"I have a dream..."

At last! My subconcious has provided me with a dream decent and interesting enough for public consumption. Well, I suppose you will have to judge if it really is that interesting--it was to me.

I was in a house I have never been to before, and apparently this house was ours. I can remember a great deal of the layout--in fact I drew the floor plan on graph paper this morning. There was a hall-way with two doors on one wall. These were Anna's bedroom door and my own bedroom door. (Yes my own room at long last!) My mom, Anna, Mark, and myself lived in this house, which had a large kitchen by the way. I remember all of us saying that when Nathan came home it would be such fun showing him our new house--and what a shock to him it would be! Ben was there with Kylee. I remember that she had run off somewhere into the kitchen I think, and Ben had asked me where she was. I couldn't locate her for some time because the sound of her voice seemed to be coming from several different places. But in the end, there she was in the kitchen, playing on the floor while Mom was cooking dinner on the stove. I remember being quite annoyed because as usual my room was a huge mess and Anna's stuff was taking up my space.

If you're still reading, then you must have nothing else to do--for anybody besides myself it must seem rather dull. Oh well--perhaps someday my dream maker will crank out something thrilling for you. Till then, you shall have to be content with my agravating and unceasingly dull periodicals.

grumbling

A few nights ago, I had decided that my life was pretty pathetic. Yeah, I was really bummed. Don't ask me why. I guess it was just one of those days when you let your guard down and Satan comes marching in. I vocally ranted and raved to my poor family--complaining about everything from "I need a job" to "I'm dying without a car" to "My wardrobe stinks". It was a real humdinger. I can just imagine my silly voice whining away like the mice on Cinderella. Ach!

That night as I attempted to sleep these poor, pitiful thoughts continued to roll through my mind. In vain I strived to relax and let go of it all. And then...enlightenment! I remembered back to last year when I had researched the life of Martin Luther. I had read then that this great reformer had many times gone into severe depressions, seemingly worried about everything under the sun. His resourceful wife, Katherine Von Bora had put on mourning clothes and a vale. She put a handkerchief to her eyes and wept sorrowfully. When doctor Luther came home that day, he naturally asked her why she was so sad and she replied with something like this:

"I am sad for the good God in heaven has died!"

The dear doctor got the point and so did I. If I may quote a movie: "God is in His heaven, all is well with he world." So why are we complaining??? We have every reason to be joyful in every curcumstance of our lives!

Pierced! (for better or for worse)

Its gone! Its done!
-Frodo

My time came at last exactly nine days ago. And now I have but only thirty-three days and nights before these silly studs can come out. It seems an absolute age, but no doubt when all that time has passed I'll be so attached to them that I won't be able to part with my constant companions...

Jenna is being a good girl and using the prescribed dissinfectant consistantly three times a day--I'm afraid I haven't been as consientious as she. But I don't think that infections or sensitive ears run in my family so...or is that hereditary?

If you must know, I'll tell you that I almost chickened out. Yes shocking isn't it? Me, a pillar of resolve and determination...uh, ha ha, that was a little joke. My dear Auntie picked numbers to see who should go first and what do you know? I chose the exact number! What a coincidence!! But I squared my shoulders, climbed onto a VERY tall chair, and sat like a statue as the lady with the gun prepared for the operation. I told myself that this was no big deal--people do this everyday don't they? But as soon as the dissinfectant-soaked cotton balls touched my lobes, I suddenly told myself that I was the biggest sucker in the universe and that this woman no doubt was going to butcher me right then and there. Irrational, but understandable I believe. I recited in my mind, "You are NOT a coward, you ARE not a coward, YOU are not a coward...". I sat stiff and straight as a statue and felt the sudden sting with a couragious, crusader-like expression on my face. And then it was over. My frame relaxed as I said mildly, "Ow." And then I promptly began laughing histerically. Thankfully there was only family present, for I am sure that I presented an accurate picture of pathetic woman-kind.

As with most events in my life, something so thought on, and meditated and worried over, was over in an instant and left me wondering what it was I was so afraid of...

-simple pleasures-

Well, maybe its a silly pleasure.

But if you were 17 and had waited ALL you life for this one very trivial delight, then you would be excited too.

Its a tradition in my family for all the girls to have their ears pierced on their seventeenth birthday. It all started with my oldest sister Rachel--actually I should say it was Sarah's idea.

It was fourteen years ago and Rachel was turning seventeen. Before this time nobody in my family had really thought about ear piercing or anything else piercing. But my second sister Sarah, in a fit of sisterly affection, decided it was time to work her wily ways on my mother and succeeded in convincing her to allow Rachel to have the deed done. Of course that meant the Sarah could do it the very next year...

And so it has remained from that time forward--once the precident had been set, ALL the Reimers girls simply HAD to do it. And ever since then and all my life I have looked forward to that glorious day when I at last would cross the border into pierced existance.

But as you all know, my birthday was three months ago now. So of course you must be quite curious to know why in the world I haven't gone for it yet. Well, one of my boon companions is my cousin, Jenna and her family has set the piercing date for sixteen. And since waiting only a few months would allow me to share this momentous occasion with her, I couldn't resist (besides, we had planned to do it that way since we were BABES).

So now I have but a few more days to wait until my moment comes, and the needle plunges through my time-prepared earlobe. No, I'm not nervous. Who said anything about being nervous?