Busy Bee.

So, I am completely wrapped up in the hustle and bustle of school. Life has been crazy since day one, as if you couldn’t tell since I haven’t posted in over a month. Embarrassing, I know. I thought I’d be able to get at least one post in each week, but perhaps I thought very wrong. I just lost a half a page of an ‘Internship Journal Entry’ due to the fact that Microsoft Word stopped responding on me. So it looks like I’ll be rewriting that in the near future. Grrreeeattt.

I decided I needed a little breather, and what better way then to type up a much needed post! I’m currently over at the other campus, Greenspring. In fact, I just realized I’ve never written a post anywhere aside from the confines of my bedroom at home on my Macbook (that wouldn’t have stopped responding on me!) I’m bitter, I know.

Instead of ranting the whole time, I wanted to share some of my work. The first two weeks of school, I spent working on the design of my page that would be published bi-weekly in The Villager, Stevenson University’s school newspaper. I thought it turned out pretty well – took me forever to find a way to upload the file onto WordPress.

This was the first issue of my page that came out. Hurray!

I just took a test in my interpersonal communication class. There are some extremely interesting concepts that I would love to share. I love that class and my professor, Dr. Greene. He’s just incredibly open-minded to every person – no matter their culture, race, or nationality. He loves everyone. Incredibly enlightening. And most importantly, I love that class because I feel like it is helping me grow as a person – opening my eyes to the world and teaching me to treat each person as his or her own – something many people today overlook. You’re just grouped into some category or stereotype in someone’s mind and then they don’t give you a second glance. But it is getting around this natural mental barrier that will open you to a whole new world of diversity.

Wow, I just went on a whole tangent. Well, I have to go grab a quick lunch before my next class. I’m going to try to find a way to start posting weekly. To dedicate a specific time each week specifically for my blog. But I have no idea if that is still possible.

Back to College!

Hello, hello, hello! The last few days have been absolutely crazy! Then again, I have found some time to relax. The beginning of this week was filled with working at my internship and packing to move back in to Stevenson for my last and final year! I still can’t believe it.

On Tuesday night, my parents and I stuffed my car to its full capacity with all of my life’s belongings, which is quite a lot. Plus, the next day we filled my Uncle Joe’s truck with more. Then on Wednesday morning, off I went. I met Kirsten, my cousin/best friend/roommate, at school and we started hulling everything back in to the same exact building, the same exact apartment, and for me personally, the same exact room. It feels so weird being back here, almost as if we never left.

Kirsten and I were able to move in early since we joined a group on campus called S.M.I.L.E, which I have also done for the past two years living on campus. I can’t remember the acronym for the life of me. Something like… Student Move-In – I don’t know. Anyway, basically all we have to do is help the freshmen class move in all of their things. Not a small task. But at the same time, for me, it’s worth it because I get to move in early. Kirsten and I didn’t have to worry about the hassle of moving all of our things back in when all of the upperclassmen were also moving their things in to the apartment buildings.

So now, sitting here on Saturday evening, I’m waiting to take a shower – Kirsten and I share a bathroom. We are planning to go over to a friend’s place later tonight with our good friend Bridget and our new roommate, Kristina. She seems really nice. Hopefully we will have better luck compared to last year – a long story. So aside from Kirsten, I’m living with Kara and the new roommate I already mention – four total. We all have our own bedrooms. Kirsten and I share a bathroom. And Kristina and Kara will – once Kara moves in, which will be tomorrow. There is also a kitchen and living room. It’s a really nice place all in all. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Our lovely living room!

View from the front door.

More of our living room!

The kitchen and living room are more or less in the center of each apartment. There are two hallways on either side. When you walk down the hallway, the bathroom comes first. Two sinks just outside the bathroom, and then there is a shower and toilet inside the room. That way, if Kirsten is taking a shower or going to the bathroom, I can still use my sink. It’s pretty nice. Then if you walk a bit further down, you’ll find our bedrooms. Mine is straight ahead, and hers is off to the right.

My bed.

The rest of my room.

And on the other side (the wall you can’t see), is my desk and TV. So, that’s the tour of our lovely apartment. Kirsten is out of the shower so I gotta’ go hop in! Maybe I’ll be able to take a video of our apartment soon. That way it’ll be easier to get a feel for it. My description was probably incredibly confusing!

Snapshot, Flickr

So I finally decided to jump on the   bandwagon. I thought it would be nice to have a space to organize some of my photography, other than the iPhoto program I have on my Macbook. God forbid something ever happen to my computer, all of my photography would more or less be lost. So I’m biting the bullet and joining, “almost certainly the best online photo management and sharing application in the world,” according to their website, of course. Yet, I will apologize for my sarcasm because Flickr could quite be “the best of the best.” I could be mistaking cockiness for confidence in this situation. After all, Flickr’s website does say, “…almost certainly…,” not “…100% the best.” So, fair enough.

