College Years: Part 1

Since I was about 14 years old, I had always dreamed of going to BYU-Hawaii. As a family, we went to Hawaii on vacation, and being the hormonal, boy-chasing teenager that I was, saw all those beautiful men over there. Hahaha! We visited the campus for church one Sunday, and also the Laie temple, which is GORGEOUS! From then on, I was sold. I bought the picture of the Laie temple and put it in my room. I hoped I would be accepted one day. But then, as I became older and heard of how many people did not get accepted into there, I tried to be realistic about the situation. I decided I would probably end up going to BYU Provo in the end, which is a very nice school as well.

I prepared myself, and got ahead, for my entrance into college by taking some college courses while still in high school. My high school had a program that made it possible to attend nearby college classes, at a discounted rate, and get both high school and college credit for my work. I took classes at Northern Kentucky University as well as Thomas More College, in separate semesters. In addition, I took AP Calculus, which, upon passing the AP test at the end of the year, counts toward college credit as well. By the end of my Senior year of high school, I had about 33 credits, I believe, which put me already at a Sophomore level in college.

When it was time to apply for colleges, I applied for BYU Provo, BYU Hawaii, Utah Valley University, and Utah State. After hearing all of the stories how many people didn't get into BYU-Hawaii, I wasn't actually sure if I should apply, but thought I would anyway, for kicks.

When I checked for an online result of my application (after checking multiple times), I saw that I had been accepted into BYU-Hawaii! I could not contain my excitement as my eyes filled with tears. I told my mom, and she started crying as well. When I prayed about if that was the best choice to attend college, I felt very confident that it was the college for me.

Over the summer after my senior year, I visited my sister, Jenny, who was living and attending BYU-Idaho with her husband and son at the time. I stayed at their place and enjoyed every minute of it. I loved the feeling of the Spirit that was on that campus. I loved the people there, and the students I had met. I decided I would defer my BYU-Hawaii admission until the Fall Semester (I was supposed to start mid-summer, a.k.a. First Term, there) and give BYU-Idaho a chance for the Summer. It was a blast! I met some amazing friends, including Tiffany, Savannah, and Beatriz. We had so much fun together just acting crazy and attending classes together, other than my random bout of bronchitis during the term.

Rexburg, Idaho Temple (It's so much bigger than what I was used to, which was the Louisville, KY Temple!)

At Mesa Falls

At Yellowstone National Park- we were trying to smile, despite the smelly, hot gas coming from the earth

With my nephew, who was 18 months old at the time.

But, that summer came and went quickly, and before I knew it, it was time to leave for BYU-Hawaii. I has heartbroken to leave my best friends, but in my heart, I knew BYU-Hawaii was where I was meant to go. So, with my mom flying along to help me, I packed up my bags and headed for Hawaii.

High School Senior Year- Family vs. Soccer

After my car accident, I changed a lot, and so did most of my circle of friends.  But, mostly, my testimony changed. My attitude changed.

I saw how fragile life could be. I saw how one split second could change everything. I saw how most of my friends would come and go, but there are a select few who will stick it out with you, and family will always be there for you.

Before my senior year, I had a choice to make. It was going to be my last summer before I would head off to college. I could either spend a summer training and doing conditioning for my senior year on the soccer team, or I could take a trip with my dad to the airshow in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. We had been going to that airshow for years and years, but despite all the drama with my soccer team, I still wanted to play in my senior year. I sent the coach an e-mail describing my situation, and asked if I could take a week or so off from the conditioning so I could make this important trip with my Dad. I don't remember exactly what he said in his reply, but it was something along the lines of "you either come to practice, or don't come at all." Yeah, that sure made me feel like a valued team member. So, I decided to take the trip with my dad and give up my spot on the soccer team. I am so glad I made that decision. We had a fantastic time together, and I think it really helped me and my dad bond even more. Also, I think it showed my dad how much I really care for him. Through that experience, I learned that family is what is important in the end. After high school, it wouldn't really matter so much if I played soccer my senior year or not. It's not like I was good enough to get any scholarship from it, anyway. Family- that is what matters. Families are eternal. Soccer is just something fun on the side.

In my Junior year on the soccer team.

