Day 23: A website

   Improv Everywhere. Man oh mannn do they define crazy hilariousss spontaneity! (;

If I lived in New York City, I would SO join!

Day 22: A recipe

What I make every Thanksgiving! (:

1 egg

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 tsp. Cinnamon

1/2 stick melted butter
 

~Mix it all until smooth with mixer and put in a casserole dish.~

1 stick melted butter

1 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup chopped pecans

1 cup crushed Ritz crackers

~Spread on top of casserole and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.~

Day 21: A memory from your childhood

   Fishing.
I remember fishing.

It's been years since I've fished,
but the memories of fishing away my childhood summers
are forever ingrained on my heart,
in my soul.

I was an amazing fishergirl, everyone said so.
And not just to be polite, either.
At Mountain Home Cottages, I always caught the biggest trout and perch
and impressed everyone
with my epic fishing skills...

I only did catch-and-release fishing,
I couldn't bear
to watch them suffer.
Fishing was a sport, not a matter of survival
for me,
so it was only fair
that they could swim
free again.

Day 20: A movie no one would expect you to love

   At first I wasn't even sure if I wanted to watch the movie. It looked...well, unexciting, kind of like a documentary, and besides I was tired. But because it had been recommended by family friends, I decided to give it a try. I really had no idea that it would become my second favorite movie EVER.

   Temple Grandin was an amazing movie that had me absolutely riveted from the opening credits. It follows the life of Temple Grandin (surprise, surprise!), an autistic girl on her way to college. The challenges she faces are insurmountable, but her determination is incredible!

   I don't think I've ever equally laughed and cried so hard in one movie (maybe I was just emotional...from being tired...haha) but I would go from laughing hysterically to sobbing uncontrollably from one scene to the next. <--Not like me. At all. So the movie definitely had a noteworthy effect on me. ;)

   Temple's love for cows, her desire to help them have a comfortable life even in a slaughterhouse, her admiration for her science teacher, the one person who truly understands her...the cruelty of her peers, the ranch hands, and most of her professors...the unlikely friendship she forms with her blind roommate...all these elements make you truly feel like you're right there in the middle of her life, experiencing it with her.

   And the most amazing thing of all?! It's a true story!

  The actress who played her was so genuinely fantastic you never thought for a moment that she wasn't Temple Grandin.

   I went to bed wishing I was autistic...that's the impression it made on me!

Day 19: A talent of yours

   This is soooo awkward. I have a little confession to make...I have NO talents.

   I love running and soccer, but am nothing exceptional. I play the piano, but am definitely not a prodigy. I sing at the top of my lungs, but everyone always covers their ears. My artsy attempts always turn out to be more mess than masterpiece.

   Well, phew glad I got that all out in the open! Now I can end the post in peace and move on with my life.

   So I finished writing those lines, and was about to click 'save' when I decided to give myself a second chance, just to be, you know, fair.

   I conveniently and somewhat casually asked several friends in the past week what they liked best about me, and almost all of them didn't say something like, "Oh, you're so nice!" <--I am relieved. Because that's a very generic answer which I hate to hear.

I felt the need to add a random photo of me eating a hotdog. Just because I can! (;

   Basically, everyone said the same thing--as quoted word for word--

   "Andrea, you're so hilarious!"
    "Okay, you are seriously funny. Not even gonna lie."
"You always make me laugh!"
   "It's impossible not to smile when I'm with you."

   Besides feeling a little better about myself, I realized I do have a talent after all! It never occurred to me that making people laugh could be considered an art or skill, but hey...sure. :P

   The thing is, I never even try. I always wanted people to take me seriously! I am, after all, the supposedly "mature, oldest child"--not the family ham! But then one day I realized that laughing and making other people laugh was just what I do best, take it or leave it.

   Of course, sometimes it is a little embarrassing, being the type of person who randomly blurts out absurd things. Sometimes, I'll get so lost in my imagination that I'll start talking to myself or just sporadically laughing under my breath and people standing nearby will start to stare...