Actually, I’ve been working with Flickr a lot at my internship – something that I’ve been meaning to mention somewhere in these entries. I’m sure I’ll get to it at some point. The company I work for uses Flickr as its main photo management program. Anyway, the program is actually extremely easy to use once you play around with it a bit and get used to the location of everything. As I’m currently sitting, waiting for my pictures to upload, I noticed a stipulation. In fact, a really surprising one. There is a 100 MB photo limit per month per user. So depending upon how large your photos are that may not be very many. While waiting for my photos to upload, which is a little over halfway finished at this point, I decided to do a little math and found that I can only upload about 55 photos per month. Now for me and my purpose for my Flickr account, I will most likely be fine. However, I can see some people running into major problems if they use this as their main storage area for their pictures.

I just spent a little time organizing the pictures that are now uploaded and found that the “Organize” page of Flickr really is a miraculous invention for organizing your photographs into batches and then into sets. A set is more or less another word for album. At least, that’s my impression. In fact, I wish iPhoto had more of a similar layout. There’s also this really cool feature in the “Organize” section where you can Map the location of where your photographs were taken. That way your viewers have an idea of where they can go to take similar pictures.

Flickr also gives you the opportunity to create a Profile for yourself – you know, tell the world a little about you. Or you can choose not to tell the world with the various privacy settings that Flickr offers – incase you just want a personal space for your photos without others viewing them or you can adjust the setting to where only certain people have access to them. I decided to keep my privacy settings completely open, so if you’d like to take a look at some of my photography go to www.flickr.com/photos/stephaniefrancesw or you can go to the right side bar of my blog and click on, “Stephanie Frances’ Photography.”

Flickr  allows you to write up little descriptions about the overall album, or set, as Flickr likes to refer to them as, and you can write a description for each individual photo. Flickr also allows you to have titles for each of your photographs by simply clicking on the current title, editing it to perfection, and then clicking save. There are so many options and ways to manage your photos that I’m nearly positive there’s something here to please everyone who is looking for a site to keep their pictures safe while sharing them with others.

I thought this could be an interesting addition to my blog. Plus, its a great way for me to organize my photography and be able to share them with everyone at the same time. I still have a lot of exploring to do. If I find anything else SUPER cool, I’ll be sure to write about it. Plus, I’ll let you all know when I post new photography!

My suggestion: Try Flickr for yourself. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed!

My Little Paisley Pot

I won’t keep you too long with this post. Just wanted to talk about the mini-project I decided to take on within the past few days. I bought a little ceramic pot from Jo-Ann Fabrics with every intention to paint it. After a bit of contemplation, I came up with the bright idea to paint a paisley pattern along the outside. So, from there I painted the pot with a solid coat of light blue – my other flower pot is a light yellow color from Walmart so I needed a different color.

The beginning stages of my little ceramic pot!

I took a break for lunch and allowed the two coats of light blue paint to dry – since it was extremely hot that day it didn’t take very long at all for the paint to dry. From there, I stenciled on paisley markings with a pencil to create some form of a guideline as you can see below. Please don’t mind the clutter all around it. It’s how I tend to get when I’m in the middle of a project.

Step 2: Stenciling the pot. Oh fun!

Then, with a few splashes of Acrylic paint and some extremely tiny paint brushes – yes, trust me, it wasn’t as easy as I just made it sound – my little paisley pot was nearly complete! I desperately needed an idea for the trim of the pot. I thought painting it a solid color all the way around would look way too boring compared to the rest. I have a ton of ribbon around the house. So I thought I’d spicy it up with some shiny pink ribbon and a little black with white polka-dots ribbon. Sooo, let me know what you think!

Yey! All finished.

Yes, oh yes. There is a video!

My next mini project will be… DUN DUN DUN… trying to get something to grow, specifically (hopefully) Forget-Me-Nots, in my new little paisley pot!

Movie Review: The Game Plan

Title: The Game Plan
Length: 1hr 10min
Rated: PG

The heart-warming and funny movie The Game Plan is the perfect family flick. Boston Rebels #1 quarterback Joe Kingman, played by Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson, is the stereotypical arrogant, self-absorbed professional football player who has everything and anything at his fingertips – from his beautiful Russian girlfriend to a luxurious bachelor’s pad. His lavish, egotistical lifestyle comes to a screeching halt when his doorbell rings one morning. Little 8-year-old Peyton Kelly, played by Madison Pettis, stands at his doorstep with her doll, Camille tightly in her arms, claiming that she is his daughter. With Joe’s image on the line, assistant and publicist Stella Peck, played by Kyra Sedgwick, knows that the press will have a field day with this kind of shocking news.

