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Showing posts from May, 2013

Healing in the Heartland

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I attended the best concert of my life last night with Megan. The event had it all: good music, eye candy, talented artists, but, best of all, the generous spirit of not only Oklahoma, but America. You may have caught Healing in the Heartland on NBC for an hour last night. If so, you were a part of blessing Moore and the tornado victims of the May 20th disaster.  Blake Shelton, the Oklahoman with a heart the size of Texas, put together this incredible event and kicked off the night with the hit "God Gave Me You." Darius Rucker was up next with "True Believers." I'll see you in a few short days on June 8th, Mr. Rucker. Thanks for swinging by early! Rascal Flatts played a song that truly spoke to the victims. "I Won't Let Go" talks of "a storm that cut a path" and of people who "will stand by you." Miranda Lambert teared up during her performance of "The House that Built Me." Ryan Tedder of OneRepublic broke up the cou

Nathan.

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Often referred to as NH when I mention him here, I've known Nathan Honaker since I was in 4th grade. He truly is one of my life-long best friends, despite the heartbreak that we put each other through in turn. It all started in 5th grade, maybe with a yes or no note? The details escape me. We had a good three day run. He moved away to Greenville, SC for our sixth grade year and I didn't really notice his absence. Probably too preoccupied with a crush on a guy that barely knew I existed. But, seventh grade year was a different story. He came back to Raleigh. And promptly started dating a different girl. Cool, Nate. We spent time together on the cross country team and formed a friendship through running and our Bayleaf Baptist church connection. I played Yahtzee at his house one evening with both of our siblings and watched him and Oakes battle it out in Ping Pong. The summer after seventh grade he moved into a house in my neighborhood, approximately 2.5 miles away. Convenie

An Affair of the Hartsock: Episode One

The Girl: Desiree Hartsock's season of the Bachelorette began last night and I had the privilege of watching her meet the 25 guys with Susan and Megan and gummy worms. What more can a girl ask for to kick off a journey of roses? A bottle of wine? Next week. Des took a tour of the Malibu bachelorette pad, a strong contrast to the tent she grew up in. 60 seconds into the show and she already had tears running down her face in a monologue. She cries about the Sean break up, but yet she's ready to love again? That's totally the healthy emotional response of a girl who's over her ex. Chris Harrison handed over the keys to a baby blue convertible that she slowly drove to the beach to avoid mussing her brunette locks. Once sandside, Des rollerbladed on the boardwalk and chased seagulls in between casual outfit changes while Andy Grammer's "Crazy Beautiful" played in the background. Go buy his song; I haven't regretted it yet. Worn out from holding her

Katherine and Caroline

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I hope it's not cheating to combine two people in one post and pass it off as one person. I cannot narrow the influential people in my life to only 21 measly individuals. Katherine and Caroline Nelson are my two blood cousins and I absolutely love them both. Katherine is 6 months younger than me, but about 2 feet shorter, while Caroline is about 2 years younger than me, but probably 2 feet taller. They both live in New Orleans, one of my favorite cities in America, but I don't get to visit them nearly as much as I'd like. Of course, now that I have my own set of wheels I can change that pretty quickly. I'm hoping to hug both of their necks in early July at a family reunion in Illinois.  They both have dreams in the medical field, majoring in that crazy Biology subject. I got a 1 on the AP Biology exam so unfortunately those science smarts don't run in the family. I go through spurts of time with both of them where we will talk often, and then others where th

A Very Broken Girl: Week Seven

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I'm full of excuses for why Dr. Townsend's book still remains closed on my bedside table, the number one reason being that I have been steadily working through my online History of Jazz class. I did attend a counseling appointment this week and she asked me difficult questions about resentment and forgiveness. I mostly sat in sullen silence when she brought those sensitive topics up.  I am a self-seeker at heart. Forgiveness is a strictly self-less activity, because it is essentially saying that the injury does not matter.  My goals for this summer include other people. I wouldn't say that these goals are self-seeking necessarily, but they are self-generated, which likely means I am putting what I value ahead of the equally valid values of my counterparts.  I typically think of myself as a sympathetic and considerate individual. But sometimes those qualities only extend to how they benefit myself. Seeking selflessness is an ongoing battle for A Very Lucky Girl.

Beignet.