   Except for the utter humiliation I occasionally drag myself into, I wouldn't change my rather odd personality for anything. Because...I love being different! :)

Day 18: A time when you felt passionate and alive

   Two times I remember vividly, both while I was in Germany.

   The first was in the middle of a soocer game--while I was on the sidelines. Whaaaattt? Yes. Well, let me back you up a bit.

   I started soccer when we first moved to Germany, barely eleven years old and knowing absolutely NOTHING about the sport, other than there was a ball you kicked in a goal. I'd spent most of my life playing summer league baseball, but in Germany there was no other sport above soccer. To even suggest liking anything else, was--well--heresy! ;)

   I joined the base team, for the military kids who played against all the local German teams. One season I was the only American girl, teaming up boys and girls my age from Canada, Italy, Norway, Iceland, Holland, Greece, Wales, England, and another country that I couldn't pronounce, and therefore can't remember. ;)

   My first practice the coach, a young British-Belgian woman with a fantastic accent, just threw me out on the field with a soccer ball and told me to play midfield. I didn't even know what that meant! Or any good kicking techniques, for that matter. I was at a loss, and basically picked up rules and tips from my teammates as I went along, never once getting an official "lesson". By my third year and sixth season, I was a fairly good player, but almost entirely self-taught.


I'm the girl in blue! The boy in blue is my friend Jonathan, who played all three years with me.

   We were your typical feel-good movie underdogs...minus that glorious one-time-in-a-million championship victory. For the Germans, soccer is not merely a sport, but a religion. The children are practically raised on the field, kicking the ball before they can even walk. ;) We lost nearly every match, although there were two instances where we ended in a tie and a barely win of 2-1. Those games aside, we knew winning was something we could only have "back in America" and therefore played for fun more than anything else.

   This particular day, we were having an especially good game. The score was 1-3 at the time (so, see? we were only losing by two points today!) and everyone was in high spirits. I had just spent the last twelve-or-so minutes on defense, pumping up and down the field keeping the ball as far away from the goal as possible--or trying anyways. The coach rotated some of us out, and I sank into the lucious green grass, panting and feeling quite awashed with exuberant endorphins.

   I squeezed my eyes shut and listened to all the sounds--the other coaches yelling in German, our players shouting to each other in seven different languages, the fans going ballistic as fans will...

   And then I opened my eyes and stared right up into the trees on the other side of the field, which were tilting ever-so-gently with the slight but cool autumn breeze and it almost was if...I could feel...

   ...the earth moving.

   I sat upright and rubbed my eyes, feeling kind of dizzy. Well, that was weird, I thought, laying back down, blocking out everything but the sky and the wind and the trees. And then I felt it again! The earth was moving--always turning in the great expanse of the universe, but now it was if I could really FEEL it! That was undoubtedly the greatest sensation of my life.



   The second time I felt passionate and alive was in 2008, our last year in Germany, on a frosty February day. Mom gave Richmond and I the morning off of school and armed with heavy coats, boots, and a camera, we set out across our village to take a million pictures of the snow--the way it looked on the fences, sidewalks, meadows, and treetops.

   We had several favorite locations we loved to visit, namely a special hill--the highest point in our village--that we dubbed "The Top of the World". Because to a thirteen and eleven-year-old, it did seem to overlook everything for miles and miles. We made the long, harrowing walk to the top and then stopped to take "jumping pictures" with the beautiful scenery in the background.

   And so there, for a millisecond suspended between sky and earth, I felt unbelievably, breathtakingly weightless. Timeless. Limitless.

   Almost like I could fly--like the potential was stored up inside me, and I just had to find that one pefect moment to unlock it.

Day 17: A favorite book

   Too many to list? Maybe.

   I'll just name one, then. One that changed me in a very small, yet significant way.

   The Martyr's Song, by Ted Dekker.

   Go read.

Day 16: A vacation you would like to take

   I'll be short and sweet...South Dakota.

   Picture this. (I'd have you close your eyes but then you wouldn't be able to read what you need to be mentally envisioning.) Anyways: a rustic cabin nestled deep in the Ponderosa pines of the Black Hills.