From a selfish, narcissistic spinster, Kingman is faced with learning how to become a loving father – a challenge he never imagined he’d have to tackle. But ‘Never-Say-No Joe’ went from strapping his newfound daughter into the front seat of his Mercedes-Benz coupé with a football helmet on to a ‘#1 Dad’s’ station wagon. Parental mistakes piled high in the beginning, but with time, Peyton enchants her way into Joe’s heart where football, for the first time in his life, places #2. While Joe gets the hang of parenting, Peyton pushes him away from his materialistic girlfriend and introduces him to her wholesome ballet teacher. By the end of the film, Peyton has the entire Boston Rebels team wrapped around her little finger and has completely transformed the almighty football star.

My rating: 7 This is a great movie to watch with your family. I watched it with my mom one night while she was recovering from surgery and the movie made the two of us laugh and nearly cry – with the whole spectrum of emotions in between. Take it, the acting was a little cheesy, especially some of ‘The Rock’s’ lines. I don’t know if it was just because a big, buff man was saying a bunch of sappy things or if his acting really is that bad – perhaps a combination of both. Nonetheless, there was still a good message existing underneath. Plus, there’s a surprising twist to the ending that will not disappoint!

No, I promise I haven’t fallen off of the face of the Earth.

I know I’ve been away for a while. A long while. Much longer than I wanted it to be. I’m sure it is pretty obvious why. Reese was here for three weeks. Three absolutely amazing weeks. I’m so glad I went through with it – that I didn’t let my fear of how I would feel once he left affect my decision in living in the moment. Spending every moment I could with him will keep me from a lifetime of regret and always wondering, ‘what if.’ The day his flight left, my mom, sister, one of her friends, and I packed a few bags and left for Ocean City for a few days. Here are some fun pictures!

On the ride up! Erika and Amanda

Crow’s Nest View of the Bay.

On the beach! Mom and I.

My little cousin, Ellie playing in the sand!

My sister and mom at Tony’s on the Boardwalk! Such a great picture!

On the first beach day, we were all laying out on our towels, and every once in a while we would get this strong stench of vinegar. We assumed that the smell was drifting off of the Boardwalk from Thrasher’s.

The ever popular French fry stand at Ocean City, Thrasher’s.

Don’t get me wrong, I love vinegar on my French fries, (especially on my Thrasher’s French fries) but the smell of vinegar is just rank. I can’t even the stand the hint left on my fingers afterwards. After a while, we realized it was these two teenage girls, probably not over the age of 14 years old, dousing themselves in vinegar. Why? Well, that’s beyond me. They had an entire spray bottle of it and about every half hour they would take turns in the golden, sour mist. My joke was that it would help them fry just like Thrasher’s finest. Even if it would give me the best tan, I just couldn’t see myself being able to get past the smell seeping into my skin and sticking around for who knows how long. Nonetheless, I snuck a picture of the two girls sitting in front of us!

Caught in the Act!

First time on the beach with the Greene Turtle! Ellie’s new little sister, Grace!

Another picture of Ellie! Just because she’s so cute!

Soakin’ up the Sun! Ellie, Me, Amanda, and Erika.

And since then, well… I’ve just been trying to hang in there. The past few weeks have been incredibly difficult. Adjusting to not having Reese here has been a rather slow process and the realization that I will not be seeing him for a very long time is slowly starting to sink in. Nevertheless, I promise to start posting regularly once more. Lots of promises in one post, huh?

Quite Possibly Senseless Ramblings…

Tonight… I have a lot of things to talk about. Some things I haven’t mentioned. Some things that I’ve been meaning to mention, but didn’t know how. Some things that compete for my brain’s attention constantly. Some things I use as my escape from the reality. Some happy. Some not so happy. And in this moment, I find myself not really knowing where to start.

Just a warning, the rest may be incomprehensible. Could already be. It’s just how I’m feeling in this moment. And this will be much different from most of my entries. But I need to vent.

Tomorrow… My mom has her second surgery in fighting breast cancer. This will hopefully be the last time she has to go under before she starts radiation. I know that she’s going to be fine, but I’m a little anxious at the moment. This time around, I hope her recovery is much easier than the last. This is one of the key factors of my current stress.

I can feel the tension building in my back and my stomach turning in knots when thinking about my next stressor. It’s because of my perfectionist quality; I can’t escape it no matter what I do. I was just lying on my bed trying to force myself to sleep so I couldn’t think. So I could give myself a rest. Because lately, I’ve nearly spent every waking hour a little ball of anxiety. Then when sleep just wouldn’t consume me, I thought maybe writing about it could possibly help.

