You gotta be tough to live in a Swamp. Just sayin'.

I just finished my Orange Carrot Sobe, and I immediately want another one. Who knew that Oranges and Carrots mixed together would be so yummy. I definitely didn't. Not to mention, it has this really cool gecko thing on it. Which, gecko's bring me to my first topic of conversation:

Swamp People:

Oh my goodness, I watched this show for the first time last night and it was crazy cool. There are like 20 teams of these guys (and gals, and 1 dog) who once a year hunt gators in the Bayou in Louisiana. I never thought I would like a show like this but I did. My favorite is their Cajun accents. And the gators too, I guess. But dude, these men (and women, and 1 dog) are tough. I guess you have to be tough to hunt and wrestle alligators. If I was gonna go to a swamp, I would want these guys (women, and 1 dog) to be my guide.

Onward.

It's raining like crazy here. I went to post office earlier, which brings me to my next topic of conversation.

Small Town People:

I grew up in the country. Grassy. Sunny. Nice air. But I haven't always liked it. I've been living here since I graduated college, (grew up here) I've gotten used to it again. People seem to take their time out here. Time passes slower. Most people are super nice. I talked to a guy (who was sweeping the floor) today at the post office that I had only seen once before and that was at the post office. We struck up a conversation as though we were long lost friends. He showed me a picture of his daughter and told me about where she was going to school and that he was going to to buy a car soon. He told me all kinds of stuff. Can I just say that I love striking up a conversation with someone I don't really know, like waitresses or a postman or Kevin Costner. (haha, just kidding about the last one. But I really wish I could strike up a conversation with that man. I wonder how that would go?)

Well, that's all for today, I reckon. (Had to put on my small town accent.)

Going home now. Gotta watch out for the zombies.

See ya'll in the funny papers.

Erin.

Nostalgia and God

I found this post in my Drafts Folder and thought I would throw it up here. I had forgotten about all of this. It's amazing how you can sometimes forget about the valley you had gone through when you are climbing to the top of the mountain again. I just know that God takes care of everything. Even though we don't think so at the time.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
-Romans 8:28

11/4/10
---
So here I am again. I'm sitting in this old, black computer chair once more, writing about my life and sending it into the vast, world wide web for random people to read. There are so many emotions and thoughts bouncing around in the confines of my head that I just can't process it all. I feel that if I don't get this all out then I will explode! Where do I even begin?

About a month ago, I went to visit my two best friends in the whole world. On the way there, I found myself with windows down, cool wind blowing through my hair and music from The Fray relaxing me. That alone brought on a rush of Nostalgia. The Fray: College. Cool air of Autumn: College. Classes. Friends. Windows down: College. Friends. Community. Lots of et cetera's. I usually love it when I get these bursts of Nostalgia but, for some reason, I couldn't help but feel sad. I miss college: Classes and Chapel. I miss friends: I took for granted that I got to see them every day. I miss a lot of things.

My disease is troubling me. I have found solace in a friend who has a similar (almost exact) condition. When I need help figuring out why I feel sick for no reason, he helps. When I wake up I usually have dreadful nausea, until I take my medicine. Then I usually feel okay. If not, there's always the Pepto. It can definitely be frustrating when trying to find a job or plan a mission trip. If I feel the slightest bit sick, the stress begins. Then I have to calm myself down, because the stress makes me sick.

But through all of this, I haven't forgotten God. Through the sadness and joy; Through the heartaches and love, I have grown closer to God. Even with hardly any money and me living with my parents, I have found that God provides. Even when I'm so sick, and I just feel like crying in a corner, I praise God anyway. This is my life. Whether I'm sick or feeling well. Whether I'm in a foreign land or in Tennessee, God is in control.
---

Wow, back to the present (4/13/2011) now. I haven't been sick in months (sick as in no more everyday nausea. I still have my disease.) I used to dread mornings and now I don't! I used to think that I wouldn't make it to the mission field. I am in the process now of getting to the mission field. My loans are getting paid off little by little. Life is good. Life is awesome! Life is swell!

See ya in the funny papers!

Erin.

Preparing for missions

Hello Friends, Family and random stranger!

