.
• 934 out of 1236 voted that they have more respect for a modest girl. Only 144 were neutral.

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

• Why do we dress immodestly? Is it insecurity? Peer pressure?
• What is one thing we can change? (Notebook paper is needed for this.)

IF you were saved before baptism...

Here are a dozen Bible proofs that it is impossible for you to be saved before your obedience to Christ's command to be immersed in water. Quotes in this study are from the NIV.

• You were saved before your sins were forgiven.

"Peter replied: Repent and be baptized everyone of you, in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." --Acts 2:38

• You were saved before your sins were washed away.

"And now what are you waiting for? Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on His name." --Acts 22:16

• You were saved before you were born again.

"Jesus answered, 'I tell you the truth, unless a man is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.'" --John 3:5

• You were saved before you were joined with Christ.

"...for all of you who were united with Christ in baptism have been clothed with Christ." --Galatians 3:27

• You were saved before you were saved.

"and this water symbolizes baptism that now saves you also..." --1 Peter 3:21

• You were saved before the time the Lord promised He would save.

"Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned." --Mark 16:16

• You were saved before you were freed from your sin by obedience to God.

"But thanks be to God that, though you used to be slaves to sin, you wholeheartedly obeyed the form of teaching to which you were committed. You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness." --Romans 6:17-18

• You were saved before you entered into Christ and without His blood.

"In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace." --Ephesians 1:7

• You were saved before your soul was purified.

"Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth..." --1 Peter 1:22a

• You were saved before you received the Holy Spirit, and without belonging to Christ.

"We are witnesses of these things, and so is the Holy Spirit, whom God has given to those who obey Him." --Acts 5:32 "And if anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ." --Romans 8:9b

• You were saved before your faith had any value, before it expressed itself in love.

"...the only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love." --Galatians 5:6

• You were saved before obedience which Jesus required for all who receive eternal salvation.

"Although He was a son, He learned obedience from what He suffered, and once made perfect, He became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey Him." --Hebrews 5:8-9

(C) 1987 Star Bible, Ft. Worth, Texas 76118 By Alvin Jennings

Tonight's Bible Class

Wednesday night Bible study at the church building.

What do you bring to math class when you attend?
A math book, right? Right.

What do you bring to Bible class when you attend?
A Bible.

Out of the 16 kids attending the Bible study, 5 of us had brought a Bible. Of the five, ONE was a guy. Think about it. The men are going to be the spiritual leaders, not the women. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

This evening, we were given blank sheets of paper and instructed to write:

P
S
C

vertically; all papers would remain anonymous.

Our teacher then said to put a "y" or a "n" for yes or no next to it when he said what they stood for.

"For the p, did you pray this week at least three times, not including meals or church; for the s, did you study the Bible at least three times this week, not including Bible studies with someone else or church studies; for the c, did you cuss this week?"

10 prayed. 6 didn't.
3 studied. 13 didn't.
9 cussed. 8 didn't.

Thirteen didn't study? THIRTEEN?! How convicting is that? Very, to me.

Do Hard Things. Study your Bible.
And next time, bring it to class.

Just feelings..

You smile to cover up the lies

and you're dying deep inside.

Every time you say you care,

no one else can see your stare,

or will ever know you dare to lie.

2008 Family Retreat, Hico Texas

Kitchen conversation:
"Yeah, just take a blue pill or a red pill!"- Gabe
"What was that from?"- me
"When did that happen?" - Mrs. New
"When did what happen?"- me
"It's from the Matrix"- Gabe
"Oh, yeah. I've never seen it, but Bryan said it was creepy."- me
"He did? I can't imagine anyone thinking that movie was creepy. Silly, but not creepy." -Mrs. New
*que strange look from Gabe*
"Yeah, it could be described as creepy...."- Gabe
"I didn't think it was THAT creepy!"- Mrs. New
"You WATCHED that?"- me
"Watched what?"- Mrs. New
"The Matrix!"- me
"Oh, no! I thought we were talking about the Princess Bride!"- Mrs. New
"Yeah, that was SO creepy."- Gabe
"I'm telling you, those R.O.U.S.'s will positively scare you to death!"- me

Quiet Time

Well, it's quiet time for me.