   Fresh mountain air. Wild turkeys. Mountain goats. Stunning forests. Jaw-dropping picturesque valleys and the lush countryside. Snow, maybe? And Mount Rushmore.

   Stuff I've only read about in books, someday I want to be right in the midst of! Someday...

   Hearing about South Dakota always stirs a little bit of longing up in me for the cold, untamed Northern yonder.

   I could truly go on and on, you know. I have before, but I promise I'll stop talking already!

   I just really want to go camping in the Black Hills someday and photograph the wild and noble mountain goats. There you have it. :)

Day 15: A person you admire

   I gave this one a lot of thought. (Which is another way of saying...yes, I'm behind on my blogging!) Somehow it seems this thirty day challenge is taking me closer to thirty years. But whatever...I'll finish it eventually!

   Anyways, there are a lot of people I admire, but one that sticks out is someone that even a year ago, I never would have considered for a post like this. But things have changed, and I can safely say I do hold a deep admiration and respect for my little sister, Hannah Grace.

   Of my six younger siblings, five of them are brothers. Now don't get me wrong, I love them to death--craziness and all--but there's something special about a sister. Especially mine. :)

   After Richmond and Greyson were born, I was determined that the next Lee baby should be a girl. It seemed like all my friends had sisters, except for me. I was stuck with Hooligan 1 and Hooligan 2. ;) Finally, finally when I was seven years old, Hannah was born!

   At the time, I thought that was seriously the best day of my life. When Dad called home from the hospital and said Lee Baby #4 was a girl, I went ballistic--cartwheels, flipping upside down on the couch, climbing on the kitchen table--the whole bit!

   I envisioned tea parties, dress-up, warrior princesses (my current favorite game), playing dolls...everything I wasn't doing with two little brothers. The seven year age gap, however, soon proved to be a major setback for a close relationship.

   I ended up still running around outside with my brothers chasing each other with baseball bats, climbing trees, and digging in the dirt--while she soaked up everyone's attention. I'm not gonna lie, there was a time where I was jealous of her.

   She was pretty. Everyone loved her. She looked like a perfect blonde angel, while I was just this unkempt, mismatched, clumsy, shy bookworm with glasses.

   As we got older, I began to realize how exactly opposite two sisters can be!  She could play the piano by ear, while I stumbled through lessons reading notes for years. She was an excellent artist, while I just made messes that few appreciated. She loved cats, I was a dog person. She amazed everyone with her grace at ballet--I was awkward and could never master the fifth position. She had the "voice of an angel", whereas when I sang, everyone discreetly slipped out of the room. She always loved baseball and volleyball, the two sports I could never get into, while I enjoyed soccer, basketball, and running. She never had any trouble talking to people, while I spent most of my life hiding behind the sofa, in bathroom stalls, or with a bag over my head just to avoid talking to people.

   Andddd...I think you get the picture. Having a sister wasn't all it cracked up to be.

   Then, if it couldn't get any worse, she started copying everything I did, in my mind taking away the few things that I considered solely me.

  When I announced that I wanted to be a goat farmer when I grew up, she said she wanted to be one too. Every time I played street basketball or flag football with the neighbor kids, she wanted to be right out there with me. I decided I wanted a horse-themed bedroom, suddenly so did she. I hated the color pink, she made up her mind to loathe it as well. When brownies dipped in marinara sauce was my favorite food combination, it was hers too. And the one time I ever painted anything that looked remotely life-like and beautiful even, she went directly after and drew a similar picture and hung it on the wall.

   I was annoyed, to say the least. But eventually, I came to see it as a sort of compliment. She was imitating me because she looked up to me because she loved me.

   Now, of course, we still don't always see eye-to-eye on everything, but that's okay. After all, we're pretty different, as far as sisters go. Nonetheless, I now admire her as much as she admires me! Now we're seventeen and ten, respectively, and can do more stuff together.

   She's patient with me when I attempt to French braid her hair (never quite figured it out...), leave my clothes all over her floor, and sing loudly while she's forced to listen. Muahahahaha. ;) And together, we can totally hold out own against the five boys!

