Life=Risk

SPOONS

2009-11-04T12:54:00.000-08:00

“Are you seriously eating that with a plastic knife, Mary?” Michelle said, staring at my cup of pudding, and yes, my plastic knife.

“Michelle, I have thought this through,” I said, shoving more delicious sugar-free pudding in my mouth.

“Oh let me guess. You’re using a knife so you can use the disposable spoons for things that actually require spoons,” She said.

“Yes, Michelle! That’s exactly why. You know me so well,” I said

“And you’re not using your disposable spoons because you need them for later so you don’t have to use real spoons and WASH THEM,” Michelle said. “You’re just trying to avoid doing dishes!”

This is what college does to you! I now do ANYTHING to avoid doing dishes, homework, and laundry. In fact, I have some laundry in the laundry room right now from a few days ago…I’m going to go be responsible and get them now.

NOT.

Enjoy.

2009-10-14T23:12:00.000-07:00

I realize I am terrible at keeping a photoblog, but frankly I'm just not sure anyone looks at it. Facebook is now serving as my photoblog. And I feel bad. So here, bloggers. Here is a photoblog. My friend Courtney hooked me up with some awesome guys at Fusion Tattoo here in Abilene, and they let me come in there studio and take pictures. So, so awesome. These guys are so talented and sweet! I can't wait to get my tattoo there.

These ones aren't from the Fusion bunch, but I still wanted to share :)

Life actually equals risk.

2009-10-05T18:34:00.000-07:00

Today was monumental. It was the first day that the whole theme of this blog, life=risk, actually meant something to me. It starts out with a girl whose struggles woke me up to the world around me.

I met Samantha Bahl during one of the first few weeks at school. She was one of those girls who sucked you in with her abnormal and beautifully rebellious behavior. From the first sentence she spoke, I learned two things about her. One, she was different. Two, she didn’t care.

“I wouldn’t just randomly walk into my dorm if I were one of ya’ll,” She warned the room full of girls that just happened to stop in her dorm while walking down the hall. “’Cos I’ll probably be naked.”

She wore no make up on her carmel skin, her black hair short and straight, true to it’s natural in form. She was dressed in Addidas wind-pants and one of those white spandex shirts that I was always afraid to wear because of how “revealing” they were. But like I said, Samantha didn’t care.

She made me curious. I didn’t think she would like me, nor did I think any of the other girls in that room would. I listened to folk music, and they knew how to do the jerk. To my surprise, however, they majority of the girls in the room remembered my name and added me on Facebook within a few days. Every time they see me they smile and scream, “MARY!” I thought that would be the end of our communication, that we would exist as acquaintances, and not much more. I’ve learned that people need space, and forgotten that people need friends.

However, Samantha ended up asking me to join her for lunch, and I agreed. But then I slept in and she forgot what room I was in and the plan ultimately crashed and burned. When I found out that she was a graphic design major I asked her to help me sketch out a tattoo, which she agreed to. Perhaps that will come later, but first Samantha has to figure some things out.

Like whether or not she has cancer.

It began with a heart attack last week, and a stomach pain doctors thought was maybe a really bad kidney infection. Come to find, though, it was a “watermelon” or a tumor in Samantha’s stomach. She’s been transferred to another hospital to run more tests to determine if the tumor is cancerous.

That’s when I realized that I am no longer in high school. I’m diving into a time where friends get cancer. Not only that, but my friends are getting married, having babies and God forbid, even miscarriages. I’m at a time where my parents get sick and need surgeries, and I am no longer the center of attention. It’s a time of self-sacrifice, which I wasn’t expecting.

I’m in a time where no one really knows what they want to do with themselves or what to believe in. While in high school, I thought that only losers didn’t know what to do with themselves and questioned things, but now I’m coming to find that that is human nature. Things are becoming less black and white and more like one of those annoying neon-colored abstracts my friend Aaron hates so much.

I toured the Dallas Morning News this afternoon with some fellow Mass Communication majors. None of us were truly intrigued, which is sad because we are supposed to be the “cream of the crop” of the freshman journalism majors. Out of ten students, only one is a print-journalism major, two want to be art majors, and two want to transfer at semester. That leaves only five who… well, I don’t know what they’re doing. But the point is that the majority of us truly don’t like where we’re at.

Despite the fact that I am attending Abilene Christian University, a “prestigious” if you will, university with a kick ass journalism program, for an extremely low cost, in addition to working as an Editor on their newspaper as a freshman and assisting in web-development for a major department on campus, I still don’t know if I want to be here. Everyday I run through what I can do to attend a different university or art school. I don’t know what my problem is. I don’t even know if that is a problem. But it’s sort of eating me alive.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not depressed or miserable by any means. I have had a great time here, and ACU is an amazing school. I just feel like a piece of me is being neglected when I neglect art, like I let a piece of me in Maryland when I toured an art school there. Sitting in my Journalism and Mass Communications class is not misery, or boring. It’s just. Is. I don’t hate it and I don’t like it. It’s just this class that I’m in that has no impact on me. The teacher is wonderful and such an asset to this University. Being taught by her is an honor. Admitting that her class is boring should be blasphemy to any journalism major. Being in my art class-even at 8 a.m.-is thrilling. I look forward to studying and love every aspect of it. And it’s art history! A subject I have loathed for years! Turns out that with the right teacher, I am enchanted by it. It is the only class that I look forward to.

When I meet people, if they don’t immediately ask me where I’m from, they ask me if I’m an art major. Apparently, I just look like an art major. You know why? Because I should be an art major. Even my face thinks so. So why am I not an art major?

I promised myself a long time ago that I was not going to major in art at a University. Just not going to happen unless God does some major mind-set changes in me. Second, to go to art school, I need to go to the best one possible, which is either going to be in New York or Maryland. I know that’s arguable, but my mind won’t change about that. To bring up the point that I should major in journalism for my career’s sake and just taking a ton of electives in art would be to miss my point entirely. I don’t. Want. To be. A. Journalism major.

I don’t read newspapers. I don’t care about what’s going on. Frankly I think it’s a waste to keep up with everything (I know I probably just lost a few readers and probably frustrated my parents, it’s my true opinion. For now anyway. Maybe I’ll care later on in life) and keeping up with the world is essential for any journalist.

I can write well, but that doesn’t mean I should major in journalism. I love getting to know people and I like the fast-paced environment of journalism, and would kill for a job at a magazine. As far as studying journalism? I’d rather not spend thousands of dollars learning about something I find boring and yet stressful at the same time. I’m interested in how to craft words together to interest people, and to tell stories. That’s what I love to do. But apparently that doesn’t mean I should major in journalism.

What I learned today is that life isn’t about money. I knew that before, but I didn’t understand it. My choice of major, school, and industry have all been driven by money. I’m good at writing, so I can make money off of it. I have lots of scholarships here, which means God’s providing, so I should OBVIOUSLY go to ACU. I have journalism scholarships and have been paid to write before, so I should be journalism major.

Coming to ACU was not, and is not a mistake. The opportunities I have here and experiences I have had are exceptional. I am so blessed. If I had never come here I would have gone to art school thinking, “But what would a Christian school be like?” “What are guys at a Christian school like? Surely they are more Godly and more for me.” What I have found is that Christian schools are great, but my heart is never going to stop wanting art school. It’s never going to stop wanting an adventure.

I still don’t know what I want to do, and I have some time to figure it out. I have things outside of my own desires that will play into my ultimate decision. God, family, money…all these things I will have to consider. But how much consideration do they deserve? I don’t know. I’ll have to figure it out. Maybe I won’t transfer. Maybe God will teach me how to deal with this, and let me make the right decision. Whatever I decide to do He will take care of me. I am not afraid. But this new look on life is very…new.

MICHELLE AND MARY’S SUPER PROFESSIONAL NON-FAT WORK OUT CONTRACT

2009-09-10T00:05:00.001-07:00

I have found a new best friend in the girl across from me in the dorms, Michelle. She is totally awesome. She and I are both very tired of not being athletically in-shape, and want to get back in shape. So, in attempt to make our plan more concrete and not just one of those things we SAY but never DO, I suggested we make a contract.*Oh, and I wrote it, I just decided to make it third person.

*We decided to be extra mean to ourselves, somewhat to make ourselves take working out more seriously, but mostly for comedic means. Neither one of us cusses, but we felt that we needed a certain edge to some of the statements made. This was made at 2 a.m. on a Wednesday, because neither one of us can sleep and are thus wallowing in self pity after pigging out on late-night snacks together. Ah, the joys of college. Don't take anything to offense or think that we are degrading ourselves or anyone else who isn't "in-shape", this was just for us, because we really do feel gross, no matter if everyone else thinks we look fine. Now enjoy the hilarity!

"Dear Michelle and Mary,

You are very out of shape, and it is gross. You will run (even though running totally SUCKS) every night.* On the weekends, you shall take a break from running (if wanted) and go on BIKE RIDING adventures! How exciting! Think of it this way, girls: YOU ARE FAT. And if you run one mile, very somewhat slowly, it will only take 15 minutes. If you run around the campus, you can have girl-talk on the walk back to the dorms. ‘Cause I mean, seriously. Are you really going to miss the 15 best minutes of studying because you’re running? No, I don’t think so. You will be smart AND sexy with this new plan.

Mary: Even if you just got back from the optimist and it is like 11 p.m., and you are dead tired, remember the feeling you get when you go shopping and EVERYTHING looks good. Remember the feeling, grasp it tight! It is IMPORTANTE! I know you always say that when you get engaged you’ll get in shape for your wedding. But, that might end up like all your other failed attempts to get in shape, and you will be fat and miserable on your wedding day. And remember your tattoos that you want on your stomach and arms! THOSE DON’T LOOK GOOD WHEN YOUR FAT! YOU HAVE GAINED 20 POUNDS IN THE PAST YEAR! THAT IS NOT NORMAL! If you gain the freshman 15, you’ll have gained 35 pounds in a YEAR! Oh, my, God, Mary!

Michelle: Remember that when Mary is, well, lets face it, bitching at you (“YAY WE USED A NAUGHTY WORD!”), that what she really does love you, she just knows what it feels like to be fat. And she doesn’t want you going through that pain alone. It’s all love, Michelle. All bitchin’ love. And don’t give Mary that “I’m tired “crap! Runing makes you more awake anyway, and you’ll sleep better tonight. If you are CLEANING, or ORGANIZING, it can WAIT! You want to be confident, do you not? Yes you do! Confidence+sexiness+organization+potential sleep+smartness= Michelle after letting Mary kick her ASS (“YAY WE USED ANOTHER NAUGHTY WORD!”).

*HOWEVER, if we are (ehem) cramping, we will go on long bike ride. Because let’s face it. Running with (ehem) cramps is just wrong.

Mary, you’re goal is to look similar to what you looked like in volleyball. Michelle, your goal is to look like what you looked like in basketball. YOU CAN DO THIS!

Signed, Mary Garvin & Michelle Luke.

College, hoorah!

2009-08-25T18:22:00.000-07:00

This is an essay I had to write for my University Seminar Class. I've never written a college essay, so I really hope this will suffice.

What kind of decision maker are you? Give one example and discuss what role God played in this decision, and three godly decision making techniques you will use in future decisions.

As a rational thinker, one would assume that I would chose a rationally, logically good roommate with qualities like being clean and having good eating and studying habits. But I am not a stereotypical rational thinker. The way I chose my roommate exemplifies this perfectly.

I was taking the ACT for the second time at ACU’s testing Center when I saw it. It was right beside me for the entire test, tantalizing me. I had spent the previous months drooling over it in my free time, day dreaming about what it would feel like to behold something so precious and delicate. So during a ten-minute break, I decided I couldn’t resist. I had to know more.

“Is that James Avery?” I said to the tall brunette sitting next to me, pointing to the ring I’d been wanting for months on her finger.

“Yeah! It is. I love James Avery!” she replied with a huge, peppy smile.

