Sisters

No doubt, there's a definite bond between sisters. It's mysterious. It's unexplainable. It's like a force that will never separate you. Even if you wanted it to.

You can be mad at each other, but never resist the temptation to call one another when something unusual, exciting or interesting happens. You can disagree on everything and still find a way to talk about anything. You can be complete opposites, living opposite lives, yet laugh over coffee at each others' stories of life trials and challenges.

I have three sisters. Two of whom I grew up with. One lives in Texas, one lives in Alabama, and one lives in Tennessee. The crazy thing is, when something dramatic happens to any of them, I can feel it.

We've lived together as children and adults. We've cried, laughed, shared, fought, played, slept, shopped, camped, and celebrated together. My life is filled with memories of sisters. Memories of weddings, paintball, four-wheeling in Alaska, great accomplishments, stealing ice cream from the freezer at night, playing Barbies after bedtime, and sitting around the burning trash can (a.k.a. the bonfire) talking about the day's activities.

There are times I'm so frustrated with them that I swear I'll never talk to them again, and then, two seconds later I realize my life wouldn't be complete without them. They'll always be my sisters.

Brittany (the Texas sister) and me at Thanksgiving.

To paint or not to paint?

I'm not a fan of wood paneling. So ever since we've lived in our house last year, I've contemplated painting the living room walls a different color. Currently, they are dark brown. And the carpet is brown marble. And my furniture is dark. So it's all very depressing when one is in my living room.

Recently, I've had the brilliant idea to paint my living room blue. It would be a medium slate blue color and the moulding would remain brown. In my head the room would look kind of Pottery Barn modern. I'm not sure if it would look that way in reality.

The decorations to go with my trendy new look would be black and white family photos in various frames with white mats, and a large black and white acrylic painting on the opposing wall. I'm also planning on getting some silver accent pieces. Sheldon and I have picked out a new entertainment center from IKEA, which is white.

Here are some photoshopped pictures of my living room with the blue color. The Christmas decorations change the feel a bit, but just try to imagine it in your head if you've been in my living room.

So, please, comment away. I'm not sure that your comments will change my mind, but I'd still like to hear them. Kind of like the red hair idea. :)

10 Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me

1. I love to listen to music really loud in my truck when I'm alone. I can't get enough of the bumpin' bass!

2. I love the smell of racing fuel and the sound of an engine revved up to do a burnout. But only if it's in the appropriate location like the drag strip.

3. I have a license to drive a motorcycle, a leather jacket complete with fringe and Harley-Davidson emblems, and a Harley-Davidson t-shirt from almost every store I've been to. The only thing lacking - the Harley!

4. I was a wrestling manager in high school.

5. Turquoise MC Hammer pants and a glittery sweatshirt was my favorite outfit in 3rd grade.

6. My favorite cars are a BMW of any kind and the Shelby Mustang out of the movie Gone in 60 Seconds.



7. I want to visit every continent before I die...well, not including Antarctica.

8. After living in ND and AK for the majority of my life, I didn't learn to ski until I moved to Texas.

9. I cry at pretty much any movie that has a slightly emotional scene.

10. I hope to make a difference in at least one life during my time on Earth.

A Few Christmas Afterthoughts

My view of what Christmas should be might be a bit cliche, but my desire to reach that level of Christmastime enjoyment was made stronger from yet another dull Christmas experience. It comes from a Christmas weekend spent with no decorations, no excitement or joy to be around one another. I can't help it, but I feel a bit jipped. Christmas is about the birth of Jesus Christ, love, family and friends getting together to celebrate each others' friendships, and good food and laughter. This weekend felt like Sheldon and I were rushed through the traditional exchange of gifts, we flew through Christmas light displays at 30 mph (who does that?), we scarfed Christmas dinner while others complained it wasn't done on time, and we waved goodbye to relatives who wanted nothing more but to be left alone.

I look forward to the holidays every year because of the feeling that comes with it. Yes, everyone loves the presents that come with the holidays, but presents aren't everything. The entire Christmas Day shouldn't be centered around what everyone got for everyone else. (I'm not just saying this because you think I didn't get good presents, I did, but that's not the point.) I just feel like we lose the whole spirit of the season if we're stuck in malls and department stores searching for the exact gift that was on someone's list. What's the point in giving if the recipient knows exactly what he or she is getting? Giving loses it's appeal if we're just reduced to carriers who fulfill a request. There's no thought put into it. Maybe that's what the Grinch was getting at.

Thank you to Karen for surprising Sheldon with his gift. He loves it. And it was great that he had no idea what he was about to open, but he loved it because Karen put thought into something Sheldon might like. That's the kind of giving that I like. Yes, I did suggest a "wish list" for our life group giving, but only because I've known people who get cranky at the thought of not getting something on their list. I'm not saying any of you who are reading this has done that. I'd also like to thank Lindsey for getting me Blue Like Jazz, a book that wasn't on my list. I've almost completed it! I love it! And it was a surprise.

Christmas Eve and Day this year felt like we were on a schedule. And nobody laughed, joked around, or even talked at the dinner table. Like I said, scarf and go. It was sullen - like we weren't celebrating anything. It was closer to the mourning of someone's death. Nobody died! Laugh, people! Enjoy each other! (I'm a little bitter, but it's only motivation to improve the mood next year.) The present-opening wasn't much better. Presents were opened and tossed aside with a quick thank you. I'd also like to mention a lot of thought was given to each one. Sad.

On a lighter note, my favorite part about this season was the get-togethers we had with friends. The fondue party was a blast! We spent most of the time around the table eating, laughing and just enjoying each other's company. That's what Christmastime is about. We opened presents too, but that was a minor part to our fun evening of food, friends, and film-viewing.

Thank you to those who made my holiday season merry. :)

Who's a writer?

Since recently graduating from college with my bachelor's degree in journalism, I've been thinking, when do I get to call myself a writer? How does one finally get that title? Is it after works have been published? Is a contract with a publishing company required? Must a book be written and published? Or can the published works be fliers, pamphlets and short articles?

I've always wanted to be a writer. I've loved writing since elementary school, but I never knew what level one has to be at to be considered a writer. Now that I have a degree from a four-year college in writing, should I consider myself a writer? I love to write notes, I write in a journal, I write press releases and fliers at work, and I just started this blog. I've had articles published in my school newspaper and the student magazine, but does that count? Do I have to be a "writer" in the real world before I can call myself one?

Do writers of best-selling novels consider themselves to be writers? The term is so general. Everyone writes. I guess it depends on whether the person writing likes to write or not. Maybe the term "writer" applies to those who love to write their thoughts down. People who love to express their feelings through visible words that others can read and connect through. People who have a list of blog topics for each night of the week. People who have notepads by their night stands and on their coffee tables in case they think of something that must be written immediately. People who are working on writing a book because they've always wanted to. And people who can't wait to get home from work to write about their day to their journal.

I'm one of those people. I'm a writer.