Meaning, daily, I find something to do where I don't have to talk, listen to anything, watch anything or do anything. I usually read, but at the moment, I'd rather write.

Midnight Sun Bible Camp is coming up, and I can't wait. It will be soo much fun. The only part I'm a lil' nervous about is the whole bathing-in-the-lake thing... I mean... ouch? Washing your hair in lake water? Ew. But Randi says even though it sounds nasty, it's quite fun and you really do get clean, provided you use lots of soap. (Uh, huh.)

I'm leaving the house early tonight to go hang out with Jessica Salyer (new girl in the youth group) at the church building. We're just gonna talk and sing and get to know each other.

Yesterday, I rode my bike to the Northway mall here in town. The trip there was similar to biking on Mars. To say the least, it was bumpy and uncomfortable. In fact, it could be likened unto driving in Oklahoma.

Ouch.

Well, I'm off to watch some tv or read or do something quiet and relaxing.

Adios,

Vaya con Dios.

Oh, dear.

"Annie goes to the jail on Saturdays, Dave goes to the jail on Mondays, and sometimes on Sundays."
"Boy. That's what you call organized crime."
(A quote from the phone call Katie made to me last night.)

Do Hard Things

If you

ALWAYS DO

what you've
ALWAYS DONE,

you will

ALWAYS GET

what you've

ALWAYS GOT.

DO HARD THINGS.

Be a Rebelutionary.

Picture Post

This is everyone hanging out at the church building. We had too much fun. it was only for like, 45 minutes, too. But the sun was perfect for photos!

Photography - SUBJECT: Small Towns

My Daddy Will Come Back for Me

See that stuffed bear over there?
Daddy gave that to my care
before he died so suddenly..
so suddenly I couldn't breath.

And that picture over there,
the little girl with long brown hair?
Yeah, that's me.
And that Daddy...

Why does life have to be so hard
and why does it leave you with so many scars?
Why do the butterflies fade...?
Life changes with every new day.
Give me time, you will see...
My Daddy will come back for me.

Statistics

The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four persons is suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of your three best friends -- if they're okay, then it's you.

A Poem of the Seasons

Summer laughs its way
out the door, greeting
Fall as it goes, the latter
is met by us with smiles
and laughter, friends, no foes
ever to be found
on this dry abode full
of people waiting to
ease their load
and be loved and abound
in love. Winter will soon
whisk away all color and
leave tints as pale as the moon.
Wildlife will be stilled,
though just for a moment,
and some of the more strong-willed
shall show their faces,
and as much as they love these places,
they'll move on,
singing and loving in their own
special way,
leaving memories after they're gone.
Then spring will wrap
its beautiful arms around winter's
cold self and melt the ice
and snow, and produce flowers ready
for the picking,
while we embrace a new year, sticking
to memories and resolves;
for another stepping stone
has been met.
Not alone, with Him we travel on our way,
with new thoughts andchoices every day.
Then Summer will
laugh its merry, hot way
back around the world and
leave things dry and still.
And life will go on,
though we do wrong or are wronged,
forgive and forget.
There's always more to sing,
Always another song.

That Dumb Horse

By Allie Billings & Camden Lawless

Many people, when asked to recall their first experience with horses, will tell some outrageous falsehood about a pleasant sojourn on their Grandfather’s quaint farm, or perhaps a 'city slicker' trail ride complete with safety helmet.
However, the few who tell the truth will recount a harrowing experience about some stupid hunk of wild animal under their rear that took them on a roller-coaster ride they have tried their hardest to forget but somehow can't because of the necessity of weekly visits to the chiropractor. This story falls into the latter category.
It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, and a cool breeze wafted through the car window along with the exhaust from passing diesel trucks, which greatly subdued the fresh scent of spring. We were on our way to the ranch.

Before I continue, I should explain who the “we” is. There was my Grandmother, (who has equinaphobia), my little niece Gabriella, Aunt Halcyon, and myself.