After that glorious confession, I concluded that this girl and I were going to be friends. During the course of our ten-minute break, she showed me her other James Avery jewelry and introduced herself as Nastasha O’Neil. We made small talk; what we were going to major in at ACU, where we were from, and of course, our mutual love for James Avery. We both raved about the glory of jewelry, and then proceeded to discuss the brilliance of Dario Marianelli’s work on Pride and Prejudice’s sound track. Until this point in my life, she was the only person I had met who was as obsessed with James Avery and Pride and Prejudice as I was, so obviously, I knew we would make at least good friends.

When the test was over, Nastasha waited for me and then gave me a ride to my car. This is significant because no one ever waits for me. Not even my good friends back home. So when she did this, I was able to reason that she was loyal and sweet. However, what really sealed the deal was her messy car. When I got in, she apologized for the mess. I replied that I was alarmingly messy, and that her car was nothing compared to my catastrophe of a room.

That’s when we asked each other to be roommates. We both possessed the two qualities that are normally things that would make us terrible roommate candidates: we’re messy and watch the same movies over and over. But because I am realistic and rational, I knew that putting two messy and somewhat dysfunctional girls together would ultimately turn out amazing.

While I am dominantly a rational decision maker, I am also pre-dominantly dependant. Being a dependent decision maker means that other people’s opinions are a large part of my ultimate decision. Nastasha was so cool. She was messy, funny, caring, and wasn’t clingy. But before I got too carried away with glee, I needed to know that who she was to the public eye matched up to who she was in mine. After asking mutual friends about her personality and reputation, everything checked out. If things hadn’t checked out, I probably would have been much more hesitant to room with her.

James 1:17 says that “Every good and perfect gift” is from the Lord. One of the many blessings I have received while at ACU is definitely my roommate. She, like each other blessing, is just another reminder of why attending ACU is definitely God’s will for my education. I love her, and thank God everyday for bringing me such a cool roommate.

In future decisions, I will continue to use the same three techniques I used with determining Nastasha as my roommate. One, I will protect myself. If I had gone off of whom Nastasha said she was, I could have moved in and found out that she had all these weird habits that she wouldn’t have wanted to mention before. By asking mutual friends about her, I was able to ensure that she wasn’t a psycho or someone I shouldn’t have in my life. Secondly, I will be honest. I am a very messy person, and by telling Nastasha that, I avoided some potentially bad situations. If Nastasha turned out to be a clean freak and I lied and said I was too, she would have agreed to be my roommate assuming that she wouldn’t come home to a massive pile of dishes and dirty laundry. Instead, we were both honest and our messiness was a key factor in deciding to be roommates. Thirdly, I will thank God for every blessing he pours out. I believe that God wants to answer our prayers and bless us, but he also wants us to thank Him when He does so. The more frequently I thank the Lord, the more I realize what He does for me, and the more I love Him. Just as I thanked Him for Nastasha, I will continue to thank Him for each and every future blessing.

The Blog you've HOPEFULLY been dying to read

2009-08-23T15:29:00.000-07:00

So for the last two weeks or so, Blogger refused to let me post ANYTHING. I tried on multiple computers-but nothin' worked. So I appologize, dear readers. Here is one of the many blog posts you have coming to you. I was going to put them all in one and have a really really long post, but I may not have time to actually perfect another Shelby Eaton blog. So I'll give you stories one by one.

GET LOST.

Once upon a time, my best friend Tyler asked me to stop by his new house about two hours away from my hometown. For months I was not able to complete this task due to my status as a high school girl who is not allowed to drive two hours to see a boy (even if her mother KNOWS the boy is basically a big brother, and has been for the past four years). So once I graduated, I was free to go so him!

Unfortunately, we forgot how directionally retarded I am.

“Mary! You should come see me on the way back from your Dad’s (in Austin). It’s right on the way, you only have to make one turn and you’ll end up in Stephenville,” Tyler said. “Not even you could screw this up.”

Tyler then proceeded to give me the directions to Stephenville. He was right- it was literally just one turn different from the normal route home from Austin to get to Stephenville.

“Do you remember if it as a right or left by any chance?” I said.

“Right,” Tyler said. “Just make sure you go on 281 North.”

Sounded simple enough, so I didn’t bother with my GPS or anything.

Now before we proceed, let me give you some info on where I have lived for the past six or seven years. No one gives directions by street names, we give directions like this: “You know Billy? Bob lives right next to his grama, who lives about two blocks away from Billy’s prize goat Sally’s pen…and Bob lives right on that corner.”

So when I saw a sign that said to turn left to go on 281 SOUTH, I figured if I turned in the opposite direction, I’d be going North on 281, because this is what small-town thinking does to you. You ignore signs, and go with what you “figure” is right.

Epic.

Fail.

So I’m diriving along, and I have not seen a single sign that said “281 North,” but I figure it’s like Mopac in Austin, which has two names, Mopac and Loop 1. I continue driving, blaring Misty Edwards and worshipping Jesus in my car having the best time ever, until I saw a sign.

“ELDERLY MISSING. IF SEEN, CONTACT 555-5565. “

Is that not the saddest thing EVER? Of course it is! I called Tyler about it IMMEDIATELY.

“TYYYYYYYLEEERR!”

“…yes, Mary?”

“There’s an ELDERLY missing! Isn’t that just awful! He’s probably wondering around with his cane trying to find his dentures and they are nowhere to be found…that or he was Elderly-napped! Who would do such a thing? What is this world coming to Tyler?! This is just so sad!”

“Oh my God Mary. Where the heck are you?”

“I dunno,” I said. And I meant it. “There’s a pancake house here though. Think I should try it?”

“Are you even on 281?”

“Hmmm….nope, I think I’m on 170.* But I think it’s the same thing, like in Austin, there’s this one road called Mopac, but some people call it Loop 1 and it’s very confu-“

“MARY! Oh my GOD. Turn around or pull over!”

I then took the nearest exit and pulled into a vacant parking lot only to find that I was in Kaleen, TX. Or more relevantly, two hours away from Stephenville.

“You know what’s weird?” I said to Tyler on the way back to Lampasas, where I made the wrong turn (he refused to get off the phone with me until I saw a sign that said “281 North”). “If that elderly had never gone missing, I would have never seen the sign and thought to call you. I would have been lost for EVER.”

Tyler thought that I was kidding, but I most certainly was not. Things do happen for a reason, you know.

JUST FYI.

2009-08-16T13:29:00.000-07:00

You, dear reader, have a rather large blog coming your way. Remember The Shelby Eaton Blog? It's going to be like that. A jumble of stories, lists, etc. It will involve geckos, pop tarts, coffee mugs, the Mona Lisa, a GPS, and a large alligator soap dish. Oh, and a Zac Efron lookalike from Chilli's.

Be in suspense.

Yosemite Sam!

2009-08-09T15:13:00.000-07:00

I think people seriously underestimate the power of Chicken Noodle Soup. Just sayin'.

Seven more days until I move into the dorms! Hoorahhh!! I'm in agony, really. I can't wait. Okay, I have to talk about something else. I must distract myself!

Does anyone else get sudden urges to do things? Like...wear a ton of bright purple eye-shadow and get chest-peice tattoos? I believe I have a rebel inside of me, ya know? For real. It really pisses me off that all the tattoos I want are in places a wedding dress would make visible. Which is why I think I am so in favor of a tattoo on my stomach. Why am i talking about tattoos? I'm seventeen. I also would like to put some more high lights in my hair. I keep saying I will but I never do. This frustrates me.

I know why! Because I'm in Austin right now! It's true. Yesterday, I went to Zen to get some AWESOME Chinese* food. I ended up being squashed in line between one Scene-looking girl with leopard print and star tattoos on her shoulders, and another tatted up girl clad in complete 50's stay-at-home-mom clothing and red lipstick. There were so many tattoos on her I couldn't even focus long enough to tell what they were. She was talking to the guy behind the counter, telling him about the new "work" she had done, and while he had no visible tattoos, he was just as out-there as the two women with his giant Yosemite Sam mustache hanging from his face.

Like I said, I'm in Austin. Which means I'm visiting familia. My step mom, aunt, and I all went shopping at TJ Max yesterday and made an absolute killing. I got a lot super cute clothes, including one giant navy blue sweatshirt. Why is this significant?

This is me showing you how sad I am it's not winter, which would enable me to wear this sweatshirt constantly.

1. I really, really like navy blue. I like it so much I've considered having a navy blue wedding dress instead of a white one.**

2. I have a sweatshirt now! The other ones I have are mostly from ex-boyfriends...which is kind of awkward, even if they are super comfy.

3. It's extremely soft and fits me perfectly. It has a large hood for my large hair and everything!

After the TJ Max killing, I was in charge of Annabelle for the night as my parents and aunt went out on the town for a friend's birthday. She was supposed to fall asleep before they left, BUT, because she MISSED me, we stayed up alllllll night together. She is such a nut. She was so hyper! She can't walk or even crawl yet, but man can she roll around and make a fuss. She only cried once, but the rest of our three or fours hourse together was pure bliss. As soon as everyone got home, she immediately fell asleep. See? She was awake just because she missed me. I am an evil sister, by the way. I put things on her head.

I keep getting so sleepy and sick-feeling. I don't know what the deal is. I'm sure it's nothing, but it's soo annoying....

OH MY GOODNESS.

I DIDN'T EVEN TELL YOU! I had two job interveiws at ACU last Thursday, and they both went super well. One was a graphic design position, and the other was a student assistant job. Well, the Student Assistant job turned into a...Helping a department of ACU build their site, do some graphic design, take some photos and write some stuff, and...yeah... kind of job. They said they were impressed with my resume and were looking for someone to help build their new site and even though I was young-my resume said I was ready. I accepted the position on Friday, and though I haven't heard back from them on a starting date, I'm fairly certain that the job is mine for the taking. The best part? It's the kind of job they would keep me on for the next four years. So, basically, I have a gaurunteed job from now until graduation. And it's a GOOD job. A career building job. THE LORD IS GOOD. I am so in awe of how he is providing for me and making a way. I am so confident that an early graduation and attendance at ACU is right for me. This is good, good stuff.

In other news, Facebook is EVIL. There's all these little ad things asking be to "become a fan" of sour gummy worms. I keep hoping that it'll change the next time I'm on and ask me to like, become a fan of something less-tastey, like asparagus. But does it? NO. And now I've been craving sour gummy worms for the last two days. Evil Facebook....

I better get into some kind of work out routine at ACU, I'm getting less in shape every day and it bothers me. And pie NEVER stops tasting good. In fact, I think it tastes better every time I eat it. I can't diet. I just can't. I must work out. My problem is that I don't like working out in front of people, near people, or anywhere that people could see me. However-I can't just go out to the middle of no where and work out, because what if someone saw me? Then they could tell everyone what I was doing and make fun of me! Or worse! What if they decided to kidnap me? I would be gone forever because no one would no where I was!

See? It's just a huge dilemma.

*Or Japenese food. Whatever. I can't tell the difference.

**This will never happen. I would feel weird. And my step mom and mother would never allow it anyway. Still, it goes to prove how much I love the color.

Hi.

2009-08-04T01:04:00.000-07:00

So, this is what I look like after editing about 100 pictures within an hour or two. Or three...Okay, fine. Four. Four hours of editing. I think. You know I can't remember these things.

I now have a whole new respect for professional photographers. I mean, my goodness! I shot a family reunion the other day and took about 380 pictures, and I'm trying to get myself in the habit of editing every picture, not just my favorites. And it's hard! I can only stare at a screen for so long. And good Lord. Imagine being responsible for an entire wedding? From start to finish? That will be me, soon, by the way. I mean, I shot a wedding with Brittany Strebeck, but I only focused on certain things, like the bride getting ready and stuff. But wow...ahhhh....

