Quarters for Smiles

I was the child every parent refers to, the one they look at and say "I hope my child doesnt do that." Let me change that - I am still that child. What in the world is she talking about, youre thinking. Well, do you remember those claw machines? With tons of stuffed animals in them? Some contain other cool things, like electronics or movies, to attract adults. I am the dreaded person who begs for quarters to play those games. And I am not satisfied until I win something. Actually, I refuse to walk away unless I have something in my hands to display my victory to those watching, because you KNOW people gather around to watch... it becomes a spectacle.

If you have never played one of these incredible games, which typically are scams, preying on the innocence of young children - and me - who desire to have a cuddley creature to take home... let me paint you a picture so you can understand the process:

50 cents. "Mommy! Theres a claw game! Can I please please have 2 quarters so I can play to win a really cute monkey?" (Typically the prizes are random.) "Ok." The 2 quarters are dropped in your little hands as you clasp them, a giant smile spreading across your face.
Then you run over to the claw game, proudly displaying your 2 quarters for any other children around to see, because you got the quarters and they didnt. Then you gingerly put one in the slot, wait to hear the clink of it landing inside, then slide in the other one. The game lights up, the claw jerks to life, waiting for you to grab the throttle. Your little hands squeeze the throttle - its not about how tight you hold it, but something about making little fists makes you have more faith. You focus your eyes on that smiling monkey - waiting for you to save him from his cage, then to your hands around the throttle, then to the claw as you begin to move it.
You move the claw left, then forward, then a little more to the left, then backwards, then right, then forward, then left, making sure it is right over the monkey, who now seems to be mocking you with his smile. You quickly look down to see how much time you have left. There never seems to be enough time. With 3 seconds left, you push down on the button to release the claw. Because you dont think the claw knows what it is doing, you hold that button down until it reaches your monkey. The claw encapsulates around your monkey... You let your thumb off the button and watch helplessly, eager to see if the claw succeeded.
The claw closes, trapping your monkey within its metal bars. You smile, because you know you are taking that monkey to a good home. The claw begins to recoil, going upward. It drops your monkey because the grasp wasnt firm enough. You throw your head back and watch the claw return to its starting position, hoping that monkey might hop up to it to ride to the prize bin. But your monkey remains seated in the midst of all the other animals.
You hang your head and head back to your mom, monkeyless. Though she can tell what happen, she asks how it went. You respond, "Can I please have another 2 quarters Mommy?? I HAD it! I did! Ill get it this time! Please!" Seeing your disappointment and your refusal to give up, she digs in her change purse again and pulls out 2 more quarters. Before putting them in your little hands, she says, "This is the last time ok? This is it. I dont have any more to give you." You ferociously nod your head yes, but you dont hear what shes saying - you see those quarters and you are already planning your strategy to win that monkey. Besides, youre going to win this time. There wont be a next time.
As soon as those coins are dropped into your hands, you return to the claw.
If you dont know how the rest of the story goes, scroll up to the beginning of the simulation and read again. Do until exhausted... because that is when the child will finally give up.

I am 20 years old and I still go through this process whenever I go to Dennys. I cant imagine what would happen if I ever walked into a casino. This week, my family and I went to Fuddruckers. If you know what Fuddruckers is, you probably already know where this story is going. We ordered our food, found a table, and sat down. Instantly, I spotted a different variation of the claw game. Typically, I dont even go toward the games they have because I have gotten in trouble with them before. I know it is best to stay away. It takes a lot of self control, but I know it is in everyones best interest for me to stay away. This time, though, I thought I had it.

I walked over to check it out, figured it was something I could handle, and returned to the table for $2. Ya! $2! Steep, right?! Well this was one of those games that applied to the adults, containing iPads and iPod Touches. I have an iPod Touch. I dont really want an iPad, but I had to try. I mean... I had to. It taunted me. So my sister walked over to the machine with me, for emotional support. The first time I didnt know what I was doing and completely botched it. The second time, I was millimeters off... No kidding. Being THAT close, I had to try again. I scrounged up $2 at the table, special thanks to my family for supporting my obsession, and returned to the game. This time.... I HAD it! And I had witnesses. But the stupid directions werent clear enough. I even debated with the manager about it. I was standing my ground.

