Auntie Em

So I don’thave any kids yet. Neither does my sister. I am a Christian and require that my childbearing be done in the bonds of marriage. To be honest with myself, if my relationship with Scott keeps heading in the direction it appears to be going in, having kids probably only a few short years off, but is it really soon? Not quite.

I have never been a “kid person”. I have done church ministry with kids for years and had a job working with children with autism. This wasn’t so bad… I like the interaction older kids provide. Babies? Not so much. They are so fragile, so needy. I didn’t like holding them, changing them, cleaning up after them… the job was so demanding. But after my friends started having babies, I began to feel my own personal attachment and affection growing for them. So maybe that maternal instinct people have swearing for years I have is kicking in? Maybe.

So back to the fact my sister Sarah and I are childless and I am liking kids more and more. My friends jokingkly started calling me these kiddos “aunt.” Well, hey, I don’t mind adopting this group of kiddos at all!

First off, I want to congratulate my good friend Melinda on the birth of her daughter Emma. Emma was born on Melinda’s birthday, September 22nd. Not only is she healthy, she is darling. I can’t wait to meet her!

Emma Jane

Next up is Avan, who is son to my best friend Jen S. I finally met this baby in July. When I came back in August, he remembered me! Avan is really fun because he is such a happy baby. He is almost always smiling or giggling. When he does fuss or cry, it doesn’t last very long. He is nine months old now, and the next time I see him, he will probably be walking.  Its hard to be away from this little guy. I like Utah, but I would love to watch him grow up.

Avan and Auntie Em at the Iowa State Fair

Some of my buggers are over the age of one,  though the mother of these next two kiddos is baking a bun due this spring.  We don’t know the baby’s gender yet, so I have settled on calling the baby Bradenbelle until we find out. (Its a combination of Braden or Isabelle, which are the names the mother has picked). My other best friend Jenni R is the mother two these litte rascals, Samantha and Gabrielle. If you check out Jenni’s blog, you can read about their exploits. I had the chance to sit for Sami and Gabi almost three years ago, when Gabi was only a few months old. Gabs was a tiny, sweet little baby with the cutest smile. Sami was pretty much a genius. Well, now Gabrielle is a spry, spunky three year old and Sami is a six year old first grader that is still pretty much a genius. I am pretty sure she has more common sense than your average teenager.

Left: Gabrielle. Right: Samantha

Not to be left out is my friend Racheal’s darling daughter Emma Grace (yes another Emma!) Emma is the same age as Gabi and is only a month older. I have never actually met Emma, but I look forward to seeing her in a few short weeks when I am a bridesmaid in her mommy Racheal’s wedding in Indiana November 7th. Here Emma is pictured with her future daddy Jason, who I think will be an amazing father for her.

Left: Emma, Right: Jason

So there you have it, my surrogate neices and nephews that I don’t get to cuddle often enough. Do any of you have special kiddos in your lives? They can be your kids, your friends kids, or relatives kids. Tell me about them!

Blog Surfing

There are some of us out there who enjoy reading a blog or two. And then there are those of us who are obsessed! (Zelzee? Jenni? I am looking at you.) We enjoy having peeks into lives of people different than us, or perhaps we enjoy reading theology, finance, gardening cooking or any other topic under the sun from a more down-to-earth perspective. Either way, people like me are always out on a look for new and interesting content. What does that lead to? Blog surfing!

I have found a few websites that make blog surfing much easier. You can use blogrolls and get reccomendations from blogs you already read. If your blog subscriptions feed into Google Reader, the system will suggest blogs that you can subscribe to based on what you already have subscriptions to. Blogger and WordPress both have blog surfing functions that will take you to a random blog.

I discovered two more websites that will pull random blog content as well.

http://www.alphainventions.com

and

http://www.condron.us

Both of these sites give you a quick peek at the main page of a blog. They both flash the content on your screen for a few seconds then jump to the next blog. Its like flipping through channels on the TV to decide what you want to watch. If you like what you see, you simply click on the blog and browse. If you don’t like what you see, wait a few minutes and it will jump to the next blog. If you are seriously bored, I suggest trying one of these two sites. It can be amusing.

