tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75606481438458375162024-03-13T23:11:10.689-07:00grâce ramageJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-50845001892658775142012-08-24T14:27:00.000-07:002012-08-24T14:27:19.296-07:00in the backseat of August.Listening to: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvoDsX2YeVk" target="_blank">Angel Flight</a> by Radney Foster<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2-RTdJVH1SnW6vUGRmYvLEd0MXlmnRecAoqLAOTrClryw-kjyDJDAzfxnjyZnyO2OENpyJahRN12LiHOSZlyRVNpnuSnUBihFqimjyL7P-5jfdkkP_IUM0T1F6ijZPnhn11K1mHS0yI/s1600/moon+0090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2-RTdJVH1SnW6vUGRmYvLEd0MXlmnRecAoqLAOTrClryw-kjyDJDAzfxnjyZnyO2OENpyJahRN12LiHOSZlyRVNpnuSnUBihFqimjyL7P-5jfdkkP_IUM0T1F6ijZPnhn11K1mHS0yI/s640/moon+0090.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This time of year comes every twelve months or so, and maybe it's just me, but late August always brings homesickness. It's not even homesickness, really, just a longing for a time when a familiar feeling comes back.<br />
<br />
It's not even the season that's my favorite, it's a feeling.<br />
<br />
It's the feeling of the frosted October breeze as it whispers through the eventide. Denim jeans and fur-lined boots. Empty notebooks and leaves that scuttle across the gravel. And the way the trees sway way up in the sky.<br />
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Roasting marshmallows and late night bonfires. The feeling of home when you sit on a tailgate watching the flames reach to caress the sky. Scarves and hand-knitted hats.<br />
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It's the feeling of longing when you're standing in the heat by the road, watching the skies for the northerner that the weatherman promised that day. Watch it come in, watch the way the tall grass rolls under the first gust of wind in the distance, sailing closer and closer until the heat leaves to a crashing burst of cold.<br />
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Guitar strings and candles. It's pumpkin pie and hot chocolate with marshmallows.<br />
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It's a hayride while you and a candy apple are wrapped snugly in a quilt, nestled under the night sky.<br />
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Cold air.<br />
<br />
Gloves and mittens.<br />
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Bright colors.<br />
<br />
Poetry.<br />
<br />
Sweaters.<br />
<br />
Denim jackets.<br />
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I love this time and I love this life, but right now, sitting in the backseat of August, I'm homesick.<br />
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xo,<br />
jessie suzanneJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-55747094856538802292012-07-03T21:29:00.000-07:002012-07-03T21:29:19.415-07:00when life gives you lemons, make salt scrub!<br />
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I've been plotting to make this for three months, but I can't find the right jar to store it in (I know that's a crazy weird excuse, but I really <strike>care about</strike> have an obsession with jars)... It needs to look gorgeous and interesting. I got the store-bought version of this (just before I found the recipe, and just before I started the Epic Jar hunt), and the ingredients were generally the same; it was absolutely amazing!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Lemon Scrub</div>
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<ul>
<li><i style="background-color: white;">5 tablespoons sea salt</i></li>
<li><i style="background-color: white;">1 tablespoon olive oil</i></li>
<li><i>1 lemon</i></li>
</ul>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>First mix the olive oil and sea salt together. Once the salt gets coated by the oil, the lemon won’t dissolve it. Next cut the lemon in half and squeeze over the salt + oil. Mix to your liking, then scrub away!</i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">recipe courtesy of </span><a href="http://thebeautydepartment.com/2011/05/kitchen-beautician/" style="background-color: white;" target="_blank">The Beauty Department</a></div>
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xo<br />
<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-59312562647912673942012-07-02T14:44:00.001-07:002012-07-03T20:10:51.601-07:00a gazillion pictures of the coastListening to: God's Not Dead by Newsboys<br />
Quote love: <span style="background-color: white;">"People aren’t problems to be fixed. People are people, for us to walk alongside and journey with and help pick up the pieces with and, when they drop them again, to get back down and help them pick them up again. And that’s real love - without condition and without expectation." -</span><span style="background-color: white;">Brooke Fraser </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2w7PtHdy5zUeGtFUvQ7ZPWxuQp7sODcGDOfH2HGIEylanktuABgHrnBaQIAWfsZgPWuTSFGJIOPrrofSb4bWm5VwSFZnNbNLhPSX25wVi2ymFoz7iuYOPoss_YsEEYVD6PSUX1YA61E8/s1600/Mustang+Island+2012+035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2w7PtHdy5zUeGtFUvQ7ZPWxuQp7sODcGDOfH2HGIEylanktuABgHrnBaQIAWfsZgPWuTSFGJIOPrrofSb4bWm5VwSFZnNbNLhPSX25wVi2ymFoz7iuYOPoss_YsEEYVD6PSUX1YA61E8/s640/Mustang+Island+2012+035.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhscOv_R4C5ubAu6T8AQ1ENMiMAWyZF9US1_MUhi6jusvtXnRnZnJiEPAlcm6xS-r57FgdXfw507Ppk3jwlPMABhYj8VnY1VNS20rEOEaQTfitQxpkL_ow-5GBnpCzUJWdDtBoVNtkfPY8/s1600/Mustang+Island+2012+033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhscOv_R4C5ubAu6T8AQ1ENMiMAWyZF9US1_MUhi6jusvtXnRnZnJiEPAlcm6xS-r57FgdXfw507Ppk3jwlPMABhYj8VnY1VNS20rEOEaQTfitQxpkL_ow-5GBnpCzUJWdDtBoVNtkfPY8/s640/Mustang+Island+2012+033.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm the luckiest girl in the world. :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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See that seaweed? I almost died when I floated into that in the water. <span style="background-color: white;">I know I probably have issues...</span><span style="background-color: white;">Whenever seaweed got near me, I started screaming while frantically climbing up my boyfriend's shoulders.</span></div>
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Okay, I got over the seaweed thing after about thirty minutes. My friend floated by and she grabbed some and threw it at me. After yelling, "NO," I kinda had to throw some back. Why? Because we're in Texas and we don't have snowball fights, we have seaweed fights. Bwahaha.<br />
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When Justin dropped me off at the house that night, my parents were walking outside. <span style="background-color: white;">I didn't know how burned and tanned I was until my parents were able to see it at 11:00 at night. </span><span style="background-color: white;">I stepped out of the vehicle and Papa says, "</span><span style="background-color: white;">Whoa</span><span style="background-color: white;">. You're really tanned...you're practically glowing." My face still feels...crunchy. All of us were burned, but it was a <i>lot</i> of fun, so it's perfectly okay. I'm already plotting to go back before the summer's over...</span><br />
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xo,<br />
Jessie SuzanneJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-89134251924037262432012-06-16T19:41:00.001-07:002012-06-16T19:43:52.665-07:00jessie suzanne<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>It's raining outside and I have a cup of cinnamon tea; this day calls for a bucket list. </i><br />
<i>Have a wonderful day, lovelies. </i></div>
<br />
1. My boy side<br />
[] I love hoodies.<br />
[] I love jeans.<br />
[] Dogs are better than cats.<br />
[] It’s hilarious when people get hurt.<br />
[] Shopping is torture<br />
[] Sad movies suck<br />
[x] You own a car racing game.<br />
[] You played with hot wheels cars as a kid.<br />
[] At some point in time you wanted to be a firefighter.<br />
[x] You owned a ds, ps2, ps3, n64, or sega.<br />
[] You used to be obsessed with power rangers.<br />
[x] You have watched sports on tv.<br />
[] Gory movies are cool.<br />
[x] You go to your dad for advice.<br />
[x] You hate drama.<br />
[] You own like a trillion baseball caps.<br />
[] You used to collect hockey cards.<br />
[] Baggy sweats are cool to wear.<br />
[] It’s kinda weird to have sleepovers with a bunch of people.<br />
[x] Green, black, red, blue, or silver are one of your favorite colors.<br />
[] You love to go crazy and not care what people think.<br />
[] Sports are fun.<br />
[] You talk with food in your mouth.<br />
[] You sleep with your socks on at night.<br />
<br />
2. My girl side<br />
[x] You love to shop.<br />
[x] You wear eyeliner.<br />
[] You wear the color pink.<br />
[x] You go to your mom to talk.<br />
[x] You consider cheerleading a sport.<br />
[x] You hate wearing the color black.<br />
[x] You like going to the mall.<br />
[x] You like getting manicures and/or pedicures.<br />
[x] You like wearing jewelry.<br />
[xxxxx] You cried watching The Notebook.<br />
[x] Dresses are a big part of your wardrobe.<br />
[] Shopping is one of your favorite hobbies.<br />
[] You don’t like the movie star wars.<br />
[x] You are/were in gymnastics.<br />
[x] It takes you around one hour to shower, get dressed, and make-up.<br />
