So as a senior, I'm compiling a list of some of my favorite memories in college. I'll probably include them on here intermittently.

Sophomore year, I had just moved into the Pink House with Amy Bradley (now Grimme), Amanda Scott, Amanda Gentry, and Abby Anderson (now Perry). It had been raining all day, and was continuing into the night. Abby unfortunately was sick and already in bed. The rest of us decided that some fun needed to be had :).

So we piled into a car and made our way to the Texas A&M golf course where we proceeded to run rampant in the rain, through puddles and over nicely-mowed greens. During our adventure we saw a skunk, which AScott chased all the way to a bunch of shrubs, and I belly flopped (or actually face-planted) in a sand trap (which was filled with water, so I mistakenly thought it might be a pond....). I was actually dumb enough to try that little stunt again, resulting in a second equally painful face-plant.

The night ended with us racing back to the car, the only casualty being a couple of bruises from my mishap, and about 50 ant bites on Amanda Scott's legs.

I love college :).


I don't have a title yet, but this is a poem for/about my dear friend Renee

Laughter rings out in the distance strong and true.
It continues indefinitely -
Echoing across the wind,
The music carries without fading;
It is far-reaching as it travels
And penetrates ears to infect hearts with joy.

The joy is enduring and rich.
The source is surprising - a girl
Standing tall and thin, she does not hear the melody she sings.
Her sweet smile is somewhat sad and gives meaning
To the light in her eyes that mischeviously dances
With her soft, brown curls that get caught in the wind.

The cold wind wraps her flowing dress around her small frame.
It is as if she is frozen in time -
Waiting among the silent trees, speechless,
The deepest parts of her scream for warmth,
But sound is lost along the way
And what's left of her cry surfaces in hot tears.

The tears trace the lines of her face.
They are not in vain -
Carrying the silent screams of her heart,
They are warm rivers revealing a hidden source
Of heat that she does not see or understand,
But it slowly and steadfastly thaws her Spirit.

Her Spirit is learning what her laughter has always known.
She is free -
Trusting in the life-giving source in her soul,
She is not afraid, and boldly sings
The music from her heart she hopes to someday hear,
And she clings to this hope with faith.

This faith is unseen, but all around her.
It is slowly proving its presence -
Whispering Truth in her ear,
And softening her smile with its cool touch,
Her faith is not missing - it thrives.
After all, it is the wind that carries her laughter.