tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78381802841931123842024-02-06T23:05:00.949-06:00Devastation and ReformFear can drive stick and it's taking me down this road.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.comBlogger441125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-83665911683836005402010-12-31T17:13:00.001-06:002010-12-31T17:14:41.552-06:00New Year, Ya'll<a href="http://andralauren.tumblr.com">New Blog, too.</a>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-70589364798061708412010-11-23T21:17:00.000-06:002010-11-23T21:18:05.159-06:00Where I've Been<img src="http://chart.apis.google.com/chart?cht=t&chtm=usa&chs=440x220&chf=bg,s,336699&chco=d0d0d0,cc0000&chd=s:999999999999&chld=NDSDMNMIKSIANEMOCOWYWIMT" width="440" height="220" ><br/>visited 12 states (24%)<br/><a href="http://douweosinga.com/projects/visited?region=usa">Create your own visited map of The United States</a>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-27895939876830787352010-02-21T14:19:00.000-06:002010-02-21T14:19:13.807-06:00Tea Rose Home Sponsors and Giveaways: Apron Giveaway by Christa Taylor!<a href="http://trhsponsors.blogspot.com/2010/02/apron-giveaway-by-christa-taylor.html">Tea Rose Home Sponsors and Giveaways: Apron Giveaway by Christa Taylor!</a>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-81314710257165794702010-02-21T14:15:00.002-06:002010-02-21T14:18:36.641-06:00Win an Apron!<div style="text-align: center;">You could win an apron.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WGR9AyPLCzrMG3usmdKyb3BNY16E11lubCujvd61hJtI79CVgPmBD_8XfpCT8TpjVcko06ZjeTXqKvuLt88v3H9EgSAsbcJAfeiDg4tJpciphyphenhyphenSCVphWkv7IRDtDJVRskIomgcomNoS8/s1600-h/DSC_1884-2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6WGR9AyPLCzrMG3usmdKyb3BNY16E11lubCujvd61hJtI79CVgPmBD_8XfpCT8TpjVcko06ZjeTXqKvuLt88v3H9EgSAsbcJAfeiDg4tJpciphyphenhyphenSCVphWkv7IRDtDJVRskIomgcomNoS8/s400/DSC_1884-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440793400772496786" border="0" /></a><br /><br />See? Beautiful! Just visit this link:<br /><br /><a href="http://trhsponsors.blogspot.com/2010/02/apron-giveaway-by-christa-taylor.html">http://trhsponsors.blogspot.com/2010/02/apron-giveaway-by-christa-taylor.html</a></div>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-3049833456648076282010-02-06T13:05:00.001-06:002010-02-06T13:07:11.949-06:00Visit Ruche!<a href="http://www.shopruche.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://www.shopruche.com/images/contests/vday.jpg" border="0" height="200" width="300" /></a><br />If you know me, you know that I LOVE clothes. One place that I love the clothes from is <a href="http://www.shopruche.com/index.php">Ruche</a>, so for sure you should check it out!Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-13534300846770343612009-09-27T18:23:00.000-05:002009-09-27T18:24:04.487-05:00Preaching Photo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTPyuFTASvkHOFPexrM1m-G8zFpkHop_j1qbUv1LWRinpAp_1xQJk94gxBtcCP4f1HZAH30Im5OagSq7P0VEWay8FEPOw1ZY1N4UT2PI0kun1Xq_Cn2cNtfBgy1BRmsFNyU0o1td1Oz3lD/s1600-h/preaching.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTPyuFTASvkHOFPexrM1m-G8zFpkHop_j1qbUv1LWRinpAp_1xQJk94gxBtcCP4f1HZAH30Im5OagSq7P0VEWay8FEPOw1ZY1N4UT2PI0kun1Xq_Cn2cNtfBgy1BRmsFNyU0o1td1Oz3lD/s400/preaching.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386291990217102370" border="0" /></a>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-44112321004320106712009-09-10T16:38:00.003-05:002009-09-10T16:46:51.000-05:00Allow Me to Introduce MyselfSometimes I can be anti-social. I can be shy and reserved and quiet. Sometimes I don't want to leave my room because I am afraid I will have no one to sit with or talk to, so I stay inside my safe room and sit on my safe bed and eat canned fruit. I love canned fruit. I don't know why. I didn't like canned fruit, but then I started working at a nursing home. I don't know if it is an universal thing, but I feel like canned fruit and nursing homes go together. Sometimes I don't talk in class, sometimes I open my mouth and really stupid things come out. Sometimes I spend more time on Facebook than I do studying, but after all, I am in college. I am obsessed with necklaces with keys or owls on them. I eat when I am bored. I run into walls and door frames and I trip over my own foot.<br /><br />I come up short. I fail. I am human. I believe that I a dirty, rotten sinner. But I also believe that there is grace and God's grace covers me. It wraps me up and takes me to a place where my love for God overwhelms my love for sin.<br /><br />I am Annie.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-74116370677459978502009-08-30T22:57:00.003-05:002009-08-30T23:06:29.502-05:00Too OftenToo often we forget to enjoy the moments.<br />Too often we forget that there is church where there is a community of believers.<br />Too often we forget that each day is precious.<br />Too often we forget to see the beauty in old architecture.<br />Too often we forget to just breath in and breath out and that each breath means that we are living.<br />Too often we forget that because we are still living, God has a purpose for us.<br />Too often we forget that God's church doesn't have a mission, but that God's mission has a church.