It’s so silly that I am angry with myself. I know the steps I have to go through when it comes to this repulsive trait – yes, I would spit on my need for perfection if I could. Or more so, the way I let it ruin my day when I have set unrealistic goals for myself. Especially when I – myself – can even recognize that they are ridiculous. Still doesn’t matter. Still isn’t good enough. It is a quality about myself that can sometimes be advantageous, but its counter side surely doesn’t tilt the scale to positive. It is truly a trait that I dislike about myself.

Not only do I feel silly, but I feel selfish for allowing something so insignificant bother me so much. But I don’t know how to just make myself drop it. I don’t know how to make my mind relax.

It has been officially five days at the most since I’ve had my car. And for some unrealistic reason, I feel the need to know how to fully drive it and be fully comfortable driving in it. It has been five days since I first ever tried to drive a stick and I expect myself to be a pro. And because I’m still occasionally stalling out; because I’m occasionally shifting into the wrong gear; because I can’t get the clutch to grab perfectly every time, I’m a wreck. My first instinct is to give up. To run away. But, I don’t let myself do that.

I think one of the real reasons – aside from my perfectionism – that I’m so upset about not being able to drive my car perfectly is because I feel out of control. When I had my car accident a few years ago, it really messed me up – emotionally, mentally. It wasn’t until a few months ago that I could say I truly felt comfortable driving in a car again going to uncharted, unfamiliar places. Now, getting a five speed has taken away all of that sense of control that I had finally gotten back. That loss of control scares me. The fact that I have to take all those steps just to get my car to move – as opposed to pressing one simple pedal before – scares me. The thought of stalling out in an intersection or not being able to go fast enough scares me. Everything about it at the moment pretty much scares me.

I keep telling myself to give it time. Soon enough, I’ll be more comfortable. I won’t even have to think about it. But for some reason, I just can’t get out of this rut. Whether it’s my perfectionist quality or my fear neither of those reasons are an excuse to be as upset as I am. If I find by the end of the summer that I still don’t like driving a manual then I’ll just have to deal with that when the time comes. Aside from the emotional aspect, the thought of the money I will have lost due to an irrational decision – a chance that I should have known better than taking – is a crushing thought.

My family is so low on money right now. My father is unemployed. My mom doesn’t work during the summer because she is a Preschool Teacher’s Aide. But the medical bills on top of all the other bills keep coming in. For your family – your stability, your foundation – to not be stable, its one step short of terrifying. And after my most recent purchase, I’m as broke as they are. Especially when the outlook of my new asset looks grim. I should be so happy. So excited. And instead, I’m the completely opposite. The stress right now is overwhelming. I don’t know what to do with all of it. It’s summer. It’s the three months of my life that aren’t supposed to be stressful, yet somehow they find a way to be.

And then I have something else to add on top of everything. The main reason why I wish the stress could melt away. These next three weeks could quite possibly be the most important, most cherished three weeks of the next year or so.

Reese. I say his name and it means a million and one things to me. If I close my eyes and picture him sitting next to me – it is the one and only time that I find the stress drifting away. He’s my rock. My friend. My support. My smile. My laughter. My heart. My love. I miss him so much that words can’t even begin to describe the extent. I met him last summer through my cousin, Kirsten – my best friend. He was here for a cousin’s wedding. Most of his family lives here. Aside from his mom and dad, of course. He lives in Kenthurst – that’s in Australia. We’ve been talking through AIM and SKYPE more or less every day for the past year. And now he’s finally coming back to “the states,” as he would say.

It has been hard enough not being able to see him for the long months that I somehow managed to trudge through, but I feel like I’m not ready for him to get here. With the stress of my mom’s surgery tomorrow and everything else on top of that, I can’t see straight. All this time that I have waited and anticipated his arrival, now that the time has come, I feel as though I’m not ready.

Maybe it’s not just the stress. Maybe it’s my nerves. Will he like me as much as he did last summer? Am I pretty enough? Smart enough? Funny enough? Am I a good enough kisser? But then when I go back to thinking about him – about Reese, my Reese – I think, he’ll love me just the way I am. My parents don’t really support what he and I have. Neither does my sister. In fact, I don’t tell many people for that reason. I understand that it is a difficult concept to grasp. I barely understand what we have, myself. Believe it or not by tonight’s entry, I’m a strong girl. At least, I like to believe myself to be. I’ll never give up. On anything. The stress I put myself through along the way… well, that’s a different story.