[] You smile a lot more than you should.<br />
[x] You have more than 10 pairs of shoes.<br />
[x] You care about what you look like.<br />
[x] You like wearing dresses when you can.<br />
[] You like wearing high heel shoes.<br />
[] You used to play with dolls as little kid.<br />
[] You like putting make-up on others.<br />
[] You like being the star of everything.<br />
<br />
3. Appearance<br />
[x] I am shorter than 5′5″.<br />
[x] I have many scars.<br />
[x] I tan easily.<br />
[] I have green eyes<br />
[] My eyes change color<br />
[] I have blue eyes<br />
[] I wish my hair was a different color.<br />
[] I have friends who have never seen my natural hair color.<br />
[] I have a tattoo.<br />
[] I am self-conscious about my appearance.<br />
[] I’ve had/have braces.<br />
[x] I’ve been told I’m attractive by a complete stranger.<br />
[x] I have more than two piercings.<br />
[] I have/had piercings in places besides my ears.<br />
<br />
4. Experiences<br />
[x] I’ve gotten lost in my city.<br />
[x] I’ve seen a shooting star.<br />
[x] I’ve wished on a shooting star.<br />
[] I’ve seen a meteor shower.<br />
[] I’ve gone out in public in my pajamas.<br />
[x] I’ve pushed all the buttons on an elevator.<br />
[] I’ve been to a casino.<br />
[] I always get mistaken for much older than I actually am.<br />
[] I’ve been skydiving.<br />
[] I’ve gone skinny-dipping.<br />
[] I’ve drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour.<br />
[x] I’ve crashed a car.<br />
[] I’ve been skiing.<br />
[] I’ve been in a musical.<br />
[x] I’ve caught a snowflake or snow on my tongue.<br />
[] I’ve seen the northern lights.<br />
[x] I’ve sat on a rooftop at night.<br />
[x] I’ve played a prank on someone.<br />
[] I’ve ridden in a taxi.<br />
[] I’ve seen the rocky horror picture show.<br />
[] I’ve eaten sushi.<br />
[] I’ve been snowboarding.<br />
<br />
5. Relationships<br />
[] I’m single.<br />
[x] I’m in a relationship.<br />
[] I’m engaged.<br />
[] I’m married.<br />
[x] I miss someone right now.<br />
[] I've played with someone's emotions on purpose before.<br />
[] I’ve gotten divorced.<br />
[] I’ve told someone I loved them when I didn’t.<br />
[] I’ve told someone I didn’t love them when I did.<br />
<br />
6. Honesty/Crime<br />
[] I’ve done something I promised someone else I wouldn’t.<br />
[x] I’ve done something I promised myself I wouldn’t.<br />
[x] I’ve snuck out.<br />
[] I’ve lied to my parents about where I am.<br />
[] I’ve cheated while playing a game.<br />
[] I’ve run a red light.<br />
[] I’ve witnessed a crime.<br />
[x] I’ve been in a fist fight.<br />
[] I’ve been arrested.<br />
<br />
7. Random<br />
[] I can sing well<br />
[] Stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant.<br />
[] I open up to others easily.<br />
[] My parents are divorced.<br />
[] I watch the news.<br />
[] I don’t kill bugs.<br />
[] I sing in the shower.<br />
[x] I am a morning person.<br />
[] I've been abused.<br />
[x] I paid for a cell phone ring tone.<br />
[] I am a sports fanatic.<br />
[x] I twirl my hair.<br />
[x] I care about grammar.<br />
[] I have “?”s in my screen name.<br />
[] I’ve copied more than 30 cd’s in a day.<br />
[] I bake well.<br />
[x] My favorite color is either white, yellow, pink, red, blue, black, purple, or orange.<br />
[] I would wear pajamas to school.<br />
[] I like Martha Stewart.<br />
[x] I know how to shoot a gun.<br />
[] I laugh at my own jokes. 'Cause they’re funny.<br />
[] I eat fast food weekly.<br />
[x] I’ve not turned anything in and still gotten an A in a certain class.<br />
[xxxxx] I can’t sleep if there is a spider/cockroach in the room.<br />
[x] I am ticklish.<br />
[] I love white chocolate.<br />
[x] I bite my nails.<br />
[] I’m good at remembering faces.<br />
[x] I’m good at remembering names.<br />
[] I’m good at remembering dates.<br />
[] I honestly have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.<br />
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<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-24235201486101086942012-06-15T12:06:00.000-07:002012-06-15T12:06:21.620-07:00recent stuff.<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Listening to: I Know These Hills by Kevin Costner & Modern West (feat. Sara Beck) - I love the violin; it's so gorgeous.</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Small announcement: I finally made it to Tumblr! If you have an account, you should so </span><a href="http://semblanceofgossamer.tumblr.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">follow me</span></a><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">... :)</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Quote love: "Tis better to have loved and lost<br /> Than never to have loved at all."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> -Alfred Tennyson</span></div>
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<em>Eh, I know that's probably not the most epic title, but I can't seem to think of one more fitting. Heheh...</em></div>
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<em>I'm extremely sorry for the lack of posting. I hope I will be able to post more regularly.</em></div>
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My grandparents are in Alaska right now, visiting my uncle and his family. My mom and I are house-sitting for a month or two, along with my cousin and her two kids. It's been pretty interesting around here lately, to say the least. </div>
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I went on a walk with a cat and a bottle of vanilla Coke earlier, just because I can't bear to stay inside on summer evenings. In Texas summers, evening or dawn is pretty much the only time to take a walk, what with the midday temperatures reaching up to 105 Fahrenheit. I strolled to the back pasture, looked to the field adjoining ours, and noted that I was being watched by nine speckled calves and another cat. </div>
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There was no wind, and it was still pretty warm, but nonetheless, the sunset was stunning, the calves munched quietly and Lobo padded silently alongside me. Is stayed out for about thirty minutes or so, then came back inside to help with making laundry detergent.</div>
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I really love living in the country. So much.</div>
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By the way, you should seriously listen to this song; it's from the soundtrack of the TV series The Hatfields & McCoys. The guitar and violin is <em>amazing</em>.<br />
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-Jessie Suzanne<br />
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<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-78264953601467051912012-05-15T20:15:00.000-07:002012-05-17T21:32:42.012-07:00brimming with blue.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Listening to:</b> Carrying Your Love With Me by George Strait</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Lyric love: </b>Some dreams stay with you forever, </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">drag you around and bring you back to where you were. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Some dreams keep on getting better, </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">gotta keep believing if you wanna know for sure. {Even If It Breaks Your Heart by Eli Young Band}</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><b>Quote love:</b> "Courage is not a man with a gun in his hand. It's knowing you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do." -Atticus Finch {To Kill a Mockingbird}</span><br />
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Have you ever noticed that time covers things up? It's slow sometimes, but it does; like a rug pulled over a scrape on the new hardwood floor.<br />
<br />
This afternoon, my dad and I were waiting in a parking lot facing the highway. An empty lot was laid out across the road, with weeds spiraling up from the ground like miniature fireworks. The sun and wind curled around the occasional cactus, waving the tall grass.<br />
<br />
It had never been used, it seemed like. I was staring at it, zoned out in admiration of how an empty lot could still seem nice in that sunny, small town kind of way.<br />
<br />
<b>"You know there used to be a restaurant in that lot over there?" </b><br />
<br />
Um, no...<br />
<br />
<b>"Yeah, it closed down years ago, when you were little."</b><br />
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It just made me think about how landmarks can die. I mean, I didn't know that there was a building there until someone mentioned it. And after a while, people will stop talking about it, and the kids will never hear about it. And some generations later, a scant few will know about the tiny building that sold fried chicken.<br />
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The business went south, the building was demolished. And the grass grew back, cactus prickled and grew, and the cars kept rolling by.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
But there's a Dairy Queen next door, so it all evens out.</div>
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Oh, yeah. You need to listen to them. ^</div>