<br />Too often we forget that when God called us, we were immature baby Christians, that we were lowly, dirty, rotten sinners.<br />Too often we forget that God uses the ragamuffins.<br />Too often we forget that the kingdom of God belongs to the poor in spirit.<br />Too often we forget that community and fellowship go hand in hand.<br />Too often we forget that we are so totally blessed.<br />Too often we forget to love one another.<br />Too often we forget that whatever you give to one of the least of these, you have given to Jesus.<br />Too often we forget the importance of communion.<br />Too often we forget that Christ Jesus died for us while we were still sinners.<br />Too often we forget who we are living for.<br />Too often we get too busy making a living, that we forget to make a life.<br />Too often we forget to unwind and remember the good times.<br />Too often we forget that Jesus saves us.<br /><br />Well, I want you to remember.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-87981731096706358562009-08-01T09:00:00.002-05:002009-08-01T09:16:07.902-05:00Single and SavedLook at the title. I think that the latter is more important, but some people probably think that the former is more important. However, I found this poem from someone else's blog and I liked what it said so I thought that I would post it here. However, I do want to say that it is funny because I was just thinking about how long I have been single (which it has been quite some time relative to how old I am) and when I first got out of a relationship/having a <span style="font-style: italic;">guy</span> in my life I thought that I would just become alright with being single and then God would bring someone into my life. Then after a while of feeling pathetic not having Friday night plans, I figured that I might not be okay with being single, but God would realize that I am trying and still bring someone into my life. Then I finally became content with being single and realized that God wants to keep me single because my single years are valuable years of my life. Besides, I am only starting college, so there is definitely no hurry towars finding a mate. My cousin told me something that was pretty good advice. She said, "Never make plans on where you want to be by the time you are a certain age, because you will only be dissappointed when you get to that age and nothing is like you wanted it to be." I feel that goes for career plans, but also for relationship plans. Because I am 18 and I very easily could say that in six years, I hope to already be married and starting to plan having children, but what if six years go by and I am still single? Will I still be content then? Only if I find contentment in the Lord and not in guys. So, anyway, I wanted to share this with you. The author is unknown as far as I could tell, but it is good and right on:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Single and Saved</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"></span></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br />What makes you think that just because I am an attractive woman of Godly intelligence that I'm incomplete without a mate? Who told you that without a man something's missing from my life? And if so, what would that be?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Love?</span> I love myself and more importantly I love the Lord. He told me that when I delight in Him, He will give me the desires of my heart. <span style="font-style: italic;">Security?</span> I have everything I need according to His riches in glory. <span style="font-style: italic;">Intimacy?</span> Now, how's a man going to get to know me when he doesn't even know who he is in the Lord?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">See my Father told me I'm above a ruby's worth and a gem does not seek, it is sought. I'm single and that's all right with me. See, it's not that I oppose relationships, it's that I detest co-dependency. As a woman I know it is not my role to chase after any man. Esther 2:14 reads that I am to wait on my king and when he's delighted in me he will call me by my name.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">My Lord does not intend for me to be needy or desperate. I am to be Cherished, Relished, Valued, and Honored. It's not my job to convince him or convict him of that. My mate will already know it and consistently show it and he will stay on his knees daily - not just to adore me but to praise the Lord for the virtuous woman he has found.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">So, when you see me by myself - I'm not alone. I know what I have coming to me. I'm single and saved, and right now that's all I need to be!