If I feel as those I have found true love, I will never ever give up on it. No matter the distance. No matter the seas and oceans that separate us. I don’t know if Reese and I have true love – if we already do, if we will one day, or if we never will. But what I do know is that when I’m with Reese, I feel happy. I feel safe. I feel confident, excited, adventurous, spontaneous, outgoing. I feel loved. I feel like he gets me. He puts me in my place when need be. He has the ability to comfort me through his words. And I’m looking forward to the three weeks we have where he can comfort me through more than words. Holding my hand. Holding me in his arms. I’ll be able to feel the crisp, clear laughter in his lungs, rather than the muffled, crackly one I hear over the computer. I’ll be able to see his face without the foggy gloss our webcams create. I’ll be able to reach out and – what seems like forever ago – touch him. Realize that he’s a real person. That I haven’t been living in a dream the past year. It’s not often that I feel this way about a boy. I know he’s different.

His plane lands tonight. Quite possibly could have already landed. I won’t be able to see him tonight, nor tomorrow. I need to be with my mom tomorrow. Take care of her. Hopefully by Thursday I’ll be able to get out at least for a few hours. I’ll be busting by then. It’ll be so weird knowing he’s here. Knowing he’s on this half of the world. Still I will not be able to see him. Ugh, it’s going to be torture. Tomorrow is going to be impossible to get through. Nothing to look forward to at all. Just eight hours in an office and coming home to my mom being in pain. I just hope it passes as quickly as possible with the least amount of pain and stress as possible.

Gosh, I miss him so much. I can’t even begin to describe the nights that I’d lie in bed awake hoping, praying that this time would come. I just have to be strong enough to get through tomorrow.

Because after tomorrow…

It means one thing…

Reese.

“It’s a Manual 5 Speed.”

I bought a car! Finally! Thanks to Scott Anderson of Heritage Mazda of Bel Air. He promised he’d find me a car. And he did just that.

He called me on Wednesday night all excited that he was sure he found the car for me. It was a 2006 White Mazda3. 15k. Sunroof. Power windows. In my price range. For a second, my heart fluttered. I just had a good feeling about this one. But then I asked the dreaded question, “What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch.” Then he hesitated and said, “Well… It’s a manual 5 speed.”

I laughed for a moment and thought back to the first time we had driven down to Bel Air to check out what they had a week earlier. We looked at a 2007 Black Mazda3 that was also a Manual and decided to test drive it – even though it was WAY out of my price range. Well, my father had to test drive it because I don’t – well, didn’t – know how to drive stick. So of course, Scott and my dad had something to say about that, which mostly consisted of making fun of me. My dad was convinced I could learn. I wasn’t so sure.

In response to his “catch,” I said, “Well… I’d be willing to try to learn. We will come in tomorrow afternoon and look at the car.”

Scott was so confident that this was the car for me; he set up a time to meet with us the next day even though it was his day off – and meant taking a break from doing yard work for his mom. So around one the next day, we headed off for Bel Air again. Another hour in the car. But for some reason, I just had a good feeling about this trip. That it wasn’t going to be a waste of time, gas, and disappointment this time.

On the phone he told me that his manager was going to raise the price after we looked at the car if we didn’t buy it. Neither of them understood why it was so low – whether he only said that to push me to buy the car, I’m not sure. Anyway, when we got there, we didn’t immediately see it in the Mazda lot. Scott had pulled it into the Cadillac lot since that was where he was working that afternoon. Or just long enough to sell us the car.

The moment I laid eyes on it, I loved it. The inside was spotless – well, nearly spotless. For a used car it was perfect. And after today – Saturday – we were able to get rid of all the very small, very minor spots. The interior is beige. I originally wanted darker seats because it would show less dirt, but I’m pretty confident that I’ll be able to keep the inside nice since my Mustang’s interior was also beige and remained spotless.

Front Interior

Back Interior

View Looking to the Front Seat

The outside was beautiful – with only a few minor scratches. Most in which we were able to buff out today. My dad and I also noticed a small dent on the frame of one of the back passenger doors. Though, it was only noticeable when the sun hit it in the right light.

My New Baby!

Side View

Back View

So I was excited to take it for a test drive. Well, I sat in the passenger seat, of course. My dad took it through Bel Air – through a small town, on a highway – just to test its “pep,” the “tightness,” and to make sure there was no “shake.” All words I’ve learned from my dad through our car shopping excursions. My dad said it road great. It was peppy. It was tight. And there was no shake.

Then it came time to decide. It wasn’t black – my first choice. White – my second choice – was awfully cute though. It had a sunroof – something I really wanted. It was manual – a scary thought – but something I always wanted to learn how to do. By buying a manual, it would certainly force me to learn.

So without a lot of hesitation, I said, “Yes!”