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I love their music. It has this raw, tragic sentiment that puts one in the mind of wood-framed houses, open windows, old riddles, and summer in the late 1800s. Nostalgia, I suppose. I listened to their music on repeat until my mind was crowded with inspiration. It was weird. I ended up drawing, which finished pretty well.<br />
<br />
Gnarled oak trees with swings,<br />
gravel roads,<br />
aged fences, <br />
a winding muddy river<br />
&<br />
sweltering afternoons.<br />
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<span id="goog_1409526234"></span><span id="goog_1409526235"></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kindly ignore the grainy-ness...</td></tr>
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<br />
I looked outside earlier and saw a sunset. There were clouds brimming with blue riding the southern wind, and they moved toward the old sun as if to tuck it in as it slept. I saw it through the window, and I <strike>walked calmly</strike> ran through the yard to the road.<br />
<br />
Because even though it's millions of miles away, knowing you're a little bit closer makes you feel like you've got just a mile to go.<br />
<br />
I was taking pictures with my phone but the lighting wasn't right*. So I resorted to snapping pictures of the fence post I was leaning against. I watched it until a cloud covered it momentarily. The rays sent the very last sparks into the eventide, like all the last words one would say in a voicemail if their plane fell from the sky. When the distant oaks growing on the horizon looked like they were on fire, and only a tiny speck of the sun was still here, I walked back home to the company of the bulldog.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> -Jessie Suzanne</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*It's a distressing moment when you remember your camera's batteries are dead. Extraordinarily distressing.</span><br />
<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-87411513567961787652012-05-10T20:23:00.000-07:002012-05-10T20:23:05.692-07:00thingsListening to: My Father's Father by The Civil Wars<br />
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This girl is graduating this Saturday! I have no idea how it came to that, but it did, apparently. I've been wanting to write for days, but I have so many things to post about. I have three other posts in drafts right now, if that's any clue as to how scatterbrained I've been as of late.<br />
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<b>Thing 1:</b> <i>The Avengers.</i> Fairly amazing movie, if you ask me. My mom and I went to see it on Monday, and I've decided something: I <i>have to have</i> one of those lovely, enormous, flying, armored creatures that wiggle.<br />
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<b>Thing 2:</b> Because I turned eighteen, my license expired, and I got it renewed on Monday. My mom and I dove into the office twenty minutes before they closed, and an officer asked what we needed assistance with. I told him I needed my driver license renewed, and he blinked at me and asked, "And how old are you?" After waiting in line for fifteen minutes, staring at the blue dot, and getting <i>the worst</i> picture west of the Mississippi, I was a licensed driver again.<br />
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<b>Thing 3: </b>Papa and I went to Yorktown earlier today. The thundering sky exploded in pieces, but no rain fell. A perfect day to go on a drive and find some back roads, if you ask me. We went and drove by buildings that looked like they were put together in the 40s. It makes you wonder, at least it did me, what happened when they weren't abandoned. When people still came to work there every morning, and their voices echoed in through the now darkened rooms. For some reason, that makes me want to write a song.<br />
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<br />-Jessie SuzanneJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-19493792281347964272012-04-30T17:18:00.001-07:002012-04-30T17:37:21.687-07:00the story of the false eyelashes<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Pressing Flowers by The Civil Wars</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My baby puppy sleepin'... :)</td></tr>
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Just got home from our second-to-last dress rehearsal. I love putting on performances so much. I'm still going to keep coming to see them after I graduate...which is in less than two weeks. And my birthday is in four days! I'm going to be eighteen! Bwahaha.<br />
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Random stuff that's happened:<br />
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<ul>
<li>I got an obsession with The Civil Wars.</li>
<li>I face-planted the ground because I <u>wasn't</u> wearing heels. 'Cause I'm just that graceful.</li>
<li>I curtsied and fell down. I'm playing a queen so I was hoping to be all graceful for once...*cough*</li>
<li>I saw at least twenty boys wearing makeup for said play.</li>
<li>I wore false eyelashes for the first time. It was such a memorable experience...I got my eyelid glued open.</li>
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<b>*** THE ACCOUNT OF THE FALSE EYELASHES***</b></div>
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Anna and I were sitting in the darkened backstage hallway waiting for our play to start. I hate how everything is so hilarious when you're supposed to be completely silent.</div>
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<b>Anna:</b> I have false eyelashes you can use.</div>
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<b>Me: </b>Really? Sure. Lets go to the ladies room where there's a mirror.</div>
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<b>Anna: </b>*prepares fake eyelashes* Nah, we can do it here. Hold still!</div>
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<b>Me:</b> *blink*</div>
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<b>Anna:</b> STOP BLINKING!</div>
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<b>Me:</b> ....*blink*</div>
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<b>Anna: </b>*laughs*</div>
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<b>Me: </b>*laughs with a strip of eyelashes adhered just under eyebrow* </div>
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<b>Anna: </b>Hold still! *glues eyelid open* Okay, I fixed it!</div>
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<b>Me:</b> ANNA!! I CAN'T CLOSE MY EYE.</div>
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<b>Anna: </b>They look pretty...</div>
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***</div>
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I just now peeled them off, and the whole thing looked bizarre. I'm tired now, so I'm gonna go study for the Faith Bible Institute exam that's coming up...very soon...</div>
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Jessie Suzanne</div>
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<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-16116038260569517562012-04-20T20:28:00.000-07:002012-04-21T08:50:59.815-07:00things i've learned<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: May It Be by Enya {Lord of the Rings soundtrack}</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Quote love: "Cheerfulness and contentment are great beautifiers, and are famous preservers of good looks." -Charles Dickens</span></span><br />
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<i>Random pictures from my phone:</i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bwahahaha...</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I really, really love this.</td></tr>
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chug cinnamon tea and you'll stay awake to study // stop whatever you're doing and listen when you hear thunder // it's fun to dance with no music in an empty rodeo arena // when in class, doodle all over the page // i really love small towns // making jewelry is an epic pastime // turquoise-painted fingernails are always a good idea // watch really old movies whenever you get the chance // it's a really awkward moment when you stop at a green light // leather scented candles are the best // i don't care if i can't go to Narnia, i still want to // buy colored fineliners and use them whenever you get the chance // turn the radio up and belt it out when they're playing your favorite song (it always sounds better on the radio, after all) <br />
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<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-44355889669389604842012-04-10T23:26:00.000-07:002012-04-11T17:28:57.887-07:00it's one o'clock in the morning.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Daughter's Lament by The Carolina Chocolate Drops</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">"Practice as if you are the worst, perform as if you are the best." -Unknown</span></div>
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Isn't it odd how we can tie memories to things? It's like a small shred of your mind wraps the object in a permanent hug, and even if you try, you can't release it. I was packing up books (millions and millions, it seems), and I found a small cardboard box with flowers on it. I opened it and a blue ribbon flung itself out, along with a red ribbon. I picked up the blue one from the floor. I had completely forgotten about those.<br />