In the meantime, I have a busy next few weeks. The youth group from Maranatha Baptist Church from Grimes, IA will be here this week to put on a Vacation Bibe School for my church. I am looking forward to this because the team is being led by one of my favorite professors from college, Dr. Paul Hartog. Its like a little slice of home coming to me! Kristin, one of my dearest friends, will be here next Friday. And July 2…. I will be heading back to the Iowa! I will make advid use of the new camera and try to blog often. They may be short, but I don’t want the long-winded updates that I gave after Christmas that took forever to finish. Tonight I will try to post a What In the World?… sorry I didn’t post one this week! In the meantime, enjoy blogsurfing… but try not to forget A Shot In The Dark!

Prayer Works

Please pray for my best friend Jenni’s dad. He was attending an eye appointment in Des Moines today, and he had a massive heart attack. He was rushed into emergency surgery at Iowa Methodist hospital, a short distance from the mall in which he had collapsed. One of his arteries was 100% blocked. After surgery, Rankins were told her dad would be released in three days. He has been given a slew of lifestyle changes, but it is completely of the sovereignty of God that he is live. We can be thankful for these things:

-His mother Elinor was with him, and was able to advise the receptionist of how to contact Jen’s mom. Elinor did not have Mrs. Rankin’s work number, but she was able to tell the receptionist her daughter-in-law had been there before for an appointment. After a name search, they discovered Mrs. Rankin;s work number and the receptionist made the call.

-Mr. Rankin was not alone and he was already in Des Moines. Had he been back on his farm in Panora, he would have died. Jenni’s family lives in the middle of nowhere, It would have been an hour before he could have been transported to a hospital. Otherwise…. he would be dead.

I received this text from Jenni, and I think her words are best spoken for themselves:

Dad had one main artery that was 100% blocked. They put in a stint in him and gave him blood thinners. He’s goin to be ok. Had he been alone when it happened he wouldnt be here.

What a startling fact. Had he been alone…. wow.

Just last night, I was re-reading this blog and this blog about Jen’s family. One made me laugh but the other made me concerned. Jen’s grandma Elinor has not been doing well, and she previously had no concern for God at all, and Jen’s dad is the same way. I felt burdened to pray for them. When I got ahold of Jen right after her message about her dad’s heart attack, I told her this. Today, when the family was waiting at the hospital, Elinor agreed to talk with a chaplain. In the past, she probably would have cussed and run the clergy off.

Maybe God is using this to soften their hearts to Himself.  Either way, please keep praying for them. Shortly after I heard the news from Jen, I called and texted friends all over the place, asking for prayer for her dad. In turn, my friends passed on the prayer request. In fact, I had a friend’s friend ask for an update on how Mr. Rankin was doing. I told Jen that people all over the country were praying for her family, and she was choked up. Despite all the pain and sadness Jenni has endured, I have never heard her cry. I think that the thought that strangers cared for her and her family meant alot.

Really, though, there are no strangers when you are adopted through Christ.

So let this be your lesson: Prayer doesn’t always get the results we want, but it does so much more. It pulls us to the heart of God. It pulls us closer to our loved ones, our brothers and sisters in Christ. Prayer truly binds us together, because intercessory prayer is an act of sacrificial love.

 

-

Tales of Igor

Shortly after my exit from college, I lost my position at an agency that provided assistance with children with autism. I loved this job, but by this time I was living on my own and student loans payments on the horizon. I was also without a vehicle, as I had recently been in a car accident and totaled my Bonneville. For a time, I tried to find nannying positions. I was nearly offered one working with a profoundly disabled child, but in the end lost my chance because the child’s mother thought I would hurt myself trying to carry her. With few other places to look, I started applying for an old and stable industry that always seems to have a high demand for warm bodies. (No, it wasn’t prostitution.)  I soon landed a position in collections with one of the major US financial giants.

First I worked in outbound collections in early-stage delinquencies, then I was moved to the inbound department. I tended to like inbound better, as I grew sick of being on a dialer and HATED calling business numbers. This department is also where I met my best friend, Jenni. It didn’t take me long to figure out in my new Inbound position that we often would have repeat callers. Seriously, some were so repeat that we came to recognize their voices. With one such customer, my friend Jenni didn’t go through the complete verification process before addressng the customer (since they had spoken a thousand times before) and got low marks on a call she had been monitored on. Soon, I had my own customer like this who claimed to have a very unique living situation. Due to his voice and supposed lifestyle, our Inbound department soon dubbed this man Igor.

Igor was a man who lived in Alabama at the time.  He spoke in deep, husky, hushed tones with a tiny drawl. Jenni thought his voice was a dead ringer for Frankenstein’s servant, so he got this name and it stuck, even traveling to our sister call center in Vancouver, Washington.  He was almost always whispering or mumbling in a typical Southern fashion. Many calls were similar. Almost on a daily basis, he would call to be updated on his account status. Dutifully, we would explain the level of delinquency, attempt to collect the debt, and he would respond why he was unable to pay. This, my friends is where the story got rich.