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">-Author Unknown</span>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-49018036039999636672009-07-25T09:24:00.004-05:002009-07-25T09:32:05.603-05:00No Going BackI didn't want to go to TBC because I really did feel that only losers stay home and go to college. But, honestly, I have since realized that isn't true. I honestly wish I could just go to TBC to start off with. However, I have also since really locked in MNU, so there is no going back. I am trying to tell myself to think positive and it is just fear of the unknown that is keeping me afraid of going over nine hours away for college. I am trying to tell myself that everything will work out, it won't be so bad and I will actually enjoy it. However, it seems that the part of my mind that is negative wins out over my positive self a lot more often than not. Nine hours is a really long drive. What was I thinking? But what I think makes it the most difficult for me to get excited is that I wanted to go to MNU ever since I was in the 8th grade. But now, I can't remember why I wanted to go there so badly. I really feel like I have lost sight of God's plan for me and my life. I have no idea what I want to actually get a degree in and I have no idea what God wants me to do. I always felt like I knew before and I always worked hard to get there. For years, I wanted to become a youth pastor. But I don't know if it is part of growing up or being practical that made me think that odds are I would make an awful youth pastor. Now I have preached in front of my church and other churches before and when I am on stage or behind a pulpit, I feel like that is exactly where I am supposed to be. However, I highly doubt I could ever pastor a church because I don't really think I could lead a flock in the right direction.<br /><br />So, those are some of my fears and I really hope I will get to MNU (<span style="font-style: italic;">in less than a month</span>) and realize that everything will be alright. But for now, I am really just afraid.<br /><br />As for the moment, I am still inbetween the jump and where I'm landing, so we will see how things go.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-3139168246915210422009-07-23T21:31:00.002-05:002009-07-23T22:09:30.709-05:00Death and DyingDid you know? The same enzymes that digest your food while you're alive will start eating your body once you're dead.<br /><br />Do you think that is an uncomfortable fact? Why? Death is a part of life. Granted it is the end of life, but everything has an end. But let's fact it. We don't like talking about death. We don't like saying someone died. That is probably why there are more than 200 euphemisms for death.<br /><br />If you are a "technical" writer, you might say that instead of someone dying, they were lost in translation or they collapsed their outline. Perhaps if you are a Julia Child fan, you could say that someone is pushing up parsley, they were put in the crisper, they are marinating in soil and worms, they are sampling the french onion soup with a salmonella soup, cooking for the Kennedy's, or you could simply say, "Just add maggots." If you are a writer, you could put it poetically by saying they made the big deadline or they went to the big spell checker in the sky. Trekkies might say they are sleeping with the Tribbles.<br /><br />However, if you don't fit into any of those categories, don't worry. There is a lot you could say without ever uttering the word "die." People push up daisies, kick the bucket, go to meet their maker, rest in peace, are six feet under, cross over, cease to be, check out, depart, perish, croak, kick off more often than they just die. Being in Abraham’s bosom, sleeping the big sleep, having gone to one’s narrow bed, having gone to one’s reward, and having gone to feed the fishes are also something you could describe a dead person as well. Next time you want to point out that another bit the dust, remember that death doesn't have to be depressing. We don't need to sugarcoat death or dying, because there is hope.<br /><br />One death. One resurrection. That is why we can have hope. Jesus died on the cross for our sins. What do we need to do? Repent and turn away from our sins. Jesus died on the cross for us so that even though we are dying, we can have hope.<br /><br />Why am I talking about this? No, I am not just obsessed with death. I am just taking it to heart. Because I know that so often we just get caught up in living the day-to-day that we forget the big picture. We forget that someday we will die (that's right, die) and what will we have to show for our lives? Did we make an impact for Christ? I am not asking you to "leave a legacy," I am asking you to realize that you closer to your death now than you have ever been in your life because I want you to realize that every day is precious. Every day is an opportunity to share Christ's love. Share the hope that even though we are all born into the world dirty, rotten sinners, we don't have to have death be the end.