"Can I ride the horsie?" asked Gabby.
"Gabby, did you know horses eat people?" I returned.
"Allie!" Halcyon glared at me in the back seat and I feigned innocence.
"How long will we be out there?" My grandmother didn't mind going to the farm, but she knew it was going to get hot more quickly than she liked. It was Texas, after all!
"Long enough to feed. Maybe Ali can ride, too." Halcyon answered, rolling her window up as a truck full of stench, commonly known as cows, passed.
"Ride?" My grandmother turned to Halcyon. "Oh, maybe she shouldn't. Not today..."
"Aw, come on! I've never ridden. Just this once? Please? Please?" My grandmother, as I said before, has that problem of Equinaphobia. In fact, the doctor just diagnosed her with it. (Sadly, they don't have any medication.)
My Aunt has a theory that has been tested in labs across the world and proven in the field of science: whenever my Grandmother comes out to the ranch, something happens.
Something bad, and it usually happens to me. (Last time... Oh, I won't go there. Forget I said anything.)
We think she transmits nervous signals to the horses, causing them to act irrationally, even stupidly.
When we arrived at the ranch, the horses had already assembled at the stables.
Aunt Halcyon’s horse, Starbuck, (named for the character in Battlestar Galactica) was waiting near the feed shed, hanging out with his buddies.
You must understand that Starbuck is not a normal equine. He’s a mustang, with a very sweet, laid-back temperament.
Therefore, deciding to prove to everyone that I knew exactly what I was doing, I slid onto this sweet Starbuck while he was eating his food. What I hadn’t noticed until it was decidedly too late, was that this horse didn’t have a bridle, or a halter or . . . anything. I was suddenly grateful that Aunt Halcyon had insisted on my donning one of those “stupid” riding helmets.The horse I had just slid onto was rather large. In fact, the best description I can come up with at the moment is a propane tank on stilts. (I'm raising the funds to buy an elevator as I write.)
To this day, I don’t know what started them, but the other horses took off as if someone had pulled the gate on race day, and Starbuck wasn’t about to be left behind. Whether or not there was someone sitting on his back.
I was triumphantly gazing about at the shocked and awe-struck faces of my envious relatives, when this Starbuck stopped feeding his greedy self and turned rather abruptly and started to trot away. I was... er, not so triumphant. I'm pretty sure I looked a little desperate at this point.

"Throw your leg over his withers!" Halcyon yelled to me.
"What the heck are withers?!" I screamed back, being mercilessly jossled around.
"Just slip off! No, no, NO! NOT LIKE THAT! You'll kill yourself!" I think my aunt gave up and figured I'd fall off sooner or later, for she didn't say anything else.

The ones who were safely on the ground assured me that it was not a big trot, but I was sure I was on some sort of a maniac earthquake simulator.
My yell started low enough, but quickly worked up into something a little better than a shriek for mommy. The Earthquake started moving faster, and I clutched at its mane, determined that I was going to fall off with dignity. (I've since learned that, 1, the hardest thing about riding a horse is the ground, and 2, there is no dignified fall.)
Around me, I was dimly aware of all the other horses gathering around to view the spectacle that was me. I glanced back just in time to see my beloved aunt doubled over in great consternation for my safety. There were tears streaming from her eyes. However, I did feel a little hurt when I realized she was laughing at me.
Starbuck was veering left and right, obviously deciding it would be funnier if I wove back and forth on his back like a drunk than if I were able to preserve a little of my self-esteem. His ears were alert and happy the entire two minutes that it took me to experience this thriller of a ride, which I have since copyrighted and submitted to the board of directors at Six Flags.
He started dodging trees. I am still quite proud of the amazing horsemanship I displayed as we veered all over earth. All I had to hold on to was his mane, and believe me, I did that.

At this point in time, I distinctly remember feeling... hungry.

Then I remembered that I was probably about to die, that death could be around the bend, and the feeling suddenly went away.

Of all the places he could have dumped me, that dumb horse found what I’m sure was the only cactus patch within a hundred miles. Starbuck managed to take a wonderfully sharp corner, laying me out flat. He paused for a moment to wonder what, exactly, I was doing down there, but then continued happily about his maniacal way.

It's sad, but my aunt was still laughing as she came around the bed and laughed even harder when she saw my indignant figure sitting on the cactus, arms crossed.