I got to sit in a Goodyear blimp in Oshkosh! How many people can say that?!

High School Years (Part 4)

This post is in continuation of my Personal History challenge that I've been trying to follow for 2014.

In my Junior Year, I was in my first (and only so far... knock on wood) car accident. I know it sounds cliché, but that experience truly changed my life- for the better.

I was working at Wendy's at the time, and I actually had the night off. A new employee asked if I could work for him that night, and I agreed, thinking I was doing him a nice favor. Work was fine, and after my shift was over, I drove next door to the UDF (United Dairy Farmers- yes, that's a name of a legit company, with oh-so-heavenly ice cream. That's beside the point) to fill up my car with gas. When gathering my money to pay, I had less money in my wallet than expected, and scrambled all around my car for any spare change I could muster up to pay the balance. Finally, after getting some weird looks from the cashier inside, who was probably wondering why it was taking me so long to get my money together and come inside to pay, I find enough money and pay my balance. Feeling embarrassed and frazzled, I quickly left the gas station in hopes of getting home soon and changing out of my greasy clothes.

I approached the stoplight by the corner of the gas station, and my mind entered "automatic" mode. Usually the light turns green as I approach it, but this time it didn't, and my brain didn't register that. I kept driving on through the intersection, staring blankly at the red light. Then, halfway through the intersection, my brain screamed at me- "THAT'S A RED LIGHT! GET OUT OF HERE!" Knowing I couldn't slam on my brakes, I stepped on the gas and hoped I could clear the intersection. I saw the traffic light for the opposite flow of traffic turn yellow. I turn my head back forward and see my headlights reflecting off something in front of me. I hear a loud pop, and then an unidentifiable, piercing scream, then an odd silence amongst the loud stereo blasting through my speakers. The lights and world around me stopped spinning. The screaming stopped. I realized, that screaming was... me? I had never heard that kind of sound release from my mouth- my soul before. My nose was in extreme pain. Was it broken? What did I hit my nose on?

I stepped out of the car in disbelief to see the damage. I was in such a state of shock that the thought of standing in the middle of that intersection, amidst oncoming traffic did not cross even my mind. I saw my dad's car- the hood crumpled to the point of almost reaching the windshield. Pieces of the car body split and hanging from both the front left and back right sides. Then I realized there was another car stranded in the intersection. I had hit someone, another car, a minivan. Through the crisp night darkness, I can see shadows in the minivan moving. The minivan has a dent and a flat tire, but I was worried of the damage I may have done to the passengers of the van. I saw a woman. In that backseat, I saw children. Oh, no! Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. I What have I done?! Did I hurt them? The mother is going to kill me! She will sue me! My dad?! Oh, my dad is going to kill me! This is his car! He's going to be so mad! She's going to sue me, she's going to sue me, she's going to sue me!

After what seemed like ages, the mother stepped out of the car and walked toward me. My mind continued to race.
I blurted, "Please don't sue me! Please don't sue me!"
She calmly spoke, "Are you okay? Me and my kids are fine. I already called the police. They're on their way. No, no; I'm not going to sue you. Just breathe."

The next moments were a blur, other than having to sit in the back of the police officer's car as crews cleaned up the mess on the road and towed our cars to the side of the road. I remember asking the cop waiting in the front seat if I was a bad person, and saying other fearful thoughts that were racing throughout my mind.

My mom was out of town, so I could not contact her to come pick me up. Fearful of my dad's reaction, I asked the police officer to call him. I knew my dad had been working on a trip and was due to come back home that night sometime. When he showed up, I sobbed hysterically in his arms, "I'm so sorry, Dad! Your car is ruined! Please don't hate me!"
He held me tight and said, "Cars you replace. I'm just glad you're okay."

The husband of the woman who was driving the minivan showed up to pick up his family. After checking on them and speaking to the police, he walked over to me. He must hate me. I did this to his family.

He spoke warmly, "My wife is fine. My kids are fine. My wife and I are more concerned about YOU. Are YOU okay?"
Baffled at his unselfish remarks, I could not comprehend what to say. Then, he uttered the words I'll never forget: "Can I  say a prayer for you, with you?'