<br /><br />It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart. --Ecclesiastes 7:2Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-7791984153353341812009-07-21T09:45:00.007-05:002009-07-21T09:59:23.836-05:00What I Have Been Doing LatelyI know that I have really been slacking when it comes to posting and I do apologize for that. So, here are some pictures to briefly show you what I have been up to. Of course, there are no pictures of me working, which is what I have been doing most of the time. But, when I haven't been working, I have been:<br /><div style="text-align: center;">Graduating:<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWjgQ2O_-dom86EXDHWuFgCnSxeGk7DK96PA1ADHcZusQk-3n-hFhhhPTmFa5M6pK7VCcIiOEb7GFwc4bdYiGJr1D_4aFmXMzYCgdJ6BHqpVZB_lFrYvVdiD9Ws0hXP82qLNPqoWy0iE6/s1600-h/Summer+So+Far+012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWjgQ2O_-dom86EXDHWuFgCnSxeGk7DK96PA1ADHcZusQk-3n-hFhhhPTmFa5M6pK7VCcIiOEb7GFwc4bdYiGJr1D_4aFmXMzYCgdJ6BHqpVZB_lFrYvVdiD9Ws0hXP82qLNPqoWy0iE6/s400/Summer+So+Far+012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360925885837803282" border="0" /></a>Turning 18:<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicVY96ud-WOf1aCHZG9Agn4frUJIfL-RdU2SClOjS5_ZUPpEm7qKQ6sIDZ4XhNXu2xclcbRb9Tn8AoAhwFdskjhWoQgYNFQmgWYbBnKX3HDtQSAgI5smcTiyMJX8gzBRGIaG-kC2x-1CcJ/s1600-h/Summer+So+Far+014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicVY96ud-WOf1aCHZG9Agn4frUJIfL-RdU2SClOjS5_ZUPpEm7qKQ6sIDZ4XhNXu2xclcbRb9Tn8AoAhwFdskjhWoQgYNFQmgWYbBnKX3HDtQSAgI5smcTiyMJX8gzBRGIaG-kC2x-1CcJ/s400/Summer+So+Far+014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360926531174322402" border="0" /></a>Being in a wedding:<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRshqA6fKBV3_ALYVIDFCQGA1NJTt70RAKkWS9sh6TYS7ASxdYrsxFoziSuTFm1NIaIaoGKSNKDQ5orkYISrnzE19yXzwwPOrn_AIM6aAVz607iS69kahvuskT-_T9C0lnnkZbuUYNSESu/s1600-h/6015_507576387530_183900214_30304928_5730054_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRshqA6fKBV3_ALYVIDFCQGA1NJTt70RAKkWS9sh6TYS7ASxdYrsxFoziSuTFm1NIaIaoGKSNKDQ5orkYISrnzE19yXzwwPOrn_AIM6aAVz607iS69kahvuskT-_T9C0lnnkZbuUYNSESu/s400/6015_507576387530_183900214_30304928_5730054_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360927001825022130" border="0" /></a>Going to Montana (with my youth group):<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqcEhokRlwtUJuy7GR6QqCVo01nAkSJOpXQ6G5ZAGl8kXQ4oc1CCd1t0BCFCmkGMzk66np2hquDG8W1DiUf6jF8mt6bfaPSiX347d8jwilu3C7Kfqih4eL_AmWEttJ8qsIFrE7qYxaqQE/s1600-h/6288_105455522115_516872115_2640416_1161266_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDqcEhokRlwtUJuy7GR6QqCVo01nAkSJOpXQ6G5ZAGl8kXQ4oc1CCd1t0BCFCmkGMzk66np2hquDG8W1DiUf6jF8mt6bfaPSiX347d8jwilu3C7Kfqih4eL_AmWEttJ8qsIFrE7qYxaqQE/s400/6288_105455522115_516872115_2640416_1161266_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360927601031207538" border="0" /></a>Celebrating Kyle's birthday:<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicSQVoOfCNsdjhyphenhyphen0FEAxBtiQgZ_Er4aPm8WoNfnBvSD04Rv60sxBTXVi7yFcGB1-Nvut6GUAV135w81fIfUdX5jhFhlJbvF6lUWL3V7UPoRMhrD2FWHLX_OSVXsQOcDzz2rEP7KrHnqoc-/s1600-h/Summer+So+Far+022.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicSQVoOfCNsdjhyphenhyphen0FEAxBtiQgZ_Er4aPm8WoNfnBvSD04Rv60sxBTXVi7yFcGB1-Nvut6GUAV135w81fIfUdX5jhFhlJbvF6lUWL3V7UPoRMhrD2FWHLX_OSVXsQOcDzz2rEP7KrHnqoc-/s400/Summer+So+Far+022.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360928018079632882" border="0" /></a>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-47948809056554157292009-07-17T20:49:00.001-05:002009-07-17T20:49:31.290-05:00Failure or ...Success<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/45mMioJ5szc&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/45mMioJ5szc&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-46005027156482376652009-07-07T19:43:00.002-05:002009-07-07T20:01:27.903-05:00Let it All OutI remember reading a quote once that was like, "A boat is safe in the harbor, but that is not what it was made for." Same goes for me, I suppose, an Annie is safe at home, but that is not what she was made for. However, I cannot help but being stressed.<br /><br />First off, I have a headache right now because I did a lot of crying today. I did a lot of crying today because I had to take my cat, Olive back to the vet. She got her back claws declawed and she also got spayed a week ago and she wasn't getting better. She wouldn't eat or walk around, she wouldn't do anything but sleep. She was in pain, so we had to take her back to the vets whose fault is probably is in the first place. She has an infection in her body and I don't think she is doing too good. The vet said that they would have to keep her overnight and probably for several days. Now, my family are animal people, when we get a pet, they become part of our family. It feels empty in the house without her. I cried so much because I blame myself and because I know how death works. I work in a nursing home. I know people get infections and sometimes they don't come out of them. I really hope you aren't one of those annoying people who think that it is pointless to pray for cat. I remember my old Sunday School teacher once saying how he liked teaching kids that were middle school aged instead of younger because the younger kids had prayer requests for the kitties all the time. Let me tell you that my cat is my baby. She came into our backyard with a broken leg and cracked pevis and we took her in. And she began part of our family. I don't want to lose part of my family.