Long story just as long - I walked away empty-handed, defeated by the claw (or in this case, scissors). Every time I walk away from those things, whether I have a prize to show off or I have lighter pockets, I get frustrated. Its an absolute scam. No doubt about it. The companies who make these machines rig them to drop the toys or to run out of time. Everyone knows that, including me. Parents even tell their children that the odds are against them. Do you think that affects their desire to win?? Nope! Does it affect my desire to play those things and win something?... at 20 years old?? Nope! Recently, a friend told me he once won THREE stuffed animals from one of those things in one sitting. THREE! Are you kidding?? Thats impossible. Literally - it doesnt happen. I was so jealous. Heck, I am super jealous. Thats just not fair!

Anyways. Those games do 3 things. They feed on the desires of innocent young children - and me. They prey on children - and me - by dangling the things children - and me - cant resist in front of them. And finally, they scam children and their parents. Parents have to allow their children to try at least once. It is up to them if they are going to keep providing a way to play. But if 50 parents allow their child to play and give him 50 cents, thats $25! Shoot my mom still has a hard time saying no. Im pathetic. And I know it.

Its infuriating that people get pleasure - and money - from preying on innocent children. And yet, I am one of the ones supplying them with the chairs they are sitting in while they decide which cheap stuffed animals to fill the claw machine with. Dont get me wrong, I have conquered the claw machine a few times. Some of the happiest moments I have are when I walked away from the claw with a victorious symbol. Though those times are few, they surpass the memories of losing. Conquering the claw machine is one of the greatest accomplishments. I mean, you beat the system. You put in 2 quarters and walked away with a prize and the attitude of a winner, worth much more than 2 quarters.

Nameless

I now have 5 followers! I don't know if they all read my blog, but at least they've been documented!

- And now for the real post -

Today was an interesting day. It proved to be one of "expect the unexpected" ... or rather "not expecting the unexpected." I had a plan for the day. Class. Class. Bank. Starbucks. Homework. Not very exciting, I know, but such is life. Class - check. Class - check. Bank - well, heres where the story begins.

On my way to the bank, traveling down Magnolia, I noticed a fairly young looking German Shepherd weaving in and out of the street, in front of cars. I think everyones response to this is "Oh puppy! Get off the street!" Then a thought process of should I stop? What would I do with her? Well, as these thoughts went through my head - all remaining unanswered, I pulled up to a light to turn left in attempts of catching her, just as she skipped by my car. She was scared and obviously confused - I couldnt leave her. I threw my car into park and got out of my car to call her, just as she stopped in front of a long line of cars. Luckily, she came to me and decided a ride with me wouldnt be too terrible. No collar, no visible identification... faaaantastic.

I called my mom, declaring I had a crisis on my hands. I dont think there was any surprise in her voice when she found out my crisis involved picking up a stray dog and needing a place to take her. So I drove to an animal shelter I remember passing one time. It was a nice, newer facility. I, literally, ran in, asking for a leash, then ran back to her... My last desire was to be that person who leaves their dog in their car. When I came back, she was sitting in my front seat... something I know I will see often in my life - a dog riding with me in my front seat.

Luckily, again, she let me put a leash on her. I took her in and held her while we waited to be called. Poor girl, she was so scared, but she was very sweet. At one point, an animal control-er noted she was animal aggressive when she barked at two Pitbulls outside. She hadnt made a peep when we first walked in to see a chocolate Lab... But now she was labeled "dog aggressive." I felt for her. Im sure she wasnt. But she couldnt tell him if she had canine friends back at home or if she frequents the dog park. And I was just a girl who found a dog, so my opinion wasnt valid. I told her Ive been called things Im not, too. I think we connected.