Okay, I am done complaining. In all truth, I love photography and I enjoy doing this crazy job. For the past few nights, I've been up past four aye em to edit and play with my camera and what not. My sleep cycle is all over the place. If all goes as planned, I have a bridal shoot and wedding coming up within the next month. I'm also going to take some portraits of my Aunt Julie who is staying with my mom and I for a few days. She's moving to California, so she's driving her car all the way from Maryland to CA, and on her way she stopped to say hello for a few days. Like I do with everyone that visits, I took her to ACU today and showed her around. Unlike everyone else that visits, we went to get pedicures and go shopping at Goodwill. I bought a old timey vintagey coat rack thing and an old timey vintagey footlocker, as well as some sixty cent athletic tees. Woot!

$10

$5*

I LOVE GOOD WILL.

Remember the last post where I told you all about the glorious things I found at Forever 21? I only ended up buying two things from there:

Then I bought some stuff from Etsy:

I can't remember how much this was.... like $15? Maybe?

And I really, REALLY wanted to buy this headband, but it was $17 and I wasn't sure how often I'd wear it :(

It's 3:34 a.m. I have to sleep now. I apologize for the lack of posts. I have many many things on the grand to-do list this week. Goodnight.

*Yes, it was cheap. But you know why? Because it smells like some creepo killed an animal, stuffed it in the suitcase thing, and dropped it off at Goodwill. I then imagine that the Goodwill people were like, "Oh! How glorious! An old timey vintagey footlocker thing!" But then they opened it and were appalled. But it's goodwill. So of course they discarded of the body and Febreezed** it, and waited for someone like ME to buy it. I'm alright with this. I just threw two giant air fresheners in there and locked it up. I will open it in a few days and smell the orangey goodness.

**Febreeze works on everything! I kid you not! Okay, I know this is totally gross and no guy will ever want to date me after they read this, but I don't care. It is comical. The other day I was supposed to go to a concert and my hair actually looked really good-but it, of course, had to stink. We had to leave in like ten minutes and there was no way I was going to be able to shower and what not before we left and just when I was about to panic....I saw the Febreeze. I hope you see where I am going with this.***

***I Febreezed my head, idiot.****

****I apologize for calling you an idiot. You're probably not. You probably just want to believe that I am not the type of girl who is so lazy that would rather Febreeze her head than take a shower. But I am. Accept it.

And then the man said, "I'm prone to man Crushes."

2009-07-31T23:35:00.001-07:00

I'm a fashionista. Take a gander of things I WISH I could buy from Forever21.com while you await my next blog:

^Note to blog viewers: I MUST BUY THIS! OR I WILL SURELY DIE!^

Note to blog viewers: I would never wear this. It's soooo short. Blah.

^Note to blog viewers: I MUST BUY THIS! OR I WILL SURELY DIE!^

Note to blog viewers: Sometimes I greatly despise being curvy. I can't wear stuff like this, and it's depressing.

ENOY YOUR LIFE AND LOOK CUTE.

Houston, we have a problem.

2009-07-26T11:16:00.000-07:00

Mary Garvin Photography- THE BLOG, has a new post. Just sayin.

I think my sleeping late problem goes far beyond my going to bed at 6 am every morning. I went to bed at 11 last night (Really? Really), and I still slept till noon. Ugh. I set an alarm on my iPhone and it TOTALLY did not go off.*

I really, really like Pandora. It’s like it’s in my head. If you don’t know what Pandora is, I shall be your informant: Pandora is free online radio that adapts to the type of music you like. So I can search for my favorite folk band (She&Him), and they will find more bands just like them and form an entire custom station based off that type of music. And it’s DEAD ON. I loved all the music they found for me. It’s so nifty. I typed in The Ting Tings because I like how their music is so instrumental and…interesting, so it found me an entire station with music like that. It gives explanations for why the songs are playing, too:

“We’re playing this track because it features modern r&b and rap influences, a subtle use of paired vocal harmony, repetitive melodic phrasing, extreme vamping….”

Genius.

I’m having a late-night garage sale on Wednesday. Why a late-night garage sale? Because I hate the heat and am incapable of getting up early. It’s going to be in my backyard, where I will hang gobs and gobs of Christmas lights on our dead trees and gaezebo. I have over 50 articles of teenage girl clothing to sell, well over 100 pieces of jewelry, about 10 pairs of shoes, and Chinese lanterns and such that would look lovely in someones dorm. It’s going to be like a thrift store and Forever 21 had a baby in my back yard. Everyone and their mother should come! For you who live anywhere close to Albany, it’s at 7-11 pm, and you can get in touch with me in a way that wouldn’t give every creeper on the internet my address…

I HAVE TOO MUCH STUFF. PLEASE TAKE IT.

Speaking of garage sales, I went to Maggot’s yesterday and got some freaking nifty stuff. Two hat boxes, a giant stuffed frog (hahahaha. That sounds soooo gross), a fish bowl, a bowling shirt that says Jesus on the back, and many other clothes. What am I going to do with a fish bowl? I’m not sure. But my zaney roommate and I will find a use. I also bought a twenty-five cent Winny the Poo poster for Stooshie (that’s what I call my roommate now), and Stooshie** loved it. Of course. We’re going to have the weirdest dorm ever.
While cleaning out my room for the latenight garage sale, I found some very interesting things.
Interesting thing #1: A rosary. I bought this roasary look-a-like at Forever 21 forever ago (pun intended), and I was so angry when I lost it. Apparently it was just hiding under my hue gob of necklaces hanging from my shelf.
Interesting thing #2: A maraca. Yeah, I don’t even know.
Interesting thing #3: All my old CDs. Can you believe it? Before the age of the iPod, I was cruely forced to make CDs of all my new music in order to listen to it on-the-go. And I found over FIFTY burned cd’s with lame, elementary school names like “GET LOW”, “Coolnes”, “All sorts of happy”,”Jazz me UP”,”Don’t worry, be happy”, “FUNNESS”,”THIS ONE IS FUN”,”Rock out man!”, etc. I think I’m going to sell all of them for $1 at the garage sale. I always wished people sold mixed tapes&CD’s.
Interesting thing #4: Red and Silver pom-poms. Once upon a time...Mary was a cheerleader. Actually twice upon a time. I was a cheerleader in elementary school AND high school.
Interesting things #5, 6, and 7: Random bins of trash. No, I’m not kidding. I literally found laundry bins full of what once was probably scattered about my room until my mom told me to clean it. I imagine that I waited until the last minute and as I heard her walking down the hall, I grabbed the nearest laundry bin, threw everything that was on the floor in there, and hid it in my closet. I found stuff that I used in sixth grade guys. Like this lime-green, hideous lunch box. It’s a mesh bag…thing, and I’ve always been ashamed of it. I am the laziest yet most active person I have ever met.

Okay, I have made like, zero progress on my college doodle wall. Really, zero. It’s pathetic. I can’t believe I may be losing my love for painting and my random doodling abilities. What am I going to do?!?! Ugh...I'm gonna go work on that.

*It really might not have. Today I was holding my phone and noticed I flicked a button and the Taco Bell symbol came up. I was like….”There’s a taco button? Really?” But then someone texted me and it made a noise instead of vibrating. So then I flicked the button again, and a slash went through the Taco Bell symbol. Apparently my phone has been on silent ever since I got it.
**Oh yeah! Remember the whole fiasco about not being sure if my room mate and I can be roomies? We're roomies! Scary parents are the BOMB DIGGITY.

It's like the iceberg that hit the Titanic...but less murderous and more catchy and musical.

2009-07-25T01:18:00.001-07:00

I only have a few things to say tonight. I think.

FOR STARTERS, guess what time I went to bed last night? Just guess. You never, ever will.

EIGHT AYE EM.

No. I am not pulling your leg. I really was awake from 3 pm (I slept in) until 8 am the next day. This is not normal people! I blame Europe. Ever since Europe my sleep cycle is all screwy.

Now I'm pulling your leg. I can not blame Europe for my sleep cycle. I am insane, you should know this. it is no ones fault but my own that I was up until 8 am today. I enjoy staying up late. It's dark, quiet, and there isn't anyone telling me to clean my room or give the dog a shot (MOTHER). But last night I actually tried to go to bed. The clock struck four am, and I jumped in bed thinking, "Hooray! I'm going to bed EARLY! How exciting and delightful!" But then I just laid there and started at my ceiling. I wasn't really thinking of anything in particular, like life on other planets or how many cats I'd like to own someday....Oh, no. Usually, those are things I would've thought about. But I really was pretty blank.

I eventually decided to get up and textbook.* My mom heard me tearing paper and barged in my room and, seeing as it’s somewhere around 6 am, asked me why the &#$% I was still awake. I shrugged my shoulders, said sorry, and went back to my book. I didn't realize that much time had passed until I noticed the sky was turning blue, and my room was getting brighter. My mom came in again and said she was off to work, and I headed outside to watch the morning rain fall on the dry, thirsty grass.

It was divine. I was sitting there in a t-shirt dress, leggings, and a sweatshirt (hood on, of course), in my flip flops watching the rain after an all nighter. I wanted to dance in the rain. I wanted to sing for the birds and neighbors and people driving to work. But I refrained and played Flood-it on my iPhone** instead. I was sleepy.

Sleep eventually came, thank God. Abel came over that afternoon and…well, it was an awesome day.

First, we made French toast for lunch. But it wasn’t just ANY French toast, it was Robot Mickey Mouse, heart, airplane, and music note shaped French toast. I found some cookie cutters and couldn’t resist.

Later on we took a long drive out in the country and came back and made calzones, which Maggot of course joined us for. I can’t make calzones and NOT call my dear, sweet Maggot. They came out looking somewhat unfortunate...but ended up tasting delicious.

Now I’m here, all alone (I miss Maggot and Abel L ). At 4 am, once again. I’m running on literally less than 5 hours of sleep, and still awake. Guys, I’m gonna die in college. I’m just never gonna sleep, ya know? Ugh.

In other news, I got a new printer from Canon since the last one crapped out. Hooray for exchanges! It works, and it’s scanner enabled me to make a few changes to the site. How? GO SEE! I would feel awful if I just told you…

The Reporter News published a story of mine...and it ran first page on their Life section. I was amazed. Everyday I am amazed with how God decides to use and bless me. This story was so cool. I shall give you the first paragraph of the story...and you can read the rest if you please:

"Three years ago, 20-year-old Brady Bruton decided he was no longer going to buy cases for his guitar. Instead, he would buy the necessary materials and make them himself. Now 23, Bruton, of Abilene, owns his own case making company, Brady Cases, which caters to popular Christian bands such as RED, Rush of Fools, and NeedtoBreathe."

Read the rest here.

I’m going to a concert on Tuesday at Monks. I is pumped. I’m also going to Maggot’s garage sale tomorrow. I is pumped for at as well. Other than that…I am tired. Oh! I got a twitter. I'm not sure how to work it, but my user name is MiraculousMary if you can find me that way. Other than that, I don't know what to tell you. Haha follow me!

*It's kinda like scrap booking, but less on the cheesy "Remember that one time..." stuff and more artsy and AWESOME stuff.

** Oh yeah, I GOT AN iPHONE! WOOOO!

Hershey Pie

2009-07-19T17:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was possibly one of my favorite days of the year.

Now when I say that, let us recall everything that happened in the life of Mary this year:

I graduated a year early from high school
I spent two weeks in Western Europe
I started my photography business
My little sister came to be*
I got accepted into my dream journalism school **
I got to live exactly 200 more days with my friends, family, and savior.

Even still, I’m fairly certain last night topped it all off. It all started off by sleeping in (of course), and ended somewhere around 2 a.m. when I finally got home from Abilene.

A few days ago, my dear friend Abel informed me that Monks, a popular yet tiny coffee shop in Abilene, was having a concert at 7:30 on Saturday featuring the Tastydactyls and Brightlight Social Hour. It sounded awesome-but I had spent nearly all-day everyday in Abilene that week, and I wasn’t sure my mom would let me go. However, I then remembered that I’m pretty much a college-kid now, and that the curfews and restrictions that previously binded me to my house had now vanished. Therefore, I was free to go to Monks.