I thought I'd give an update on my life right now. As most of you already know, I am preparing for a mission trip, and I'm hoping to leave by August 2011. I have been praying everyday about this trip; for God to prepare me, mentally, physically and spiritually. The place I am thinking and praying about has very extreme terrain, (Mount Everest and the Himalaya's) and I don't want to be caught out there without exercise. This isn't set in stone or anything, but I am thinking about calling Nepal my home for 2 years. (or however long God wants me there) They have a lot of ministries going on in Nepal right now, like: trekking(backpacking and distributing Christian literature), Friendship evangelism, Working with street kids, Teaching English, working with children and youth, Working in the Slums, Prison Ministry, etc.

All of this really excites me, and I just wanted to tell you all about it! I love you all.

Peace.

Erin.

Catching the wind

Sea water splashes against the side of my white sailboat as I get my bearings and steer her south-ward to the Caribbean. Traveling at 6 knots, I feel like I will make it to Bermuda all in good time. The wind blows back my hair, and I pull it into a tight pony tail. The bright blue canvas above me stretches far into the horizon, and I look out at where the sea and sky collide. I can see fins rising up out of the water just off the starboard bow. The dolphins jump alongside my boat for a while until they venture back under the waves and disappear completely. I check my compass again to make sure I'm still on course and then look back out at the horizon. No land in sight. I go below to the galley, quickly make a PB&J and return to the deck to grab the helm.

A few hours pass and the sun gradually dips itself into the sea. A full moon is glowing above me now and the billions of stars twinkle in the blackness. I wander down into the cabin again and check my map. Thirty nautical miles until I would reach Bermuda. I glanced at the clock above the table and it reads, 8:00pm. When I get back to the deck, I watch the black ocean below, feeling a twinge of fear at the thought of a storm making the wind violent instead of calm as it was now. I pulled my jacket on over my head and began thinking about how beautiful Bermuda would be when I arrived and placed my feet on her sandy beach.

Hours passed and the only sound came from the waves below. The wind was chilling, my face cold from the salty splashes of ocean. The sails flapped and then suddenly stopped moving. I grabbed the edge of the sail and moved it back and forth. Nothing. I wanted so badly to reach Bermuda tonight, and it didn't look as though it would happen. My small sailboat bobbed like a message in a glass bottle thrown to sea. I walked to the bow and leaned out, looking at the cold water below me. My eyes drifted up and out. And that was when I saw it; the faint lights of Bermuda. I quickly jumped up and ran down into the cabin to make sure it wasn't a cruise ship that I had seen. When I had confirmed that my position was indeed correct, and that I was looking at Bermuda, I ran down to the engine room to start my diesel. It sputtered a few times and then wouldn't sputter at all.

I went back to the stern of the boat and sat down near the helm, watching and waiting. I thought over and over in my head, "Please, please. Just a little wind. Come on you can do it, wind." I sat, hoping for wind and watching Bermuda's distant lights, imagining a festival in Saint George's. Thirty minutes had passed when I finally felt a breeze. I walked to the mainsail and pulled it back. My sails flapped and finally filled themselves with the surplus of wind. I was off again heading for the lights in the distance and for adventure.



(This is what I think about almost all the time. These are my daydreams. If I'm looking up stuff on you-tube, it's about sailing. Sailing, sailing, sailing. Living simply. I know you guys think I'm crazy and maybe I am to a certain extent. Just thought I'd share my daydream with the world. -Erin)

A Sunday Evening Ride

As I drifted into sleep, I could hear my dad's yell echo through the confines of my mind.

"Erin!"

My eyes blinked open and then lazily fell shut again. It felt like seconds had passed.

"Erin, wanna go for a ride on the bike?"

I opened my eyes again and sat upright. The black Playstation controller was on my belly; Final Fantasy XII paused on the TV before me. I flipped the button on the back of the machine and the green light vanished. I pulled on a pair of jeans and some shoes and made my way outside to the white Honda Goldwing in the yard. We shoved on our helmets, climbed on the bike and rode down the winding ridge to the main road that went to town.