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<i>Best of Show. </i><br />
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And the red one.<br />
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<i>Second Place.</i><br />
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I remember opening the door and walking slowly across the room, looking at the hundreds of paintings turning the walls into a map of the world. My mom, dressed in her Sunday best, walked up and gave me a hug.<br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>"Congratulations," she whispered.</i><br />
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I had no idea what she meant. I walked further into the room with a ceiling that dripped multiple ceiling fans. I went to Papa and he smiled at me.<br />
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<i>"I'm proud of you,"</i> <i>he said.</i><br />
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My grandmother came up behind me, smelling of flowers and joy and love and hugs. Just so you know, a grandmother doesn't have to be related to you to be your grandmother. Remember that.<br />
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We went to the back of the room. Under a ceiling fan that twirled and spiraled dangerously, a tree-lined lake clung inside a photograph on the wall. And a frilly blue ribbon was wedged on the corner of the wood.<br />
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<i>Best of Show.</i><br />
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The Lord let me capture His artwork, and He blessed me by letting me get my first Best of Show. It's not like it was a nationwide exhibit, but for the three days it lasted, everyone knew my name because of Him.<br />
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<br />
Jessie Suzanne<br />
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<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-60089784613930944662012-03-27T17:21:00.000-07:002013-01-03T07:25:12.391-08:00an entire post of rambling.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Forever and Ever, Amen by Randy Travis</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Best excerpt: "'Child,' she said placing her head to mine and her callused fingers on my cheek, 'you can whip it and beat it senseless, you can drag it through the streets and spit on it, you can even dangle it from a tree, drive spikes through it, and drain the last breath from it, but in the end, no matter what you do, and no matter how hard you try to kill it, love wins.' -Wrapped in Rain by Charles Martin</span></div>
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Yesterday I happened upon the Jung Typology Test (literally...I clicked on a link from a link from a link). And because I'm me and I'm freakishly amused by things like this, I kinda had to take it. Bwahahaha. <br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Evidently I have the same personality as George Washington, Queen Elizabeth II, and Eeyore. I don't know where Eeyore came from...I'm generally an optimistic person. *cough* For the most part.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I got ISTJ. (Introverted, Sensing, Thinking, Judging)</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"ISTJs are responsible, loyal and hard working. They have an acute sense
of right and wrong and work hard at preserving established norms and
traditions. ISTJs care deeply for those
closest to them. While they generally take things very seriously, they also usually have
an offbeat sense of humor and can be a lot of fun - especially at family
or work-related gatherings." -<a href="http://www.mypersonality.info/personality-types/istj/">via</a></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"ISTJs are easily frustrated by the inconsistencies of others, especially
when the second parties don't keep their commitments. But they usually
keep their feelings to themselves unless they are asked. And when
asked, they don't mince words. Truth wins out over tact."<br />
<br />
"We've always done it this way," is often reason enough for many ISTJs." -<a href="http://typelogic.com/istj.html">via</a></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Responsible, planner, private, loner tendencies, perfectionist,
organized, detail oriented, would rather be friendless than
jobless, realistic, observer, clean, focused, punctual, private, does not appreciate strangeness, not spontaneous, follows the rules, dutiful, avoids
mistakes, conventional, likes solitude, insensitive to the hardships of
others, prepared, thinks rules are important, cautious,
security seeking, prepares for worst case scenarios, logical,
analytical, does not accept apologies easily, hard working." -<a href="http://similarminds.com/jung/istj.html" target="_blank">via</a></blockquote>
The people who don't know me think I'm shy and quiet, and the people who do know me wish I was. *grins madly* So I'm a really <a href="http://l-pawlik-kienlen.suite101.com/the-introvert-a13661" target="_blank">happy introvert</a>? Take it <a href="http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp" target="_blank">here</a> and tell me what you get! Pleaaase?<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> ***HIGHLIGHT OF THE DAY / RANDOM STORY***</span></b></div>
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I was walking down the driveway just after my dad left, around eight o'clock. Under a brown and orange sky, I went to the road to get the mail and nearly died of happiness due to a letter from a really sweet man. I began walking back and I heard a rustling beneath a small mound of oak leaves, and because I'm me, I may or may not have dove through the bushes to see what it was. It could've been a rattler, but anyways. Ahem.<br />
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I knelt next to the mound, and realized that it was not rustling, but chewing. The leaves weren't moving, though whatever was underneath them was enthusiastically chewing and crunching (with the occasional smack). After about three minutes of listening to <i>nom nom nom</i>, it stopped. I honestly have no idea what it was or what it was eating, but it sounded so <i>cute! </i>I'm guessing it was a baby rabbit or something.<br />
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<b style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">***BEAUTY***</b></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>He kneeled down, and cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their charge. And when he had said this, he fell asleep.</i></blockquote>
</blockquote>
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I could never think of a sweeter, more truthful way to say that someone died.</div>
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<br />
-Jessie SuzanneJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-45505431365195799602012-03-03T17:48:00.000-08:002012-03-03T17:48:24.474-08:00hello, saturday | a post with a weird picture at the end.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Small Town Southern Man by Alan Jackson</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Quote love: "Never miss a good chance to shut up." -Will Rogers</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Reading: <i>White</i> by Ted Dekker</span></span></div>
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Today was the kind of day where one grabs a book, a cat, and a cup of coffee and goes outside to sit in the sun. I did that, actually. Papa's not feeling well, so we spent the morning watching old western movies. Later I went to the kitchen and concocted a loaf of banana bread. After that I went to my room, opened the window and drew in a notebook while the breeze and music made my room airborne. <br />
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Most of the cattle across the road were irritated about something, and
they spent a good while voicing their irritation. So...they were the
background music to the afternoon. Today was one of those days where the sky is clear, smeared, and frosty; and the sun was streaming down the trees in that
dusty, South Texas kind of way. The air was cool, but the sun was warm. It made me feel bad for being inside, so I
found my phone to take pictures and followed the animals around the yard yelling "STAY
STILL PLEEEAASE?" Avril emerged from the woods and Daisy kind of lost it. So she was chasing the cat all around the trees. <br />
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This bench originally had the Texas flag painted on it, but most of it's been chipped off over the years. I love it even though it's falling apart and not safe to sit on. Heh. It's gonna be my project this summer, I think. <br />
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Aside from my dad not feeling well, it was a good day. How's your weekend coming?<br />
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-Jessie Suzanne<br />
<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-28550631976690708092012-01-27T20:50:00.000-08:002012-01-27T20:50:31.524-08:00i heard that your dreams came true.<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Listening to: Someone Like You by Adele (new favorite song. I <strike>like</strike> love her voice...)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Lyric love: Old friend, why are you so shy? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> I hate to turn up out of the blue, uninvited,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it<br /> I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded<br /> That for me, it isn't over.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">I heard that you're settled down,<br />That you found a girl and you're married now;<br />I heard that your dreams came true.</span><br />