   She's sweet, cheerful, graceful, beautiful, compassionate, artistic, and in love with Jesus. :) And you know what?...she's a pretty awesome little sister!

Day 14: A song that makes you cry

   Well, this one was certainly a no-brainer! Music tends to have a huge effect on my emotions--it makes me laugh, gives me goosebumps, makes me want to dance, or even better, fly, and sometimes...it makes me cry.

   Probably one memory I have of a song that not only made me cry the first time I heard it, but almost every instance after, is the song Held, by Natalie Grant. (I really despise the music video--kind of not what I was expecting, but oh well.)

   The first time I heard the song was back in 2009, the day after my grandma's puppy--whom I had invested a lot of my life into (I took her for walks, helped potty-train her, went on wild romps across the property with her, and even slept with her at night)--was hit by a car and died.

 
   I know the world is full of tragedy and something like a puppy's death seems super insignificant, but it wasn't to me.

   I was heartbroken, and when they finally broke the news to me I ran off, dizzy and sick, and then cried for the rest of the day--I wasn't sure I could even cry that much.

The only photo I can find of Molly is this one, with my little cousin

   It didn't seem fair! Molly was an adorable puppy--bouncy, exuberant, full-of-life, and she had the best sense of humor! I love all dogs, but I bonded so well with Molly I felt sure she was really mine.

   The next day, I was sitting at the table doing my school while most of the family was out (I still felt too numb and depressed to go anywhere) when I heard the song for the first time, playing in the other room.

     Instantly, I just started sobbing all over again--tears running down my cheeks, spilling on my math book, dripping to floor. She was such a sweet puppy and she never even got a chance at life! It wasn't fair!

 
   And then the part of the song played:

If hope if born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our Savior...

   
   Suddenly, it was somewhat okay. Yes, I was still hurting, but I felt very peaceful. 

   Jesus knew.

   Since then, I've lost many more loved ones--both pets and people--and life certainly hasn't gotten any easier. But the song brings me comfort, knowing that no matter what I'm going through, Jesus is holding me the whole time. :)

   The song still makes me cry every time I hear it though, but the tears aren't so much of sadness, although they still can be at times, but of hope.

"Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hand..."--Isaiah 49:16

Day 13: A song that you want played at your wedding

   Well, this is something I certainly haven't ever given much thought! Really...I don't have an answer, at least not a good one, or a definite one either for that matter.

   Which might have something to do with the fact that I'm not getting married anytime in the near future?

   Or ever. Possibly.

   At any rate, I have to write something, so I'll just throw out the Pride and Prejudice movie soundtrack (has lots of pretty ones on it!) The newer film, that is--even though I preferred the BBC version better.

   So there you have it. I guess my favorites are this one. And this. And also I'm quite partial to that. And can't forget das (I can play it on the piano!)

Day 12: A guilty pleasure

     I'm not gonna lie: junk food is my biggest weakness. I'm kind of a hugeee fan of anything that tastes like pure joy! Which is really bad...I know.

     Therefore, my guilty pleasure.

   Fortunately, our pantry is mostly stocked with couscous and canned green beans, not potato chips and oreos (awwwwww!) so I find junk food to be a major treat.

    I especially looooovvveee...skittles, oreos, jellybeans, PIZZA, gummy worms, Pringles, carnival food (funnel cake, cotton candy, popcorn!), red Twizzlers, brownies, snickers, hotdogs, sour candy of all kinds, and DIP!! <--Dip makes me happy. :)

   So now you know. :) But I'm not actually a picky eater, so I also love fruits and vegetable and healthy things, too. I just happen to have an extreme affinity for sweet, sour, and salty.

   Sometimes all at the same time. (;

Day 11: A photo you took

Sorry, but I rarely follow the instructions on this. ;) Make that photos.

 

Our street sign. Kind of sounds like "horse breath" if you say it ten times fast. :)

"Footprints in the Sand"

Didn't turn out quite the way I wanted it to, but you get the idea.

