Happy Birthday to me!

Silly title, yes, but how many times do I get to say that a year? After a rough start to the evening, my gracious God has brightened me up with my friends at the Potter's House in order to welcome my 19th year of life with a smile and happy heart.

My peer mentoring was alright, and then I missed the facials that were going on at the PH, which made me sad, but I did get to chat to my mother on the phone, and then have bible study, where I remained quiet for the night. But afterwards I perked up and the PH turned into a hot spot for laughter and people coming out of the woodwork to hang out. I love it there and actually, for the first time, I'm declaring that I would greatly enjoy living there next year as a Junior. It's cheaper, I get my own room and a home instead of concrete walls. And most importantly, my faith would be strengthened in community with other Christians. Now I wonder what mother will think of that when she reads that. Haha.

So I am now 19 years old. I don't feel all that different, my other friends tonight told me I act more mature than I actually am, which is kind of funny. I may look like a mere 16 year old but do I have the spirit of someone older? Hmm, pondersome. I recieved a cute bear and card from my roomie when I returned to the room and my friends Im-ing me and giving birthday wishes. Birthdays are fun. I don't think I will ever stop liking them.

Anyway, I need some sleep, big day tomorrow, or is it today? Who's counting hours, my eyelids are drooping! Haha, night everyone! :)

Winter is A Comin'

Today is just friggin cold. Plain and simple, straight to the point. It's 55 degrees out and it's still September. Something is wrong, someone ticked off old man winter, the ecosystem is decaying, but whatever the reason, I'm freezing my hind end off on the way to classes. Of course one of the coldest September days would fall on a Thursday- one of my busyest days of the week. Poitfect.

But on a lighter note, my birthday is tomorrow. I can't imagine being 19, one reason being that's an odd number that doesn't really appeal to me and the second is that it's my last teenage year; which in fact, I don't feel like much of a teenager. A number is a number. A dollar is a dollar, even if it;s the last one in your pocket. I'm not exactly sure what message or idea I was trying to convey with the whole dollar thing, so if it didn't make sense to you, don't lose any sleep over it tonight.

Anyway, on my brithday I will particiapte in some Highland Ambassador things (not exactly sure what time that will happen, either 8AM or 11AM, it's still pending, I am crossing my fingers for the 11AM shift. No one likes to get up early on their birthday, ok, maybe Sharon, but Sharon always gets up with the birds. I respect her for such bravery- I simply cannot do it.) For the afternoon/evening there is a movie night at the PH and a trip to the Dairy Supreme for some good quality diet busting ice cream with K and M.

My friend and fellow RamRod bowling team member M is back in the Boro for a few days. He left this past summer to boot camp and now he is returning to us for a visit as an offical Marine. We are all so proud, I will have to post a pic of him in the dress blues (that uniform is to die for). It was good to see him, it's almost like old times, he hopes to be back for the Spring Semester, we all hope that.

It's been a crazy busy week and the weekend looks the same. Peer Mentoring, bible study, dinner for tonight, tomorrow is the birthday along with a side dish of Ambassador duties and ice cream topped off with a movie, Saturday is the grand homecoming parade I am walking in for Ambassadors, later that night working on a scrapbook with my friend J, Sunday I am a greeter for McLane again, and then working with the Creative Team for a video for the Gathering. I am seriously waiting for a day to sleep in- honestly, lol. But I am busy in a good way, and I'm lovin' it.

Well, it's time to get cracking on a few things. See you guys around, and I'll get some pics posted soon! Also, if you want to view the updated pictures I have of campus and such, find the link "Lindsay K.'s Photos" and click on it, it will take you to webshots and you can graze through the folders for some entertainment. Enjoy and have a good one!

Go Boro!

Heidi and I at the football game in the Boro getting our "free drink and beverage", long story, lol. Go team, go!

My Hope Floats

Chessy title, yes I know. It's been an emotional day, like a roller coaster of some kind. I think I've thought about everything I possibly could today and I'm still awake and sane, for the most part. It must have been the whole grain Cheerios. They were great this morning, Berry Bursts Strawberry and Banana, you should try it sometime. Fabulous.

