Tell me I'm not crazy, well maybe just a little bit....

I am pleased to say that autumn is here. And I gladly welcome it with open arms, steaming coffee, and comfy hoodies. Late September through early November continue to be my favorite months, and Fall my favorite season. The change is so tangible, expressed through colors, and smells, it refuses to be ignored. I find that my imagination goes wild as my senses explore this magnificent transformation.


Being a part-time employed gal, missing her brother, with some time on her hands and errands to do, I found myself adventuring through neighboring towns yesterday. Purchasing chemicals, picking up job applications, making bank runs, and visiting one of my favorite places in the world: the library. 


There I returned all my books, and went to find some new world to delve into. Success, I think. I left the great hall of literature with only two books in my bag this time, I had learned my lesson on over ambitious amounts of reading with lack of time to do so, and was intrigued by the story line of my new companions. (Happenstance Found, by P.W. Catanese, an author who apparently lives in CT, and The Wednesday Wars, by Gary D. Schmidt an author who does not live in CT ;)


I pushed through the double doors out into the gray, damp world of downtown Manchester. And as I made my way to my parallel parked car, leather boots sloshing through puddles, something about the whimsical plot of Happenstance tickled a corner of my brain....I pondered it the rest of the day as I listened to the pitter patter of rain on the windowpanes. Finally my imagination got the better of me. I grabbed an old notebook filled with loose papers and a tale of epicness in the the making,(a little story I had long since put down and nearly forgotten about) set up camp in my garage, and prepared for a walk in the rain.


 With leather boots laced up and a heavy barn jacket I strolled up towards my cul-de-sac. The street was deserted and lit by four or five dim lamps. The air was pleasantly fresh, and I lifted my face towards the sky inviting the rain to soak me. It may sound terribly odd, but trudging through dark streets in the rain can be quite invigorating. As I traveled up the street my mind went on many adventures. So many stories, so many possibilities. 


Returning to my garage I slouched down in a canvas chair, notebook in my lap, doors wide open, the sound of rain and chill of mist floating through. I sat there for the next hour familiarizing myself with old friends, and reconstructing new and exciting plot lines. Thinking up all sorts of adventures that I wish I could have. Once or twice my father came out with looks of confusion, amusement, and what may have been concern for my sanity. I was inspired. Blame it on the weather. Blame it on my new pair of scruffy leather boots. Blame it on boredom, or a lack of adventure. Blame it on my lunacy. I don't care. I had fun. 

I escaped for just a little bit, and it was most refreshing to do so.

You may say that I'm a dreamer

I'm a strange person. Part of what makes my personality so strange are the dreams that I have. Ever since I was little I've had these crazy dreams. Being babysat by evil creatures that belonged in Dr. Seuss books, being a pink robot and scaling a dangerous, snow-covered mountain in the middle of summer, getting married in the grocery store (reception immediately to follow in the swimmng pool....), my mother driving on the wrong side of the road with hamsters running around in our car, going to the set of LOTR just to find out that the Ents are made of twigs and Frodo owed his acting career to my family....Or, my personal favorite: The youth of America is kidnapped and forced to live and work for a secret society of Elephants with world domination on the brain, all living in a purlieu underground city beneath NYC....

Yes, you may say that I'm a dreamer. To say that I have an over-active imagination would be a vast(and insulting) understatement.
It has become apparent that I am just a creative and passionate person. If I'm not creating beautiful things with my hands, I'm daydreaming about road tripping, picnicing, house building, dress designing, music writing(something I can't do but wish I could), world traveling, coffee drinking, book writing, running around in disguises, planning the perfect crime, solving a dasterdly deed, and all around being spontaneous....And it would appear that the things I don't physically get to do play out mentally for me at night...no matter what it is I did that day, what I may have eaten late-late at night, I dream bizarre and wonderful dreams.

Someday I think I'll fill a book with all these peculiar thoughts that meander like a restless wind through my brain....it's a dream of mine ;)

pretty little thieves....

One of my favorite artists, Jon Foreman, performs my new favorite song in the old country style.

This is why we watch.

So last night was the Superbowl. And it was just ok this year, but that's only because the Packers won(bleh). But, men in tight shiny pants is not the only reason millions of Americans sit in front of their television sets every year to watch this program. No. Apart from the game you also have half-time, and the commercials.
Now, last year we had The Who at half time. They were pretty good, with their light show and stuff of legend - no matter how much they lip synced....But this year, THIS YEAR, we had *drum roll*...THE BLACK EYED PEAS! And they were....TERRIBLE! If you don't believe me, go look it up on YouTube, or all your friends FB feeds from last night.