Igor claimed to be divorced from his wife. He stated they still lived together. S and her boyfriend J lived upstairs, and he lived in the basement. He advised us that he was her court-ordered slave. J would seize any money he made outside of the home at his job at a seafood restaurant called Captain D’s. Often, in the background you could disconcerting noises like dripping water and echos bouncing off of bare concerte walls. One time, a certian collector got into an in-depth discussion with Igor that was akin to a therapy session. She took detailed notes of he situation with S, J and Igor. She noted on the account such things like, “Advised our customer he needs leave. Advised he our customer he should get out of there. Asked he our customer if he had any place to go.”

It came to the point where I got Igor on the  phone myself. I was always very frank with him. I am not the sharpest pencil in the case, but I was smart enough to know you cannot be court-ordered to be a slave in the United States. The more often I would get this gentleman, the more annoyed I became with his ridiculous story about being his ex-wife’s slave. On one particular call I had grown so frustrated, I asked why he called if he was not going to pay. He explained his normal reasoning, “I am just checking up on the account ma’am.”
“Sir,” I replied, “You call nearly every day. We tell you the same thing. Why do you need to call and check on the account when the status doesn’t change?”

And on and on it went. There was a time or two where one of the collectors actually talked to J, his ex-wife’s supposed boyfriend. One call featured yelling voices and another gruff voice taking the call. The collector noted that J sounded suspiciously similar to Igor. I was, of course, suspicious of Mr. Igor’s tales of court-ordered slavery and seizure of resources, but we could never quite confirm them. Jenni and I grew tired of his games. I got ahold of a team lead in our joint call center in Washington and alerted them to the account. It was prepared for a lawsuit. That was my revenge to him for being a crackpot. Sadly, my employer dropped the suit.

Eventually, I moved to Utah. Jenni kept me updated on the account, since I was still an employee of the same company, therefore still having disclosure. Igor’s account had charged-off (in finance terms, written off as bad debt). My company had sold the debt to an outside third-party to recover some of the loss. The company policy stated that when an account has been charged off, a non-recovery collector is not responsible to collect the debt. They send it to one of the recovery specialists or refer the customer to the third-party agency if the debt was sold. Still, Igor would call us, his original debtor, to get account updates. And still, collectors who no longer had to collect the debt would attempt to make him pay.

Eventually, Jenni quit working for that company. Certain traumatic circumstances had come to head in her life, and she couldn’t think of going to work without having an anxiety attack. Both of us now removed two years from the Inbound collections department, we still discuss Igor and ponder what happened to him and the account. Well, I decided it was time to find out…. and you can read my findings tomorrow!

St. Paddy’s, Emily Style

St. Patrick’s Day is typically a drunken revelry filled with every Irish cliche you can pack into one day: Leprechauns, pots o’ gold, rainbows, shamrocks, and the luck of the Irish…. but who can forget the beer? The original intent behind St. Patrick’s Day was to commemorate the life of  a Roman-Briton born Christian missionary to the Celts and you can read more about him here since I have decided not to bore you to death with the details.

Since I am probably 1/16th Irish, I gave a nod to my heritage by wearing green. To me, the green was also pinch insurance, and I stated so on my Facebook status. My friend Scott thought otherwise. He commented on my Facebook status by “pinching” me.

I e-mailed him this response:

“By the way…. pinch me one more time, and I will hurt you. I am short and fiesty, remember? I bet its my Irish blood. So you best watch yourself!”

 

Scott’s reply:

yes, I’ll watch myself. You don’t have to tell a Scotsman that! It was either pinch an Irish girl or kiss one…which would you prefer?

 

 That comment made me pretty red.

 

 I then posted a photo of myself in my green attire. Because it was kind of a cute picture (and I am vain) I sent it to several friends with the message, “Can’t pinch me today!”

 

 

Me in green

 I changed my Facebook status to ”Emily wants to let you know just because she is Irish does NOT mean you can kiss her!” Then came more hilarious conversations….

The first response was from Andrew B.

 

 

 

 

 A: (after seeing my updated Facebook status) Did someone try to kiss you?
Me: No. A friend threatened to since he can’t pinch me. Oy. Besides, if anyone tried, I might hurt them.