Church was great today. I was so tuned into the message today that it even left me thinking for hours on end after church was dismissed. A part of that message was directed at how the modern church has somewhat failed in trying to keep tradition rather than keeping truth and faith. That idea hit so close to home- literally. I can think of the top of my head of families who sit in the same pew every Sunday and my home church and refuse to talk to certain people because they won't forgive, others stare if you're not wearing the appropriate clothing, and so on. There's nothing wrong with hymns and pews, but the church of today needs to "repackage" but not "replace". There seems to be some many misconceptions and barriers about Christians, and sometimes they’re true. In a way, it made me grateful that I found a church I really connect to, along with many other Christians, some who are college students attending Edinboro. I felt at home.

The afternoon became stressful. I decided to leave the dorm room that was causing the frustration and left to do some laundry at the Potter's House A.K.A my safe haven. I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for the Potter's House. The warm walls, the soft couch, the welcoming people, the colorful walls, it's a second home to me. I love the structure, the sliding French doors, even the basement that is falling apart. (Mostly because it reminds me of my grandfather's basement). Laundry and some reading, which then evolved into a movie - a nice Sunday evening.

A resident at the house, H, pictured above with me at the football game, has a boot load full of movies, a great majority of them being chick flicks. I debated between Serendipity and Hope Floats, and had to go with Hope Floats, mostly because of Harry Connick Jr. I needed a pick me up. I know my mother would be right along side of me with that choice. Haha.

The movie was good; hopefully those reading have seen it. At the end, I wasn't so much longing for a special someone to come along in my life, like most girls would do after a chick flick, but I missed home. The movie is set at the main character's country home with her Mother and Father. As I folded my laundry I felt a yearning I used to feel when I missed Wuvor- the feeling of missing someone that you love. I also feel honored and fortunate to have such a great home life in comparison to others who dread a call from their parents or refuse to spend any time in the house they grew up in. I have an insurmountable amount of memories from home that make me smile ear to ear. Funny, the summer before I didn’t spend much time at home, and this summer, I didn’t spend much time with Wuvor. A lot does change in a year.

This past summer was almost like a good cup of tea- you didn't want to drink it right away it was so good, but to savor the taste and enjoy every morsel of flavor on your tongue. I loved being at home this summer, probably one of the reasons it was hard at first to come back to school. Late nights with David Letterman, breakfast Saturday mornings, Sunday dinner, fresh cut green grass and sitting on the porch with the pets enjoying the air. Such beauties make me wish upon stars in the night sky for a home of my own so soothing and warm someday, a home just catty corner from my parent’s house, right in the hay field, with a gravel driveway, lots of windows so the sunshine streams inward, and a big ol' dog that visits the family and neighborhood, just like mine. I know I'm not the keeper of my stars and the one who's holding the map of my life, I leave that up to the good Lord, but I hope it's in the plans. I honestly could never live in the city. You can't smell the fresh cut grass or the crickets at night, instead it’s filled with horns and sirens, smoke and dust. My heart could never call that home. My friend K lives in Pittsburgh and honestly can't wait until she returns home. As that song goes "You can take the girl out of country but you can't take the country out of the girl"… or something to that extent.

It will be great to be home again the weekend of October 15th. In fact, I hope I can leave Thursday in order to get more quality time, especially with that baby girl I miss so much. I already have a list of things I would like to do while being at home. One is to work on my Aunt and Uncle's computer; another is to attend the Corn Maze that my old Art Teacher hosts for a fundraiser, maybe even some good old yard sales with mother. Besides, I still have stuff at home that I have forgotten to bring back to the Boro. I just keep forgetting.

Speaking of the Boro, the football game was good. I was planning to make a trip home this weekend but I was invited to sit in the President's Reserved Section to watch the football game, since I'm a Highland Ambassador. It pays to know the big man. He's so jovial and kind, and it never ceases to amaze me how large his hands are when he gives you a hand shake. But anyway, Edinboro beat Shippensburg 16-0, a good game but not too exciting. SRU, my brother's University, creamed the corn out of Lock Haven this weekend, but that is no consolation for what a pounding they'll get October 22nd when they come to the Snow Belt to get beat down by my Fighting Scots.

Anyway, it's time for me to head on out. There is laundry calling my name to put them back in their file cabinets AKA dresser drawers. Have a good one, see ya round.

Look at those sexy blazers! Sizzlin'! 