Although I cannot remember the exact words that he spoke, I will never forget the feelings of forgiveness and love that washed over me at that point. What an incredible person and Christ-like love it must have taken to not only forgive me, but to feel sorry for me, and worry about my physical, mental, and spiritual well-being.

This was the moment I stopped yelling in my mind at my Heavenly Father, "Why me?!" This was the moment I started counting the miracles and blessings from this trial that changed my whole outlook on life

I had come up with enough cash to pay for my gas, when I thought it was impossible to find enough change in my car to do so.
I had survived this crash with no injuries (my nose hurting was from the airbag, and stopped aching after a little while).
The passengers of the other car were not seriously injured, either.
No one had to go to the hospital.
The other driver did not hate me, nor sue me.
She remained calm in the situation while I was having a panic attack and hyperventilating.
I did not get a ticket/fine for causing the accident, and only received a warning.
My dad had just finished his trip, where he had been out of town for several days, that night. So, he was home and in town to be there for me.
My dad was not upset about his totaled car; he was worried that I was all right.
The husband of the other driver and his wife were filled with feelings of concern and forgiveness for me- a complete stranger. A teenager, of all people.
The husband of the other driver was inspired and courageous enough to follow the prompting he felt to ask me if he could say a prayer right there, for me. He was not of my same faith, and it didn't matter. It still doesn't matter. We are both children of God, and in that moment, he was the messenger that told me the insurmountable love God has for me.

Even though that car accident was the scariest moment of my life to date, I do not regret that moment happening to me. In fact, I am extremely grateful for it.

God was watching over me during that car accident. I learned that God always watches over me. He never abandons me. Yes, He allows me to experience pain and trials and feel that the world is grossly unfair, yet He STILL blesses me through it all.

High School Years (Part 3)

This post is in continuation of my Personal History challenge that I'm working on, where I record my own personal history in order to share it with my family and friends in both the present and the future.

High school was a roller coaster. In 9th grade, the most I remember was just trying to figure everything out and how I fit in the picture. There were lots of people I did not know, and a lot of my friends from Middle School were in other classes. At that age, we were at the bottom of the totem pole, so to speak. We were the youngest of the high schoolers, and I tried to just not get run over in the hallways most of the time. I was in Choir that year, but when my other required classes conflicted with my schedule, I didn't take any more classes after that grade.

In 10th grade, I gathered up enough courage to try out for the soccer team. There was a new coach, who also used to be my 9th grade teacher, and he decided that instead of cutting people from the team after "tryouts," he would just put the not-the-best playing girls in a sort of "second-rate, backup team." Yeah, I was on that team. I was among the bench-warmers, who barely lifted my sorry butt off the bench unless our team had an enormous lead over our opponents, or in the unlikely case that all the players that were (supposedly) better than me all became seriously injured. And I mean, incapable of walking, kind of injured. *Phew* Okay, I really need to not work myself up about it. I honestly was not close to being among the best players on the team. After not playing soccer for about 4 years, I was a lot slower than most of the girls, and didn't know most of the tricks that many of the girls knew. On top of that, my whole soccer career up to that point, I had always played left full-back. My high school coach always insisted on putting me on some random offense position, because "we had plenty of good defense girls." Playing defense all your life and then all of the sudden being thrown into the front lines of offense is like stepping into a whole, another world.  *Sigh* It just... hurt... to feel like I had no real value to the team. As if I stopped going to practices and games, it would probably relieve more people than concern them... Okay, *end rant.*

Nonetheless, I still stuck with it on through my Junior year as well, and I even made it on the "Varsity" team that year, even though I was still warming up the Varsity team bench most of the time. I stayed on that team only for my love of the game, and for the friends I made on that team. I met and became good friends with Andrea, Chelsea, Sarah, and Erika.

To this day, the only one of those friendships that truly lasted, and even got stronger, through the years, was my friendship with Erika. We met when she needed a ride to our team pictures and I offered to pick her up. It was super awkward in the car at first, because we didn't really know each other at all. But, for some reason, after that, we hit it off. I spent many days hanging out and having sleepovers at her place. She slept over and hung out at my place, too, and pretty much every time she came to my house, she tried some kind of food she had never tasted before. Let's just say my family is a little bit more adventurous when it comes to fruits and vegetables, haha. My family didn't always stick with the normal apples and carrots, we also loved things like asparagus, peaches, etc. Yeah, real exotic, right? I still remember Erika's face when she tried a peach for the first time at my apartment. Let's just say she's not a fan of the fuzzy peel on the outside. Hey, props to her for trying it, at least!