Once I was called, I only gave the woman my id, told her where I found her, and then I was done. She told the animal control-er he could take her and I instantly felt my eyes blink back tears. What the heck??? Ive been with this dog for an hour. Right?? I asked what happens with her... Yes, my curious mind never lets me walk away without being answered. She told me her owners had 7 days to pick her up, but then she would be theirs, and since she was labeled animal aggressive, they wouldnt be able to adopt her out. My heart sank. I looked at her, sitting next to me, still scared. Did I just deliver her to her doom?

She gave me a number to call to ask about her, but at that moment I wished I had never brought her. Fighting back tears, a helped the control-er put another leash on her, took off the one I had borrowed, and told her goodbye.

As soon as Id left, my strength was gone. I started crying, thinking about how scared she was, how she might not get a chance to be reunited with her family - or find a home - all because that stupid man had pinpointed her as animal aggressive. I got in my car and began to drive away, struggling with whether I had done the right thing. When the "right thing" may lead to a loss of life, how can that it be right thing?

My mom assured me owners usually call the local shelter if driving around is a bust. I tried to reassure myself that she looked as if she had been well taken care of, not malnourished at all. Hopefully owners who care that much about their dog will want to find them. But I was still upset. I mean, I just spent an hour with this dog, allowing her to trust me, allowing her to become dependent on me... then I leave her.

And, of course, the question of why in the world am I becoming a vet pops into my brain. If I cant be objective in a situation like that, am I in any condition to perform surgery, put a dog down? I began to reevaluate my life goal. Obviously, Im still evaluating. And Im trying to figure out why I was put in that situation. I believe those are delivered to us for a reason. But Im having a hard time finding the reason. Is this telling me I am striving towards the wrong dream? Is this just a preparatory situation? Why cant God hand out scripts for these things - explaining how were supposed to respond, why its happening, etc..??

I titled this blog Nameless. Honestly, I was at a loss for how to label this situation. This dog had a name, Im sure, but I didnt know it. Secretly, I named her. Of course, I didnt call her it - I know youre never supposed to give a name... But, of course... I did. Because even though I didnt know her name, she was never Nameless.

Convicting Love

Well this ends the fourth week of school for me. This week was pretty crazy - filled with studying, papers, busy-work assignments, more studying, tests, lab reports, errands, and if I havent mentioned studying, well, that too. Not to mention the regular feeling like Im doing the wrong thing with my life and struggling with whether my classes and my occupation are right for me. Ive been wanting to blog, but I dont have any stories really to share, I dont feel like pouring out my heart, and I dont have a lot of inspiration on a subject of what to write. I have realized a large portion of my posts being with an unloading of school... Hum. Thanks for bearing through that with me - time after time.

February. Wow January is already over. And January is a fairly long month, with the full 31 allotted days a month is able to have. And now weve moved on to February. February is probably my least favorite month. For the obvious reason.

Now Ive been thinking about a possibility of writing about February: the Love Month for a while now. Long behold, my sister actually wrote about it. For those of you who read my blog, you probably read my sisters. So you have probably seen her blog about February, where she lists several things she loves. I was planning to take quite the opposite road than her... which is not uncommon with us. Jordannas lease on life is refreshing. Honestly. Both my mom and I think the same - its another day full of working/school, then coming home to clean/do homework then go to bed. Then wake up and start all over. My sister has the same type of schedule - wake up, feed and walk her pups, go to work, come home from work, feed and walk the pups, dinner, bed. However, she looks at each day as if it is different from the one before. Take any situation involving a frustration and, sure, my sister will be frustrated, but she will find something to be thankful for in the meantime. There is no other explanation for her view of life than refreshing.

Well this blog was no different. Regarding the month of February, (if you havent read it) she figured she should list a few things she loves: mornings, morning showers, breakfast, etc. Truly, she loves those things. They excite her. They bring her sincere joy. But I couldnt help but chuckle to myself. I hate mornings. I hate the sound of my alarm and I hate getting out of bed. I barely eat breakfast while Im at school because I stay in bed til the last minute... then am rushing to get out the door.