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This might be cheating because Beignet Gibson Arceneaux is my baby canine. Except I guess she qualifies as a full grown dog now that she is NINE years old. However, she still acts more like a 7 month old puppy. Up until my 6th grade year, the only pet that had graced the Arceneaux household was a fish that lived for three days. Oakes and I asked a few times for a dog, but the answer was always no. I'm still not sure what changed in that year for "dog" to become part of Sharbear and Paul's vocabulary, but one Saturday afternoon we all piled into the car for a trip to PetSmart to gawk at the Second Chance Adoption dogs. After talking Paul out of a pit bull, we fell in love with Beignet, then named Arwin. She had a buddy named Frodo. Rescued from a puppy mill sometime in December, she entered our family around April-ish. Her foster owner dropped her off with a caution that it could take some time to change her name. False. She answered to Beignet almost immediately--

Justin&Sarah

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Justin Buchanan and his wife Sarah entered my life when I was in the 6th grade living in Raleigh, North Carolina. Justin was the middle school youth pastor at BayLeaf Baptist church and he still remains the best youth pastor I've ever had. Famous for his pranks and silly shenanigans, he still made sure that we were constantly growing and learning in our faith. My first youth group trip at BayLeaf was the winter ski trip as a 6th grader trying to fit in with all of the macho 8th graders. We caravaned to South Carolina in stereotypical church vans and stayed in giant rooms with multiple bunk beds. I don't remember whether I was selected or if I volunteered for the chopstick game, but either way I found myself blindfolded and then led into an ominously dim room. I took a seat in a metal folding chair, face-to-face with Justin, with the rest of the youth group behind me, and a set of oversized chopsticks in my hand. After Justin swiped warpaint on my cheeks I learned the rules

Restoration Begins With US.

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I'm sure most of you know by now that an F4 tornado ripped through the city of Moore, Oklahoma, approximately 15-20 miles south of me and my family yesterday afternoon. I feel almost guilty to have a safe family and an intact house. It's devastatingly hard to find words to cover such a tragedy. People have endless opinions and voice them without thinking (i.e. Westboro Baptist...) and right now words aren't the answer for Moore and the surrounding areas.  It has never been truer that Actions speak so much louder than any condolences. Prayer is important, don't discount that in what I'm saying. But words aren't going to  bring back the perished people. Words aren't going to clean up the damage.  If you're like me you might be broke as a joke. Kevin Durant just pledged 1 million dollars to the relief efforts, how am I supposed to compete with that?  But my measly $25 to the relief and restoration fund at Lifechurch  will certainly be something. And a

Sharbear.

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"... she rejoiced as only mothers can in the good fortunes of their children ." -Louisa May Alcott I should probably begin this tribute to these certain 21 influential people in my life with a post dedicated to the woman who experienced labor in order for the world to experience me. If you're about those Thank-You notes I can provide an address for her upon request. Shari Nelson Arceneaux and I have a running joke about what a "good mother" would do (which is typically the opposite of what actually happens). It came from a novel that we both read that I can't remember the name of now. But my good mother instilled a love of reading in me from a very young age. I can remember being put to bed with visions of Laura Ingalls Wilder and Anne of Green Gables swirling through my imagination. She taught me how to make the essentials in the kitchen: spaghetti, spicy pretzels, and ultimate chocolate chip cookies.  She's one of my biggest cheerleaders and the b

A Very Broken Girl: Week Six

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Don't even ask me about Townsend's book. Please. I've been trekking around Texas this week and it has been WONDERFUL. But it also means that I haven't had (or made) the time to read his words.  But I'm still working through the words of Jesus and this week focuses on "Love does not dishonor others." I actually got out my handy dandy dictionary app to see what the complete definition of "dishonor" is because when I think dishonor, all I can think is:  The definition in my head had more to do with "do not insult" others, which is partially true. But it means even more than that. I can dishonor somebody by having a poor reputation. If I have a poor reputation, then the people that associate themselves with me are disgraced. It was enlightening to learn that love is more than being kind and not hurting others. Love is about recognizing that my decisions have an impact on my immediate world. Love is a lifestyle.  A Very Lucky Girl des

The 21 Project

By my expert calculations, my twenty-first birthday is a mere 45 days away. It seems like it's taken a lifetime to get here. Weird how that works, right? I didn't make it to 21 all by my lonesome though. There are at LEAST 21 people (or pairs/groups of people) that have contributed positively to the person that I am/will be during my 21st year of life. So I plan to highlight them in the next 45 days by posting about a singular person approximately every other day. People you can expect to read about in the next few weeks (in no particular order) include: Nathan H Sharbear Paul Mimi (and Grandpa Butch) Mimi and Didi Aunt Blanche Katherine and Caroline Emily B Megan H and Hannah W Moriah C Tyler M Carra L/Grace J/Sam W/Stasia M Marianne W Beignet Robin C/Jeanett N/Marilyn H/Edna E (and other magnificent teachers) Justin/Sarah B Conner G my ADPi sisters Natasha A the brave parents that let me spend time with their kids (several babysitting endeavors) Savanna