<br /><br />I am going to try to stop thinking about my kitten now because it is making me want to cry again. And I have already cried off most of my mascara. I got new tires put on my car today (believe me, having to get new tires on my car was another stress all its own) and so my mom and I had to kill time in Wal-Mart so we bought some supplies for college which only made me realize that I need to prepare and make lists of what I need to take to college. Which really just makes me stressed out because I don't want to go to college. I don't want to leave, I don't want anything to change. We are having to make some changes at the nursing home in dietary because the driver (who takes the food from the nursing home to the other building where it is the assisted care facility) is probably going to want a job that is actually more than just two 1.5 hours split up through the day, so they want to supply the position with the people who are actually already working, which isn't something that I really find ideal, because I don't like change. So I went with the driver one day to learn how and the dietary head person asked me how I liked it and I said that I didn't think it was so bad, even though I didn't want to think it could work because I don't like change. She was like, "I expected the older morning ladies to say that, but not you." Which basically led to a conversation about how I don't like change, I don't rearrange me furniture and that I am scared to go off to college. Of course, I am very scared to go off to college. I am scared of change and I am scared of, well, a lot of things. Which is stressing me out.<br /><br />I think that there was something else that I was going to talk about, but I don't actually remember. I am not even very sure that anything else that I have said has made sense. You see, this is why I don't like having a day off, because when I get a day off, I think. When I think, I stress out. And then I cry and get headaches and everything goes wrong. I just want my cat to be okay.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-45988746796585715672009-07-02T14:26:00.002-05:002009-07-02T14:30:41.778-05:00Death is not DyingFor those of you who know me, I am not one to shy away from talking about death. I work at the nursing home and find out another resident died very often. But more importantly, I know that we are all dying. This isn't bad news for me. Not that death makes me excited or dying is happy, but I know that death isn't the end. That is why I am not afraid or scared of death. When I die, I know that it will only get better.<br /><br />I really encourage you to <a href="http://deathisnotdying.com/">check this website out</a>. Please <a href="http://deathisnotdying.com/">watch the video</a>, even though it is a long video, it is well worth your time. Here's a quote from Rachel Barkey:<br /><blockquote>“Cancer does not define me. Neither does being a wife or a mother. All these things are part of who I am but they do not define me. What defines me is my relationship with Jesus.”<br /></blockquote>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-44437516888377368702009-06-30T22:15:00.001-05:002009-06-30T22:15:57.152-05:00Two Hands<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q0h2sUC6wPg&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Q0h2sUC6wPg&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-65248478000406761952009-06-15T22:11:00.001-05:002009-06-15T22:13:15.264-05:00This is Obsession<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj0YU7zTEpnX0tYrcUhFLv-uPw8L_ujeFHkWlI_jFZq_hE4SNEh5bv5TJkqMujuzSFq_u-XKOhrUBD0ZvCeAlu3aaQjlZCXkLVN3LLrohyphenhyphenlUy4mIDr7GKtQLEQ2WB42CNWILQI3bt4Okzr/s1600-h/19-DEFAULT-m.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj0YU7zTEpnX0tYrcUhFLv-uPw8L_ujeFHkWlI_jFZq_hE4SNEh5bv5TJkqMujuzSFq_u-XKOhrUBD0ZvCeAlu3aaQjlZCXkLVN3LLrohyphenhyphenlUy4mIDr7GKtQLEQ2WB42CNWILQI3bt4Okzr/s400/19-DEFAULT-m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347757902317700770" border="0" /></a><br />Why, yes, I did just become a fan of Peach Rings on Facebook. And, yes, that is what our society has come to. But, what can I say? I love me some Peach rings.<br /><br />Hint, hint, my birthday is tomorrow. Buy me some Peach Os. It will make my day.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-88763324375922221912009-06-14T21:58:00.003-05:002009-06-14T22:06:21.197-05:00Weird Confessions #2<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYqZEgaQx6lG2aeOV10vDodqJxnff_PJsGKUTpbArpGVJ_2bsg8gVKXPk3Qq0p9CjVL8votjKDKlgbk2KIF_zTieX3KNGFcSMWOCQpDAf-6fvt8W8CKUEY0LKmXrjl52wXKVaO2a6YEdj/s1600-h/principal.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYqZEgaQx6lG2aeOV10vDodqJxnff_PJsGKUTpbArpGVJ_2bsg8gVKXPk3Qq0p9CjVL8votjKDKlgbk2KIF_zTieX3KNGFcSMWOCQpDAf-6fvt8W8CKUEY0LKmXrjl52wXKVaO2a6YEdj/s400/principal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347383434364201762" border="0" /></a>I know this probably seems weird, but I was just thinking and I realized something: Now that I am a high school graduate (throw your fist in the air, thank you), I can look back and say that I was never really sent to the principle's office. I mean, yeah, I went there to talk to him about class scheduling, FCA, and basketball stuff (I did stats and he was the coach), but I don't really have any cool "I was sent to the principle's office" stories. Now, granted, there was this time someone stole my purse (and maybe tried to frame someone else by putting in their locker or maybe they were the ones who stole it in the first place), and I had to explain to the principle way I thought to open her locker and magically find it (I knew she stole other people's stuff; believe me, it was not a situation that I would like to relive), but I don't have any cool stories. Now it is probably good that I was not a trouble maker, but if I were, I think I would have better stories. And if you know me, I am all for a good story.