The air was hot as we drove over a green bridge; the cool lake looking lovely below. The sky was bright at 5pm, a sign of summer, and I could pick out figures in the clouds. Babe Ruth with his baseball cap on. A dog. A devil. Castles in the clouds. We cruised along the curvy road, just following wherever it led us.

"Whoa! Big curve!" my dad yelled as he quickly tapped the breaks. I looked up, my stomach burning. All the excitement and nervousness of that curve was bundled inside of me as I gripped the arm rests. I imagined us sliding across the asphalt; both of our legs pinned under the bike, the thick jeans and skin scrapping away under the road. It stung. I grabbed my stomach as we passed the curve safely and continued onward.

We stopped on the side of the road to look at the water falls at the state park. I saw a man sitting on the rock fence taking pictures of the water in the gorge below with his red camera. My dad and I walked to the overlook.

"How's it going?" asked my dad, standing next to the man with the camera. He said hello back and we all talked about how pretty the park was compared to the others in Tennessee. He was coming back from a visit with his girlfriend in Atlanta and was visiting all the parks on his way back home.

"A lot of people think that Fall Creek Falls is the best park around, but I think this one is the prettiest and most fun," said the man.

"Yeah, I agree," said my dad. "Let's not tell anyone though. I like this park without all the traffic."


Cliff divers were standing below and we watched curiously. Two guys and a girl looked as though they were inspecting the height of the cliffs and the depth of the water. We all yelled to them together:

"You can do it!"

"Jump! Jump!"

"Come on!"

They all looked up at us and gave us a thumbs up. The first boy ran and jumped into the icy water. The second boy followed and then swam under the waterfall. The girl stood still at the top of the cliff. We clapped and waited for the girl. It took her a while to get her nerve, but we cheered her on and she finally jumped. We clapped again, said goodbye to the man we had met and got back on the bike.

We rode on down to the next town over until we found a yellow Waffle House. We went in and met Sarah, our waitress. We all talked about our jobs and the bike and found out that we knew a lot of the same people, which is what happens in a small town. We ate our chicken melts and drank our five glasses of sweet tea before heading outside to the bike. Sarah was on her break, and she sat down on the sidewalk to smoke. We talked some more before she had to go back inside, when three older ladies walked by, one saying how much she would love to go on a bike road trip. She had never been on a bike before and looked at it with longing eyes.

"I can take you for a ride if you want," said my dad.

She just shook her head and continued to tell us about the people from her church who had bikes, and one man who had an Indian bike. When they went inside, we put our helmets back on and climbed on the bike.

"We've met a lot of nice people today," I said.

"Yeah, there's still a lot of good people in the world," said my dad, gripping the handles and getting us back to the road.

The sun was setting, turning the sky red, pink and purple. Clouds streaked across the canvas and the light blue sky soon faded to black. A small crescent moon emerged along with a single star. I could see the lightening bugs now, slowly blinking in the fields along side us. It was cooler now, darkness enveloping us as we made our way into the valley ahead. The hills rose up from the earth on both sides of us. I could hear the bike's engine accelerate as it pulled itself up the steep hill. We would be out of the valley soon and climbing up to the top, to the ridge, where our brick house stood, lights on and waiting.

Hiking at 6 am

4am. My alarm clock buzzed loudly, and my hand came down on the snooze button hard. I rolled back over next to my dachshund, Aubey, (named after the Auburn Tigers) and pulled the covers over my head. I listened. My sister wasn't awake yet. A few more minutes of sleep.

My alarm buzzed loudly again. 4:20 am. I could hear my sister now, walking through the hallway. My door squeaked open and she groggily said, "Time to get ready." I touched my feet to the cold, wooden floor and rubbed my eyes. "Okay," I said, leaving Aubey under the comforter.

The house was dark. Mom and dad were still sleeping as we pulled on our clothes and packed our new Army bags with supplies. Hailey packed her bag with band aids, gauze and tape. "I'm going to be the medic," she said. I nodded and bit down on the blueberry pop tart I was holding.