Depends on who tries.
A: Depends? Whats the alternative? Oh, and I sent you a Flair.
(The flair he sent said “I was normal until I met EMILY.) I had to walk away from my desk because I was

laughing so hard!)
After I got that text from him, I was concerned he thought I was flirting. So I sent this:
Alternative? A female. An old lady, perhaps. Maybe one or two select guys are allowed to kiss my cheek. Hope

I didn’t scare you!
A: Not a bit.
(I then texted him something about me looking boy crazy to someone I know because I often praise me wonderful

guy friends. I don’t care to share the particulars.)
A: (responding to me being boy crazy) Or maybe a lot of guys are you crazy.
Me: Ha! The fine gentlemen I uplift tend not to be me crazy!

 

And then there was Michelle:
M: I can pinch you if I want to
Me: No you can’t! I am wearing green.
M: I could pinch you if I was there.
Me: Tough.
M: lol

 I got this one from Chelle in the last 60 seconds..

M; Ur not green today… so pinch.

 

Stacy (after seeing the picture I sent)
S: Da*n you’re hott! I don’t have to wear green since I am a cop!
Me: ROTFL! You ride in a paddy wagon! That’s irish yo!

 

Jenni R’s response to my text:
Lol I get to smack Sami when she gets home though
(I am going to guess she wasn’t wearing green)

And then, I sent this e-mail to Eric:
Me: Happy St. Paddy’s! Are you wearing green today? If not, then I will pinch you!
E: No.
Me: Then I get to pinch you if I get to see you later.
E: Where are you suggesting to pinch me?

 

The weirdness continued today when Jerry from my church responded to my Facebook status about not letting people kiss me, though I am Irish.

J: Okay….then you can kiss me. As the saying goes…if you kiss enough frogs…you find a prince. I am not a

prince…but at least you would have another frog checked off your list.
Me:Jerry, I find that suggestion frightening.
J:What is a frog to do?
Me: Croak and eat flies?

 

Seriously? Does it get ant odder than all of that? My theory about all this ridiculousness:

 

Everyone had a pint of Guinness. I swear I didn’t. It appears that I acted like it.

Always a Bridesmaid…

and never a bride is how the old adage goes. And so how it seems to go for me. But not quite.

A little over a year ago, I was a bride. I was supposed to have my walk down the aisle. Yesterday I internally celebrated my first solid year of singleness after my broken engagement. I told someone at church about the significance of the date. She told me she probably wouldn’t be celebrating; she’d be heartbroken.

And a year ago, I was. I was thoroughly convinced I was indeed meant for this man. I was so sure it was the will of God that having my wedding cancelled was like being hit by a freight train.
Now, here I am a year later, knowing so much more about myself. Even though my former fiance has amazing personality traits, there was a side of him I could not access. I know in my heart of hearts that I desire total intimacy from my spouse one day. My former fiance was unable, and truly, unwilling to deliver that. Truly, the end of that chapter of my life was a mercy from God.

In the last four years, I have been in three weddings. I was the maid of honor for my friend Jenny S and a bridesmaid for my friend Juliet. I was in my friend Courtney’s wedding a month ago as her personal attendant. Last week, I was asked by my friend Zac to be a groomswoman in his wedding set to take place in July of 2010. I stopped short.

 Me?

 Standing up with the men?

Of course I would. Zac is as good as family. We met over three years ago while attending Norwoodville Baptist Church together. Zac’s sister, Laura, died the same summer that I started my move to Des Moines. As I started to attend church at Norwoodville, I bonded with Zac and his sister, Hannah. I had not experienced the loss of a sister, but the loss of my father was still fresh in my heart. I could identify with the pain. Before I knew it, I was being adopted by their family and Zac and Hannah became my “little brother” and “little sister.” Zac’s family began attending a different church and I moved here to Utah. In that time, I remained in contact with Zac and Hannah. I still love them and feel connected to them. Is there any question if I would stand up for Zac? Of course not. Furthermore, I am honored.
I know some of you are wondering if I have to wear a tux…

And the answer is no. (Thank you!!)

Now, I am also going to be in another wedding in 2010, when I am the maid of honor for Jenni R.

Always a bridesmaid, never a bride…. if I am still single a year from now, am I going to be crying because of my lack of romance?

No.

