+ On Friday, I submitted my an article to the final round of the application process for a journalism program. I was really excited until I read over my submission and noticed three mistakes. This is what happens when you work between three different word processing programs, copy and paste and then fail to review your work because you’re so stressed out about deadlines and the possibility that the time difference between New York and Pennsylvania is 15 minutes. If I’m freaking out about an application process, I’d hate to see me when I’m actually working.
+ I really want to attend the Women of Purpose Conference in Hershey. I’ve never been to a women’s conference before, and I’d like to go before Alan and I move to Texas. Plus, Kari Jobe will be there. She sings “Revelation Song,” one of my favorite songs.
+ Speaking of Texas, Alan and I perused house listings in the Belton area a few nights ago. We’re still debating whether to live on- or off-post (as it would be cheaper and obviously closer to work for him), but one of the houses we really liked is within walking distance to the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. I had never even heard of this university before reading the house description, but not only does it offer undergrad courses in most of the subjects for which I am internationally certified to tutor (I’ve been toying with the idea of tutoring as a temporary side job), but it also has a graduate program in counseling/psychology (I’ve also been toying with the idea of earning my master’s degree in psychology)! Plus, UMHB is a Christian university. While we obviously need to pray for God’s wisdom and will in this situation, I’m torn between wanting to live near that campus (and possibly start earning my master’s) and wanting to live on base and save money.
+ why do my favorite childhood places always seem less amazing when i’m an adult? On Friday, Alan had a company picnic at Knoebels (kah-NO-buhls), a local amusement park. It was the first time I had been there in at least seven years.
After the picnic, we were able to ride a few of the rides before some serious rain hit and ended our day. We even jammed all four of us into a Tilt-A-Whirl car. How a 6′ 2″ man and a 6′ teen managed to squeeze in the car (especially as none of the guys are skinny, by any stretch of the word), I’ll never know. All I know is that the combined weight created so much force I was certain the car was going to fly off the track at least twice.
We also rode The Phoenix, my favorite wooden roller coaster (the bunny hops make me fly out of my seat to the point of making me fear I’ll seriously fly out of the car). I rode behind Alan and T, who later asked if it was me screaming on every hill. Yes. Yes, it was.
+ parade. On Saturday, we woke up early to go to the most amazing Fourth of July parade ever. It features a B-52 flyover before the parade, which is my favorite part.
My second-favorite are the re-enactors – there are some dressed in period uniforms from some major U.S. wars.
And the parade honors veterans from every war; some walk, some ride in vehicles. Either way, it’s very impressive to see so many from our area, considering the fact that we don’t have a large military presence.
The gentleman in the photo above is a veteran of the Korean War. He’s very active at the high school I attended, and I had the privilege of interviewing him about his experiences in the military.
Annie posted about a fun quiz titled “What punctuation mark are you?” Punctuation rocks.
I’m a question mark:
You seek knowledge and insight in every form possible. You love learning.
And while you know a lot, you don’t act like a know it all. You’re open to learning you’re wrong.
You ask a lot of questions, collect a lot of data, and always dig deep to find out more.
You’re naturally curious and inquisitive. You jump to ask a question when the opportunity arises.
Your friends see you as interesting, insightful, and thought provoking.
(But they’re not always up for the intense inquisitions that you love!)
You excel in: Higher education
You get along best with: The Comma