I just downloaded the song I first heard at Jeremy and Aleah's wedding. Aleah walked down the aisle to it. It's called "Make Us One" by Cindy Morgan. It's pretty amazing. You all deserve to hear it, if you haven't.
My fingernails started out beautiful, and now they're all messed up. That makes me irritated. I have to re-polish them now. HAVE TO. Like, I MUST or else I might die.
This basement smells like chemicals.
School is going well so far. Pretty much what I expected. Trig is good, English is good. Can't really complain so far. I am excited to start DMACC on Monday though. That will be really cool. Photography is going to be amazingly awesome. I am pretty pumped.
Today I learned how to use MLA format. I didn't really know what that was, but my fake college application letter had to be in it, so I Googled it and now I feel smarter.
Weddings are exciting.
I love the music I pick out. I know I say this often, but it's not like I brag about anything else, so I'll remind you again. I have fantastic taste in music.
That conversation about the shoes was good times.
Now I am downloading two old Mae songs. Summertime and This Time is the Last Time.
Okay. Time to sleep!
Mara
8.20.2008
Seasons of rain, battles unwon...
Sincerely, Mara the Butterfly at 9:22 PM
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4 comments:
I am still deeply in debt to whomever introduced me to the wonder that is mae. And Anberlin.
Are you referring to OUR conversation about shoes? I ended up not posting it. *laugh*
I am feeling reminiscent. It has kind of washed over me like a tidal wave.
If this were last year, you would be singing at Prairie Fest. You would be listening to Anberlin and Copeland over and over and over again. You would have discovered the local ruins now known as Harmbadison. You would have been the tannest you've ever been in your life. You would have learned that you can climb things, that you’re good at it and that you like it. You would be quietly and patiently threading and twirling pink beads through your fingers for a lot of days. You would be living in the aftermath of a difficult sacrifice. You would be writing dedication posts in this very blogger. You would have flown in a plane and played in the ocean for the first time ever. You would have pink highlights. You would still be high off the fumes of some dance at some wedding reception. The Macarena, I think it was.
So in remembering all of that (and so much more), I am struck by what a huge difference one year makes. A LOT has happened this past year. Things are sometimes not even recognizable to me. YOU are sometimes not even recognizable to me. It’s just plain crazy.
Stop growing up.
OK, I’m just kidding. Mostly. Your dad says you have until you’re thirty to grow up. Then you may buy some wine glasses and be on your merry way. Sound good? *laugh*
Aaaaand Brian wants you to be reminded that it's your turn in the Risk game. How is that going by the way? Is everyone killing you mercilessly?
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