First Job Ever!

I have discovered something about myself today that I didn't know previous to my new job.

I hate arcade music.

See, I got this job at an arcade, working for a guy in the church. He's paying me very well, and I only work a few hours a week, but it's better than what I was getting! (Nothing.)

Ever vacuumed for three hours straight? I did today. That dumb carpet. It looks like someone took crayons, gave them to monkeys, and told them to decorate.

If I ever have to work behind the counter, I think I'll die of insanity, listening to the same half-song every day, all day. (OH MY GOSH.) They'd be lucky if the only thing I did was disconnect the sound system.

So basically, all I do is vacuum, clean the mechanics on the machines, and stock the redemption area. It's mindless, boring work, but it's a JOB!

Texans in the Snow

It was April of '07
We thought we'd died and gone to Heaven
But bein' Texans, we didn't know
that sadly, it was but snow.

Slippin' and slidin' past the house
we joined the ever growin' crowd
as the people in their houses watched us pass
and laughed and laughed and laughed.

We thought it all unfair,
for them to just stand there and stare
and wave to some now and then
and gawk at a passing chicken pen...

There went my neighbor, Mrs. Kaper,
she'd just stepped out to get the paper,
she yelled "The dern ice is EVER'WHERE!"
with pink and purple curlers in her hair.

Then passed my friend McKag,
justa clingin' to his old bay hag
yellin' about global warming and all that stuff
said it was killin' him, he'd "had 'nough!"

There came the Mayor Plumb's dog,
poor thang, he'd bumped his big ol' nog'
an' went a-skiddin' past
as we gained speed and kept goin' fast.

We flew on by Main Street
our number grown to be called "fleet"
and slid on by the retirement home
in the yard a fake deer and a mini gnome

Loomin' up ahead came the city park
with its big brick walls and off time clarck
and we sighed with relief
as we skidded into a thousand big heaps

The brick walls were blessings
and we gathered ourselves up with jestings
when the big new wall began to bend
and it all started over again.

Dear Daddy

Dear Daddy, today I rode my bike for the first time.
Of course, I fell off and I wished you were there to hold me.

Dear Daddy, Baby dumped a basket over on himself and we all smiled.
But we missed you all the while.

Dear Daddy, my front tooth is loose and Mama says it's a good sign.
Yesterday, my other one fell out and I wished you could've seen.

And Daddy smiled as another letter reached his trembling hands.
He ripped it open and read about "everything as it stands."

But an additional letter was attached with a little piece of tape.
Thus read the note:
We all await your arrival
and we're experts at survival.
We'd prefer you to the check
but I suppose you're stuck
fighting for your country.
May God give you hope,
and may you come home.

2008 LR

2008 Ladie's Retreat -- Christy, Yuka, and Shelley.

When it comes to smiling, it's not some great accomplisment in our church.

The numerous goofballs make it easy.

I Met Jesus

It was 6pm
and he still wasn't home
Mama paced in the bedroom
no news of him
had he left us to roam?
she would call the cops soon

He'd said goodbye
he'd be back real quick
just a run to the store-room
was that headlights?
no; the neighbor's Buick
we faced a night of empty rooms

Away we kids went
to my aunt and uncle's house
where peace always reigned
where we were sent
when we needed a big ol' douse
of everything but the pained

A quick phone call
and the police were on it
but it didn't take long for a response
Mom called
there was a verdict
we'd waited too long

News was bad
there had been a wreck
so said the trustworthy cops
Dad was bad
a fatal heart attack
and I just sat and sobbed

Be Who was this?
walking up our steps
was a Man of great size
He gave me a kiss
He knew about the wreck
and He held me while I cried

I wasn't afraid
I knew this Man somehow
But couldn't seem to place Him
I felt betrayed
I said so, but He said, "It's over now.
He's in Heaven; He says to tell you he loves you."

Then He left
just walked out of the yard
stopped at the gate to wave
I got up then
as He continued onward
and I watched Jesus walk away

Quote-Post

I am probably most widely known for my famous "Quote-Posts", mostly on Facebook and MySpace, but I thought it'd be funny to make a quote-post on my blogspot. Why not give someone a reason to laugh?