This is actually a collection of a bunch of sign pictures I took on a road trip to Oklahoma which I made into a collage of sorts.

Baby Ben and his snowcone. <3

Another one of Benjamin. He's sooo cute (in my big sisterly biased opinion).

Watermelon in the grass. Thought it looked kind of artsy in a summer picnic kind of way :)

Anyways, those are just a few I could find at the moment. I really love photography, but don't think I'll go into it professionally (kind of an over-saturated market, sadly...)

Day 10: A photo of you taken recently

   I feel like I should write something underneath the picture, but I don't know what to say. 

   For once in my life. :)

Day 9: A photo of you taken over ten years ago

So this is me, in Mississippi. :) I guess I'm two in this picture (can't really tell for sure, since the back date was sort of smudged).

This is also me! (; Age four, at our first home in San Antonio. Dressed all fancy for church. :D

Day 8: A thank-you letter to someone who changed your life

Dear Sarah Palin,

You have no idea who I am. You probably never will. But...you have incredibly influenced my opinion of politics. Basically, pre-2008 I had no interest in our government or its functions. I thought it was all for stuffy old men with only two things in mind: power and money. 

You taught me otherwise.

Before those fateful elections, I didn't have a role model. Someone I looked up to. A favorite celebrity. A hero. Now I do. :)

I don't care how much the liberal media hates you. 

I don't care how much those ultra-modern big city bloggers hate you. 

I don't care how much my father's family hates you. 

...because I. LOVE. YOU. 

You took a stand for life. You shouted out against big government. You cared about morally relevant issues. You remained resilient despite the haters. You're a hardcore country girl. 

You inspire me.

I remember the first time someone told me that I looked like you. It was the proudest moment of my life. :D I vowed never to take off my glasses again!

I probably will never run for President.
(Although I'm not entirely ruling it out as an option!)
Either way, I want to be 

just like you 

when I grow up. <3

Thank you, thank you, a million times thanks!

Your biggest fan from Helotes, Texas,

Andrea Micole :)

Day 7: An art piece

   Does toilet paper count as art?! Well, it should...since pretty much anything in this day and age qualifies as an art-form. And beauty is in the eye of the beholder...or...bewiper.

   

   But seriously...does anyone else not think it's kind of odd that they print all those pretty designs on what mostly goes completely unnoticed? Do the people at the toilet paper factory have too much time on their hands?

   

   Yet in a way, it's kind of cool. Almost pretty. Borderline insanely awesome. 

   So sometimes, when I have too much time on my hands, I color in the flowers and butterflies. ;)

Day 6: A moment you wish you could relive

One of many moments I wish I could relive!

My small seventeenth birthday party which included my family plus my three best friends.

Some of us jumping into the spring-fed pools of Landa Park...

Minus Danielle, who didn't want to; and my nose is plugged (the camera snapped a little late).

But still...almost perfect.

Day 5: A favorite quote

"Be who you are
and say what you feel
because those who mind don't matter
and those who matter
don't mind."
-- Dr. Seuss 

 

“For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his fingers through it once a day.
For poise, go with the knowledge you'll never walk alone." 

--Audrey Hepburn

Day 4: A scar you have and its story

I tried to photograph my most prominent scar, but it doesn't show up very well in photograph, which is possibly a good thing. Ask me to show it to you sometime in person, because I'm equally proud and ashamed of it, but I love a good story.

I found a picture of a sawhorse instead. :)

So once upon a time, after my first year of track (June 2010) I thought I was a rising-hurdle-star-in-the-making.

I had aspirations.

I was also fifteen, quite cocky, and unaware of the dangers of practicing my great hurdling skills over sawhorses on the pavement of our street.

The scar is three inches long and runs up the backside of my elbow from the spill I took when my foot caught the sawhorse wrong and I tumbled headfirst back to earth, skidding several feet down the street before I rolled to a painful stop, covered in asphalt and blood. I also have a smaller scar on my knee and hip from the same incident.

I didn't cry, but...

I never hurdled again.