<br /><br />Anyway, my point is, how are you living your life? Are you being the cookie cutter goody-two shoes or are you enjoying living your life to the fullest? Every day, getting good stories? Or every day, just getting by? We were called to live. Is that what you are doing?Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-15317371720695454392009-06-14T21:55:00.000-05:002009-06-14T22:14:13.188-05:00Weird Confessions #1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2pyNm4m1PcUn_ULeIor5oLOlO8x0Fjwr5DKNT7zn03voppsVyhgbb9V5Y-LOwUpBLU8u0EmdaOG8AlQ0RR3ht8AZreskMiw-T4g9h3cwm7dUWZwYqgL8fGWYTgf7MyN_vU7E-NsyjGBY6/s1600-h/1310818392_8f4b34f3c3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2pyNm4m1PcUn_ULeIor5oLOlO8x0Fjwr5DKNT7zn03voppsVyhgbb9V5Y-LOwUpBLU8u0EmdaOG8AlQ0RR3ht8AZreskMiw-T4g9h3cwm7dUWZwYqgL8fGWYTgf7MyN_vU7E-NsyjGBY6/s400/1310818392_8f4b34f3c3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347385467336896818" border="0" /></a>I know this may sound weird, but I really like to match. We are going to ignore that fact that lately, no one has really seen me when I am not wearing scrubs and have my hair shoved back into a ponytail (I also hate having my hair in the ponytail, but that is a story for a different time) and so I really have gotten a chance to accessorize to the point where it makes me happy. Normally, however, I really do enjoy putting time into my appearance, mainly, my outfit. And no, not because I am trying to impress anyone (yes, one of the residents told me today that my "eyes are so pretty they must drive the guys crazy," so all I need are my eyes apparently), I really do enjoy being pretty just for me. But anyway, that is not my point. My point is that I really enjoying having things match. (And no, tan shirt, tan pants and tan socks isn't matching. Well, it might be matching, but even I know matching overkill.) I realized a while ago that the days when what I am wearing matches the toothbrush that I brush my teeth with makes for a really good day. So, I confess that when I have my own place (my mom won't let me be OCD under her roof), I secretly plan to have a toothbrush in a whole bunch of colors so that I can only brush my teeth with what matches the clothes I am wearing for the day.<br /><br />I am weird and that is my confession.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-15300547854571918782009-06-09T21:40:00.003-05:002009-06-09T21:48:06.156-05:00Love is Still a Worthy Cause<div style="text-align: center;">Since I have no real time to write anything (I suppose I should learn to make time), I am going to give you some fiction. I wrote this for a class and granted it probably isn't very good. Maybe it doesn't even really make sense. Oh, well. I wrote it. It is a short story. There you go. (P.S. Yes, I did get the name of the main character from an Anberlin song. Deal with it.<br /></div><br />Love is Still a Worthy Cause<br />by Andra Lauren<br /><br />Adelaide sat down on the rusty bench. The bench had once been green, before the paint started to make a run for it. In this end of town, even the paint wanted to get away. She pushed her straight brown shoulder-length hair behind her ear as she tightly clutched a wrinkled piece of paper that was yellowed with time.<br /><br />“Are you waiting for the bus?” asked an old man as he walked up to the bench. He was wearing a hat and carrying a newspaper. His gray slacks and matching gray vest made him look professional, but he looked well beyond retirement years.<br /><br />“Hmm. Mmhmm,” mumbled Adelaide, her attention was clearly elsewhere. She wasn’t really waiting for the bus. She looked around until she noticed the old rusty sign. Behind the graffiti read, “Bus Stop.” She looked over to the man and saw his grey hair and wrinkled, but kind face. “Yeah, I guess I am.”<br /><br />Adelaide smiled politely at the man as he said, “I’m waiting, too.”<br /><br />“I’m Adelaide,” she said.<br /><br />“Nice to meet you, I am Finn.”<br /><br />Adelaide glanced at Finn’s newspaper. “Anything in the news?”<br /><br />“The same old,” he replied, “War is still going on. More dying all the time.”<br /><br />Adelaide glanced at the piece of paper in her hand. Then she remembered the last glance from the taxicab as her brother drove away. Her brother looked strong and brave as he left. He looked a lot different when he returned. Even with the peach blush they added to his cheeks, nothing could hide the pale whiteness in his face.<br /><br />Finn could tell this wasn’t the conversation that she wanted to have. He knew that talking about the weather wouldn’t be enough to break the ice that surrounded them, even in the 80-degree weather.<br /><br />Tears started to flow from her eyes, picking up speed as soon as the next tear came out of her eye. She quickly tried to brush the tears away. Adelaide looked away from the old man.<br /><br />“Would you like to hear a joke, young lady?”<br /><br />Her expression turned to surprise. Embarrassed that he must have seen her tears, she nodded.