Anyways, before reading my sisters blog, I was planning to write about how I dont love February. I know Im in a different stage than my sister... Im not married - not even close. I bet if I was in some type of a relationship, my opinions on the subject would be a lot different. But, that is not the case. Ive been receiving emails from Godiva (chocolate) about "getting my special someone what they love (aka chocolate)." [They send me stuff cuz Im signed up with them.] But I would end up buying all that stuff for me. So you get where Im going with this. Lucky for me, my apartment is pretty anti-love. We talk about it. It helps with being anti-February. And then I hear a song like this:

You're nobody 'til somebody loves you
You're nobody 'til somebody cares.
You may be king, you may possess the world and it's gold,
But gold won't bring you happiness when you're growing old.
The world still is the same, you never change it,
As sure as the stars shine above;
You're nobody 'til somebody loves you,
So find yourself somebody to love.
The world still is the same, you never change it,
As sure as the stars shine above;
You're nobody 'til somebody loves you,
So find yourself somebody, find yourself somebody,
Find yourself somebody to love.

And I felt so much better.... right.... WORST SONG EVER. Although, I do have people who love me... just not the type of person they discuss in this song...

So I was going to focus on February as Black History Month. (And just as I type that, an Usher song came on...)

I think Black History Month gets overlooked... although, honestly, if they wanted the attention, youd think they would change it to a different month... Anyways. I was planning to celebrate February as Black History Month, rather than the Love month. (Lets face it, the Love month is so fun when youre ordering for one.) However, all of these thoughts were prior to reading my sisters blog. Well really, these thoughts were prior to yesterday, when I was thinking about them in connection with my sisters blog.

The two of us are completely different - this is the perfect explanation of how. But I decided rather than becoming a love hater (oxymoron!) I would try it her way. I was convicted of putting the word hate on things that really are a blessing. For example - mornings. Ok, I still dont love mornings. But I love having coffee in the mornings to wake me up, or just for a yummy taste. Without getting up, I wouldnt get my coffee. So mornings may not be my favorite thing, but they have perks. Im trying to catch myself before I look at something negatively and become a sourpuss. Im trying it the Jordanna way. Its not easy though. I give my sister props.

But ultimately, I am so incredibly blessed. I have been given so much that I dont deserve. And every time I say, "I hate _____" or just am negative, I am taking that thing for granted. Well see if this will last or if it will even work. But I am blessed. And I should be more thankful for that.

I do love flowers, though. And flowers signify love. Which is the sole purpose of February.... Maybe February isnt completely bad. ;)

New Adventures Yield Unexpected Memories

I love spending time with my mom. I love doing things with her. One of the reasons I love to be with her is because we are so alike and we think very similarly. We have common, if not identical, opinions and beliefs. We understand each other in a way nobody really can. (Even my sister thinks were insane sometimes. ;) Love ya Sis!)

Today, we embarked on a new adventure. I found a small bakery in Encinitas while searching for something else online. This place had great reviews and looked pretty cute in its few pictures. So my mom, being the good sport she is, suggested we try it out. Today was our last chance to go, so off we went - dressed casually - for a delicious brunch and a new adventure.

While driving, looking for the bakery, we passed several people in exercise clothes, jogging along the road. We both chuckled to ourselves, knowing if we lived at the beach, our time would be spent under the sun, parked on the sand, not necessarily going for a run. We parked and walked around the corner to the bakery. We connected while sharing our anxiety of walking near a busy street. (I actually have gotten teased by friends for this before... it felt good to know I wasnt alone.) Then we arrived at the bakery.