We went into the dealership from, sat down, and Scott brought us two bottles of “Dasani” water. Now came time to tell Scott what I wanted the car for. Despite the fact that he told me his manager thought the price was already set too low on the car – at $12,950 – I wanted him to come down another $200 to match a price at the Heritage Mazda of Owings Mills (even though the car had 15k more than this one). My leverage was that the one in Owings Mills was a year newer. Plus, my dad said that it was a perfect time to buy a car – at the end of the month – because they want to get as much of their inventory out as they can before the month ends.

Scott responded with, “Well, how about we take the dent on the passenger door out for free and leave the price where it is?”

I looked over and my dad and then back at Scott and said, “How about you lower the price and take the dent out for free.”

Scott smiled at me.

I grinned, shrugged innocently, and said, “Sorry, I drive a hard bargain.”

He said, “Let me go talk to my manager and see what we can do.”

He came back with a smile and said, “We will lower the price to $13,700 and take the ding out for free. Do we have a deal?”

I smiled and said, “Yes.”

He held his hand out and I allowed him to take mine. And from there it was a bunch of paperwork, plus the realization that I was going to be more or less broke after this purchase. Oh, and the apprehension of not even knowing how to drive a car that I spent nearly $14,000 on.

Scott let us take it home that night. Of course, dad drove it home. And that night, I started practicing over in the church parking lot. Bill came over and took me out. He’s extremely patient. A good teacher. An even better friend. It was only for a few hours though that we were out. I got frustrated and was ready to be done for the night. Let’s just say, I’m very familiar with what a burning clutch smell like.

We went out to Buffalo Wild Wings and met up with Sean, Dan, Steve, Steve’s  girlfriend – I can’t think of her name at the moment, and Nora, Bill’s ex-girlfriend. She’s not very fond of me, but that’s a whole story in itself. Well, after she sent me a Facebook message later that night, aka a whole long STORY, she might be okay with me now. Either way, I could care less. I’m just not really into the whole unnecessary “drama” thing. And boy, did she blow things way out of proportion last summer. But if she’s gotten over her jealousy and whatever tiff she had with me, then that’s a good thing.

Anyway, my dad took me out the next day – Friday – and I really started to get the hang of it. Really started to find where the clutch “grabs.” I even drove to my grandmother’s house, about 20 minutes away, and only stalled in traffic once.

Today went even better. I’m getting more comfortable. I think I’ll even be able to drive to work on Monday. I haven’t driven the car yet by myself. I’ve always had my dad in the passenger seat to coach me, but each time I get in the car, I’m more and more confident. I still manage to mess up the gears from time to time, but I even managed to not stall out on a hill! Very proud of myself for that one.

The stress that came along with buying a clutch – a car I didn’t know how to drive – is beginning to fade away. Now I’m starting to believe everyone when they say how much I’m going to love driving a stick. So I’m much, much more excited about my car today.

I woke up and my dad was out detailing it. We were supposed to do it together once I woke up, but he’s nearly as excited as I am. He couldn’t wait. So after he cleaned the car inside out, we drove to the Auto store – I can’t remember what it is called – and he bought some Bug & Tar remover to try and get a few more spots on my car out.

I was searching the isles for something I wanted, and other customers in the store were staring at me. I figured it was because they don’t normally see girls in an Auto store. But then I looked around and noticed there was another woman in the store plus two girl cashiers. I don’t know why they were staring. It made me uncomfortable.

I eventually found the bottle I was looking for after asking the cashier where it would be because I just couldn’t find it. So I bought some “Rain-X Original,” which is an agent you apply to the exterior of your car’s glass surfaces. It ultimately repels rain and reduces the adhesion of sleet and snow and improves wet weather driving visibility by a TON. Trust me. I applied it to all of my glass surfaces – windshields, side windows, and even the sunroof. In fact, the next time it rains, I’ll take a video of what it looks like, update this entry, and post it RIGHT HERE – well, right below here.

My mom just got home from working with my grandmother at the Curiosity Shoppe for the day and I’m pretty sure we are going to Five Guys tonight for dinner. I’m going to go get ready!

Goodbye Mustang Sally

Here are the photos of my new desk as promised.

The New and Improved DESK!

I painted the desk an off-white because I think I’m going to go for a bold color on my walls. This way, if I want it white when the time comes – great. If not,  it won’t be too difficult to paint over. Once I get a new comforter and a vibrant, new color on my walls, I may even decide to paint some kind of design on the desktop.

Okay, enough on the desk. This entry is devoted to my Mustang. My baby.

Where to start. Well, my very first car was a 12 year old Lexus. Gold. Four door. Sunroof. My grandmother’s. She sold it to me for $4000. I could show you pictures, except it’s only of the car smashed to pieces. An old man decided to run a red light and plow into the front passenger side door before I even had a chance to take proper pictures.