Crap. Now I gotta think of some funny conversations...

--

"Time to get up."
"Who says?" (muffled)
"The clock says."
"That clock was made in China. It knows nothing whatsoever about the sleeping habits of Texans."

--

"Why do organizations give awards and medals to DEAD PEOPLE?!"
"So their families will quit whining."

--

"It's the PEDAL ON THE RIGHT! Push it DOWN!" (Uncle Dave, driving.)

--

"Allie's goofing off." -Dave to a man who stepped in the room right when Dave hit me with a rag.
"Whatever." -me
"Oh, I know." -man looks at Dave, "I had a daughter. She just went to college, but I understand what you mean." (nods)
Silence.
"What he means by that is he knows it's really you being the trouble maker." -me to Dave.

--

"Do you live here or are you visiting?" -some stranger I was being introduced to
"Oh I'm-"
"She's living here. She just doesn't know it yet." -Judy, church secretary.

--

"Let's disco-aaaaaaah!"

--

"HELP! I'm outnumbered! I'm the only girl!" -me to Lindsey
"Hey. I have a feminine side, too." -Nick, indignant and offended.
"We don't want to see it." -me

--

"You're persecuting me." -Nick
"Yeah, well, if you ask you, you're ALWAYS being persecuted." -me

--

"There's coffee in the kitchen if you want it."
"And if I don't, it'll go away, right?"

--

"GOOD MORNING! How are you?"
"You woke me up, dragged me here, and you really expect a cheerful response to that?"

--

"Good grief, Margaret, it's not like they're going to tie you to a pole and burn you while dancing!" -me
"What? That was the first thing we planned on doing! That's what you call an Alaskan cook-off." -Dave
"Noooooo!" -Meg
"Alright, alright. We'll wait till the second night to do that." -Dave

--

"Warm milk? CALVIN! He's drinking WARM MILK." -me, on the phone
"So?" -Calvin
"No, no. You're supposed to be on my side here!"

--

There are tons more, but these are the only ones I could find. You got lucky. ^^

Anchorage Youth Forum

Youth Forum, beginning of second day!

Picking on someone smaller than you? Shame, Jeff! Taking a two-year-old's shoe!

The incriminating evidence...

Guess what twerp wouldn't smile for the pictures? (You only get one guess.)

Even though it kind of looks like it, they aren't dealing drugs.

The break... Talk about some lazy bums!

These Days

First off, some advice:

Never go on a bike ride with Eric. It's life endangering.

Secondly, my favorite saying for you think about:

"God is God, and not us."

Legacy -- Lyrics

Today I'm just going to post the lyrics to "Legacy" by Nicole Nordeman, since they partain so well to what I was trying to say yesterday.

I don't mind if you've got something nice to say about me
And I enjoy an accolade just like the rest
You could take my picture and hang it in a gallery
Of all the who's who and so-n-so's that used to be the best
At such 'n such...it wouldn't matter much
I won't lie, it feels alright to see your name in lights
We all need an "Atta boy" or "Atta girl"
But in the end I'd like to hang my hat on more besides
the temporary trappings of this world

Chorus:
I want to leave a legacy
How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love?
Did I point to you enough to make a mark on things?
I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who blessed Your name unapologetically
And leave that kind of legacy

I don't have to look too far or too long awhile
To make a lengthy list of all that I enjoy
It's an accumulating trinket and a treasure pile
Where moth and rust, thieves and such will soon destroy

Not well traveled, not well read, not well-to-do or well bred
Just want to hear instead, "Well done" good and faithful one

LEGACY -- Did you leave one?

When you die, what will people say about you?

I don't mean, "Oh, she had the prettiest, longest eyelashes ever!" or "And you wouldn't believe how he could play the piano!"

No.

I mean, "She encouraged me to change who I was and to be a better person," or "When I was down, he really brought me up and helped me. I'll always remember this person and I want to be just like them."

As for me?

I want to be more concerned about the nurse who's helping me when I'm 94 years old on my death bed, more concerned about where she's GOING, where she will end up, than I am concerned about myself.

Where Are You Going?

Who Will Care?