I got all prettied up and headed for Abilene around 6. Seeing as I slept till 2, I missed both breakfast and lunch, so I was pretty much starving once I got into town. I stopped at Wendy’s and got my usual: a small Chili and a small Frosty. The plan was to eat everything on the way to Monks, but then I remembered that I had no idea how to get to Monks.

Abel was sweet enough to meet me somewhere and let me follow him to his friend Juan’s house, where he had been hanging out. Now, before we carry on with our story, let me tell you about Juan.

Juan lives in a haunted house, has been stabbed twice, has been pronounced dead three times, and is a twenty two year old boxing stud who believes that when he dies, he will live in Thug Mansion, along with Snoop Dogg and other rap legends. He is also getting married in August on Friday the thirteenth. Pretty awesome, yes? Yes. Anyway,

Abel, Juan, and I all went out to eat at Rick and Carolines, and Juan insisted on buying me a kids meal hot dog. I heavily protested, because I knew I wasn’t going to eat it. For one thing, I just had Wendy’s and wasn’t hungry. For another thing, after I got home from Europe and ate all those hotdogs, I kind of made a vow to myself that I’d never eat a hot dog ever again. I know I won’t stick to that, but it’s only been a month or so, so I still get nauseated when I look at a hot dog. Juan bought it anyway, and Abel ate half of it for me. So sweet.

During our dinner, I found out that Abel and Juan are two of the most interesting, sweet guys I had ever met. Apparently the both of them have been to too many concerts to name, and have done something crazy at each. Getting into fights, crowd surfing, dancing, you know, things of that crazy nature. By the time we got to Monks, I was extremely excited to see what crazy thing they were going to do.

Abel was dead set on getting me to dance, but thankfully he failed (muahaha), and I did not have to dance. He ended up crowd surfing, which should surprise you, because Monks is the size of a large living room. I mean really, I would never expect anyone to be able to crowd surf in there. Each time someone did though, they came within centimeters of the ceiling fan and every girl in the room gasped loud enough to muffle the music. It was also so hot in Monks that every time I went outside to get some air, it was actually refreshing. Now all you people who are reading this and DON’T live in Texas, nothing should ever, ever be so hot that it makes Texas nights seem refeshing.

Abel pushed me all the way to the front of the stage, by the way, so I was inches away from the band.

Speaking of the BAND, Abel knows everyone, including the lead singer of the headlining band-the Tastydactyls. Before the show, everyone was sitting outside of Monks socializing. During this time I feel like I was introduced to the entire teenage population of Abilene, all of which Abel somehow knew. So when I met the lead singer of the Tastydactyls, I thought I was just meeting another random friend of Abel’s. But later during the show….I noticed that the lead singer was wearing bright blue shoes just like another guy I had met earlier…and he had the same white-blond hair….and the same blue eyes….and…I was going to kill Abel. I met the lead singer and didn’t even know it! If I had, though, I would’ve made an idiot out of myself. I love the Tastydactyls. This is how it would’ve gone:

“Hiiiiiiii,” I say, shaking his hand, my eyes getting bigger than they ever, ever should. “I love your music. That one song-Push it- is like, my all time favorite. Like, seriously, your like, so cool.”

“Well…thanks,” He says, trying to release his hand from my death grip.

“You’re totally welcome, like, seriously…you rock,” I say.

“Alright Mary, lets go get some coffee, alright?” Abel says, trying to separate my hand from the Tastydactyl guy’s. “Leettt gooooo…..”

It would’ve been bad. Anyway, I met a ton of people going to ACU, and discovered that smoking was still a teenage fad. I’m not gonna lie, I thought that died in the 80’s. I am just so naïve.

ANYWHO, the concert ended around 11 or so, so Abel and I headed back to his house to eat Hershey Pie, watch That 70’s show, and play guitar. And when I say play guitar, I mean Abel plays and I listen.

What is Hershey Pie, you ask? Abel’s very own genious invention. The recipe is super secret, but you should be ENVIOUS. The first time I had it was a few days ago when Abel made lunch for his friend Steven and I. That was also a very good day. I got to meet Abel’s little sister (she’s five), Brysa, and play games with her. Steven was so good with her- I was quite amazed. You know how little girls are kind of always playing imaginary house? Well, whenever they ask me for something, like an imaginary muffin, I always awkwardly respond with, “Ummm….I don’t have one! Darn! Go ask your mom for one.” But Steven? Oh no. He was awesome! When Brysa asked for an imaginary muffin, he held an imaginary bowl, mixed the imaginary ingredients, poured the imaginary mix into imaginary cups, and even baked them in an imaginary oven. It was adorable.

Abel was just as good with her. When he played guitar for Steven and I, Brysa would frequently interrupt by hitting the guitar with drum sticks, but Abel would just smile and tickle her. I really hope I can be like Abel and Steven when Anabell*** gets older. They’re both so sweet.

Sorry, I got a little distracted. Anyway, we ate some Hershey pie and had quite the lovely time. I went home around 12:30 or 1:00 a.m. Lovely, lovely, lovely….

In other news, my beloved roommate and I may not be beloved roommates anymore! I logged into my ACU email account, and there in my inbox was my room assignment. And who wa my roommate? NOT NASTASHA. It was DEVASTATING! I called her immediately to break the news, and she was equally devastated. She told her parents…and I think ACU is going to get a serious beat down from them. Her parents called and left a message something to this extent…

“We are paying $28,000 a year for our daughter to attend your school! You told her she could room with Mary Garvin, and she WILL room with Mary Garvin!”

Hehe. I am happy. I also got into the TINIEST DORM HALL on ACU’s campus, McDonald Hall. I remember saying to myself, “Self, you want to room ANYWHERE but McDonald. Seriously. ANYWHERE.” But what happened, self? You got put into McDonald, that’s what. I really hope Nastasha’s parents can get everything worked out. I’m too nice to be so aggressive, and I think my parents are the same. Well, I could sic my lawyer step mom on them if needed…hmmm…..

Anyway, I’m off to eat banana bread. Speaking of food, did you know Oreos taste really good dipped in tea? I’m lactose intolerant, and I really wanted to dip my Oreos in milk, but I can’t. So I had some tea sitting next to me, decided to dip it in there, and it actually turned out nicely. Hmm. Whoda thunk it?

*Technically, she was born in December. But it’s still a highlight of the year.

**Abilene Christian University is the number one journalism school in the STATE, baby.

***Annabelle is my 7 month year old sister

Tell me something!

2009-07-15T20:59:00.000-07:00

Oh, how I love Facebook conversations.

Robert
tell me something!
Mary
like what?
Robert
like anything
Mary
hmm
i recently discovered that i have a gigantic crush on peter parker from spiderman.
if he were a real person, and knew&liked me, i would be a happy happy lady.
Robert
toby mguire (sp?) spiderman?
Mary
no no no
Robert
comic book version?
Mary
PETER PARKER.
no
haha
yes from the movie
that guy
Robert
yes toby peter haha sorry
Mary
except i like peter parker. tall skinny white guy whos kinda nerdy but very very attractive and sweet
Robert
haha well thats good
Mary
yes
you said anything...haha
Robert
that secretly saves the city of new york?
Mary
na uh
Robert
or is that optional?
Mary
optional
Robert
ah ok
you dont get to fly around on webs if hes not
Mary
well thats true.
and he got all attractive and confident AFTER that spider bit him...
okay okay okay.
he can be spiderman.
BUT
Robert
you will be getting kidnapped a lot in this relationship
Mary

there cant be any bad guys who constantly interfere with our beautiful life together swinging around on webs. haha

Robert

hahahaha
exactly
Mary
hehe
Robert
no super villains. he can just help old ladys cross the street
Mary
yeah...
and,
kitties in trees and what not
Robert
sounds good
Mary
this is going in my next blog.
because its funny.

Feeling blue?

2009-07-14T10:35:00.000-07:00

I WOULD JUST LIKE VERYONE TO KNOW THAT I HAD TO DO THIS BLOG NOT ONE, NOT TWO, BUT THREE TIMES BEFORE IT WORKED. I HATE BLOGGER.
Anyway, I believe my level of happiness will sky rocket once I reach ACU on August 15. You know why? BECAUSE I HAVE THE BEST ROOM MATE EVER. Three reasons why I love Nastasha:

1. We are both insane. We both have non-matching things for our dorm room, and we rejoice in this.

2. We both love love love Olive Garden and delight in ordering the same thing every single time we go. Soup, salad, and breadsicks, and one Black Tie Mouse Cake to split.

3.She was totally cool with me having a DOODLE WALL for our dorm, and is even making a DOODLE DESK for us. We shall have the coolest dorm EVER.

Also, I've been spending a ton of time in Abilene at ACU doing random stuff. Mostly just editing photos and the website in the Library on the awesome free wi-fi. I feel like I should just go ahead and move in. It's so bad that Nastasha and our friend Chris have to ask me whether I'm in Albany, or Abilene. And when I say Albany, Chris will say, "Why arent you hanging out with me?!?!" Haha. I love it.

I went to Abilene yesterday to try to get my license renewed and it did not work. Apparently you hae to bring your high school diploma with you if you're 17 an graduated. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So I just hung around town all day and hung about with Nastasha and Abel. Chris was SUPPOSED to come, but he had to watch his little sister. Anyway, to kill time before lunch at Olive Garden with Nastasha, I decided to get all my dorm shopping done. Here's what I got:

The sheets on the left were $7.50, the ones on the right were $10. Woo hoo!

Eiffel Tower? Or JEWELRY HOLDER? Both I say!

This picture just cracks me up. Way to go Miss Eaton and Whitfield.

In other news, I have a few pending bookings for the next few weeks. I migh even drive to Lubbock to do some press shots for my friend, Colton Wise's, band. Other than that I have three families, a bridal, and a wedding to shoot. We shall see what happens. I'm going to look for locations tonight.

I watch a lot of videos, and I thought it was time to share some of my favorites. So whenever you are feeling BLUE, feel free to watch this entire blog over and over again. Like I do!

Before the hilarity, though, watch something that truly changed my life a little:

I've known some people that think this video is of some crazy dude running around in a robe...SO, I shall clarify: The guy in white exemplifies God, the girl in black represents human kind. It's a demonstration of the love God has for us, and where He is during the rough times.

Now for the hilarity!

Chris Crocker is quite inappropriate the majority of the time….but this is pretty hilarious.

OK, this video was alllll over youtube. Apparently is the BEST MARRIAGE PROPOSAL EVER. And it kind of is. I would like it. haha Anyway, see what you can make of it:

If the above video was the BEST marriage proposal according to youtube…what does the worst look like?

Hehe. I love funny videos. I hope you enjoyed.

Brainstorming

2009-04-16T09:18:00.001-07:00

This post is a little ironic because I'm in newspaper SUPPOSED to be brainstorming questions for my story, but instead, I'm brainstorming ideas for a tattoo/painting I may or may not have someday. If you haven't noticed the majority of my posts are like post it notes for me. I may or may not get tattoo, but in case I do, I need some reminders of what types of things I like (yes, I do forget). They aren't really for anyones benefit but mine. haha. My blogger is becoming a filing cabinet of to-do's. So here's my post it note/file for tattoos. Enjoy.

I love how the majority of the tattoos I like are exemplified by half-naked women. Awesome. BUT, this is my favorite tattoo so far. It comes closest to what I have in my head. I only really like the girl with the banner over her eyes. The flowers I would change to white and pink english roses (featured below) and I would put different words. I also like the little heart on her wrist. But the placing of the main tattoo she's showing us is almost exaclty where I'd want mine. That's one ginormous tattoo though. But I do likes it :) Sparrow on the right, me likey.

I loooooooooooove this tattooo....

Doves on the stomach

This is an extremely good example of what I do NOT want. CHEEESSSYYYYY!

Oh, Megan Fox. Pretty lady.

I pray to God my hair will one day be this long. I like these rib cage tattoos, but accoding to my wonderful boyfriend, they hurt like none other.

I wouldn't get this exact image, but I like the vines and rose.

Okay, definitely will not be getting an Obama tatto, but I like this banner style a lot.

Here comes the flower parade. I don't know which kind of flower I would get, but I'd like two or three big ones on my side.