<br /><br />“A guy goes to jail for robbing a bank. Since the police fear that he might try to plan an escape, they told him that he was not allowed to talk to the other inmates. That night, he hears some of the inmates shouting numbers. When someone shouted, ‘27!’ everyone started laughing. This guy didn’t understand what was going on, so the next day he got a chance to talk to another inmate. ‘What was going on? I heard people shouting numbers and laughing.’ The inmate replied, ‘Well, since we are not allowed to talk, we have assigned different jokes to different numbers. Whenever anyone says a number, we think of that joke and laugh.’ So, that night the guy shouts, ’48!’ No one responds. The next day, the guy talks to the inmate, ‘That was a funny joke! Sid told me the joke and now no one laughs. What happened?’ The inmate replies, ‘Well, some people just can’t tell a joke!’”<br /><br />Adelaide laughed, “Where did you hear that?”<br /><br />“Oh, my father told me that joke. He was a good man. Served in World War I and World War II. Good man.” Finn laughed, remembering the man that taught him how to fish and how to drive. He sighed, looked up to the sky and said, “One day, pretty soon, I will be able to see my father again.”<br /><br />Adelaide looked up, confused. “How will you get to see him again, Finn?”<br /><br />“Well, Miss, it won’t be long before I join my father in heaven.”<br /><br />Adelaide stopped on the word heaven. She didn’t know much of heaven, but she was sure that she couldn’t be counting down the days until she got there, because she didn’t think she could count for that long. She looked at Finn and noticed his laugh lines. She could tell that Finn had lived a long, good life.<br /><br />“That’s real nice,” she quietly said, thinking that she would never get a chance to see Finn in heaven, or anyone else.<br /><br />Finn looked at her. “Don’t give up hope, child.”<br /><br />“It’s not hard to recall what blew out the flame. It’s dark where I am, and I don’t think I should waste time hoping on something that won’t happen.”<br /><br />“Adelaide, I can see that your heart is raw. But love is still a worthy cause. Love can be the touch that starts the thaw on any frozen heart. Why are you hiding?”<br /><br />Adelaide looked down at her dusty shoes. She remembered the day of the funeral. It was raining and everyone’s black umbrella made everyone’s clothes look blacker. She couldn’t remember what the reverend had said that day. She just remembered feeling angry. She was angry at a god who would take away her brother before it was his time. She wanted to yell at a god who would leave her alone, without the older brother that she depended on. He was the older brother who had been there the day both their parents died in a car accident. He was all she had and it was all gone in a matter of minutes. A minute was all it took for the enemy’s bullet to pierce his chest.<br /><br />Suddenly her fist clutched the piece of paper tighter. She had forgotten all about the piece of paper until now. The small piece of paper felt as heavy as a lead pipe dragging her down to her knees. She could hear her brother’s words screaming as if he were shouting from a public platform.<br /><br />She broke down. She could feel Finn’s hand on her shoulder. The wind seemed to pick up just then, and it whistled her brother’s words until his words were reverberating off the walls surrounding her. Her brother was telling her then just as he told her in the last letter he wrote to her, “Don’t let your love grow cold. I will always love you. I pray that you always love Jesus."Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-43313554125875551822009-06-04T21:10:00.003-05:002009-06-04T21:28:28.702-05:00All the Live Long DaySo, I was working tonight and Dixie decided to come visit (but really, she just wanted to kill time) and so since it was in between Subiaco tray line and the main tray line, she sat on the floor and I sat with her. Then Leona came in the kitchen to tell Gloria that she wanted cereal for supper and she saw Dixie and me on the floor and she said, "Are you on strike?" I laughed. It was fun.<br /><br />Basically all of my stories involve my nursing home residents because since 6:00 in the morning until 8:00 (with a three hour break where I ran errands and went to the high school to work on the yearbook in between), I have been at the nursing home.<br /><br />I am not really all that tired, because there are a lot of people around me (and really, in the whole world) that work a lot harder than I do. I am sure there are a lot more people whose feet hurt a lot more than me. I guess that doesn't make me any less tired, it just means that I really shouldn't complain. I do, after all, enjoy working. I enjoy my old people. I will be honest, I enjoy making money, too.<br /><br />Basically, I am too tired to really be coherent. The End.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-19456800651528411212009-06-02T08:31:00.003-05:002009-06-02T16:36:16.371-05:00Hustling While I WaitI almost dropped an axe on my foot yesterday. And that basically sums up my life lately.