Who Will Remember You For Your Love?

Your Legacy?

I've recently been touched by a dear friend named Talley. He is in his 90's+ and on his death bed. They say he has two days to two weeks as I write this. Everyone in church is ripped up over his leaving, but to watch his face when he talks of where he's going is just fantastic. He lights up and absolutely gushes.

Our teacher today said he went to visit Talley just this afternoon and one thing in particular stuck in his mind that the elderly man said. Something like this, "It's so simple, and people just don't get it! You don't have to read. You don't have to be a mathematics major. You don't have to be a rocket scientist! You don't even have to know first grade spelling. You just have to believe. And understand that God is God and not us."

I want to be like that.

Will you be like that?

The I-Look-Nice Feeling

As we all know, if we look good, we feel good. So here are a few tips for girls I came up with.

1. COMFORT MATTERS. You can look nice and be comfortable at the same time. [For those of you who like to run around in jeans and a t-shirt, try slacks and a polo shirt. It works, and you can actually get away with wearing nice tennis shoes with them!]

2. MAKEUP. ALWAYS. It doesn't matter if you're just staying home all day. When you wear makeup, you feel ready to greet and conquer the day!

3. HAIR. Make sure that your hair is always presentable. You wouldn't want your UPS man seeing you like you just got out of bed, after all. [Tragic. I know.] Seriously, do you want the people around you to think it's okay to go around with your hair unfixed, wearing sweat pants and a baggy shirt? I mean, who's attracted to that, anyway?

I recently went to a day full of exit exams at school, and upon arrival, my friend looked at me and said, "You don't LOOK sick!" [I had the flu.] No, I didn't look like it! Because I had stopped that morning to fix my hair, apply my makeup, and dress nicely.

It matters.

Be comfortable.

The good feeling of I-Look-Nice will follow.

Joy vs. Happiness

The best thing I've learned in the past six months is the difference between happiness and joy. Joy is deep-rooted, consistent, everlasting. Happiness is simply temporary. That's all there is to it. You don't have to be happy to be joyful. I am naturally a joyful person, a person with a good sense of humor, a person that people look at and say, "Oh, her? She's ALWAYS happy." Oh, ho, ho! Look who knows so much! For all you know, I go home and cut. (I don't, but it's nothing I've never considered.) Joy comes from knowing where you stand and knowing that you will never be moved. Being secure. Happiness comes from good circumstances, such as a party, or a good day, or a weekend in Paris. Joy comes from being able to smile and nod to yourself and know that you have a place you can go or a safety net. (Mine is Jesus!) You cannot have joy without security. You cannot have true happiness without JOY! (A x B = C, so therefore...)

Joy is all about being able to smile when your world is crumbling around you. When my step-father died, I was truly torn up about it. I loved him; we clicked. We got along, always, and I learned a lot from him. And I smiled.

It's true that there are appropriate times for sorrow. To me, in my personal opinion, the bedroom is a good place and at night is a good time. That's it. Period. But see, that's just me. I don't like crying in front of people because I think it makes me look weak and insecure. Not necessarily the case, but somewhere deep inside me I think that. Fine, you say, so if that's just your opinion, what's the truth?

A time to weep, a time to be happy, a time to sow, a time to reap, a time for everything. You'll know when it's the time to cry. You'll know when you need to smile.

Keep an open heart.

Why I Started This Blog.

Greetings, ALL! I've always been told to never start an article with, "Hello, my name is -", but I can't think of any other way to start this! So here goes. My name is Alexandra, but I always sign with "Allie" and that's what everyone calls me. I'm 17 years old, and I just wanted to start this blog to share with you the things, valuable things, that I've learned in my life. I may completely forget about this blog, considering the fact that I've started about thirty-eight blogs and can't remember any of them... But I'll try to keep up the posts.

First step is to get a really nice blog layout. HA! I don't know how to accomplish that, but I've seen some really nice ones out there and want one that's unique. One that looks like me. One that says "TEEN!" but also "HAPPY TEEN!" not "EMO TEEN!" or "I'M SO UNHAPPY WITH LIFE I COULD SCREAM!"

Yeah.

Right.

-->>Allie