These are my favorite, english roses. Like the detail on the side of the banner.

I definitely would like to try a monroe peircing :) and my nose maybe.

More to come, I'm sure.

The Abel Castillo & Tyler Grimshaw Blog

2009-07-10T00:07:00.001-07:00

ANNNNND I NOW HAVE BANGS. HOORAH.

This is one of those rare blogs where I use lots of "you shoulds" and "we shoulds" and stuff. I usually hate these. But This is what's on my heart today.

ANYWAY, Abel Castillo is a fellow ACU Wildcat who will be majoring in Graphic Design in the fall. He is one of two people I know who still say rad, and I think he’s pretty nifty. Tonight, Abel and I were discussing how neither of us are really interested in the dating scene, and during our talk, I believe that God revealed some things in me and my attitude towards dating that I didn’t even know was going on: In the past, I looked at dating as a replacement of true, basic friendship because it was so lacking in my life. For the longest time I just wanted someone-anyone-to date, but really I just wanted a friend. Someone to be real with and chill with on a consistent basis. I’m thinking I’m not the only one. But now, I'm realizing that you can find that friendship outside of dating...it just takes a lot of work. Here’s how it all started:

Abel: Honestly, I would just really like a good friend that’s a girl that I can hang out with and just be happy chilling with. Someone who likes my kind of music and movies and neediness.*

Me: Sounds like what everyone needs, but is too afraid to ask for. People have gotten into a rhythm of being close to the opposite sex only when they’re dating, and that’s not how it should be.

I went on to tell him how my best friend, Tyler Grimshaw, is a guy, but it’s taken me years to be OK with that. I never got to tell him why, though, so in case you’re reading Abel, here’s why.

Tyler always tells me how awesome I am and how much he loves me. The only time people ever tell me things like that (other than Maggie, who says she loves me all the time because she’s precious like that), is if they’re my boyfriend and are thus somewhat obliged to say things like that, or if they are my parents. And even with my parents it’s extremely difficult for me to say “I love you, too, Mom.” And with Tyler it’s even harder. After 5 or 6 years of friendship I’m still barely squeaking out a “You too” after an “I love you Mary.” So gushiness coming from just a friend, who’s a guy that’s not dating me, was freaking weird for a long time.** Even though there are those rare times at church when people would pray over me and say nice things or what God has for me, hearing things like that outside of a dating relationship took some getting used to.

Tyler was never the weird one, though. He knows what true friendship is, and I think God really had to work with my heart in order for me to see that Tyler is a living example of what true friendship is. I can not tell you how sick and tired I am of those people who put me on the back burner and say “Another time,” after I drove to Abilene specifically so I could hang out with them. Or I stay up late to talk to them, and then they ditch. Tyler is sick of it, too, which is why we’re best friends. We make a sincere effort to put the other first. Sometimes, we even do it to our own expense. Tyler never, ever ditches me and will walk out of parties just to talk to me about my day. He’s like this with everyone he truly loves, though. Tyler once drove for hours to pick up a friend in Dallas who kept falling asleep at the wheel on the way back home. Honestly, he’s the only one I know that would do something like that or me without giving me crap about it. And as for me, I’ve stayed up for hours numerous times to talk to someone just so they wouldn’t be lonely, even when I had to go to school the next day. Think it’s weird?

Please don’t. If we weren’t all so concerned with being “weird” and so self-preserved, I think the world may be a lot different. Think about it: if you had three friends who would do those sorts of things for you relentlessly, (tell you you’re attractive, blessed, smart, and capable, and then willing to go to odds ends to take care of you) how lonely would you be? How concerned with your looks, your problems, and your imperfections would you be? How in need of a boyfriend or girlfriend would you be? You’re problems wouldn’t vanish, no, but you would have three amigos at your side ready to help you cope.

This kind of friendship is what Christians should ESPECIALLY exemplify and strive for. Caring for each other like Christ would. Christ wouldn’t ditch me or say, “Sorry, I’m hangin’ out with Moses from 2-4 p.m. Another time, girly!” He’d say, “Let me see if Moses would mind if you joined us. If not, I’ll have to bump our meeting up by thirty minutes or so so I can fit a little Mary-time in. Your presence makes me smile.”

Lindsey Merrit is a great example of what I aspire to be. One night I was in Abilene pretty late for ACU orientation when she saw me hanging out in the library. She asked me if I was staying in town, and I told her no, and that I was driving back to Albany that night. Her eyes got big and wide as she said, “Girl you should stay with me! I have to study hardcore tonight, but you can totally stay over and crash!”

Here’s why that’s significant: I can name five people off the top of my head who, if they were in Lindsey’s place, would say, “Oh, man. If I didn’t have to study tonight I would totally let you stay the night!! That sucks that you have to drive back so late!”

But Lindsey didn’t do that. Not only is she just not self-centered, but she’s also old enough to realize that just because someone is staying the night at your house doesn’t mean you have to whip out the movies and manicure sets and get ready to spill you deepest darkest secrets all night to each other. She knows that she could absolutely show me God’s glory by just giving me a bed or the night, because at that time it was all she could offer. But I don’t think those five people in my head would turn me down for the night out of self-centeredness. I think it’s because if they want to hang out with me, they want to give me their full attention, not just partial. But sometimes I don’t need the biggo slumber party, I just need a place to crash.

It’s not just emotional support we lack so desperately. It’s physical, too. My best example of this happened just a few weeks ago at Beltway. During youth group, we had all gathered around our youth minister who is soon to be leaving Beltway. We outstretched our hands to him, and prayed for him popcorn style for a long time. I was standing next to Thomas Wilson, and at one point I caught his eye and said with a half-smile, “I’m about to cry.” Thomas half-smiled back and put his arm around my shoulders and kept them there throughout the prayer. Totally non-sexual, totally brotherly, and totally what I needed. At that particular moment I remember thinking, “If I had a local*** friend like Thomas, I would probably never ever have thoughts of wanting a boyfriend.”

Now let me explain that, ‘cause I know it already sounds “weird.” I feel like the only times I miss having a boyfriend (just a boyfriend, not anyone in particular) is because I miss having someone constantly there for me. Constantly willing to hug my shoulders and hold me through the tears. Someone willing to stay up late to talk to ME, and someone willing to drop everything just to hang out. See...I'm not missing a FRIEND. I'm missing a BOYFRIEND. Why is it that nowadays the best support I can generally find in another human being is in a boyfriend? Out of the tons and tons of friends I have, I feel like I need to DATE someone in order to have someone to rely on to have coffee with. I think that's a little off-center.

Once again, I'm not talking to anyone directly here. I'm just pointing out a trend...If the fourteen year old version of me had had more people giving me random hugs and more consistent friendship, I think I would have been way less obsessed with feeling like I NEEDED a boyfriend. I wish we could break down these emotional walls we've built and get over ourselves and be who God created us to be. I'm willing to work on becoming that type of friend. Anyone else with me?

*Abel later corrected himself and said “nerdiness” and not “neediness”, but neediness is what sparked all this. I was very happily surprised that someone would admit that they’re needy. That’s not a bag thing. Everyone is needy, but everyone is also too freaked out to admit it. Which is why everyone’s all screwed up. I think we should make a song about it. Like, “If you’re needy and you know it clap your hands! (CLAP CLAP)” Except no one would clap except me and Tyler. We’re not afraid to admit it because we know it’s NORMAL and not WEIRD. People were created needy! We need God, and God says it is, and I quote, “Not good for man to be alone.”
**I only have a hard time saying “I love you” when it involves a ton of emotion and meaning…hmmm.
***Thomas lives thirty minutes away, sadly.

SAVED BY THE HONEY WAFFLE CAKE!

2009-07-08T12:20:00.000-07:00

HONEY WAFFLE CAKE.

Waffle batter+a swirl of honey+pancake pan= HONEY WAFFLE CAKE

So, this morning I was totally supposed to drive to Abilene and get my haircut, buuuttt I slept in instead. Which turned out to be a good thing, because when I finally woke up and called Trade Secret to see if I could get an appointment, my favorite hairdresser was off work today. So I shall get my hair did at 10 a.m. tomorrow. After I decided all this, I was uber hungry (seeing as it was 1:30 pm) and made Honey Waffle Cakes, my latest breakfast invention. The last invention was made during a Tyler Feeding (I often feed Tyler, my best friend, when he comes into town. I call it The Tyler Feeding). We made pancake muffins. Delicious. Speaking of Tyler, here's an example of why we're best friends:

Tyler: so i caught a mouse using a plastic cup

Mary: ew
Tyler: russ freaked out. i don't understand how mice are scary
they weigh 4 ounces. soooo frightening
Mary: theyre gross and creepy. unless they're pets. then they're cute.
Tyler: lol, nice. so just the state of being in a cage makes one mouse more acceptable than another one?
Mary: yes
Tyler: lol, nice. i wonder if mice think people in jail are cuter than people who aren't...

Tyler: charles manson is waaaaaay cuter than either of us
Mary: hes in jail?
Tyler: ? That's generally what they do to people who break into houses and stab people to death sweetness.
Mary: OOOOOOOOOOH! i thought you said marilyn manson!

Hehe. I love him. ANYWAY, Marygarvinphotography.com is FINALLY launched, and you know what that means? IT'S SUMMER READING TIME! Here's a few books that are on my list:

If you do not know who this is, this is the ex-lead guitarist for KORN. Save me from myself is the story of how he quit KORN, kicked drugs, and gave himself to Jesus. I. Am. Stoked.

I do believe this should be a lot like an all-time favorite of mine, Magical Thinking by Augusten Burroughs. Every chapter is like a blog sort of thing. At least I hope so.

Google image this book, NOW! It's a big, fat, awesome art book. This guy randomly sent of 1000 journals all around the globe, and one person writes/does artsy things in it, passes it on to someone else, and so on, and when it's done, it's sent back to the original owner. And then that dude made a series of journals with all the coolest stuff in it and published it and its so cool and this is a horrible description and I'm sorry about that, and, and, and...GOOGLE IT!

Donald Miller is just cool in general. ACU gave this book for free to all their incoming freshmen. Woohoo!

I got this as a graduation present from a wonderful lady named Mo. Mo is the one to credit for my Indian name changing from "Skin like snow, hair like straw" to "Skin like snow, hair like silk." She gave me the good advice to, "treat my hair like a cashmere sweater," so I'm sure this book of writing tips will be just as great.

Another graduation present! My cousin Martin is a graphic designer, and since I'll be a graphic design minor, he and his familia thought this would be a prefect present. And you know what? IT TOTALLY IS.

You know what I JUST noticed? I HAVEN'T TOLD YOU PEOPLE MY SCHEDULE YET! Gasp! After all this talk about ACU and I don't even tell you my fall class schedule...how could I? This Europe Blog is taking away from everything else I must inform you about! Here ya go:

MONDAYS:

8-8:50 a.m. Introduction to Art
9-9:50 a.m. Creating Media Messages
10-10:50 a.m. States and Federal System
1-1:50 p.m. University Seminar

TUESDAYS:

1:30-2:50 P.M. Composition and Rhetoric
12-1:20 P.M. Life&Teachings of Jesus

WEDNESDAYS:

8-8:50 a.m. Introduction to Art
9-9:50 a.m. Creating Media Messages
10-10:50 a.m. States and Federal System
1-1:50 p.m. University Seminar

THURSDAYS:

1:30-2:50 P.M. Composition and Rhetoric
12-1:20 P.M. Life&Teachings of Jesus

FRIDAYS:

8-8:50 a.m. Introduction to Art
9-9:50 a.m. Creating Media Messages
10-10:50 a.m. States and Federal System

As afore mentioned, marygarvinphotography.com is now launched. HOWEVER, if I begin getting clients the way I hope I do, I will probably have to get another site. I bought this on a jetlag-and while I still find it the prettiest website bludomain.com offers, it lacks many things I need.