The commercials, on the other hand, did NOT disappoint. Here are some of my favorites from last night:

Don't Worry, 'Bout A Thing...

This past week I had a service day and decided to try something other than the regular blow dry, or curls. What did we do? Dreads. Yes, you read that right, dreads, as in dreadlocks, like Bob Marley...but not as gross. After about 3 hours of teasing and twisting and teasing and waxing and teasing and waxing some more, my head was covered in teeny-tiny little dreadlocks. I only left them in for a day for fear of them deciding to become a permanent fixture upon my head. People asked me why I wasn't going to keep them in, "they totally fit you!" I was told through out the day. "You're a chameleon," one of my teachers told me. "You've had so many different styles on your head and you've rocked them all, you seem to be able to make anything work."

Well, why didn't I keep them? As my teacher said, I'm a "chameleon", I change my hair way too much style and color wise to hold onto dreads. I'm just not ready for that kind of commitment!(!!!!) That, and the only way to get rid of them(once they've been on your head for a while and have 'matured' - yes dreads go through a time of maturity - is to shave your head, and that is the last thing I want to do to my poor head of thick locks.)

Anyways, I think I got the dreadlock fever out of my system...for now...
And now I shall share with you my great joy and love of this fantastic and unique style in pictures:

This was just after I took out box braids...they were my 'almost - dreads'

This amazes me!

The Swashbooklers

For those of you who doubted that piracy and love of literature ran in my family... ;)

paper bag skits

Saturday, September 25, 2010...Cape Cod.

On the last night of our YG's fall retreat to Cape Cod we do something called "Paper Bag Skits" where we are given a genre, a list of props that MUST be used, and are set free into small groups to see what sort of theatrical creativeness we can jam into 5 minutes or less. Mostly we find a basic plot line, and improv the rest...we're pretty big on improv.

Normally I load all these on FB, but it is giving me grief today, so I thought I'd share a little of our fun with you her in the land of Blogs... enjoy :)

country roads take me home...

My tool belt. Sad not to be filled with nails, carrying a hammer, and roofing knife, and worn on a roof.

Wednesday evening. Pizza Hut. Fairmont 2009

http://http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=pfi3SSJPG9Y&feature=related












"Country roads, take me home to the place I belong, West Virginia! Mountain Momma, take me home, country roads."

Yuppers, it's that time of year again. Yesterday morning I got up at 5:00 in the am and escorted my dad and brother to the PCM parking lot where we met with the 50 other members of the group who were going on this annual missions trip to good ole' Fairmont West Virginia.


What makes this year different than the other 6? Well...





July 2004, a small group of people consisting of about 12-14 youths, arranged themselves into a circular shape on the front porch of the parsonage of PCM (when it was still on Spruce(?) st.) getting ready to head to Camp Mar-Mac. We were one of the smallest groups going to Fairmont, dwarfed by the size of Stony Point(a group who's gone down every year, the same week we have). I was 11, probably about 75-80ish lbs., and barely 5 ft. tall. I'd only been in the group for about five or so months, so I was relatively green to the group, and new to the idea of being away from my family for a whole week. I remember being homesick, I remember being exhausted. I remember waking up at 4:00 am on Wednesday morning and making biscuits, and thinking it was awesome to be up so early, and I remember sitting on the T.V. remote 5 out of 10 hrs of the trip there and never being able to live it down - even though everyone from that 'era' is no longer in the group. I came home the next Saturday having experienced something that would keep me going back again, and again.



July 2005, I went back, now categorized as a "repeat offender", this time not worried so much about home, or projects, or being a tiny squirt. This year, God was continuing a work in my heart he had stirred up last year. A servant's heart. I came home again, sad it was over and SO ready for next year.





July 2006, this was the year I had the pleasure of introducing my little bro, Oli, to the group. He came on the trip and I found that having a family member with me made a world of difference. Like having a small piece of home with you. :)





July 2007, I had the privilege of adding my dad to the Fairmont family, as well as my best friend Bella. At this point in time we had developed a core group of Fairmonteers who formed the backbone of the Youth Group itself. Our group had grown in age, experience, and numbers, now having a friendly rivalry with Stony Point, we had gotten used to sharing the "stomping grounds" with them.





July 2008, "The people from CONNECTICUT are coming!!!" we're back again, but to nowhere any of us were familiar with.

Enter camp Dayspring.