Lifers: Blessed with Addison's Disease

Confession: Sometimes I feel truly blessed to have Addison's Disease. For one, it's fairly manageable, and for two (the best reason), I have met some amazing people through this connection! I use "met" loosely because I have yet to physically meet any of these women, but they all sound so wonderful on social media! And I hope one day I can hug each one and compare drug prescriptions and medical alert jewelry while swapping ER stories. Alycia: I found Alycia on Instagram when I scrolled through the hashtag #addisonsdisease last year. After wading through endless pictures of dogs (fun fact: dogs get Addison's Disease and I swear the world knows more about the canine disorder than the human one. Nope, not bitter), I stumbled upon a picture of a race to raise awareness for Addison's Disease. Being a runner, I was instantly intrigued and decided to creepily comment and ask Alycia about it. She informed me that it was in Australia, where she lives, so that was a

My Favorite Game

I have three favorite drinking games that I want to share with you. Obviously, when I say "drinking" I'm referring to water or sparkling grape juice since I'm not yet 21 (48 days--not counting or anything). First, the Bachelor/Bachelorette drinking game. Savannah helped come up with the rules for this one and they are as follows: Sip every time someone says "journey" or "amazing" Finish your drink if a contestant insists they aren't here to make friends Sip for every tear you see Gulp for every cheesy metaphor (i.e. "hiking up a mountain is like falling in love") Sip every time the main character references their previous season or relationships Sip for every rose handed out You get the picture and probably can add your own rules. Making them specific to a season is even more fun (i.e. for Emily Maynard's season we added drinking every time she referenced her deceased fiance or her daughter). My all-time favorite televi

A Very Broken Girl: Week Five

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I still haven't progressed beyond page 26 in Dr. Townsend's book, but now the entire summer stretches before me so I hope to make some headway in the next few weeks.  To be honest, I've been dreading week five of my love project. I hate this mandate. Let me rephrase, I hate hate hate double hate LOATHE ENTIRELY this requirement.  Love is not Proud. If you know me at all, I really do tend to give off an "I'm the $#!t" attitude. I know I'm really not. I'm probably, like, third on the totem pole of hot $#!t. Like there's Beyonce, then Cady Groves, and then me and Taylor Swift are tied.  Don't misunderstand, I'm insecure in a lot of ways. I think most everyone is. But I hate hate hate double hate LOATHE ENTIRELY being wrong. Cannot stand it. But the worst part of being wrong is when everyone knows I'm wrong. Because then my pride is injured.  You know what would solve this issue? If I didn't have a pride problem. It's okay

365 days

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early days One year. 52 weeks. 365 days. That's how long I've been dating Tyler. It hasn't been a year without any single heartache, but it's been a blessed year with the boy that I love.  The boy who attended kindergarden twice. The boy who speaks whale fluently. The boy who lets me slip my gum trash into his pockets and says, "your trash is my treasure, babe!" The boy who untangles all of his clothes before putting them in the washer (we differ here, I throw the whole lot in and wish for the best). The boy who refuses to eat the crumbly bottom bag bits of chips The boy who remembers movies so well, even minute details and quotes, so that sometimes I'm left wondering, "did we just watch the same movie?" The boy who didn't understand different types of cheeses. Like the merits of Parmesan on pasta as opposed to a bag of 4 cheese Mexican. 6 months The boy who sings along to his music when he runs and plays air drums The boy wh

A Very Broken Girl: Week Four

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Confession: I haven't touched Dr. Townsend's book this week. Finals are looming and my brain would rather process episodes of HIMYM during downtime instead of big scientific words about what's wrong with my loving abilities. I did ponder an interesting phenomenon this week though. Have you noticed that love is a noun? Everyone talks about "love" as a verb, but "like" is also a verb, with less power. Love can stand alone as the topic of discussion, unlike "like."  I haven't quite figured out what that says about love, but it's probably worth thinking over. Week Four is "love does not boast." sorry about my nasty veins In a world of insecurity, it's comforting to boast in what I have or have accomplished that someone else lacks.  But an attitude of boastfulness alienates the One who provided me with the talents to meet a goal or the material blessings I am privileged to own.  As finals wind down A Very Lucky Girl

All Good Things Must Come to an End

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And fortunately, so do all bad things. This semester reigns as the worst semester of my college career. Too many emotions for one 20 year old girl to handle with aplomb. Dead week is almost over and finals finally begin next week. I'll be OKC bound for the summer on Tuesday. 6 more nights.  To wrap up this academic semester, I had a few thoughts. First and foremost, S/O to everyone who thinks their major is harder than everyone else's. Everybody is busy. Especially this time of year. Your busyness is not special. I'll be happy to empathize with anyone, but don't expect sympathy from me. Prioritize your time; it will amaze you how you can fit school AND play into your schedule. #mindblown. I've heard dead week referred to as "I wish I was dead week," but I personally have had an excellent past few days.  Puppies visited the South Oval. There was a crowd around them all day long, but I managed to cuddle with two precious babies. I now have a serious case