One: a proofing section. This is kind of why I even got a website. A proofing section is where I give the client a password to type in on the website and they get to see every picture I took during the session, and which ones I edited. This way, I don't have to make a CD, put them on a jump drive, e-mail them, etc. All I have to do is upload them, and from there the client can add them to a shopping cart and WALLAH, my job is done. Except, my site doesn't have one. So unless I find an alternative, I will have to get another site.

Two: There is only one text section, and I need two: One for Pricing, and one "About Mary" page. Right now, the two subjects are in one section. Which is fine, assuming that everyone can find it. I made the link to it say About Mary&Pricing. Lets hope that does the job.

Three: It's a flash site, which I recently learned disables many iPhone users from viewing my site. Which will include me in a few weeks... So...that's unpleasent. Now I know why Brittany Strebeck has the HTML option on her welcome page.

Until I get more clients, though, I won't spend the $200 or so extra dollars on the new site. I hope I get lots of clients. My prices are super low for the time being, anywhere from $60-$80 for portraits, bridals, etc. We shall see how things go. Whichever way things end up, I'll be happy knowing it's because the Lord is steering.

Today I will be taking some pictures for the contact&splash page and researching ways to have a proofing section and HTML option...hmmm...Tomorow, going to Abilene for a haircut, and Friday a sleepover with my roomie! She's going to watch me make our doodle wall for the dorm and possibly help. Very exciting. Good day!

I need a chemical peel

2009-07-06T09:00:00.000-07:00

Let's see who knows what I'm talking about. Random list? Or something more specific? Hmmmm.....Leave a comment with your best guess!

I want a rock at my window

I want a song in my ear

I want a present at my door

I want a note in my car

I want resistence

I want patience

I want converse shoes

I want black rimmed glasses

I want stunning eyes

I want a tall thin frame

I want respect

I want to be spoiled

I want an artistic brain

I want a writer

I want a painter

I want happiness

I want someone to cook for

I want a best friend

I want someone to play with

I want no perversion

I want perfection

The Europe Blog (Part one)

2009-06-30T07:29:00.000-07:00

YAY EUROPE!

Hello all,

I apologize for any withdrawals I've caused you with my lack of posts (that's YOU Miss Eaton), but I've just been too busy touring Western Europe. Yeah, that's right. I'm officially one of those snobs that can brag about their globe-trotting travels and make you green with envy.

Originally, I was going to make one giant Europe Blog, but it is just taking waaayyyy too crazy long. I'll try to go in some sort of order, but no promises. I've had a hundred things to do since I got back and had a surprise vacation to California that has kind of hindered working on this gigantic blog. I would rather do one huge blog, BUT I know I may not have time to do that and may never post ANYTHING about Europe if I don't get at least a PART of this blog done.

It was actually pretty great. I won't lie to you, I wasn't prepared for Explorica's tour. It was like traveling boot-camp. We walked at least five miles a day (or so I estimate, probably way more than that), stairs not included. Needless to say, my calves now look awesome (hooray!), or at least less like pale pencils.* We were extremely busy, waking up sometimes at 5 or 6 am and staying out (or awake) until midnight. It was lovely, but tiring. I planned on writing about everyday, but I only had time to write about the first eight days out of fourteen. Still, that's quite a bit. I'll give you what I wrote, and also a schedule of what we did that way, which I will copy from Either Melany's notebook or Explorica.com, because I do not remember any specifics. I blame jet-lag.

Jet lag is freaking killer though. Not only do I continue to stay up late editing pictures for you people because I can not sleep, but I keep getting up early. It's weird. I never get up early. Seriously. When I got back I felt a combination of volleyball two-a-days soreness and fatigue and fever of the flu. It was gross. I bought this watch in Paris that has the Mona Lisa printed on the face. It's AWESOME, but sooo unreliable. Mona is a shifty lady. One night I was up editing pictures and kept looking at Mona, who was telling me it was around 3 AM when I decided to check my facebook. So I go into the kitchen, and guess what time it is? FIVE A.M.. I was wide awake. Shifty, shifty, shifty Mona! Now I wear her simply because she's hilarious and quirky, and not at ll because she's useful. 'Cause she's not.

*Still pale, by the way. Two weeks of outdoorsyness and NO TAN FOR MARY. Insanity, I say! Insanity!

DAY ONE

The plane to Cleveland is tiny and petite, but not too stuffy. I am in a single isle, and to my left are two unoccupied seats. Tanner Jenkins sits on the opposite side of me, two rows behind, eating his trailmix and answering Mrs. Kieffer’s (a retired Albany elementary school teacher) questions with his many “Yes ma’m,” and “No ma’m,”s. It is a two or three hour flight from Dallas to Cleveland, and from Cleveland we head straight to London.

I look out the window and stare at the geometric shapes and wonder if the people who own the land plan out what their fields will look like from a plane. They always look so perfectly planned. They remind me of those mats I used to play on as a kid. You know, the kind with crayon-colored roads and fields that if you rubbed the wrong way would give you killer rug burn?

It seemed as though at any moment I would see a giant three year sprawled across the horizon, playing on his crayon-colored mat. Maybe he would see our plane and pick us up between his peanut-butter-and-jelly-covered fingers and move us to a place that better suited him. Maybe he would see us and pick as up and begin saying, “Shoom, shoom!” as he spun us in circles. Maybe he would see us and do nothing at all.

Colt grabbed the seat behind me, and Alyssa took a seat across the isle. As for me, I sat in my seat pondering the Giant Three Year Old and tried not to scratch my face anymore. I was so freaking itchy. If things keep going the way they are, I’m going to look like a giant, walking tomato by the time we reach London. I took a benedryl back in Breckenridge, but all that did was make me pass out on Melany’s shoulder on the way to the airport.

I want to be excited about Europe. I really do. But I know if I start thinking about it, I’m going to start squealing, and I know no one on this tiny plane wants to deal with that. No iPod can muffle my squeals. I am also too busy worrying about coming back to America with a warrant out for my arrest. See, I left the US still having to send in my driving record, etc. for a ticket I received after running a stop sign in Austin. I gave everything to my parents, and I really hope everything gets turned in on time. But if not…BAM! Warrant out for my arrest. Not. Cool.

Time for sleep.

EUROPE IS FREAKING EXPENSIVE.

Even if the American dollar was equal to Francs, Euros, or pounds, just buying a coke over there is more expensive than buying a fast-food meal in America. It was usually three Euros for one coke, which is about $5. And don’t think that going to an American place there will be any cheaper. In Switzerland, after I bought some crazy cheap clothes (even by American standards) from H&M, I walked down the street and bought an order of small fries and a small coke from McDonalds and spent over $13 American dollars.* I bought a lot of souvenirs, but I still spent more than double of that on food. And remember, we only had to buy lunch. Crazy, crazy, crazy. I shoulda brought more peanut butter crackers.**

This is my example of how to save money while in Europe on souvenirs. If you didn't catch exactly what I did, I acted like I ONLY had eight Euro and deesssperately wanted that apron. Smile pretty, beg, and you can probably barter your way through saving a little. Or just be an idiot. I did both:

SMILE PRETTY TECHNIQUE: I was walking down a crowded street in France when all the sudden, I found it. Hanging amongst it's apron peers, I found the the most perfectest, cheesiest souvenir for my mother, an "I (heart) PARIS" apron.

Well I just had to have it. Buuuut, it was ten Euro, which is like $15, which is a little too much to pay for a cheesy apron, even if I had dubbed it the most perfectest. So before walking into the store to make my purchase, I sifted through my twenty Euro bills and found eight Euros in coins.

I maneuvered through the door and between the abundance of tourist attracting things (none better than my apron, by the way), and found the purchase counter. Behind it sat a plump man in a white wife-beater. He was balding on top, but the rest of his white curls dangled below his ears and intertwined with his mustache in a very French way, even though he looked Italian.

Putting on my saddest face, I held out my coins and the apron and said, "Eight Euro?" He looked me up and down, skeptical. Was I going to rob him? Was I going to steal the apron? He didn't even know, so he said, "No, that ten Euro. Take white instead."

I let my shoulders dip a little to portray the ultimate sadness his non-bartering was causing me, and told him it was for my mother. He looked me up and down again, his shoulders sagged, and he reluctantly nodded.

IDIOT TECHNIQUE: I was walking down a crowded market street in Italy when I saw the prettiestest (cheap) cameo ring EVER. I love cameos, and even if the thing looked like it came straight out of one of those machines at WalMart, I had to have it. It was one of our last days in Europe, and I didn’t want to come back with a bunch of unused Euros. So I went inside the tent, and asked the lady inside if she would take six Euros for it. “No,” she said with some weird mix of Italian and German accent, “That ring ten Euro. It antique.”

Well, I was curious to see if I even had ten Euros, so I dumped out my neck wallet on the floor and came up with eight Euros, which she did not accept. I then found some more coins that added up to 8.45 Euros or something, and by that point I think she was so annoyed with me that she just told me to take it. Woo hoo! See? Being an idiot isn’t always so bad.

*…No, I’m not kidding. Have the receipt to prove it and everything!

**When coming to Europe, BRING A TON OF FOOD. You will save so much money. I probably could’ve skipped lunch a lot if I had more peanut butter crackers. Sometimes I was starving and wanted to eat everything, but other times I really wasn’t that hungry and only wanted something small. And if I didn’t have cash, I was often put in the position where I had to buy at least ten Euros worth of stuff just to get an apple or slice of pizza with my debit card.

RUDENESS

Silvana (our tour guide) had just released us for a bit of free time in Rome, and all of us kids were much more interested in getting gelato than paying attention to where we were or what museums and statues were around us. After a while, you just. Stop. Caring.

I had been having trouble finding a working ATM machine anywhere, but knew I probably needed cash to get gelato since a lot of places in Europe only accepted cash for small purchases. But I was hungry, and the only thing I relied on to be edible was gelato, so gelato it was.

I followed Amanda, Keely, Courtney, and her mother to what looked like the perfect place to get gelato. But then again, Fools Gold LOOKS like Gold, but is it? NO. Only FOOLS think that.

I didn’t even want to think about what I wanted before I knew I could actually buy it with my debit card. Didn’t want to torture myself, ya know? So I grabbed the Italian Dude behind the counter’s attention and said, “Can I buy THIS (pointing to gelato), with THIS (pointing to debit card)? NO CASH, no cash,” I said slowly to the tall, dark, and handsome (and in a second EVIL) Italian behind the counter.

He nods slowly, scrunching his eyebrows together as if to say, “Girl please, I got you.” But in Italian, of course. “What Flavor?”

I tell him Chocolate and Fragola (strawberry). And then comes the handoff: He hands me my gelato, and I hand him the debit card.

“No,” he says, sticking obnoxiously pointed nose in the air and closing his eyes in the most dramatic, annoying way. “Only cash.”

I went on to say something to the extent of how I had JUST asked him if I could pay with a debit card, and right when I began considering throwing the gelato at him, Amanda saved the day and paid for me. So sweet Amanda, so EVIL Italian Dude.

FUN FACTS

Despite the numerous arguments that emerged on this trip over the correct conversions from American money to European, I stuck with the conversion facts I got from Google. They apparently change a lot, but this is what I used.

1 Franc = $1.08

1 Euro= $1.55

1 Pound= $1.88

And last, but not least, PICTURES!

TEASER

2009-06-27T09:50:00.000-07:00

Sort of.

The Europe Blog is taking a while, so I thought I'd give you somewhat of a TEASER of what's to come on marygarvinphotography.com. All these pics were taken in Europe, and they are all of friends that went with me. We had a ton of fun, and took some lovely pictures. Enjoy!

The Shelby Eaton Blog

2009-06-09T13:23:00.000-07:00

Until last night, I wasn't quite sure that my ramblings were catching anyones attention. Which I am cool with, because I LOVE RAMBLING. But Apparently, I have atleast one reader who so loves these blogs that she "vaguely" threatened me to post a ginormous blog before Europe, OR ELSE. As if she needed something to SUSTAIN her in my abstance. And I have proof! Here's the very threat itself!