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<3<br />
Jessie SuzanneJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-38132240894107219982012-01-01T08:30:00.000-08:002012-04-21T15:37:39.727-07:00a very long post and a picture.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Finally Home by MercyMe</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Lyric love: "There's so much I want to say; so much I want you to know, when I finally make it home. Then I'll gaze upon the throne of the King, frozen in my steps. And all the questions that I swore I would ask, words just won't come yet. I'm so amazed at what I've seen, so much more than this old mind can hold."</span></div>
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<b>Tuesday, December 27th 2011 - 8:01 AM</b><br />
I woke up at eight o'clock to a phone call, which I ignored by pushing the phone to the floor. Literally ten seconds later I hear my mom's phone ring across the house, and I sat up knowing why everyone was calling, and that I was wrong to ignore my phone. My great aunt had died about fifteen minutes earlier. I changed clothes and grabbed my dad's guitar. I went into the woods, sat on a fallen tree, and played until the sun was high and I couldn't feel the chill of the wind.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://awakened-by-jesus-christ.blogspot.com/2011/12/and-then-silence.html">That's all I remember of that day.</a></div>
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<b>Wednesday, December 28th 2011</b><br />
I went with my dad to JC Penney to return some clothes he had gotten for Christmas, and I spent about forty-five minutes walking around Sephora. The people there probably thought I was about to rob the place by the way I was circling Philosophy like a vulture. In the end, I left with lipstick and <a href="http://www.philosophy.com/fragrance-amazing/amazing-grace-fragrance-product">the perfume I plan to grow old with</a>.<br />
<br />
Later that night, I went to church. Afterward, since I had time to kill before I picked up my mom from work, I went to Chick-fil-A (thirty minutes before they closed) and ate there, just me and The Hunger Games. It was nice and quiet and peaceful. I've never gone to a restaurant by myself before. After that, I went to Walgreens, then pulled into an empty parking lot by a busy highway and cried. It was nice watching the cars go by; like sitting on the bank of a river. The lights were huge and floating and broken on the damp highway, and it seemed so nice.<br />
<br />
Then I crossed the highway to Walgreens again, got a notebook and filled the first four pages with words. After that, I drove across town and sat in the parking lot of my mom's workplace and listened to Lady Antebellum. We went to iHOP after that, then went home.<br />
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<b>Thursday, December 29th 2011 - 9:20 AM</b><br />
We were under an overpass on the way to the funeral home, and my mom got a voicemail that my deceased aunt's daughter had gone into labor three months early. She had seen her mother's obituary in the newspaper and gone into premature labor. The train went by, and I watched the wheels against the rails, on and on, and I learned how they were assembled.<br />
<br />
For some unexplainable reason, watching the train slip through the morning sunlight, I felt old. I don't really mean physically old, just old. It's how you'd feel waking up from a dream where you lived until you were forty, only to sit up and realize you're not even eighteen. It feels like having more memories than time for them to have happened.<br />
<br />
When we got to the funeral home, we mingled. My great uncle walked up to me and stated, "Jessie Suzanne, I've been watching you, and your face has the perfect bone structure so you could be one of those Castilian dancers in Spain." I had no idea what to make of that... o.O<br />
<br />
After a reasonable amount of time, we left. (Happy New Year, by the way...it's now 2012.) After we left, we went straight to the hospital. We walked in, and the nurses were preparing for the delivery. We took her two daughters and son and left again, with parting commands of, "Don't tell anyone about the labor!"<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wTmEzMIuZKo/Tv_8rA2dpjI/AAAAAAAAA0c/dylEivjjOS8/s1600/409186_349654785060244_100000471762721_1473686_2049397198_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wTmEzMIuZKo/Tv_8rA2dpjI/AAAAAAAAA0c/dylEivjjOS8/s320/409186_349654785060244_100000471762721_1473686_2049397198_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sweet baby cousin!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
About thirty minutes later, in a parking lot, my mom informed the kids that they had a new baby brother, Elijah Benjamin Blair, weighing one pound and eleven ounces. He was flown to another hospital, and as of now he's doing well, though I know his family would appreciate your prayers.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>December 30th 2011 - 10:00 AM</b><br />
We pulled into the funeral home, supposedly on time. We walked in and sat down in the back, just before we were told to get up and go pay our respects. We walked down the isle, talked to my cousins for about two seconds, and walked out the back door (like, five feet from my car). Just then, my mom noticed that we were at the very back of the funeral procession (the end always gets lost). So, discreetly, we got out and rearranged some orange cones so we were now in the middle of the procession. Driving in a funeral procession is stressful. After almost hitting the Avalon in front of me and almost being hit by the Escalade behind me, we showed up at the church.<br />
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>***NOTE***</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I think I was somewhat of a disruption to the whole event. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Here follows the awkward/embarrassing moments of December 30th, 2011.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
So, towards the middle of the service, I needed to take my inhaler so I got up and walked back down the isle to the entrance. On the way back, I had an ungraceful moment and tripped in the heels I was wearing. About five minutes later, my mom told me to wait in the foyer because they were going to have incense and it was strong. Went back to the entrance. They had left the double doors open, so the whole hallway was freezing.<br />
<br />
I checked my phone, went into the ladies room and fixed my makeup, checked my phone again, yanked open the door and nearly body slammed the bishop (I missed him by two feet). Apparently, while I was in the other room, they had begun to take the casket back to the hearse outside. Someone gave me a disapproving look, and I ran across the hall to the crying room. I walked in and suddenly had the feeling that I was in a fishbowl due to the glass walls, and I stepped backwards into the hall and almost got ran over by the casket. Ever felt like curling up and dying? Yeah. So I walked into the ladies room and couldn't breathe because there were two babies getting changed. I walked back out and got stepped on by distant cousins.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Somehow, my mom and I met at my car and went on to the grave site. </div>
<b><br /></b><br />
After the burial, a few friends and family were to meet at a restaurant for the reception, which was by invitation only. For some reason, though, everyone from the funeral followed us there. The restaurant owner was so nice as to close his entire restaurant for the day, so we could hold the reception there. So when the workers were under the impression that we would be there at 1:00, we had a slight problem when we showed up at 11:50. But, this served well, because the masses of people and cars waiting outside decided they didn't want to wait an hour to eat, and went somewhere else. Not that we didn't want them to eat with us, but not all of us could fit in the tiny restaurant. It wasn't an hour, after all, but instead around thirty minutes. It was very interesting, to say the least, and I found a cousin of mine, Halie, who also carries books in her purse. That's awesome...<br />
<br />
We went to the hospital to see how everyone was, then ran a few errands and went home. It was an interesting week to be sure; full of worry, family, happiness, concern, family, stress, some tears, family, embarrassment, and the kind of laughter that makes your stomach hurt.<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Praise be to the Lord, who gives and takes away.</span></div>
<br />
-SuzanneJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-55643401596757722682011-12-27T18:12:00.000-08:002012-02-10T10:46:02.628-08:00and then silence.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Longer by Dan Fogelberg </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Lyric love: "Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Higher than any bird ever flew </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> I've been in love with you </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Stronger than any mountain cathedral</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Truer than any tree ever grew</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Deeper than any forest primeval</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> I am in love with you."</span></div>