Monday Sucks

Typically I have normal Monday’s that turn out being like any other day of the week. Not so today.

The day was off to a bright start when I set my alarm clock incorrectly last night before bed, setting it an hour before I had to get up. Needless to say, my alarm went off at 7:20 rather than 8:20, something completely terrible to someone like me who finally crawled into bed at 1AM after studying and relaxing. The soft inner voice in my foggy mind told me to check the time on my phone to see what time it was, because I have a daily ritual of laying in bed after the alarm rings, waiting for a snow storm to knock out all life outside and have class cancelled and I can easily fall back to my sweet slumber. But this morning I didn’t check my alarm to see what time it is, so I tumbled down from bed to get dressed, put my contacts in, and even post an away message on Instant Messenger saying that I had class till 10:30ish. As I was sliding on my grandmother’s ring and fastening my cross necklace, I finally did a time check and to my utter surprise discovered it was 7:30 something- and I was disgusted. Sure, it would only be an hour or so, but still- that hour can make a difference. I need a good 8 hours + to function. Not today.

I debating on whether to be a hyper active freak and go get breakfast from the food court to start the day off bright, but knowing I lost that much sleep only depressed me to the point where I crawled back into bed and tried to cuddle under the covers to get some quick shut eye. I set my alarm, and off I went…until I heard the alarm go off after a quick millisecond of shut eye passed. Gosh.

Off to the first class of the day at 9:00AM: Studio Skills. Our teacher, who isn’t even a professor but just a fill in, gives abnormal assignments and speaks to the class in this weird lecture form where he speaks, takes an awkward pause, and then speaks again. Lather, rinse, repeat if necessary. One word: boring. He speaks of nothing that has relevance to do with the class and the curriculum. Today was the critique for the project I had procrastinated on to the point where I forced myself to get a marker out. To my surprise, the critique was nice, quick, to the point. (My previous critiques from last semester were dreadful, lasting 2 hours and 50 minutes.) But to my great disadvantage, he kept us right to the minute- 11:50- talking about gibberish no one in the class understood. He gibbered for an hour and 50 minutes. Lord, spare me now.

After getting through that class and half tempted to pick up a change of minor form at the Bursar’s office, I scurried over to my next class at 12 for a test on some notes we’ve taken since the beginning of the year. This Space Science class has no required textbook, which is nice for my wallet, but not for test day. The professor informed us that He is the textbook. The test seemed harder than it was expected to be. I studied everything in notes, I even know facts I didn’t need to know.

But the sickening feeling of failure set in and my heart dropped about 60 feet to the floor as I saw the grade decline from A, then B, then C, and hopefully not any lower. I set a standard for myself to earn a GPA of 3.7, like I did last semester and now in one test I feel like a lost cause. I often got this feeling from my math classes all through school. I thought I knew the material, I thought I had it down pat, and now I am left with nothing on exam day.

I left the room and my fellow classmate who lives in the same building as me starts raving to me how easy the exam was after I told him I found it extremely difficult. I studied all last night, he studied for twenty minutes. If I had a girl friend that was in my class, she would be supportive and wouldn’t even discuss her level of achievement on the test. See, this is why I am sick of men. I’m glad I have no attachment to some significant other. I just can’t take it right now. All I’ve seen is stupidity lately- raw stupidity. This is why I’m single. I need a vacation from relationships AKA senseless, emotionally colorblind men. Too much work.

After ditching my classmate who had royally irritated me from his never-ending knowledge of the notes he barely studied, I ate with some friends who perked me up to the point of maybe laughing or smiling. I returned to my room, grabbed my favorite pink towel that is softer than the clouds themselves, and took a steamy hot shower to wash away the disgust and anguish from a rare but roaring ruthless Monday. This, my friends, just plain sucks.

I am done with classes for the day (Thank the heavens!) but I still have matters to attend to. Another quiz is coming my way on constellations Wednesday and a Literature of the Bible test on Thursday. I intend to my fullest to knock them down with no problem- but then again- I aimed for that today. Hopefully it will get better, I know it will. As a good friend of mine from the PH said: “Eh... you'll have days like these. And the only thing you can do is persevere through them... there's light at the end of the tunnel- and it's not another train coming...”. Well put. I’m out to do some more work. Later gators.