That moment changed a lot of things for me. One, it made me scared to death to drive. I used to love it. It used to be one of the most soothing things I could do at 17 years old. Two, it made me slow down. A lot. The fastest I’d gone in my Lexus – the fastest I’d gone ever with me in the driver’s seat – was 115mph. Pedal to the metal, right? Three, it made me realize how fast things can change. In a split second, everything can be taken away. Your entire life. Gone. I remember thinking when I was little: “If I ever get into a car accident, I’ll see it coming and I’ll hold onto something. Anything.” Yeah, I learned that’s impossible. Happens way too fast. And four, it enabled me financially to buy my dream car. My Mustang.

I just thought that extremely brief backstory was necessary to give the story a little color. So, my accident happened the Saturday before my first day of college. A story I will save for another day. I was extremely frustrated that I didn’t have a car since – one, my college allowed freshman to have cars on campus and two, my college is split between two campuses that are 15 to 20 minutes away driving time.

I’d been frantically searching for a car. CarMax. Autotrader. Dealerships. Private Sellers. And then finally, I came across one on Craig’s List. 2001 Mustang. White. 41,000 miles. The picture was terribly tiny and blurred. But I was so desperate, I was willing to take my chances. Though, there’s another kicker – I was going to have to convince my dad to drive an hour and a half away – to Virginia – to go see a car that could quite possibly be dented all over and still look good in the picture provided.

By some miracle I talked my dad into taking the drive one weekend. The moment we turned into the neighborhood, I sunk in my seat. Anxiousness overwhelmed me. I remember thinking: This isn’t good. This can’t be good. As I looked around, all the cars seemed to have dents on them. The houses looked run down. On one of the street corners, one house was even boarded up. I felt so bad for having persuaded my dad to drive all the way down to Virginia to look at – which I was sure of at the time – a dumpy car.

We were getting closer and closer to the right street. And then, as if the heavens were going to open up, as we rounded the corner, there she was. A diamond in the rough – literally. The car was immaculate. For a 2001 anyway. I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.

What I Saw When I Rounded the Corner

My Baby

Beautiful.

A Little Idea of What I See in My ‘Rearview’

And three days later, it came home with me. I bought it for $7500. For some reason, the insurance company’s estimate for my granny car came to $7500. So, I more or less swapped a 12 year old, over 100K vehicle for a 5 year old, 41K roaring race car. Though, it is safe to say that my racing days were over the day I had my accident. I can honestly say that I never quite touched 100mph in my Mustang.

Anyway, I loved that car so much. Never gave me an ounce of trouble. Never left me stranded. The only thing it did wrong was hike up my insurance and only get me 18-19 miles to the gallon. Not to mention, it wasn’t the best car for anything less than sunny conditions. But other than that, I felt pretty cool in that car. Pretty darn cool.

But now that I’m 20 years old and almost off my parents’ insurance policy – aka, I’ll be paying for my own insurance – I decided that I should probably start looking to buy a car that’s one – better on gas, two – a better insurance rate, and three – a newer model. I know, I know. I’m an old woman now. Might as well go buy myself a cane with my newfound sensibleness. So anyway, I started looking at Mazda3’s. Started looking at prices. The brand quality. The gas mileage and possible insurance rates. And apparently they have great crash ratings so that makes my mom happy.

One night I decided to put my Mustang up on Craig’s List – just to see if I’d get any takers and what they were willing to offer. That night I got a response with a few additional questions. The next day the son, 16 years old, and the father came to look at my baby. The day after they gave me an offer of $6250. Kelly Blue Book said my car was only worth a little above $5000. My dad said I should take it and run. Within five days of putting my car up on Craig’s List, it was gone. It all happened so quickly. I couldn’t exactly call it, “Seller’s Remorse,” but it was certainly a little piece of my heart that drove away with that car.

Silly to attach yourself to material items. You don’t even want to get me started on that debate. Me of all people. But I think it was more so the memories I have attached with the car. It’s not like you could place the same model, but different car in front of me and I’d still have the same empty feeling. Anyway, I gave the steering wheel a little kiss goodbye and knew it was the right thing to do. Even though it felt so wrong at that moment. And still, sitting here – nearly a week after selling it – still feels wrong. But only because I’ve destroyed my chances at freedom for the moment. Or so it feels. I mean, I can’t even get to work without someone taking me there. I more or less live in the middle of no where. It’s not like I can walk five minutes and be in the heart of a city. I have to drive for at least 15 minutes to get even remotely close to something you could call a city – a town, even.

Anyway, the 16 year old boy was so excited. Even though he didn’t show any of his excitement while he was looking at the car, his parents said the moment he got home he was bouncing off the walls. He doesn’t even have his license yet. Only his learner’s permit.