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<br />
Fuchsia. Red. Crimson. Burgundy. And then silence.<br />
The crowds applauded then, a thunder, and then a fragile noise that crackled on and on. Faint whistles sounded and circled around me. The lights shone, smeared and bright and floating, broken reflections on the floor. The stage was mine. I could stay this way forever, I could. I shifted on the chair, rubbed my shoes on the wooden floor. And I felt grass beneath my feet.<br />
<br />
And then this stage began to flake away, shavings of stage and curtains circling in the breeze until they were naught but leaves scattered at my feet. I opened my eyes, still hearing applause. And the leaves still clapped and the wind still whistled, and the sun was smeared and broken along the ground. The branches still waved. I shifted on the fallen tree, fingered the strings and kept playing until I could no longer feel my fingers.<br />
<br />
In Christ,<br />
SuzanneJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-65019167363306973452011-12-23T12:46:00.000-08:002011-12-23T21:26:40.678-08:00anywhere i go, you go, my dear.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Ding Dong Merrily On High by Roger Whittaker - I love his voice!!! *diez*</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Quote love: "Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go and write it down, and either you over dramatize it or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to."</span></div>
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<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
i carry your heart with me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(i carry it in my heart)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i am never without it</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(anywhere i go, you go, my dear)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
-ee cummings<i><br /></i></div>
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<br />
See that cat in the first picture? That's Avril. That cat reminds me of dog, I'm not joking. I was walking to the road yesterday evening and I whistled for her. She tore across the entire yard and flopped on the ground a few feet from me. She's not officially mine, mind you, but she spends more time at my house than she does wherever else she lives. She'll disappear for a week or so, then come back for three or four before she leaves again.<br />
<br />
<b>Random story:</b> A few weeks ago, when the sun was setting, I was lying in the grass in my front yard while talking on the phone. The air and grass were cold, but the sun was almost level with the horizon, so the light was soft and warm like a blanket. Everything had an overly bright, smeared look, and spiderwebs traced shimmering lines in the sky. I was lying on my side, and I rolled over to see that cat flattened on the ground a few feet away, staring at me with wide gleaming eyes, hiding behind the stem of a clover. Go figure cats...<br />
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<br />
The weeks before Christmas have been wonderful, though busy. I absolutely love this time of year, with the remembrance of Jesus' birth, and seeing much of my family. I've spent the last few days wrapping and smuggling gifts, with the sound of We Three Kings and Carol of the Bells melting through the walls. <br />
<br />
I was finally able to make a trip to the library yesterday, and I most likely drove everyone mad due to my coughing (I love winter, but winter doesn't love me. 'nuff said.) But in any case, I left with a small stack of books which have now taken up residence in my room. I'm exceedingly happy...<br />
<br />
How has your week been? Are you going anywhere for Christmas?<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.</i> </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Isaiah 9:6 KJV</blockquote>
<br />
In Christ,<br />
Suzanne<br />
<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-36803516258801363602011-11-29T18:55:00.001-08:002011-11-30T15:46:52.117-08:00the child born in May<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">L<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">istening to: American Honey by Lady Antebellum</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Reading: Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe </span></span></span></div>
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was sitting outside today<br />and I held the day in my hand,<br />remembering it.<br />The afternoon was warm,<br />but chilly around the edges.<br />This is the weather I live for. I live for winter.<br />I love it.<br /><br />I'll get a book and haul a blanket outside.<br />I'll sit by a tree and read Edgar Allan Poe<br />to the frozen sky.<br /><i> "A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling my beautiful Annabel Lee."</i><br />And it would pull it's gray cardigan<br />closer,<br />and sigh some more.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I'll look up and whisper it something.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Neither the angels in heaven above,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Nor the demons down under the sea,</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Can ever dissever my soul from the soul</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Of the beautiful Annabel Lee."</i><br /> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14px;"></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14px;"></span>love,<br />
the child born in May<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://canvaschild.blogspot.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifmJOCVqtqhD2-Qj8XxcbOHIbytzuqtUAvl6KMO-0a6YkKXOmYVFf2el-1rKrGOSKulVIk1sLsBUETakXGotJcORu57xa8sdHZp20n96taJdXrfkbOvCPKG0hxaQcCNrPDUxVqfhAX55M/s1600/blog+button.jpg" /></a></div>Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-54243938528309605002011-11-16T13:01:00.001-08:002011-11-17T17:17:36.409-08:00when i finally make it home<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Find My Way Back Home by Priscilla Ahn</span></div>
<br />
I said I'd keep up, and now it seems like there's too much to write.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>***THE GOOD NEWS IN THE LIFE OF SUZANNE***</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I got a car!! It's a red Ford Explorer. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b> ***THE BAD NEWS IN THE LIFE OF SAID GIRL***</b></div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I hit a buck on the way home from work and totaled my parents' car.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It wasn't on the side of the road or in the ditches; I don't know where it came from. Suddenly it was in front of me and the front of the car seemed to explode. The air bags didn't deploy; they should have, but praise the Lord they didn't. I pulled over and got out through the passenger door (the drivers side door wouldn't open), and checked out the car with a flashlight. I freaked out and got back in for about five minutes, then called my parents. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
My parents showed up about ten minutes later. My dad glanced at the car, told me I did well not to swerve, then shook his head and mused, "Well, Jess, I knew you didn't like the drive to work, but man..." </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
I called Justin and talked to him until the police came. We towed it home since it wouldn't run, and since I can't go to work for a while (my parents are looking for a new car) I'm staying home for now. I'm so thankful for my new ride. *grins hugely*</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Odd, it is, how much I appreciate the time I have at home now. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I painted something.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I found a notebook. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I have this odd fascination with empty notebooks. I have this urge to fill them with words, but I never know what to write. This one has my mind in it, since I'm writing down practically every thought that comes to me.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I spent most of yesterday looking through old pictures. I found a picture of my dad walking along the beach when he and my mom were on their honeymoon.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
1988.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It's neat to see a time when I wasn't here yet.</div>
<br />
<br />
How have you guys been? <br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
-Suzanne</div>Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-46468954680688073502011-11-03T07:05:00.001-07:002011-11-03T07:17:09.354-07:00{title of post}<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Listening to: Wildfire by Michael Martin Murphy</span><br />
<br />
I’ve been so busy lately, pleeease forgive my temporary abandonment of this ‘ere blog. My mom got a job recently, and I’ve started babysitting.<br />