One of the people I miss the most

This is my desktop background on my computer- and it makes me miss her more and more! Adorable, isn't she?

Homes Sweet Homes

Saturdays are great, yet different depending where I am. If I'm at home, I enjoy getting up around 8:30 to eat breakfast with the family, a nice omlet with cheese and orange juice to walke up to. If I'm in Edinboro, I arise around 10:00, chill around, and finally get out of my pj's at 1PM. Funny how culture can change you without even knowing it. But then again, if someone was making me a cheese omlet every Saturday in Edinboro, I just might get up.

I won't be home for quite some time, in fact, not until mid October. I was planning to go home next weekend, but due to a special invitation from the President to all Highland Ambassadors to watch a football next Saturday in the President's reserved section with free food and drink, I decided to seize that oppritunity and spend the weekend in EUP. It's good in a way, it's economical and practical. My parents don't have to put $20.00+ dollars in the gas tank and I can get more time "living the college life" which AKA is just spending another weekend in Edinboro. I do like the weekends here, all kinds of things happen- movies, trips, food, more movies, more food, and all sorts of adventures. I also enjoy the church I attend in Edinboro, even a little more so than my church from home.

Yet there are some things I do miss from home that I am itching to return to. One is my new baby cousin, who is growing like a weed- and I'm missing it. I miss my dogs and cats, they probably have no idea where I went driving off to. And of course, home cooked meals, family, and the countryside.

I was thinking about it yesterday- I want the best of both worlds. My major deals with Public Relations, which one would see as a professional city-slicker job with the fancy, expensive apartment and little dog that fits in your purse. Yet I love the countryside, even the smell of fresh cut grass, big dogs running around wherever they please (sometimes, unless they are on lock down because they can't behave). I'm learning to not fit into sterotypes- each person is different. When people ask me what I plan to do with my major, I'm not quite sure how to answer them. Of course a part of me questions each day whether I should be taking what I am, taking the minor I am, but then another part is reminding me to trust God and let him lead my path. Now that doesn't mean that I'm going to be ingorant about the whole matter and end up graduating with a diploma that I don't intend on using, it's letting God guide me where he wants me to go, and right now a major in Speech Communications with a focus in Public Relations and minor in Graphic Design sounds just fine. (Even though I hate the project I just finished for Graphic Design. Silly class. Blah.)

It's hard to have two homes, a constant little tear between the worlds, but it's ok, I only have one time in my life to expereience this- savor the moment while it last. I'm off to eat, then to do laundry, and read some more. Enjoy your Saturday everyone, I know I will.

Doctor Disaster

It's been a few days since the visit to Hamot Hospital and I decided to schedule my follow up appointment at the campus Health and Wellness Center. I was directed by Hamot to do so, and since I have never really had an appointment there, just had visited to fill out applications for a job that I never got called back for, I had no previous experience with their services, only dark rumors that have filled the campus.

Rumors are usually false, but the students are dead right on this fact. If your injured, you might as well suffer to death than put your last efforts and take your last breaths explaining what happened to a doctor that could care less about why your there.

It was the doctor appointment from hell.

I hobbled over, half crutching it. (Half crutching is the process of using half your weight to walk and distrubuting some of your weight to the injured foot and the rest of the weight on the crutch, much easier than straight crutching it, see PAIN IN REAR or ACHING ARMS for further description.) The receptionist was very friendly, which surprised me because last time I was in Gherring, filling out yet another job application, she was reaming out another student worker because she forgot to mark something, I felt bad for the poor kid, I guess I am glad I didn't get a job there.

Anyway, the receptionist was friendly, the nurse was friendly (except for the slight misconception I was riding an ATV. I don't care for ATV's as much, dirtbikes slide, ATV's roll. I'm more of a dirtbike girl), the doctor was a...well, you can throw in your own colorful adjective there. I saw his shadow in the glass as he neared the door, didn't knock, came in, no introduction, and sat down, scribbling in his little note pad, and then asked what happened and why I'm there. I thought that's what records are for. Then he preceeded to give me a 3-5 minute lecture on how he can't "treat me" because he doesn't have X-rays and any other records, with the exception of Hamot calling Gherring to inform them of my ER visit last Friday. After that I asked him about my foot and why it has swollen to the size of an offical NFL pigskin football. He so intellectually replied "I don't know". Terrific. This guy claims to have years of experience from the emergency room and yet the can't tell me why my foot is soon going to pop and give birth to a sixth toe.