Throughout soccer, she was my support that kept me coming to practices and games. She didn't care so much that I wasn't as good at soccer. Of all the drama and politics involved in that soccer team, she didn't care about all of that. She made me feel important, even if I wasn't one of the coach's "favorite, star players."

Yup, that's us... in all our teenage glory- as borritos.

Erika is so fun to hang out with. Whether it was the millionth trip to Taco Bell, jammin' and dancing crazy at a dance (or especially in our cars), having a thousand near-accident experiences when we're both in the same car, or having the ugliest cries of our lives over the phone, she was there for me. Heck, she even dressed up like a burrito with me so we could get free burritos from Chipotle on Halloween! We were there for each other during the biggest heartbreaks, trash talking the other person, even if we didn't know exactly what the other person was saying or crying about. I even tried (and failed) to switch high schools to attend the same one as her, when the boundaries changed right before my senior year. She even found a blind date for me to get me into her school's prom. I even call her mom, "Mom," and vice versa. Even when I went off to college and was busy with my new life out there, she didn't give up on me or our friendship. She still contacted me and made sure I was doing all right. She was my bridesmaid/maid of honor. She gave the most beautiful, sweet, heartfelt speech at my wedding reception, and made me bawl my eyes out. I was her bridesmaid/matron of honor at her wedding. My speech was, well, not as good as hers. Perhaps because people could hardly understand me through all my blubbering. Hahaha. She made plans for more than a year to save money, conspire with my husband about her plans, threaten my husband if he ever opened his mouth to me about her plans, fly out to Utah, and surprise me one random day after a dentist appointment. She practically adopted my children as her own niece and nephew, and spoils them rotten until she's broke. She worries about their health, happiness, and well-being almost as much as I do. She knows how important my faith is to me and my family, and respects me for it. She is patient with me even when life gets crazy and I'm not the best at calling, texting, or messaging her. I can act like myself around her. She is an extremely dedicated person. She is strong, and comes back up from trials in her life even stronger. She knows how to break it down with me when the right song comes on. Erika is extremely loving, caring, and all about respect. She knows when to tell me when I'm going a little too past the crazy boundaries. She is working hard to achieve her Vet Tech degree, and has an immense love for animals. She's caring and determined enough to even go vegetarian most of the time. I really look up to her strength, sense of humor, hard work, dedication, and love for others' well-being. I love her as my best friend, and I'm so glad she's in my life to help support me and get me through both the bad times and the good. I would definitely not be the same person I am today without her. (:

In our stunna shades: PEACE, dawg. She brings out my inner black woman.

Middle School/High School Years (Part 2)

This is part of my Personal History series of blog posts.

I attended Conner Middle School. It (as well as my high school, Conner High School) was only a 10 minute drive or so from my house.

I don't really look at my middle school years with too much fondness, other than some of the friends I had, as probably most people feel the same way. Middle school is compiled of those awkward years of ages 11-14, where everyone tries to be "cool," make new friends, and sometimes dump old friends in the process. It is a time where the body is changing and struggling between being half-kid and half-adult. It was a time of a lot of self-consciousness for me, and looking back, I think it was for most of my peers as well.

My favorite subjects continued to be Math and a little bit of Science, but I didn't normally admit that anymore, since liking those subjects didn't seem "cool." I also found a love and curiosity for art. I was not really good at all, but I just found it interesting and nice to do something different than busywork. I was in band for a little while, and played percussion, mostly the marimba and chimes. The boys in the class always took over the drums and cymbals before us girls had the chance to try them out.