For years we had all been hearing Pastor Kenny and the other MTW leaders talk about this camp that, someday, would house all the MTW Fairmont staff and teams, instead of Mar-Mac, the 4-H camp we had been staying at for the past four years. Now, it was finally time for us all to "move in", or so to speak. God had blessed us with a new campsite, and leaders who wanted to give the teams a camp to call their own.


We had also been blessed with keeping the same "stomping grounds" as far as work sites were concerned. We were holding a VBS in the same church now as when we first came five years earlier. Our relationships with these kids, as well as the home owners, weren't just growing anymore, they were beginning to blossom. The relationships we had with each other as a group had grown stronger as well, each year seeming more like a family.


On our drive home, the car driving in front of us ran over a freshly hit dear, splattering the contents of its stomach across our windshield and bringing an aweful stench in through our air vents. That was when I broke out the remainder of the Febreze I had brought with me and all was well...short of gagging till our abs hurt.





July 2009, 5:45 am, the driver's and their vans meet in the parking lot. 15 minutes later the group starts to arrive. Bella appears, somehow awake and alive after arrivng home, back in the U.S.A, after a mission trip to Costa Rica with Merge, her church's youth group, just a couple hours earlier. We travel to Fairmont, this time as high school graduates. In an awkward place of leadership, not a youth, not an 'adult', but given specific jobs and heavier responsibilities.





This year was the most emotionally draining out of all my adventures to this wild, and wonderful state. I don't know if 2009 was filled with more drama than before, or if I was simply just more aware of it this time. As always, there was the newbie drama, rumor drama, project drama...the usual...yet somehow amplified. At one point in the week a kitten, that was hanging around one of the work sites, was found behind the kitchen, smuggled by a group of girls who seemed to think the poor thing was being malnourished, and homeless.


Some really good relationships became stressed to the breaking point( a 3-is-very-crowded sort of thing), and friendships questioned as something more...


Of course living in a cabin full of girls on all different levels of emotional soundness was drama in and of itself, but that is all part of the experience.


But of all the memories I have with me from this trip, I wouldn't choose to get rid of any of them. Waking up to John Linville playing the bugle, and Sherry singing the 'good morning' song at 6:15, standing in line to shake Kenny's hand on your way to breakfast, eating mysterious, squishy objects they tell you are sandwiches ("Today we have: Peanut Butter, and ... MEAT!"),


playing ultimate frisbee in a field of mud, making a quick exit off of roofs in the middle of thunderstorms, worshipping in a tent with 200 other believers being lead by a man with an acoustic guitar and a heart for God - perhaps accompanied by a dude on the bongos - debrief meetings filled with group and individual highs and lows, and finally falling asleep, curled up in a sleeping bag, with notes from a friends guitar drifting through the air as the guys squeeze in a last song on the porch across the way before being ushered to bed themselves by John Linville playing taps on his bugle. (and of course a cabin corner smelling strongly of Febreze...after last year's incident, you really expect me to not bring any?)





July 2010, I wake up at 5:00 along with my dad and brother. I drive separately with my little sister in our Carola's back seat, following my dad and brother (in our van), into the PCM parking lot. A few minutes later, Oli rushed for the back seat of another van with the rest of his friends and passengers. I ran after him, shocked that he didn't say goodbye. His van left early, and the rest of us cirlced up for a quick prayer for our team's travels.


"Amen."


Everyone rushed to their assigned cars. I rushed after my dad, yelling the same things I did at Oliver. "Aren't you going to say goodbye?" They all must've been to caught up and excited... I got a hug and kiss from my daddy, then he ran to the van. In less than a minute the Fairmont caravan was loaded up and peeling out of the parking lot.


I stood there a moment later with two other families who had seen their kids off. Two of these people were friends of mine who had gone previous years and stayed behind this time.





"So this is what everyone does once we've left the lot..." I murmured. They all chuckled in response. We all lingered a few more minutes, but soon I had to leave. School, the reason I wasn't en route to West Virginia that very moment, was waiting. It finally set in. I wasn't going to fairmont this year. At least I have Bella - who didn't get back from Costa Rica until Sunday early a.m. - and Louise.





Some how, I will cope this week. Though my body remains here, in the state of Connecticut, my mind will be wandering the mountains and valleys of WVa. with my team, my friends...my family. Part of me...isn't here, but it gets back Saturday...


So, I'm not going this year. But there is a reason. God has a plan, and a purpose. Always. I believe this week He is going to use me for something here, at home. I believe this week He will do great thing, accomplish much, and bring glory to His name in Fairmont, through the servants He chose to send on this mission.