After that run down, the looks at my foot and moves it up and down. He first tells me to relax, I do, he moves it, and then strictly tells me again to relax as I replied "I am!". Then he moves his fingers up my calf in a pressing motion asking if anything hurt. When he reached on of the large, mulpy brusies on my back calf I quickly said "That hurt, because there's a bruise." "Oh yeah" he says and goes back to his paper to scribble some more. He then asked what I was doing to have the accident, if was at a "rally" or something. I told him I was just riding around my yard, and after that recieved instruction on how I should wear proper gear. Obviously this guy isn't from the country. I was in my yard! Why don't I wrap myself in bubble wrap next time I take a walk with my dog? A tree might come out and scratch my arm, oh the horror!

The appointment was done, he sat there, I put the air cast back on, opened the door myself, and walked out, quickly said thanks, and hobbled away to the door. I stepped outside and began to cry. I didn't expect to be treated like a moron, like dirt, by a professional none the less. This is a disgrace.

I called Gherring back later yesterday and asked for his name because he didn't give it to me in the room, even didn't wear a name tag. I am finding the director. I am complaining. Apparently, the name of this doctor preceeds him. A friend of mine at the PH told me of an instance where the very same doctor sent her home with a broken arm, telling hre nothing was wrong. Another told me of a story from another doctor employed at the Wellness Center that simple looked into her mouth and told her she had strep without running a proper test or culture of any kind (Later my friend also learned she had strep and mono, something they obviously didn't find). This is outrageous. First ResLife doesn't give me a key and my mother calls up the director who then lavishly kissed her butt with apologies to straighten things out. I stood outside and cried thinking "When will this mess be over? I can't do anything, I only cause trouble." It was a hard day.

Later that night I went to the Gathering, an off-campus college hang out where you can hear God's message from a speaker, listen to an awesome live band each week, and connect with other Christians. The Gathering never felt so good to attend. God is so good, he truly bring peace into my heart.

Another thing that made me laugh was an unexpected voicemail from my brother what sounded like this "If your hoppy and you know it, stomp your crutch! If your hoppy and you know it, stomp your crutch! If your hoppy and you know it, and your face does surely show it, if your hoppy and you know it, stomp your crutch!" It made me laugh and brightened my day. I am still surprised he called me, even after fulfilling my duty of being a little sister and trying to get some information about my brothers secret and mysterious "love life" and "unnamed girlX".

I'm off to another day of hobbling, trying to be off crutches and just air cast, and taking it easy. Peace out peeps. Drop a message and I'll get back to ya.

Hopping Along

It's been a pretty uneventful weekend for me, which is actually a good thing. I've caught up on my sleep and have spent some time updating my move knowledge, mostly back to back study sessions for that. Doctor has ordered me to be on crutches 3-4 days and an air cast for 1 week, so everyday seems like a vacation with chores.

I've never been on crutches before, but I've played with them. There's something about crutches that tempt you to trying them out if they are just laying around, but if required to become a part of your daily activities, the utmost contempt develops within and they become large, bulky, ugly, and painful. Even if your swinging the correct way, it's still hard, mostly because of my stature and lack of arm muscle to propel me around like a pendulum.

It must be said that I have a great group of friends in Edinboro that are extremely helpful through all of this hobbling, from carrying bag, getting food, fetching items, and giving me car rides. No matter what the challenge, they arise and help without ever thinking twice. Yet with such help, I feel an overwhelming sense of guilt and helplessness. It's not that I am proudfull or over-confidant, it's the idea that I believe I can do it, and even though I need help and will ask, but it's the idea that I'm, well, as one person puts is, "a wuss", something I can't get out of my mind.

After this ordeal, I want to start kickboxing to become fit, and maybe work out around the room to get stronger. Actually, I can't wait to walk to class without little bits of pain or able to clean the room, hang things up that have fallen down again and again, and just enjoy being mobile and now confined to my office chair or a couch.