Well, it ended up being a lot different that we had anticipated. The food really was good! But the actual place was not what I was expecting. First of all, the place was small, and packed with Encinitans craving a yummy breakfast. We lurked, along with others, for a table, ready to pounce when our moment came. Luckily, we found a small table for two in the corner. We ordered our food and sat down to wait. It was loud, extremely crowded, and - in a word - overwhelming. I pointed out that I was grateful for a corner table, since Im not a big crowd person and probably wouldnt be able to carry on a conversation because I would be so distracted by the people around me. I know some people thrive off of this atmosphere... My mom and I - not so much. So it worked! We finished our yummy meals, grabbed our coffees-to-go, and headed back to the car.

Before heading back home, we took a quick trip around the block, since, ya know, the beach was right there. I took a few pictures of some houses she loved and I would not protest to living in. Then we started back to good ole El Cajon.

We stopped at Marshalls and Target for some unexpected (though, some were expected) goodies. Encountered some interesting people who dont understand the concept of "youre not breathing air... youre breathing my hair..." [I know in some countries there is not an option of personal space; however Im pretty positive these people have lived in this country for a while, being given the privilege of a bubble.] My point being that the whole time, my mom and I were so on the same page.

Though the day didnt quite go how we had anticipated, we had a good time together. I doubt well remember what we ate, or even how to get to the place, but I think well remember the little spurts of random and connections we had. I am so grateful for having a mom who gets me. Who thinks like me. We supports me. Who encourages me. Who isnt afraid to speak up. Who will laugh with me. Who goes on adventures with me. Who humors me. Who wants to hang out with me. Whos honest with me. Who loves me.

[I would post some pictures to go along with this post... but my camera wont load on my computer... so I dont have any recent ones. Until I figure that out!...]

Real Celebrities are Heroes

Last night I realized something about myself.

I went to Ritas, a nearby Mexican restaurant last night with my friend, Katie. I immediately noticed a police car parked outside and figured we would encounter cops inside, since Ritas is a common hangout site for cops and fire fighters. Sure enough, across the room I spied two police officers sitting at a table, eating. One looked at me as I walked in and continued to watch me as I scanned the menu. I looked over at him and smiled - after all, we did make eye contact. He nodded and smiled back. I shyly looked back at the menu, like a child who just had a stranger say hi to them. I felt foolish, but this is where the realization kicked in. I tried not to keep looking over at them even though I was curious of what they had spread over the table. It was like I saw someone famous and I couldnt believe I was in the same area as them.

I look at police officers as if theyre celebrities. I put fire fighters and all the men and women fighting for our freedom on the same level.

I have instant respect for these people in uniform. I still get excited when I see a fire truck and just recently stopped waving at police cars (I feel it might be a little strange, seeing as Im 20 now). I am always in awe when I come across them. Im always dumb-founded, wanting to say something funny so they have a funny story to tell their buddies back at the precinct, or firehouse. Typically, with fire fighters, my conversation starter involves my aunt, who works at San Miguel fire station. (Usually the trucks/fighters I see have San Miguel all over them.) That always goes over real well. They ask who my aunt is - they always know her - and then theyll talk to me, since shes kinda important and I am her niece! I dont usually talk to police officers. I get nervous that if I say the wrong thing they could get suspicious of me. I highly doubt that would ever happen, but the power they hold makes me extra cautious. My uncle was a San Diego cop for years. I should be a pro at talking to those guys. But I always hesitate before saying something.

Anyways. As I was acting like a child, afraid to talk to a stranger, I realized I looked at them in the same way someone would look at a celebrity. However, why do we get so excited to see a celebrity - an actual "famous" person? What have they done, really? [Im grouping here, of course... I know the following allegations dont apply to every celebrity.] They provide entertainment, sure. Shoot, give me a mirror and I can entertain myself for hours. I dont get any money for it, though. They provide "role models" for kids to look up to. Although most of these people take advantage of the privileges they dont deserve. They behave in a manner they should be ashamed of and are definitely not the people I would want my child to look up to. They give to good causes. Well give me millions of dollars to spare and Ill start my own charity. But are they risking their own lives to save others? Are they protecting citizens at the expense of losing their friends or their own lives? Do they ever ask themselves 'will I go home tonight?'?