In 8th grade, I made it on the dance team. I originally wanted to try out for the cheerleading team, since I had a little experience when I was younger with gymnastics. I ended up not trying out for that team, though, because I felt the girls had much more experience than me. Also, because I was so petite for my age, my mom was afraid they would make me a "flyer" (the one they toss up in the air and who ends up on the top of the pyramids, mostly). We personally knew a girl who was a "flyer" and had been dropped during practice, nearly causing her to be paralyzed. That pretty much scared my mom enough, and then me, to not try out for cheerleading. So, the next closest thing was to try out for the dance team. That was a lot of fun for me, as I loved dancing. I still love dancing to this day, yet lately it's been hard to find the energy to bust a move. The only hard thing was I was not the best on the team, so I felt like the other girls didn't really want me there. They all had had professional dancing experience for most of their lives, while I was more of a "freestyler." In that sense of the word, I just had fun dancing to the radio and making up my own moves, haha.

My good friends in those years were mostly Jessica, Jade, Aary, Ashley, DeNae, and Melanie.

My closest friends to this day from these girls (in which the friendships lasted from Middle School years to the present) are Jade and Aary.

I think I met Jade in Mrs. Petersime's algebra class. I don't even remember how we became friends after that. I'm pretty sure we did some projects for that class together, though. Jade is such a sweet girl. She is very selfless. I've seen her on multiple occasions give up some of the things she wanted in order to make someone else happy, or someone else's life easier. She is a great listener. She has such a fun personality with a great sense of humor. She is someone I could be totally weird and silly with, and she would just laugh and be silly too. She stuck with me as one of my best friends both before and after having my car accident in high school. She had just had a car accident the week earlier, and so she really understood how I was feeling and what I was going through. Most of my other friends seem to not care how emotionally traumatic was for me to have experienced that, but Jade knew. She helped me feel so much better, stuck by my side, and defended me when my other "friends" were teasing me about getting into a car wreck, and totaling my car. We ended up taking a lot of math classes together especially, even in high school. She was awesome at math, too. I remember her spending days and sleepovers at my house, and vice versa. She was one of my buddies at dances, and we would dance crazy all night. She was still my friend when it was "cool" for most of our other friends to just hang out and drink, even when I was eventually not invited because I would always turn down their invite if I knew my other friends were going to be drinking. She is still friends with me, despite my flaws. I can always be myself around her. She was also so excited for me to attend BYU-Hawaii, because she knew how much I had dreamed of going, despite it meaning I was moving thousands of miles away. She was even one of my bridesmaids at my wedding. She is an extremely hard worker. She endured through extremely difficult courses, graduated from UK, and passed the exam in order to be her dream, a R.N.  We may not always keep in touch that often, but I still love her as my friend, and I'm so proud of what she has accomplished so far in her life.

Jade and I at a dance.

I became really good friends with Aary around 8th grade when she had an "end of the year" party/sleepover. We were in the same math class, and I remember passing a lot of funny notes in class a lot. We became really close, and even more so in my high school years. I spent many days and sleepovers at her place. I spent so much time there, I started to call her mom, "Mom." We were both boy crazy, like, to the extreme. She still had me beat by having many more boyfriends than I ever had, and we had lots of fun acting crazy and talking about boys most of the time. She was big into dancing pretty much the whole time in our school years that we were friends. She eventually made it into the top class at her studio, and had won several awards both personally and with her team. But, just because she was a dancer, don't think she was the type of person that acted dainty and soft, haha! We would have burping contests, dancing contests, and even wrestling contests. We were always competitive against each other, always in good fun, of mostly everything: boys, grades, you name it. She was also my buddy at dances that would break out her moves on the dance floor with me. Some of our friends even started calling us the "Uh-Oh Oreos," meaning we're white on the outside, but we are practically black on the inside, especially when it came to dancing. We didn't mean it in a racist way at all. From those I've met, I think most people would agree that most black people are naturally better dancers than the majority of white people. Aary and I could just feel the beat and know how to move to it. She is such a crack up. We would always be crazy and silly together, maybe even to the point that it freaked people out, but we didn't care. It was actually more fun if we got weird reactions from people because we knew how crazy we were acting. On the other side, Aary is also a great listener. She was there through some very hard break-ups. She helped my self-confidence grow tremendously by always making me feel valued as her friend. She is friends with my true self, and all the craziness that comes along with it. I don't have to act like someone else around her. She's an extremely hard worker. She graduated from EKU and even went on an internship in Costa Rica to study primates. Now she's working with many wild animals (and kids, haha) at an outdoor education center. She seems to really love her job right now. I love her as a friend, and I cherish our friendship. I might not always do the best to keep in touch with her, but I know our friendship will last over time because of the bond we had in school.