But from where I'm standing, I'll be counting down the days till Fairmont...2011. (That's right baby ;) There is NO WAY I'm putting myself through this misery next year...God willing.)

The Adventures of Emikel and J-ro (and Oli)

Circa. Sept. 28, '09

Cape Cod! Many memories here. On our most recent Fall retreat with SNAC someone remarked to me that any pictures I take with my brother are mostly awkward looking. So what did we do? We deliberately made an awkward pose.

And of course Bella jumped in. Why not? So this is our awkward family portrait...just one of many :)

fun&games

Monday night a group of the coolest people I know gathered at the Goodale homestead to play a mysterious game. A while ago Harrison told us all of this magnificent game called: Quelf.

When I asked him what it was like he answered "It's kinda like The Game of 1,000 Cards...only different." Ok....that clears things up ???? Later we all got the notice that he had ordered the game and it had come in and we were all to gather and play, so we did.

LOOK! here are some of those cool people now!

And let me tell you... it. was. RIDICULOUS!!!!! Yeah. Pretty much the best game I've ever played. We laughed and laughed and did fantastically absurd 'stunts' including playing hide and seek, dancing and singing like a mournful weeping willow tree, licking someones elbows(if you could not lick your own) and awarding meaningless points to everyone after their turns.

After yelling and signing "QUELF IN THE LAND OF THE FARM!" a gazillion and three times we finished the game and headed outside. I played hairdresser and there was bubble blowing and and picture taking and such.

Then we ordered pizza and took a trip through the scarily skinny back roads of Coventry to find Papa T's pizza. Good pizza, good friends, good game, great night.

Easter Linebacker

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgNZ7RmNBX8

Story Time

As of last week my class and I have graduated from Freshman to Sophomores. We now have 450 hours give or take and are on a rotating schedule for clients. A few things have changed: new teacher, new time frames, etc. but we still have classes with Carmelo on some mornings.

Every time we have a Carmelo Cutting Class we always end up hearing some sort of story. This morning was no different. We heard about how he started cutting hair in a shop his father had bought him in Argentina when he was around 14 years old. How he went to school and eventually started competing.(Apparently he lost his first competition then won every single one he entered after that, and by "won", I mean came in 1st.) This eventually took us to him opening his first shop here in America down on Franklin Ave. in Hartford. We even got to hear about accidental dealing with mob members....

When he was finished( "OK, can we talk about this hair cut now?" he says) One girl raises her eyebrows and said, "Was that story for real?". Both the teacher and a student reply that the story was way to intricate to have been made up on the spot.

It's interesting the things one can learn at hair school.

"the algebra had a devil for a sidekick eeeeeeeeee..." Wait...what did you say?

While I was doing hair on Sunday - for my very first paying client ;), we kinda make it a "party" - there was a discussion on misunderstandings.

Have you ever been in the car with someone, both singing along with the song flowing through the speakers, when you sing one thing and they sing another? You both look at each other and maybe an eyebrow is raised and confused looks are shared.

"What did you say?" they ask. "You've stolen my horse." you reply, "Why? what did you say?" "You're rollin' the course...." they say. *silent pause* You both laugh and continue singing. Eventually one of you looks up the real lyrics and another good laugh is shared over how very wrong you both were.

Well, we were all curious about misunderstood lyrics and actually found a good web site - http://www.kistthisguy.com - with maybe the top 20+ misunderstood lyrics, along with what they're supposed to be. Caveat: this is a slightly sketchy sight, hilarious yes, but a little sketch. but I think you'll enjoy what you find. Some of my top favorites were:

Bohemian Rhapsody:

The algebra has a devil for a sidekick eeeeeeeeee....

Real Lyric
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me...

Losing My Religion - REM

Let's pee in the corner, Let's pee in the spotlight.

Real Lyric
That's me in the corner, That's me in the spotlight.

To late to apologize - one republic

It's too late to order fries

Real Lyric

It's too late to 'pologize

Summersong - The Decemberists

My girl, linen and curls, lips all parted like a fraggle unfurled.

Real Lyric
My girl, linen and curls, lips parting like a flag all unfurled

Dancing Queen - ABBA

See that girl, watch her scream, kicking the dancing queen
Real Lyric
See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen

Oh Canada - the national anthem

Oh Canada, we stand on cars and freeze...
Real Lyric
Oh Canada, we stand on guard for thee...

anyways, these were just a few that gave us all a good chuckle. :D