<br /><br />My mom and I did a bunch of financial filling out forms stuff yesterday. That is depressing in and of itself. It is not too happy to read "This is a loan. You will need to repay this loan" over and over again. It is even more not too happy knowing that even after accepting the loan for the maximum amount, I will still not be able to afford college. It is really quite depressing. No matter what I do, I am going to graduate college underneath a huge pile of debt. And I don't even have any rich relatives that are going to die. I don't even have any rich relatives. Even if I did, I don't think I would want them to die, but I hope you get what I mean. I am going to be a college graduate with a whole bunch of debt. To make matters worse, I am going into the ministry. Which means that I will be a college graduate with a whole bunch of debt that is going into a field that does not make a whole bunch of money. On the bright side, someone going into the ministry should be the one to know that if God wants you somewhere, He will provide the resources to make it happen.<br /><br />Also, I have been looking at cars to hopefully buy a car, but that isn't any happier. In fact, it was quite honestly stressing me out. I have broken out in stress rashes on both of my arms. I drove a couple cars at one place and let me just say that I don't like people who work on commission. They pressure you too much and make you feel like you have to decide. Right away. Then we went to another place and the guy was nice. Mom explained to him that I got stressed before and he said, "if car shopping isn't fun, you are shopping at the wrong place." I drove a car there and it fit and I loved it. However, it isn't something I can afford, but if I could, I would have no trouble deciding. I would choose that car in a heartbeat. Of course, that wouldn't make my dad too happy, because if I choose anything that isn't a Ford, he isn't happy. Don't get me wrong, I am a hardcore Ford person, too, but that car felt way more comfortable than Ford Focuses that I have driven. Anyway, I am getting a stress rash. And that's not too attractive.<br /><br />First off, I want to say that the next pay period I am scheduled for a lot of days and I wanted to be scheduled for a lot of days because I need the money. Of course, that doesn't mean that I don't know that I will be incredibly tired and worn out from working a lot. I work 13 days straight. Today I have a day off and I won't have another day off until my birthday, actually. The16th. It is funny because I didn't even ask for my birthday off, because I just figured I would have to work it anyway, but I still got my birthday off. I don't really care much about my birthday, so I would have been okay with it if I had to work on my birthday, but I suppose working on your 18th birthday isn't ideal.<br /><br />At least that axe didn't actually hit my foot. Maybe that's a sign that everything will be alright.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-40905015479737555542009-05-30T19:42:00.001-05:002009-05-30T19:42:58.411-05:00I Worked Hard Today<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8DFUi2GgqrkQLjbyauICDwTabiInJhU_H9F9F6JnhaVX7M2uJiWTyDqBViDqDbTfcYALtCJdLln4lY8TGzi-FbsNFJH50BdeijKTbu8a5Ti5C34hyphenhyphenYcZk6HPKtQZ2YSw0x4xmh3evT76/s1600-h/0530091935-778412.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO8DFUi2GgqrkQLjbyauICDwTabiInJhU_H9F9F6JnhaVX7M2uJiWTyDqBViDqDbTfcYALtCJdLln4lY8TGzi-FbsNFJH50BdeijKTbu8a5Ti5C34hyphenhyphenYcZk6HPKtQZ2YSw0x4xmh3evT76/s320/0530091935-778412.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341782161806912978" /></a></p>I worked 6 to 2 and then 5 to 8. On the bright side, I need the money.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-76041079581970688052009-05-22T10:38:00.001-05:002009-05-22T10:38:35.824-05:00I am Loved<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJAK5yTz_YmoK3gyhuwHq7kPf7Z62kgUM9tnCn95ylulGRMd74pa0CR4WDSMISgb7VKOQJOHrYQvjaI7FbVBQ9B9ze3FjJK55sI8_FIbFAW76YTWnM4f_r1fywUXyHMV44NT6IiDANNLT/s1600-h/0522091036-715825.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJAK5yTz_YmoK3gyhuwHq7kPf7Z62kgUM9tnCn95ylulGRMd74pa0CR4WDSMISgb7VKOQJOHrYQvjaI7FbVBQ9B9ze3FjJK55sI8_FIbFAW76YTWnM4f_r1fywUXyHMV44NT6IiDANNLT/s320/0522091036-715825.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338673191676694898" /></a></p>Even though some people can't make it to my grad party, they still show they care. Becky cut up stuff for my salad.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7838180284193112384.post-67476615800596651112009-05-17T21:29:00.002-05:002009-05-17T21:38:19.987-05:00BittersweetIn one week, I will be still be 17. In one week, I will still live at home in my same bedroom that I have lived in my whole life. In one week, I will still be the same person. But...<br /><br />In one week, I am going to graduate high school. In one week, I will be done with high school. In one week, I will no longer be a high school senior. In one week, I will be in "the real world."<br /><br />It is a weird feeling. It is probably bittersweet. Jonas told me that he misses high school. I am sure that I will miss high school, too. I am excited, because it is the "future". It is...bittersweet is probably the best word.<br /><br />I would say more, but I can't focus.Andra Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06806837855903536764noreply@blogger.com0