So really who are the real celebrities? Dont get me wrong, I realize that every time I turn on the tv, there is some famous person that is providing me entertainment. But why do we put them on such a pedistool? Shouldnt we look at the real heroes and put them on a pedistool? Maybe it sounds foolish to view them in such a way, but ultimately, they just dont get the credit they deserve. They deserve to have people come up, asking for autographs. They deserve to have people want to take pictures with them. They deserve it... And they do all they do without expecting any type of gratitude.

Hope for Humanity

For several weeks, I have been debating what to blog about. I know youre all just itching to hear about what is happening in my life... I know I am such an exciting person. But I try to have points to my posts. I know I typically dont have a point and I end up rambling - which could happen in this blog, too. I still dont have a system of what I want to talk about. I would upload some pictures, but my camera wont connect with my computer and upload my pictures for some reason. As soon as I get that figured out, maybe Ill have more of a story to tell. Pictures say 1000 words, but I can easily add an extra thousand actual words. =)

Well yesterday turned into much more of an adventure than I had planned. Yet, it provided a moment of gratitude, and hope, that humanity might not constantly turn on each other. Without going into explicit detail of what occurred, Ill provide a short version.
My mom and I had to travel to the post office to pick up a package... I know what youre thinking. The post office?? Two days after Christmas?? Youre insane! And maybe so, but I had to do what I had to do. So we forced our elbows out, ready to plow down whoever stood against us with a problem.

Although really, we didnt expect a problem. We knew, more than anything else, it would be time consuming. It would be a test of patience. It would determine whether we could handle the busy street of Fletcher Parkway afterward, packed with cars heading to the same place we were - wouldnt you know?! But a problem did occur. And not only that... it escalated.

It began when a woman entered the parking lot going the wrong direction. If you know the El Cajon post office, Im sure youre already rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh of "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?" (Even if youre not familiar with this particular parking lot, you understand the image and how irritating this is.) But it gets better. This woman began to back out, giving us all a little relief... only until we realized she was parked waiting for a spot from a leaving car... about to compete with the car directly in front of us - who was going the right way and following the rules. I know, I know. Well the dumb wrong woman won that battle. Obviously she was willing to fight a little harder.

Skipping some parts of the story, we were lucky to pull into a newly opened spot and walked into the post office, appalled at what we had just witnessed. Unfortunately the girl was two people in front of us, clutching her young son, looking around as if she was about to get jumped. You heard me, she knew she was in the wrong and she knew someone was gonna call her on it. I was proud that that person was my mom.

She looked directly at my mom, who took that moment to tell her that move was flat out rude. Not a microscale of remorse showed on that girls face as she began to argue with my mom claiming shed been waiting for 15 minutes and had no other choice but to enter the wrong way. My mom wasnt distraught or escalating, just putting her on notice that there are other people waiting, too. Not five seconds later, the woman who had been cut off, walks by and mentions how rude that was, then walks out of the building.

I had overheard a man saying he heard the wrong girl laugh when she got out of her car, as if to be proud of herself and stick it to the right car. All the while this girl was defending herself to my mom, he stood at the entrance, listening to what she was saying. Finally, he broke his silence. I wont give detail of what he said, but he put a cement foot down... hard to move.

[This story is turning longer than I had anticipated, but arent you captivated?!]

Needless to say, she ended up leaving, chasing the guy outside to have the final say. She never came back in and decided to do her business elsewhere. It was truly one of the most ridiculous things Ive ever seen - her not taking responsibility for being in the wrong, not apologizing, trying to justify her actions, arguing with someone who was older than her and therefore had more authority... It was terrible.

But the entire experience was exhillerating. It gave me hope. People, who were not directly involved in the situation, joined forces to stand against an injustice. I know its a simple situation, compared to the massive issues we face today, but its a symbol that people still recognize right and wrong. And that people arent afraid to stand up for someone. It was exciting. If people will stand together against something like this (which, honestly, it was extremely rude) then theres no doubt in my mind well be able to stand together in the future, against the tough stuff and the simple stuff that still needs to be brought to light.