The upcoming week is going to be a busy one, between Tues./Thurs. 8:00AM mornings for OSD Peer Mentoring (a job I start this week with a student), the Gathering Tuesday night, Bible Study Thursday night, and a Luncheon Friday for Ambassadors. Balance, direction, determination. But for this week, I'll focus on the Amoxicillin and Anaprox with a dose of sleep and a truckload of DVD's.

Someday I would like to venture back to a dirtbike, to somewhat "redeem" myself, even though the thought of that right now is scary. But for now my challenges are homework, classes, getting to class, but my goals are grades, planning, and seeking direction from the one thing that had fallen out of my life for a year and ten months- God. Time for me to seek Him, to glorify Him, and to let him take the pilot's seat. I've been to one side and then the other- happiness is impossible without Him.

Enjoy the Sunday, it's beautiful, and never forget. 9.11.05

What happens when you're bored

Your Personality Profile

You are pure, moral, and adaptable. You tend to blend into your surroundings. Shy on the outside, you're outspoken to your friends. You believe that you live a virtuous life... And you tend to judge others with a harsh eye. As a result, people tend to crave your approval.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

Yeah, this is what happens when you are bored on the net and you're on crutches with an air cast on your foot for an acute sprain and were at the ER for five hours and I feel like being at home with my mommy and daddy and my pets and baby cousin. Bummed for the night, and the weekend, but it will get better. Night.

Slow and Steady goes off the race course

So I have some explaining to do. The pictures below this post aren't pictures from Labor Day weekend of pretty flowers, or lovely pets, or my fantastic friends. No, those are pictures of my battered arm, bruised legs, and beat up ankle. Gotta love holidays.

In fact, holidays like Labor Day, 4th of July, or even Memorial Day always bring about some type of human disaster all over the nation. The emergency rooms are always packed when it's a holiday- it's a given. My aunt who used to be an ER nurse told me all about it. Whatever is humanly idiotic and dangerous, it will occur when our culture gives people an extra day off for a holiday to relax and rest up.

Now I'm not saying what I did was stupid and that I planned on it, my goodness no. Misfortune also follows holidays like a black curse. Sure, you could change that lightbulb in the house any day of the year and be fine, but if it's a holiday weekend, plan to fall off that ladder, take the light fixture with you, and break an arm on your way down.

Now to my Labor Day story that I've recounted so many times I'm surprised I'm not publishing a book. But a blog is close enough, it's like that over/grill they advertise on TV: "Set it, and forget it!" Anyway, I was taking a plesant and jovial ride on my cousin's dirtbike around the yard. The bike is having some trouble with the gas and needed to be checked out with my father, but nothing major, still ridable. I loved it when my aunt had her old 50 CC bike at the house. I rode it a lot and wanted more, so I welcomed this chance with open arms. Sure, I needed refreshed on the basics, but I like riding, it's a different kind of fun.

So I was doing well, confidant, but not cocky, aware, but not asleep, smart, but unknowing to what would happen next. I can't even remember what exactly happened. All I know is that I wanted to downshiftwhen I was at the top of the yard and it just wasn't happening.I might have been pulling the thottle at the same time, causing a problem obviously, I had the clutch in, but I was still going might fast and was headed towards the side of the garage. My father, when he heard the problem for the downshift, ran out and started waving his arms. When I was coming towards him, I paniced and forgot everything- killswitch, brake, everything. Yet when you are in that state of mind, isn't is amazing how you can put together a full sentence? I saw my father and first thought "Oh no, I'm my brother all over" (because my brother and dirtbikes don't mix) (story for another day) and then "What does he think he's doing? I'll run him over!" I then hear my cousin J yell "She's going to hit the garage!" which in my mind replied "No, that's just silly". In less than a second I was in the gravel driveway, remember that, gravel driveway, and was headed straight for the parked truck and the parked car that I drive. As I was speeding towards the defensless vehicles I just made an immediate desicion: I'm laying the bike down." Simple as that. Sure, I didn't it the cars, and I am thankful that I didn't, I was practially a foot from the bumper of the car, and I did a good job of laying the bike down, but I took the beating.