<br />
I'm now a licensed driver in the state of Texas. *evil laughter* I got my license on October 3rd. I’ve never been so nervous in my life. My dad and I were sitting on the bench outside the office, and I felt like I was on death row. The good thing is I got to take the test it in a really small town, so the traffic wasn’t bad. I was really worried about the parallel parking, even though my dad showed me how (and I did it perfectly six consecutive times the day before). Praise the Lord for His guiding me, because I did it PERFECTLY on the test. *shrieks happily* Everything happened so fast. And then suddenly I was getting my picture taken. SO, after that, my dad and I bought ice cream to celebrate. *grins madly*<br />
<br />
I started working the next day, which meant getting up at an ungodly hour of the morning. I’m a morning person. Just not at 5:00 o’clock. Heh…<br />
<br />
My mom is in training for Sprint, and I won’t be able to see her when her normal schedule starts. I’ll leave for work while she’s still sleeping, and when I get home she’ll have left for work; and when she gets home I’ll be sleeping already. So I’ll be able to see her on Sundays, I believe. <br />
<br />
I’ve been working on this post for about a week, adding a few sentences every time I wasn’t busy. I’ll try to post more regularly, peeps. :)<br />
<br />
In His love,<br />
SuzanneJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-31546469634449550582011-10-07T19:57:00.000-07:002011-10-07T20:00:51.077-07:00the hole in the sky.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Come Thou Fount by Stephanie Immordino </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Quote love: "I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." -Galileo Galilei </span></div>
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<br />
This life is a lovely place, but it's tiring sometimes. So tonight, clad in an old shirt and worn out jeans, I ran outside and dove on the hood of my dad's pickup truck. It's the best place to be, if one wants to see something vast. Looking at the sky, I feel like everything is like it should be. Tonight was quiet. Quiet enough so I could hear my thoughts. The needles of the pine trees rubbed themselves together, sounding like an innumerable audience applauding the Creator. Silence is loud, you know.<br />
<br />
I think we sometimes forget what this world was. This earth is like a canvas that people have painted over. And painted, and painted, and painted. And then after a while, we got used to seeing these unnatural shades of life: roads scribbling across the countryside, and buildings that scrape the clouds off the sky. We forgot the beauty of a world untouched by people.<br />
<br />
But then, sometimes, there's a person who has a vague memory of the unstained canvas. Or maybe they saw it by accident, and that made them remember. And they look up at the speckled sky. And they see a place so deep that no amount of paint can conceal it.<br />
<br />
The sky is lovely. It's the place where everything looks like it used to be.<br />
<br />
God is everywhere, but sometimes this world seems so crowded that it's hard to imagine it. If you look up at the sky though, it's easier to remember. With the blackness bleeding into dark blue. And the moon that looks like a hole in the sky. And the clouds weaving among the stars.<br />
<br />
It's empty, and I can imagine that vast space filled with the Lord.<br />
<br />
♥<br />
<br />
In His love,<br />
Suzanne<br />
<br />
<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-16287823301881130782011-10-02T07:18:00.000-07:002011-10-02T07:18:36.623-07:00golden, cracked, aged.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: my rambling, chaotic thoughts.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Lyric love: "But there never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them." -Jim Croce</span><br />
<br />
I looked up at the pecan trees that towered over us. The sunlight filtered through the leaves and printed shadows on the ground. As the wind shifted, the shadows did too, so there was sunshine lace spread on the ground. I'll always love that.<br />
<br />
Have you ever felt that a place was a part of your family? My dad and I wandered among the trees, crunching through the yellowed leaves. Beyond the road was a sprawling old field, and around this time last year, we had sat in the middle of it. We had talked of Shakespeare, guitar, and pondered life.<br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"If these trees could talk, I'm sure they'd have some remarkable stories to tell. They've seen so much in this life." </i></div>
<br />
Riverside Park. Some of my earliest memories are there. Some of the best ones. My dad and I had come into Victoria and decided to go to the park, which was hilariously fun. We weaved a trail through the pecans and leaves, and we found a stick. When one finds a stick of this size, it inspires one to play baseball. We didn't have a baseball with us, so Papa proceeded to throw pecans in the air before slamming them with the stick. This caused much laughter and the smugly repeated phrase, "Watch and learn."<br />
<br />
And later I was sitting on the tailgate of my dad's truck, and we were talking of something that happened years ago. I'm watching the leaves fall, tiny and brown and shriveled and golden. Golden.<br />
<br />
And I had a thought.<br />
<br />
Brown and cracked and aged, they fall from the trees. But if sunlight arrests them in its soft embrace, then they're not brown and cracked
and aged anymore. They're glowing warmly with a newfound fire, sifting to the ground to be
nestled among ember-like leaves.<br />
<br />
The leaves won't be here forever, but they are here, and they're breathtaking as they glide calmly through the air. Fallen, but still so beautiful. <br />
<br />
Sunlight does that.<br />
<br />
The Lord does that.<br />
<br />
He takes the broken and fallen and He makes them whole. He makes them beautiful, so they glow with His love and joy.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Psalms 23:3 </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake."</i></div>
<br />
In His love,<br />
Suzanne<br />
<br />
<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-76657732025271006132011-09-05T19:57:00.000-07:002011-11-29T17:37:12.486-08:00involving: fires, smoke, and a splattered sun.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Revelation by Third Day </span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Quote love: "Never say goodbye, because saying goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting." </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">-Peter Pan</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kM7KfxFCeC44gwtbx9hwWnlvuU0RwX5iLWk6eLYPFLJBg5HuFfSRKff07lNFD1foJepUsfTKqSWi0K7RXnoFa2O45fPQc1ciL2dLW4ZuptA8KoL-FiF9CSUncdMM9JrHPuW0yjdidXE/s1600/Wesley+-+Fire+Dept.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kM7KfxFCeC44gwtbx9hwWnlvuU0RwX5iLWk6eLYPFLJBg5HuFfSRKff07lNFD1foJepUsfTKqSWi0K7RXnoFa2O45fPQc1ciL2dLW4ZuptA8KoL-FiF9CSUncdMM9JrHPuW0yjdidXE/s1600/Wesley+-+Fire+Dept.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Wesley. Ain't he adorable?!?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The sky is wrapped in smoke today. There's a 25,000 acre fire near Bastrop now, and the smoke is swimming in the sky. Please pray for the safety of the firefighters and the people who are evacuating.<br />
<br />
My mom and I went to the Stauss's house earlier, which was very fun and epic. Last time, Wesley stole my camera. That night I found a zillion pictures of his teeth and eyes. o.O<br />
<br />
We got to meet two missionaries that were staying with
them, which was great! I'm so glad I've finally met them;
they're wonderful. *grins hugely* <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJX03OKtpL-rZhovHoU9w323m3YsUVrI2s-raK-Tk83su1FKerqMECZqpdZkvw9rkjQrGWetbjO-0DkFIaJB9p61-eO-r6bV3CAt4XAShDf_6mZ-VrgnFYjdq0TATwORBZB4FXVK4lQo/s1600/September+2nd+2011+054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJX03OKtpL-rZhovHoU9w323m3YsUVrI2s-raK-Tk83su1FKerqMECZqpdZkvw9rkjQrGWetbjO-0DkFIaJB9p61-eO-r6bV3CAt4XAShDf_6mZ-VrgnFYjdq0TATwORBZB4FXVK4lQo/s320/September+2nd+2011+054.JPG" width="245" /></a>You know, if you see the sun through an ocean of smoke, it looks like someone threw an orange at the sky. Like someone threw an orange at the sky and it got caught in the smoke, staining the clouds around it. It's very true.<br />
<br />
Justin and I went for a walk (which was really fun and hilarious!) and stared at the scenery (I was slightly obsessed with it).<br />
<br />
The scenery consisted of hills, gravel roads winding along the countryside, smoke, violent cows, deer, more smoke, and an orange splattered sun. It was so hazy and windy and perfect. It seemed dream-like.<br />
<br />
We would have walked to another pasture, though Justin said not to. If I'm not mistaken, the cows had predators where they originated from, and the cows attacked the predators. Or something like that...I might be remembering it wrong. O.O<br />
<br />
On another topic, my church is having our annual World Missions Conference this Sunday! I <i>think</i> this is our 23rd conference. It's always such a blessing. We usually cook for the missionary families who come and bring them dinner at the Fellowship Hall, and then we have services. It starts on September 11th and lasts for four days. Praying for the safety of the missionaries and that more people will be brought to Christ. *huge smile*<br />