Oh, and my mom took some cheesy photos of me last minute with my mustang – a few hours before the parents came to pick it up to surprise their son when he got home. I’m sure he was absolutely enthralled.

I’m Gonna’ Miss Mustang Sally!

Sorry, I know. I’m not much of a car model.

All my Mom’s Idea. I felt as cheesy as I look. Trust me.

Okay. So yeah, Those were fun. Anyway, as I watched my car drive off into the distance, I knew one car door was closing. Come on, you know the quote, “When one door closes, another one opens.” I try to live life with that kind of optimism. I know I’m going to miss my Mustang. I don’t doubt that for a second. But I do hope that something good does and will come out of it.

So even though I’m incredibly frustrated now – beyond belief, believe me (hah, the irony in that statement) – I know that soon enough I’ll be back on the road with the world at my fingertips. Or at least, that’s how it’ll feel. I’ll be in a new car. Create new, lasting memories. Get attached to a materialistic item that I promised myself I wouldn’t get attached to. And the cycle will surely repeat.

Either way, I never want to forget this story. This chapter of my life.

So… Here’s to you, Mustang Sally. To your spirit, your beauty, our memories…

New Projects!

Wow… I feel like I haven’t posted an entry in forever. But I must say, I’ve been extremely busy. I took on a new project. Well actually, I guess you could say – two new projects. I decided that since I would be permanently moving back into my parent’s house in a year – once I graduate from college – I might as well like my room. Soon enough, it’ll be the only thing I can call mine. In past years, I more or less lived out of boxes or weekenders during college breaks – summer, winter, spring thanksgiving, and Easter. And because of this decision, I hope to repaint and redo my room. New bedspread. New color. Maybe a nice shade of green. Though I haven’t given it a ton of thought just yet. And… what I decided I would really need was a desk.

I’ve been having my mom keep an eye out for one, ask around a little – she has a way with finding things for free or for really, really cheap. It’s not like I am looking for a big, expensive desk anyway. In fact, my room doesn’t even have the space to hold one. Just something small, quaint to hold my computer, some pens and pencils, and maybe some of my papers. When she managed to find one – as she always finds whatever is needed – the moment I laid eyes on it, I fell in love.

It was my great aunt’s son’s desk. Denny – his name – is grown, married, and has been moved out for years and years. It has sat alone in a “Budweiser” themed room. Budweiser bedspread. Budweiser curtains. Budweiser EVERYTHING. And to top it all off and to go along with the theme, the desk was painted the “Bud” shade of blue.

Why a Budweiser themed room, you ask? Well, my great aunt’s husband, Charlie, used to own a distributing branch of Anheuser Busch called “Bees of Baltimore.” For family parties, we would have Budweiser glow sticks and Budweiser confetti poppers, Budweiser blinking pins and Budweiser beaded necklaces. We would have beer trucks with three taps connected to the top three brands of Budweiser’s beer. You get the picture. Of course, I was too young to reap the true benefits. Anyway, Denny was probably the son who was most invested in the company – financially, emotionally, everything. He lived, breathed, and slept Budweiser. As you can see from the sight of his childhood room.

The Oh-So-Lovely Budweiser Desk

BEFORE I touched the desk.

Anyway – minus the atrocious color, the dainty desk had character. I had a vision for it. Originally, it was to sand the desk down to the wood and then follow up by staining it. Once I tried sanding it, I realized that the effort it would take to get down to the wood just wasn’t worth what I would get out of it. The desk was made of pine, not the most flattering types of wood. So from there, I decided I would paint it. Kind of like trial and error – much like the way I live my life.

So I went to my local Home Depot and bought a small can of paint called “Moonlight White.” It took me about two days to put a base coat on (I used old paint leftover from our living room) and two coats of the “Moonlight White.” I also had to let it dry for two days. It’s been so humid that it’s stunting the paint’s ability to dry.

Though, I couldn’t wait any longer than those two days. I was busting to get it in my room. And even though the drawers are still sticking a little, I have everything set up. I’ll have to take pictures and I’ll post them on my next entry.  Promise! I also bought round, nickel knobs, which I believe accented the desk nicely.

My second new project – a car. It’s a story in itself. And I promise to tell it in my next post.

But to be honest, I’m absolutely exhausted! I woke up at 7:30 today. Work by 9:00. Got off at 5:00. Went to the Heritage Mazda of Owings Mills. More or less a failure. Then I had to rush to get to my first indoor hockey game. A little rough. Haven’t played in about a year. Came home. Showered. Ate the second half of my dinner that I didn’t get the chance to the first time around. And now it’s nearly 11:00. I need sleep.

I will probably have time to post more tomorrow as long as I don’t have to go to another dealership and hopefully, I’ll have a little more energy. Be a little more upbeat.

Well, goodnight.