It was 5am when we got into my car. We threw our bags in the back seat, and I drove down our gravel driveway and onto the twisting ridge. Hailey took my Tom Petty CD from its case and put it in the player. Breakdown. We sang along as we drove through our ghost-like town, passing three cars on the way to the state park. The wind was cool as it passed through the windows, rustling our hair.

It was foggy and crowd-less when we got to the park. I drove into a gravel parking lot and the car door grunted open. We put on our bags and sprayed ourselves down with bug spray. The sunblock we had packed wasn't needed. The sign at the start of the trail said 3 miles and we took off excited about our morning hike.

During the first five minutes of our hike, both of us started scratching the top part of our legs. We talked through what could have happened to make us itch that bad and we decided that it couldn't have been poison ivy or oak, an allergic reaction to the bug spray or bug bites. We continued down the winding trail, that followed the river, trying desperately not to scratch our red legs. To keep our minds off of the itch we started singing camp songs and random, half made up songs like, " A hiking we will go. A hiking we will go. Hi ho the derry-o a hiking we will go." When we reached the end of the trail and had sang through a dozen or so camp songs, our legs stopped itching. It was miraculous.

The gorge was next. At 7am we started our hike down the hill to the water. Boulders the size of cars were piled up next to the river and we immediately began climbing up and over them, making our way to the water. As we climbed, I found a small pool of muddy water, reached in, and cupped a tad-pole in my hand. It squirmed around, and I released it back into its small home.

"Let's try to cross," I said. Hailey agreed and we looked for a safe path. When we found a path of small boulders in the river, we took off our shoes, tied them to our bags and tried to get to the other side. The water was frigid when I dipped my foot in and touched the nearest slimy rock. When I felt steady, I slowly moved to the next one, teeth clenched. My sister was behind me, and I stopped to help her. "Grab my hand," I told her. She shook her head. The current was swift and the rocks were slippery. The water was freezing and if either of us were to fall in we would be washed downstream. "I can't do it," she said, watching the water. I reached my hand out to her. "Yes, you can." Hailey got her courage up and reached for the green rock, clinging to it. I tried to continue forward but the current was strong, the water was deep and the gap was long. We turned back and as Hailey started for the rock before her, her bag fell into the water. "No!" she yelled, quickly grabbing it back up. She threw it to the dry rocks, and I followed. When we were both dry, we decided that we wouldn't try it again.

We backtracked toward the trail that would lead us back to the top of the hill until we saw four water falls in the distance. "Look!" I said, pointing at the falls. We climbed over the rocks, the morning sun brushing lightly against our skin. When we reached our destination it looked just like I would envision a paradise. The falls poured over the water carved rocks and into the cold river below. We made our way behind the fall and stood, looking out at the river and the forest beyond it. When we had our fill, we trekked back up the side of the hill and climbed inside my little car. I turned the key and Tom Petty's voice filled the car again. Runnin' down a dream. And we sang along as I drove the winding road back to the town that was just waking from their slumbers.

Speaking of Peace, Love and Rock and Roll...

Tom Petty. Bob Dylan. Stevie Nicks. Led Zeppelin. Creedance Clearwater Revival.

These are only a few of my favorite Rockers. They make me happy. Why am I writing about this, you ask? I have no idea. I just thought it would be fun. Not that anyone cares, but I'm going to see Tom Petty and ZZ Top in concert. I'm super stoked! It's not until August, but I'm already freaking out. It's going to be awesome!

Alright enough of that. So, right now I'm supposed to be looking for a job. But it's just so frustrating! I'll be looking up jobs and then start looking up writing and photography jobs and THEN I start wishing that I could be a photographer for National Geographic. Ahhh. Now that would be awesome! Then I think "I have no idea how to get into something like that," and I begin clicking the Back button on my computer until I'm back to where I was before, "Secretary position available." I mean, how exciting is that?

Speaking of work. I'm not loving my retail job. It's boring. Not to mention all the yelling for no reason thing. GAH! I can't wait to quit.

I feel like right now my life is so boring! Not exciting at all. One day when my life starts to get exciting, I hope I don't decide that my life is still boring, if that makes sense....

Anyway, just a small complaint and a few other things.

I'm off to play Trouble with my family.

See ya friends.

See ya void.

Erin.