January 2011
19 posts
Manchester is in need of another miracle already.
One of my previous posts was about a girl named Megan Kasmar and how much support she was given from the people around here. Just as an update for anyone who read it, she is doing wonderful and is off the machines.
This weekend, though, while on a church retreat we got word that one of the guys some of us graduated with had one of the worst weekends of his life, I’m sure. His younger...
Giving my first campus tour tomorrow
… to a bunch of rowdy 6th graders so I should be resting but here I am, not resting.
I should have written my 4 page paper tonight since I am going on a retreat this weekend and won’t be able to but instead I surfed the internet after doing a miniscule amount of homework and ended up creating a whole photo album of what my future home will look like.
Huge run on sentence? yeah,...
We were all in our designated bedrooms
when the pipes for the toilets make the biggest crashing sound. After a few muffled “What wasthat?“‘s from my dad behind his door Tyler burst from his room and into the bathroom and asks, “What’s wrong, toilet???!!!” We hear Nina, “You might find that asking the toilet what’s wrong might not be the best plumbing skill out there.”
Oh the Jones...
Fantastic.
Just spent a really long time writing a post about my day and it only posted the title. =(
Self Mutilation
Once in awhile I wake up from what I thought was a wonderful nights sleep to find deep bloody gashes on my arms, neck, or face and the skin under my nails. Considering I don’t realize what I am doing when I am apprently clawing myself apart while sleeping I think it shouldn’t count as self mutilation, right? I wonder how the pain doesn’t wake me up...
my only goal this week:
enjoi-life:
go to bed at a decent hour.
This is my goal every night. Then somehow my clock fast forwards and reads 3:00 am. I believe these clocks are lemons. At least I know I’m not the only one with a faulty clock.
You make it hard to smile because you make it hard...
I can’t handle the different forms of the truth my family seems to have anymore. I can’t handle any of them anymore. My solution: I plan to run from it because I’m tired of dealing with it. Granted the actual running won’t be taking place until Spring semester of 2012 if I get accepted into the program. Italy, here I come! Open your arms to me and help me run from my...