First imfamous words out of my mouth: "I'm alright- get the bike off me!" I said that so hastly for fear of getting burned by the exhaust pipe, which was on the other side, but I didn't know that at the time. J pulled me out and I sat there shaking from what just happened. Boom, boom, boom, on the ground and suddenly really sore. I first noticed how much my legs hurt, not my arm, or foot, but my legs ached, yes no blood. I waddled my way into the bathroom and slowly took off my jeans that were destoryed to say the least as the gravel popped out of my shirt and dirt fell on the floor. Now people have been asking me "Why didn't you have riding gear on?" which leads me to add this disclaimer- I was in the yard and I live in the country. I wasn't trying out for the new motocross 2005 season or anything like that, it was just a happy, wholesome ride around the yard that turned into a thrill and spill. I did have a helmet on though, it's crazy not to wear one.

My injuries include the following: a deep cut on the ankle from a footpeg or something of that kind (somewhat of a mystery), road rash on my legs, hands, stomach, and hip, close to 3 hematomins (big bruise filled with blood), and a slice in my forearm along with little ones in the same place to keep it company. It was a good beatin'!

My father was amazed that someone would get so beat up in one incident. I then soaked in Epson salts to pull out the dirt that was incased in all the wounds on my body. I've been soaking religiously in Epson salts everday since then to alieviate the swelling and heal up the wounds faster. Epson salts are great, it's like the ducktape of medicene- you can use it for sprains and swelling, as a laxative, and even as a fertilizer for your houseplants and lawn. Pick up a bag for only $2.05 at a Wal-Mart nearest you (which shouldn't be too hard).

At first, mother uttered the evil word I didn't want to hear at all "stiches" but she told me we'd wait and see how things turned out in the morning and if the wounds on the arm and foot were healing. Thankfully, they healed enough and there was no trip to the ER to sit in agony with all the other daredevils.

I spent the rest of that Sunday in bed, and as much time off my feet. I made my wasy down the stairs once that night and knew there would be problems returning to school. I live on the 4th floor. Yes, four ever-lovin flights of stairs to climb at least 6 times a day. When I came back, I had climbed 4 and was exhausted. Sure, I wanted to join kickboxing yesterday and get back in shape, but it's hard to do when you're banged up like a civil war drum.

I tried to solve the stair climbing dilemma by going to the front desk and asking if I could have an evelvator pass. See, the elevator in all other residence halls is free of service to all students, with or without a disability. Here at Rose, the elevator is for stictly for those who have a key, and the key comes from the Reslife office accompanied by a doctor's excuse from your physician from HOME. "I just came from there you idiots!" I thought in my head. I almost burst into tears as the people at the front desk turned me down. They told me they wish they would give me the key, but no cigar, not allowed. I did cry, as I climbed back up the stairs with my friend M, because I knew there would be more than walking to class- there would be stairs, taking them one step at a time knowing each step is pain, one way or the other.

Getting into bed is difficult, but with time it can be done properly. The first night I tried getting into my bunk I landed on my arm as I got to the top, which resulted into a 5 mintue crying session and phone call to my friend K from the Potter's House in order to have someone to talk to, roomie wasn't around, and I wanted to be home in my bed with my mother wrapping my bandages.

Walking to class does take longer, no doubt. But this sudden change of speed has given me time to observe rather than hustle off to the room, then to class, then to eat, and so forth. Now I have plenty of time to watch the people around me, see those I do know, and even have longer telephone conversations with friends.

I also see what great friends I have here in Edinboro. The girls at the Potter's house have been tending to me as they clean up the wound, wrap up my arm, and pour the water for the baths at their house this week in order to soak in a bathtub that works and is santitary. Other friends that don't live at the PH are so very helpful and generous, I am very touched and would like to thank them for their prayers and help. I can't recall being so bandaged and bruised like this before. At times I feel like I'm being a baby about the whole thing, I've been called a wuss before, multiple times over and over, and I'm sure some people think I am a wuss, but as my good friend R put it, "You can't measure what pain is to someone. For instance a migrain to one person may be a 10 whereas to another it might be a 2".

So, that might be why I haven't posted for the past couple days. I will someday ride again- I don't want to be afraid. This is a learning experience. If there is one thing I have learned, it's this one word: KILLSWITCH. Never going to forget that one. I'll post later ya'll, for now it's a trip the the PH for my evening soak and gradual shift to the weekend. Slow and steady wins the race!

Damage Report

Not for the faint of blood :(