I know we still need a lot of help.... but for now, Ill cling to that situation. Ill hold on to knowing that there still are people out there who will be honest and uphold what they know to be right. Cuz after all, where would we be if we all were constantly against each other? We all need somebody to lean on...

The Meaning of Flowers

I feel I often begin my blogs with apologizing for the lack of posts I provide my readers... this one shall be no different. I am sorry, to all my readers, for slacking on the blogging process. Ive so desperately been wanting to blog, to tell a funny story, to share about whats been happening. But I feel as if I have nothing of importance to relay to my audience. So I choose to not say anything. Besides the fact that school is taking over my life.
However, I feel I should break my silence with something to give you to read. The past few weeks have been incredibly insane. School, as I mentioned, is TAKING OVER MY LIFE. But the past week has been one of lessons for me. Mostly, they have been lessons of listening - listening to others around me and being silent, as sometimes a listening ear is all that is needed.
What is also interesting is that Philippians 2 has been brought to my attention several times this week. [This is related to the listening thing...] My wonderful sister blogged recently, and encountered herself in the same predicament Ive found myself in - not knowing what to write about. But instead of random ramblings, she chose to share the Word... something I wish I did more. What exactly did she share? Philippians 2... I know... I told you! Its been on my mind. And its convicting.
Philippians 2:1-4 says, "Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others."

This week I had several friends share struggles theyve been faced with in the recent times. One friend broke up with her boyfriend. This friend planned on marrying him... Amongst other hardships shes dealing with, shes one of the leads in the new play here. I decided I needed to be there for her - I needed to be there opening night to encourage her. She needed a smiling face, cuz lets be honest, those smiling faces sometimes help. I needed to look into her interests, rather than my own. (Im not saying Im a saving angel right now, just telling the story.) Before the show, I went to search for flowers for her. I figured it was a common gift for actors in plays. But more than that, I know how I feel when I receive flowers.

That is probably my most girly quality - I love being given flowers. I love roses. I love colorful arrangements. I just love flowers. And I realize how significant flowers can be, and how much they can say. Flowers appear at the most important events of our lives: weddings, births, illness, celebratory events, funerals... I believe flowers speak to people, they signify someone was thinking of you, someone wanted to make you smile. And flowers are beautiful! They are an amazing creation...
Anyways. I found a gorgeous, colorful arrangement and decided they were perfect for my beautiful friend. Monica and I went to the play, ready for anything. The play was great... But my friend was fantastic! She was incredible. And knowing the struggles behind the acting, I admired her for remembering every line, singing wonderfully, and just getting up there. I was so proud of her. After the show, we waited for our star to make her appearance in the lobby. She came out and made a beeline to us. I gave her the flowers and she grabbed me for a hug. She explained how her boyfriend would always get her flowers on opening night and she was dreading the end of the show because that wouldnt be there... But she didnt have to face it... And she was so grateful and she shed a few tears.
Im not a cryer, but I had a hard time staying strong with an encouraging smile on my face. I wanted to break down with her. But I knew it wouldnt help, so I held her and maintained my smile. It made me realize, even more, how much flowers can mean to people. Sure, they die. But even when theyre dead, they can be just as beautiful as when they are alive. Right now, we have two different dried bouquets of flowers hanging on the walls in our apartments (both were given to me). But its what they mean. And she could not have understood their meaning better.
I included a few pictures of some beautiful flowers that played a part in my life. One picture is of arrangements from my sisters wedding - symbolizing new beginnings and celebrations. Another picture is of an arrangement Monica gave me for my birthday, because she knows how much I love them. (This was obviously to celebrate one of the greatest births on the planet! ;)) And finally - a picture of the gorgeous flowers leading to my house, symbolizing my most favorite thing - home.