<br />
On yet another topic, I'm on <a href="http://pinterest.com/redroseoftexas/">Pinterest</a>! If you're on there, be sure to follow me! I just found it recently, and so far it's pretty fun!<br />
<br />
What about you? How has your life been?<br />
<br />
In His love,<br />
SuzanneJessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-80457206812747669472011-08-31T22:00:00.000-07:002011-08-31T22:07:06.064-07:00autumn please come<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Moonlight Sonata</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Quote love: "I don't like standard beauty. There is no beauty without strangeness." -Karl Lagerfeld </span></div>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEkV_8SBQ21eEAWJHZCauBqFYdY6kQH66wnhadyZjlMHy-XK5w4sY9L07CrN4YvB9PNxfMCZsduF9U71ZLExmfCLeIDqzj-7IxgevOe74fatuOYVgsIap5Br8wyueK_JgkbKqSzdobSp0/s1600/Riverside+Park+033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEkV_8SBQ21eEAWJHZCauBqFYdY6kQH66wnhadyZjlMHy-XK5w4sY9L07CrN4YvB9PNxfMCZsduF9U71ZLExmfCLeIDqzj-7IxgevOe74fatuOYVgsIap5Br8wyueK_JgkbKqSzdobSp0/s1600/Riverside+Park+033.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Autumn is the best time of year.<br />
<br />
It's when the boots (with fuzz in them) and denim jackets get unburied from the closet. When the trees fling away their leaves and the sky pulls on a gray blanket. When the air smells like cinnamon and there's a pumpkin in the middle of the table. It's the time of hot chocolate with marshmallows, whirlwinds of leaves, and Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. The air is sharp and a plaid scarf is worn. I like that.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
because of sharp air,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
strings of lights,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and apples</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
wearing</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
candy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and books and stories</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and characters lit</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
by candle light.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and music plays</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and a war</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
is won.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_RxBPyCg41YMqH3wIFQqHU-0rbyEsjdffziYIBbQA-176vVL2Nd20BQVVwbGEnlmk_EFnU8n2HBOzzj2WWOcryAALhSBT4shthOTNwt7p2G2TNIMCBXwg5MzXJHztW3-Kf-ClrypECBs/s1600/Chess+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_RxBPyCg41YMqH3wIFQqHU-0rbyEsjdffziYIBbQA-176vVL2Nd20BQVVwbGEnlmk_EFnU8n2HBOzzj2WWOcryAALhSBT4shthOTNwt7p2G2TNIMCBXwg5MzXJHztW3-Kf-ClrypECBs/s1600/Chess+015.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />Autumn, please come soon.<br />
<br />
In His love,<br />
Suzanne<br />
<br />Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-36867801078839922982011-08-17T21:49:00.000-07:002011-08-17T22:13:49.434-07:00and it ran down the road yelling.<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: Beauty Will Rise by Steven Curtis Chapman</span></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3PyPa6dYWpNiuHnzX4pVSoK4bQft_PTKJevP-DVI7zqerCVrWJnO94g8hHt3tjFk_BauoWfl2XFjPRR8oUJ49uR6z2rWMsRiJjD6AXLgXqoFI7id5CyDXOTrgawFgqUoqo1XJx32lz6A/s1600/May+11th+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3PyPa6dYWpNiuHnzX4pVSoK4bQft_PTKJevP-DVI7zqerCVrWJnO94g8hHt3tjFk_BauoWfl2XFjPRR8oUJ49uR6z2rWMsRiJjD6AXLgXqoFI7id5CyDXOTrgawFgqUoqo1XJx32lz6A/s1600/May+11th+010.JPG" /></a><br />
<br />
An unbelievable piece of information: I learned to drive a standard vehicle last year. You know how everyone says, "It's not something you can forget. It'll come back to you."<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>***THE REALITY OF SUZANNE RODRIGUEZ***</b></div><div style="text-align: center;">I forgot. And no, it didn't come back to me. In fact, it ran down the road yelling.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">My dad is an amazing teacher. Amazing. I honestly can't give him enough credit. Two days ago, I drove my dad's work truck. Had someone stopped on the highway and looked inside the blue pickup, they would have seen a wide-eyed seventeen year old girl gripping the wheel, muttering in French (with the occasional shriek). They also would have seen a relaxed man sitting in the passenger seat with a calm, slightly amused expression on his face, as if he were watching an interesting movie. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">While I tripped, climbed, and walked on the fence between sanity and hysteria, he calmly gave instructions. He's the best, guys. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">In the driveway back at home, I slowly emerged from the truck. My hair was pointing at something in the sky, my makeup-less face was flushed and damp (said truck lacks air conditioning, and the afternoons are still in the hundreds). I had a Dr. Pepper and gummi worms. Comfort food.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4sXPFBDXbtHgZZUKvV41DSKsliDbozBRIZIm7Or4xsUQUYu53ketLX6SecV0jxLZAo3j9piN-Y4VTjTk74OS_0YTuNswh-hPb9bxxdd-9M03tNSMM7uw2UsfCdX7pjs2uCeUtN1Dmwc/s1600/Stars+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4sXPFBDXbtHgZZUKvV41DSKsliDbozBRIZIm7Or4xsUQUYu53ketLX6SecV0jxLZAo3j9piN-Y4VTjTk74OS_0YTuNswh-hPb9bxxdd-9M03tNSMM7uw2UsfCdX7pjs2uCeUtN1Dmwc/s1600/Stars+006.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">That night I was sitting on the hood of the truck talking to Justin on the phone and looking at the stars. They looked like little shards of glass that had been thrown at the sky and tied there. One of them fell, though, and went shooting across the dark speckled ocean.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Maybe someone cut the string holding it up."</div><div style="text-align: center;">-Justin</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiehA4PuTFu9ghZA5YmlXTOw2b7oVZpdq1KPEHrTanDVg_WMd8QzSKn1iCIJWKUyM92z4ruMIuDGFoxZmx6DR9tMpMc6jAabvrCyvj_V6iyGKT9t-25KtqI9j_HGs3Xckrr5G8ErZ-_4gE/s1600/Stars+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiehA4PuTFu9ghZA5YmlXTOw2b7oVZpdq1KPEHrTanDVg_WMd8QzSKn1iCIJWKUyM92z4ruMIuDGFoxZmx6DR9tMpMc6jAabvrCyvj_V6iyGKT9t-25KtqI9j_HGs3Xckrr5G8ErZ-_4gE/s1600/Stars+001.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The stars are so pretty; have you seen them lately?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">In His love,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Suzanne</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7560648143845837516.post-36971143563287931982011-08-09T21:05:00.000-07:002011-08-13T19:09:50.546-07:00summer's almost gone...<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Listening to: You Are More by Tenth Avenue North</span></div><br />
Today was very, very uneventful. My dad and I went to a convenience store, and it wasn't until I was doing sixty on the shimmering highway that I realized I shouldn't be driving (I'm still on medication from said <a href="http://awakened-by-jesus-christ.blogspot.com/2011/08/of-wisdom-teeth-or-lack-thereof-and.html">surgery</a>). So I turned off the highway and cruised along a back road. The Texas kind of back road. The kind of road that's lined with barbed wire fences, winds through the fields, and is splattered with potholes. And a crazy number of cattle guards. Oh my goodness, we literally can't forget the cattle guards. If you happen to forget about them, drive over one and you'll be reminded. Cattle should just stay put.<br />
<br />
Cattle guards or not, we drove along in hazy sunlight with the windows down and listened to a man on the radio remind us of the heat index (113 Fahrenheit).<br />
<br />
It's hot.<br />
<br />
A tumbleweed rolled across the road, which added to the effect. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdq9EDyJ08WR7chdNQEFO1gOhaguWcHV4lDJFW0DL1VK4ybw6606LEv3EZhMdX3k4jboQkH7wShmGQvowu422cN8EbvPZPEWAAOlXZThyphenhyphenHCDiRVSv8RiIdeDItXF3afRgG6h3nsNR_-fE/s1600/Flowers+on+the+road+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdq9EDyJ08WR7chdNQEFO1gOhaguWcHV4lDJFW0DL1VK4ybw6606LEv3EZhMdX3k4jboQkH7wShmGQvowu422cN8EbvPZPEWAAOlXZThyphenhyphenHCDiRVSv8RiIdeDItXF3afRgG6h3nsNR_-fE/s1600/Flowers+on+the+road+013.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>The content of my awesome Sunday:</b></div><br />
A really amazing friend of mine, Justin, came home after being in Alaska on a mission trip for six weeks. Praise the Lord for his opportunity to serve Him, and that he's back safely! :)<br />
<br />
We took the elective's exam. I'm confident that I did well. That makes me doubtful. It was really easy, so either I did great or I just bombed the whole thing. The last time I was confident I would get an A, I got a B. And the questions I answered were: True, true, true, true, true, true, true, false, true, true, true. GAH!!<br />
<br />
I spent the time between services hanging out with two families from church; that was fun and such a blessing! That was a pretty wonderful day. :)<br />
<br />
In His love and light,<br />
Suzanne<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Jessie Suzannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02409752010991412174noreply@blogger.com0