So if you are displeased with this blog and I end up dead somewhere, Shelby, everyone will know it was YOU. But no need to do anything drastic, dear, 'cause I got your long blog right here. Ask, and you shall recieve. I asked for more requests and got a few, one from Julie, one from Maggie, and one from Megan. Sift through this long blog, and you'll find them somwhere in there. No particular order.

PUT YOUR HANDS UP
As I sit in the sanctuary of New Hope Church, I am asking questions. The worship music is loud, but sadly does not succeed in drowning my thoughts.
I am sitting Indian style on the floor in between two pews and two of my favorite people. Thomas Wilson is on my right, his outstretched fingers only centimeters away from my messy brown curls. His eyes are closed, so he is unaware of this awkward proximity we share. I want to stand up, but if I do, I will bump his guitar-blistered fingers and thus disturb his worship. If I shimmy to my left, I’ll bump into Brandon Clark, and bust his little worship bubble as well. So I sit. Indian Style. Playing with my Hair.
The voices above me are singing Hosanna, but I am refraining. I am distracting myself with possible escape routes that would enable me to get away with out bursting anyone’s bubble. I hate bursting bubbles, even if there were some bubbles in the room that I would love to not only burst, but completely demolish and erase from the earth. It would’ve been just like dropping the atomic bomb on Iwo Jima. It would be exactly like that, only in imaginary bubble terms.
I am angry because I can't worship. Rather, I can't sing passionately like those around me. Everytime I close my eyes (the mark of "true" and "sincere" worship) I feel fake. I began to feel like I was going through the motions, and was becoming overtly envious of the people who looked like they weren’t. I was zealously jealous of Thomas’s shaking fingertips and tear soaked eyes. I was envious of Brandon’s smile and prayer curved back. I was covetus of Megan’s high-held hands and jumping, spinning feet. Why couldn’t that be me?
I decided to doodle, because this is what I do when I want to avoid my life. I grabbed a “Tithes and Offerings” envelope and began to draw the lyrics of whatever worship song was playing in large block letters. “I Believe” was the first thing I heard, so that’s what I began to doodle.
While doodling, I began to ask myself if I was going through the motions of doodling to avoid going through the motions of worshiping, which would mean I was avoiding going through the motions of Christianity, which would be going through the motions of…
I hate when I do this. I go in circles in my head and come to the same thought that I do not want to hear. This is why I never ask anyone for help. Because by the time I have the opportunity, I have gone through every single possible aspect and suggestion they could come up with. It’s annoying, so I avoid it. This is exactly what I did in this case. I avoided it. Thomas had moved somewhere with more space to dance like the crazy Jesus fool he is, so I finally had space to escape.
I quickly made my exit from the sanctuary, past the lounge area, and through the glass doors before taking a sharp turn and sinking effortlessly to the ground beneath the West Texas starry sky. I exhaled, closed my eyes, and then rubbed them hard. When I drew my hands back they were black with watery mascara. Apparently, I was crying. So I looked up to the sky, and asked the Big Guy a very important question.
What do you want from me?
All I wanted to do was worship, and wasn’t that a good thing? Is that not what I was made for? Did God not give me a voice for His sole purpose?
As the back of my head dug deeper into the spackled exterior of New Hope Church, I felt something sharp poke my thigh through my jeans pocket. It was the “Tithes and Offerings” envelope with “I Believe” scribbled all over it. I was about to throw it away when…the Big Guy spoke to my heart.
What do you believe, Mary?
And that’s when I remembered my journey. There were times of jumping for me. But There were also times of emotionless, thoughtless worship sessions I attended only for social reasons. There were the nights of immense frustration, and the nights full of God's voice. Nights full of asking questions and having them answered before I even finished the thought, and silent nights.
At that moment in time, I chose to believe that worship didn't come in bulk. It’s independently manufactured, and independently sold to the Lord. Just as there are seasons during the year, there are seasons of worship.
I grabbed the “Tithes and Offerings” envelope and scribbled away. I completely dissected the thing. It was no longer an envelope. It was a fold out map of my thoughts on worship.
I Believe that worship is a process. I believe it’s about asking questions and later rejoicing in their answers. I believe it’s about being selfless and releasing the things that hinder and grasping the things of life. I believe that it's pupose can be forgotten, and can then be frustrating. I believe that it can be so beautiful that to an outsider it can be almost discouraging; making them feel as if such beauty is not to be shared with them. I believe that worship is sometimes a challenge...
Worship is not uniform. It is not bound to songs or lifted hands. It is not limited to standing and jumping, sitting or laying. It is limitless. It can be the way we live our lives everyday. It can be uttering Jesus’ name when no one else will.
The people around me were worshiping by singing and dancing, and I was envious of it. I thought that if I couldn’t do what they were doing, that I was not worshipping. That night I discovered that a great portion of my worship and development in Christ takes place in writing. Just as I am not to conform to the contours of the world, I am not to contour and restrain myself to the people I share faith with. Rather, I am to be the individual God made, and I am to worship the way He designed me to. I don’t need to put my hands up to worship, but that in no way is going to restrain me from doing so.

CROSS ROADS
As previously mentioned, I once had to write a research paper on the views of love in Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. Instead of trying to summarize the entire paper, I’m going to copy and paste my thesis statement, which is supposed to do the job nicely:
Jane Eyre is not simply a love story. It is a plea for recognition of individual worth (Themes 1), a masterpiece that confronts social issues, hypocrisy, and the struggle for true love. It is not a “happily ever after” story full of beautiful dresses and diamonds; but rather, it is an exploration of the complex nature of love. Jane Eyre is Bronte’s endeavor to portray that love is only acceptable and full when it is evenly balanced in an unconditional, faithful, passionate, and logical manner.
Love: This is an area I’ve always struggled in. Even though I wrote an entire paper on “balanced” love, and even though I wrote my SAT essay on how emotions shouldn’t be a main determinate in big decisions and USED Jane Eyre as an example of this, I still don’t know if I believe love is completely about balance. Should love be balanced? Should it meet at the intersection of love and logic? Say we meet someone who doesn’t meet up to our logical list of what we believe we want in the opposite sex, but we fall passionately in love with them before we could even say no. Should we grant mercy to their faults and issue unwavering love at the sight of true passion, or should we reject this person because it doesn’t make logical sense? Is unwavering love discarding the balance of love and logic, or is it the byproduct of the two?
No idiot would enter a relationship that was COMPLETELY unbalanced and unhealthy. Okay, let me rephrase that, I realize that one cannot have a successful relationship if it is unhealthy and unbalanced. Everything faith or love oriented seems to be all about balance. Balance your days between work, school, prayer, eating, bla bla bla and achieve ultimate success! That’s why we have schedules. We feel this need for balance. That’s why I make so many freaking check lists. I have to know that I’m doing things right, and need something to look at to reaffirm that I’m on the right track. I know things need balance.
What I want to know is this…. Should I really throw away a relationship with someone I love if he doesn’t meet up to my own standards?
I feel like the answer is yes. But it’s hard. When I think about this, I can almost feel the way the Titanic felt when it hit the Iceberg. That bittersweet, inevitable crush. I knew the answer all along. I knew the perfection must end. It was inevitable, too perfect, but shocking and painful all the same.

I LOVE LISTS
Megan’s Lists!
CDs I love/Want to buy
Fleetwood Foxes-Ragged Wood
Lorien-Esque
Fiest- The Reminder
William Fitzsimmons
Adele- 19
City and Colour- Bring me your love
Matt Kearny-ANY of his CD’s would be awesome

Favorite songs
Make the Deadeye Miss- Lorien
Of Confidence-The Dangerous Summer
Change Your Mind-Boyce Avenue
Go Baby-Lupe Fiasco
Little Weapons-Lupe Fiasco
Sensible Heart-City and Colour
Empty Corridors-Luke Pickett
Come on get higher-Matt Nathanson
The aaronic benediction(I think that’s what it’s called)-Misty Edwards
I will waste my life-Misty Edwards
This side-Nickle Creek
So much beauty in dirt-Modest Mouse
Bury me with it-Modest Mouse
When it rains-Paramore
We are broken-Paramore
Decode-Paramore
When our hearts sing-Rush of Fools
The Con-Tegan and Sara
Steer-Missy Higgins
Put your hands on me-Joss Stone
Untitled-Justin Trawick
Currently-Keaton Simmons
Wrapped around your finger-Kelsey and the Chaos
Everything-Lifehouse
That’s not my name-The Ting Tings
Wonderwall-Cat Power
The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot-Brand New
Love is waiting-Brooke Fraser
Albertine-Brooke Fraser

Favorite stores
Buffalo Exchange
Cream Vintage
Room Service
Strut
Uncommon Objects
Michaels
Wet Seal
American Eagle
Dillards

Favorite sites
RobotJohnny.com
Maggieshirley.blogspot.com
Shelbyisms.blogspot.com
BrittanyStrebeckphotography.com
Aricalanphotography.com
Theimageisfound.com
ThisNext.com
Twloha.com
Urbanoutfitters.com
Designbyhumans.com
Totallyrad.com
Bludomain.com
Deviantart.com

Favorite Photographers
Oh good God there’s a ton…

Fogke

Marty Bell

Moth Art

Robby Jencks

Hannah Havoc

Muska Hannah Capra

Trixie Pixie

Jamie Ibarra

pHeela

People whose names I can't remember...

VICTORY AT LAST!

2009-06-07T22:37:00.000-07:00

After a long and exhausting search, I FINALLY found someone to meet all my dorm needs! Say hello to Urban Outfitters, a store I vowed to never enter because of the high prices. I was unaware, however, that all of their apartment items are CHEAP. I bought all of this for under $150.

These bowls were four for $20. So I got two of each:)

I actually got these cups from Blanton Caldwell, so these were not included in that $150 quota.They were $30. So far, I've spent about $165 on dorm room stuff, and my budget is $200, so I'm doing AWESOME! And instead of being solid colors, my cups had really cool prints on them. I'd love to show you, but I don't have a card reader for the camera I took pictures of them on at the moment:(

Look! A mini-coat rack for JEWELRY! Where have you been all my life?!

So by the time I get back from Europe, I'll have some AWESOME dorm stuff waiting for me:) For anyone else looking for dorm room stuff, I recommend Thisnext.com. It allows people to make lists of items they love, and links you to the site they came from. ALWAYS trendy stuff, and even has fashion trends categorized into cities (London, New York, Austin, Paris...).

I also bought blue rope light (which will nicely match my rug), glow in the dark stars, and am taking two chinese lanters from my room with me. I am also going to try and make a mobile doodle wall to bring with me, which would be AWESOME. If you've never seen my doodle wall, this is what it (and my high school science teacher) looks like:

Okay, I'm going to bed now.

Nighty night!

Defensive driving is FUN

2009-06-06T14:49:00.000-07:00

Chris The Comedian is a part time teacher at Funny bones defensive driving in Austin, Texas. While taking his class today, I learned more about people and took more notes than I ever thought possible. So thank you Chris, for being juvenile and inappropriately hilarious to make defensive driving endurable.

"You know what's funny? The Whataburger dude sounds like a drunk. You know why I think he's a drunk?" Chris the Comedian said. "'Cause Mr. Whataburger is probably married to Miss Wandawhatawhore."

My defensive driving class consisted of twenty four people. Among them was one homeless girl, an abundance of hippies, and a pre-school school teacher who talked endlessly about her daughter, who's going to college in Spain. Which apparently is a very, very good thing.

"My daughter quit school for a little while, but she's finally back in school," the Pre-School Teacher said in her soft, old lady voice during a ten minute break. She sounded like (for lack of a better comparison) a Christian Conservative who's Liberal hippie daughter finally "saw the light" and became a conservative, thus meaning she was no longer destined for hell. But in a nicer way. "I'm just so proud of her."