Aary and I on one of our last days as Seniors.

Elementary/Middle School Years (Part 1)

This is in continuation of my Personal History Challenge.

I went to Burlington Elementary School. I would say the teacher I ended being closest with was Mrs. Troutt. She was my 4th grade teacher. It's not as though she taught my favorite subject. In fact, she taught one of my least favorite subjects- English. She was my "home" teacher, meaning that's the classroom I was in for times other than the normal class subject times, such as the beginning of the day, end of the day, etc. I loved her because she really made me believe in myself. I hated writing, but she gave me confidence that what I wrote was worth while. She definitely wasn't an easy grader when it came to our writing portfolios (required by the state to write a certain number of papers for that year). She wasn't afraid to challenge me. I had to work really, really hard for the good grades. But, in the end, it pushed me to be a better writer after that. Now, I'm not saying I'm an excellent writer now. But, the fact that she made me feel my thoughts were/are worth while probably even helped me have the confidence to start this blog in the first place.

In addition to my friends Lydia and Michelle, that I mentioned in the previous post, my other friends throughout elementary school were Alicia, Ashley, April, Morgan, Stacee, Jackie, Tiffany, and Lesilee.

During those years, I found a love for gymnastics. I went to classes with Alicia. We had a ton of fun. I even had a birthday party once at the gymnastics gym. The teachers seemed to have great confidence in me, and kept moving me to higher levels. But, living in a family of 6 kids, money was pretty tight, and as the monthly fee to take the classes became too high, I had to stop going. It was devastating at first, but then that's when I decided to move on to another sport- soccer.

I started soccer when I was about 8, I believe. Our recreational team was called the Stars, or something like that. I have honestly never been "awesome" at soccer, but I loved the sport! I played left full-back pretty much the majority of my soccer-playing years. I just loved the idea of being on defense, where the other team would be rushing down the field at me, and then I would kick the ball away as far as I could and help save us from being scored on. I played up until the 7th grade, where then my friends on the team were either going to Club teams or working to try out for the high school team. Even though I quit then, I still missed playing soccer a lot. Finally, I got the nerve to start an indoor soccer team for a little while. There was both girls and boys on the team, and I was actually the oldest on my team, which was pretty awkward. But, I found great fun in playing indoor soccer. It was a lot more fast-paced than outdoor was, but it was especially fun to be able to use the walls to help bounce the ball around your opponent.

After that, in 10th grade, I got the nerve to try out for the high school team. (That's for another post, coming soon about my high school years, though.)

In school, math and science were my favorite subjects. I loved being outdoors learning about how everything worked together. I was pretty good at math, so naturally, that's why I liked it.

At the end of elementary school, my family and I got to go to Europe to see where my brother Carl and my sister Jenny were born and raised for the first few years of their lives. They had lived in Germany because my dad was stationed there in the Army. During that trip, we got to visit Germany, Austria, Italy, and France. Actually, my family (who flew standby) made it all on the flight home, except for my Dad and I. We had to try and fly through France, but got stuck there overnight. We decided to ride the Metro and go to the Eiffel Tower together. It was so much fun, and I remember eating lemon crepes from a food truck/stand right next to the Eiffel Tower. What a wonderful memory.

I was indeed a "Daddy's Girl." Okay, maybe I still am? Everyone knew it. I just seemed to take interest in some of the same things my dad did, so naturally, I liked to hang out with him. He's a pilot, and I learned to love flying. He loves the outdoors, and went with me on a few Science field trips (to Red River Gorge as well as Tennessee). He is a big tease, and I was usually his favorite subject to tease. My dad is such a wonderful example to me. He's such a spiritual giant to me, is very tender-hearted, and has also taught me that a little sense of humor goes a long way.

Our "Daddy-Daughter Dance" at mine and Jonald's wedding reception

Personal History Challenge: Early Childhood

Like I said in my earlier post, I was born and raised in Kentucky. Growing up in that house was fun. What I remember the most would be playing in the yard, playing Barbies with my sisters, and playing with friends, and pedaling bikes, riding scooters (just the kind you push with your foot), and taking walks up and down our street.