I began to love The Pre-School Teacher, even if she constantly distracted me. She did not, by the way, need to be rambling about her daughter to be distracting. Oh, no. The Pre-School Teacher had enormously long toenails which protruded from her leather sandals in a very imposing way. I suppose she could have clipped them, but then what would she have to prove that she was from Austin? I concluded that is was for this very reason she neglected to clip her long, hippie toenails. They were proof of her hippie-hood, which is very, very important. To even further prove her hippie status, she kept dried fruit and brown rice in tiny plastic containers kept in her tiny, light brown leather purse. I love hippies.

The Homeless Girl wore all black, and had short cropped hair hidden beneath her black beanie, which failed to hide her Helix Piercing. She informed us all rom the very beginning that she recently lost her job and got kicked out of he house, and was now living in a shelter relying on food stamps. We never did find out why she was in the class, but we did know that much. She laughed and smiled and had a sarcastic joy about her misery, and her presence made me happy. She was going to join the Navy, and had lost 50 pounds all by herself. Now, her recruiter had given her a special diet and workout plan to follow to lose 15 more, which Chris the Comedian, of course, read aloud to all of us. I failed to write it all down, so just know it was absurd, and stressed how The Homeless Girl "MUST SWEAT!"

The Homeless Girl and The Pre-School Teacher brought tough competition for who had the oddest life, but I still think Chris the Comedian won. He once lived in an apartment on the edge of the ghetto, beside a midget who wanted to be a vampire, and above two gay men who knew a lot about fabrics. The ceilings were so thin in that place that he could hear the guy above him "taking a leak." Nice.

Chris the Comedian once worked as a shoe salesman in Dillards, which he know says was the absolute worst job of his life. One day, in between helping old ladies cram shoes around their bunions and callouses, disaster struck at Dillards with a vicious Ugg Boots shortage.

"I had all these little Westlake girls coming in asking me, "Where are the Uggs, Chris? WHERE ARE THEY?!" And I kept telling them we were out, but did they listen? No," he said. "So I said, "No little girl, we don't have any damn Uggs. You know why? 'Cause they can only slaughter so many sheep in Australia and turn them into your precious Uggs before they become an endangered species."

In between silly stories of Chris the Comedian's life, I did learn some very valuable things. Like how eight out of ten car accidents are caused by distractions! Alcohol, reading, eating, music, and texting. Chris the Comedian listed all of these on his dry erase board, writing the last in big bold black letters with "WTF" listed next to it. Chris the Comedian has not yet adapted to modern technology.

The best story I heard at defensive driving was the story about the dude impaled by a deer. This guy was driving down the road in the middle of nowhere when all the sudden he hit a deer. The deer went through his windshield and the antlers impaled the guy's chest. At first, the guy tries to pull the antlers out. After he realizes how STUPID that is, he does an oddly heroic thing and drives his impaled self to the ER, with the deer still laying on his dashboard. Very, very interesting.

If I didn't think it was so deviously fabricated, the story about Sputnik would totally kick Impaled Dude's butt. Sputnik is a 60 year old lobbyist that Chris the Comedian met at his last job at the Capitol. But Sputnik isn't just any old lobbyist. Oh, no. He's a world changer, seriously. With three missing fingers, the word "FREE" boldly tattooed across his bald forehead, and a breathing machine attached to his hip, Sputnik spends his days lobbying for motorcycling rights. Oh, how I love America.

Another thing I love about America is the vast abundance of vegetarians. A part of the defensive driving DEAL was the complimentary lunch (AKA, crappy pizza from down the street). Before ordering the food, Chris the Comedian asked for the vegetarians to raise their hand. About half the class raised their hand. We were in Austin, after all.

Want to know another fun fact I learned at defensive driving? This is for all you football fans out there. Forty one percent o fatal accidents occur after Superbowl Sunday. And something like twenty percent more people die in the town of the losing team. Hooray for fun facts!

In closing, I am going to list funny quotes that I heard during this course.

"Someone should name a car after Moses. The Moses 5000! LET MY PEOPLE COMMUTE!" "Drunk and need a ride? Call the Square Patrol! 1-800-R-U-DRUNK?"

"This video is in no way worse than the video they were showing when I was in high school. It was called, "Blood on the Road.""

"What would ever happen if you asked a foreign guy to go party? "Hey dude, wanna go get smashed? Wanna go get hammered? Plastered? S* faced? F*ed up? Wanna drop some bombs? Take some shots?" The dude would be like, "What? Are we going to war?" And you'd be like, "Yeah! With your LIVER!"

"I was once in a bar when a fight errupted. I immediately knew which guy was going to win because he kept going, "You wanna fight man? I got bail money in my sock man! In my sock!""

"Crap. We forgot Grama."

2009-06-02T00:25:00.000-07:00

Holy bajeezus, guys. This past week was insane. There was the Mental Meltdown in Pizza Hut, the Macbook Meltdown, the Macbook Resurrection, and finally, the Graduation Extravaganza! In the space of just one or two weeks, I experienced my first tastes of real-life uncertainty and got the feel of what it felt like to fully trust God with not just my heart, but my life. I'm not going to lie to you, it was absolutely horrifying.

So sometime the week before graduation, I walked in to Mr. Terrel's office (AKA The Principal Dude) and found out that I might not have been able to graduate. I took some online classes from Texas Tech and had some major problems with ordering my finals and receiving grades and...it was all very ridiculous. Bottom line, I couldn't walk the stage until Mr. Terrel had all of my grades from Tech in his hand. The only problem with this is that one, you can't verbally communicate with correspondence teachers from Tech. EVVVVEERYTHING is done through e-mail, which naturally takes FOREVER. Two, I am very used to teachers giving me "special" attention, and these people do NOT do that, and were not going to care if I didn't get to walk the stage, Putting a rush on things was difficult. In order to get my grades on time, my mom and I had to drive to Lubbock so I could take my English final ON CAMPUS. Boooo.

After the final, I thought I completely bombed it, and started bawling my eyes out. I felt like a failure. My mom tried to distract me with Pizza Hut, which did NOT work because I just ended up bawling in the middle of Pizza Hut with everyone staring at me while I wailed uncontrollably. Not fun, people. Not fun.

But it wasn't the whole not-being-able-to-graduate thing that had me panicking. Oh, no. Two nights before the Mental Meltdown in Pizza Hut, I broke my Macbook. Yep. That's right people, MARY GARVIN BROKE HER MACBOOK. How, you ask, could I EVER accomplish such a thing? Well, it all started when I decided that I needed to restore my Mac to factory settings. I duplicated a bunch of my photos and I found it easier to reset everything than to delete all the duplicates (which proved to be what Tyler would call an EPIC FAIL). Since I didn't know how to do this, I texted my friend Brett, who is a walking Macbook manual. He told me to re-install the installation software, but when I did, nothing changed. Because Brett is just not wrong about these things, I figured that I must have missed something, and decided to try again. In the middle of the installation, I got extremely aggravated and decided to quit the installation. My Macbook WARNED ME that if I did so, it probably would neglect to restart. I did it anyway, and guess what.

At this point, I believed that my best option was to go live in a hole and to not come out until Jesus came back. But I figured that if I was going to go insane, I probably shouldn't be alone, and should be around someone who generally makes things better. So I called Colt. He was over in a flash (a very rare thing for Colt, he must have sensed the insanity in my voice), with Jacob at his side to help me. They actually read the manual, and tried numerous ways to restart my Mac. No progress. By the time they left, I accepted that I killed my baby (I mean, my Macbook...), and would need to send it back for repairs. I remember telling Colt, "Good God. Now I know how parents feel when their kids are in the hospital. This is horrible!" I know. I like my Macbook too much.

With the death of my Macbook and the pressure of humiliating my family by not being able to walk the stage, a panic attack was pretty much unavoidable. I felt redonculously dumb I could break the invincible Macbook and fail my best subject. But through the tears my mom kept reminding me to trust the Lord and stop listing all the things I hate about myself. I don't do that very often, but when I do, she's the only one who can snap me out of it. I took her advice, and Lord took care of things. I got my grades in time, and I passed senior English with a 75 (the lowest grade I have EVER made in an English class, but this crap was hard*), and called Apple, who helped resurrect my Macbook. Next is Mr. Whittemeyer (my Canon all-in-one printer), who does not recognize his ink cartridges.

Graduation was simply awesome. I got a surprise scholarship**, and had a ton of family show up. After graduation, I went to Abilene and ate with my family at Outback Steakhouse instead of going to project graduation. My cousin and I decided to stay the night with my Dad in Abilene in the hotel room he and Kamilla were staying in. It was a very impromptu thing, and we didn't have any clothes for that night or the next day. So we, like any cool people would do, went to Walmart at midnight to buy $3 Hannah Montana pajamas and $10 dresses. It was AWESOME, especially since we changed into our pajamas right there in the Walmart restroom before we left. Anabelle (my adorable 6 month old sister) was SO good during dinner! I was so impressed. We were at Outback until like...11:30 or midnight, and she was awake and giggling the WHOLE time. So freaking cute.

When I got up the next day, my dad and I walked across the street from the hotel to the mall to buy random things for our cameras. It was quite lovely:) I love doing things like that with him. He's a good daddy. Me and Anabelle are so, so lucky.

After Kamilla and LaShelle (my cousin) got dressed, we all went to ACU for the grand tour. They all loved it, and wanted to go back to college there. Which, of course, made me feel extremely cool to be so envied. I love ACU.

Dad, Kamilla, and Anabelle all left after lunch, and LaShelle and I went back to Albany to watch Audrey Hepburn movies for the rest of the day. I edited MJ's senior pictures while everyone slept with my GLORIOUS Macbook (who needs a name, by the way. Any suggestions?), and my FANTASTICAL, brand spankin' new Adobe Photoshop CS4. Oh, and LaShelle and I also made a gazillion videos and pictures with Photobooth. So Much fun.

Today I woke up late and walked around down town with Shelby and later KaCee. KaCee and I found these AWESOME coffee cups at Blanton Cauldwell (hmmm. I don't know how to spell that name), which I will show you pictures of later. After shopping, KaCee and I ate Popsicles and discussed how weird it was that I am now an ALUMNI and that she was now officially a SENIOR.

...Then I made my family dinner, which consisted of chili, Angel Biscuits, corn on the cob, and cheese cake. Later, I went to Melany's to watch a movie and gave all the left overs to Colt, Melany, Jacob, and KaCee. It makes me happy to cook for people and make them happy. If I could do that all day, I totally would.

Fast forward to the present, I am taking a break from painting.*** I am working on a 3x7 foot mixed media mural that I am extremely excited about. It involves acrylic paint, sharpies, glitter, hot pink, metallic silver, orange, and black spray paint, and broken mirror pieces. Oh, and magazines, of course. If you know me, it's pretty much inevitable that I will have magazine clippings in almost all my work.

A last bit of interesting news, Mr. Thomas Wilson (Tom, as I love to call him) may become my official guitar teacher! Yay! I need to learn, and he needs a job, so wallah! We'll have to wait until after Europe, so darn. If all goes well I may just stay here for the summer and work at Wet Seal or the Buckle while learning to play like a pro. I also am thinking about moving into the ACU dorms ASAP, which is August 15. I need to buy a lava lamp and a duvet cover really really bad.

In closing, God is good. Throughout everything, I've learned that God provides. Look at all the things He's done for me guys! Graduating early, passing all my finals, the thousands upon thousands of dollars in scholarships and gifts, art supplies, health, friends, family, that whole salvation thing....Jeeeeeezzz. There are so many blessings I want to share with you, but the list would just go on forever and ever.

I am happy.

*For my English class at Tech, I had to write a research paper. I ended up writing it AT LEAST four times, and spent countless late night hours dissecting every paragraph with teachers and friends and STILL made a 69 on it. Geez. I'm a writer for goodness sakes!
**Beltway East (my church) gave me a scholarship! I didn't even know I was ALLOWED to get any scholarships from Albany. Early graduates aren't even allowed to apply for any local scholarships, so I was EXTREMELY surprised when they called my name. Yahoo! The Lord provides!
***It's almost four AM and I am still blogging. I love staying up late. It's quiet. I get to be alone. No more "suggestions" or to-do lists. Ahhhh.