Lydia was my first best friend. She lived in a house down the street from me. I remember often walking down the street to go to her house and play, especially on the swing set. It was so fun having a best friend right down the street from me. At first, we went to the same elementary school together as well. We rode the bus together. One of my first memories of us is waiting for the bus to go to Kindergarten. We were both scared and nervous, but excited as well. Later, they moved to a bigger house so they could have more space and own horses. Their new house was not too far down the road, maybe 5-10 minutes. I still came over to their house a good amount after they moved. I loved playing with their dogs, cats, and bunny, as well as feeding, petting, and riding their horses. Over time, life has caught up with us, but I still enjoy catching up every now and then with this sweet girl. She has such a good sense of humor that I love to see through her Facebook posts and pictures.

I feel like a house is so much more fun growing up when you have pets. I, myself had a yellow pet parakeet named Tickles. At one time, we had 3 cats, a dog, 2 parakeets, a hamster, and fish. My sister had a bunny at one time as well. The cats names were Stripes (black,brown, and tan stripes), Cotton (all white), and Sage (all grey). Our dog was a cocker spaniel named Lady. She had golden fur and looked like Lady from Lady and the Tramp, but we named her that before the movie came out. I remember we were so excited when that movie came out, though. I don't remember any names for the bunny, hamster, or the fish. The parakeets were named Joice (green, yellow, and white, with a blue tail) and Tickles (all yellow except for blue dots on his cheeks).

My sister Jenny got Tickles for me for my 8th birthday, I believe. I named him that because of the way his feet tickled my me when he would walk on my arm. He was a fun bird to have, but he was sure loud and messy. He liked to wake up really early in the morning and tweet like crazy. He also enjoyed going to the bottom of the cage and flapping his wings, causing feathers, seeds, and poo to fly all over the place. I liked holding him, but more than that I liked closing my door to our room and letting him fly around. His wings were clipped initially when we got him, but I didn't have the heart to have them clipped after that. I thought it would make him sad, or hurt him, and I thought birds were meant to fly, so his wings stayed un-clipped from then on.

My little buddy, Tickles

One day, the window was cracked open to let in a little air, and Tickles climbed out the window, up the screen, and flew out the corner of the screen that was detached. I thought he was long gone, so my mom took me to the pet store to get another bird. My favorite lunch lady at school was named Joice, so that is where I got the name for my bird. Funny how kids get their names for pets, huh?

When we got home, I saw Carl, my brother, outside. He had spotted tickles in a nearby tree. After chasing him around the neighborhood a bit, Carl finally caught him in the lilac tree next to our porch. So, that's how we ended up with two birds. To make it fair, since Renee didn't have her own pet yet, we agreed Joice would be hers, since I still had Tickles.

In the 1st grade, I made my second best friend, Michelle. I actually don't remember how we met or became friends in the first place. (My "mommy" brain has gotten the best of my memory these days. I guess it's a good thing I'm typing these things up sooner than later, before my memory gets any worse, haha!) I think we were in the same class, with Mrs. Owen. What I do remember is that once we became friends, we were pretty much inseparable for a good number of years. We both have a love for animals, and I remember both of us collecting Beanie Babies and showing each other which ones we had. We both loved the cats, especially. I remember her saying how much she wanted to be a veterinarian when she grows up, and that's exactly what she's working on and going to school for today. Talk about being determined and following your dreams! I think she's the only one I know who actually is going to end up doing and being what she wanted to be as a kid. The rest of us crazy people, including me, have changed our minds a billion times before we come up with something we figure we'll stick with.

I remember I got her and I butterfly, mood-color-changing, best friend necklaces. I still have that necklace in my stash of old jewelry somewhere. Even though it looks pretty old by now and it's not something that's in my fashion sense that I would wear these days, but I can't part with it because it has too many good memories attached to it. Although our friendship has become closer, more distant, closer again, more distant, etc. over time, I still love seeing updates of her life online and getting to chat every now and then. She's a great, sweet, hardworking, funny girl, and I hope we can continue to catch up with each other, every now and then, over time and just stay in touch.