I will be rejoicing that my dear friends have found that special someone they are meant to be with. And, God willing, I will too. The one I am meant for is going to be amazing. I made that post about a note to the men who are pursuing me or may pursue me in the future partially as a joke, and truly, it is my standard. As I wrote, even though it was being portrayed in a comical fashion, I realized I was really revealing the desires of my heart. My friend Kristin was inspired by my shennanigans and posted a similar list. Kristin and I have made a pact to review the potential suitors by our non-negotiables to make sure we don’t get in over our heads with someone who we should not even be giving the time of day. We? Are serious.

Until that day, I will rejoice in the Love of my Savior.  Though I seek and search for that “special person,” I am satisfied. And thankful that God knew better than I; and that despite a devastating heartbreak,  that He healed beautifully and has taught me to trust again. And guard.

Home Again

Hey all,

I’m back in town. I made it home safe, so yay! I hope you all enjoyed Jenni Rankin’s guest posts! My best friend has hysterical stories and I love hearing them. Girl needs to write a book. That type of material is best-selling humor literature material! Anyway, I hope to be posting about my weekend with Courtney and her friends Melissa, Jessica and Stephanie today. But first, I have a doctor’s appointment. I am going to have some blood tests run, so to hold you over I am going to amuse you with one of the greatest clips involving marriage in the history of movies. Enjoy!

Kids- you gotta love them!

For my second guest post I thought I would tell you all about my children, and some of the embarrassing things they have done to me in public. My oldest is Samantha, Sami for short, who will be 6 later this month and Gabrielle, Gabi for short, who will be 3 in May.

Sami is very outspoken. She started talking at 6 months old and hasn’t stopped. Even having her tonsils removed when she was 4 couldn’t keep her from talking. The girl even talks in her sleep! Gabi is more mischievous and quieter. She has already mastered the soul piercing glare when she doesn’t get her way.

I will go threw my stories chronologically. My first story takes place when Sami was 2. Sometime after I had dropped Sami off at daycare in the morning an eight year old boy was dropped off with a solid wood baseball bat. Later in the day the boy was swinging the bat around in the living room. Apparently the thought to take it away as soon as he got inside never crossed the daycare’s mind. He was told to stop, which he didn’t, and Sami ran up behind him to take it away. Then- POW- Sami got hit in the face with the end of the bat hard enough she flew back 3 feet. Sami didn’t even shed a tear. She got up, rubbed her eye, and said, “That didn’t hurt”. Then walked back up to the boy and grabbed the baseball bat away from him.

The daycare never called me or anything. I pick Sami up and she has a huge swollen black eye. After freaking out and screaming about how lucky Sami was that she wasn’t seriously hurt I left.

I had to do some shopping that night at Wal-Mart. As we walked threw the store Sami was reaching out of the cart grabbing anything she could reach off of the shelves. When I had finally had enough of telling her no and slapping her hands lightly I yelled. I told her to knock it off. Sami looks up at me with sad little eyes, one black and swollen, and says, “Mommy, please don’t hit me again.” I could literally feel the people staring at me in the aisle.

My next story takes place when Sami is 3. Once again, we are at Wal-Mart. Sami and I were in the check out lane. Out of nowhere Sami asked me, “Mommy, why is that guys skin so brown?” The man in front of us immediately spins around and is staring at me. He was very dark, possibly South African decent. He was waiting for my response to Sami’s question. I said the first thing that came to me. I looked down at Sami and asked her, “Why are you so pale?” She looks at her arms and says she didn’t know. I then told her that was just how she was, and that was just how he was. The man in front of us in line smiled, gave a small laugh as he picked up his bags and walked away.

This took place shortly after Gabi was born. The three of us were shopping, and I had Gabi in the front seat part of the cart in her car seat. Sami had been running all over and grabbing things off the shelves so I had tossed her in the basket of the cart. We were getting some baby items and Sami still wouldn’t listen. I had had enough. I glanced around real quick and saw no one around us. I told Sami if she didn’t stop it I was going to spank her butt. Sami had immediately ducked down in the cart behind Gabi’s seat. Then I hear a woman in a shaky voice behind me, “Um, That’s a cute baby girl you have.” As I turn to look at the woman I realized that from her viewpoint she couldn’t see Sami in the cart, and all she saw was me threaten to spank at 3 week old baby who is sleeping. I quickly make a brief comment about her age and the woman goes on her way. As she has her back to us, Sami pops up and says “Good bye!” then hides again. The woman spun around, looking very confused, and then walked away.

Guest Blog!!!

Hello everyone! My name is Jenni Rankin and I will be guest blogging for you all today! To start with I thought I would tell you all a little about myself and my up bringing; mainly my family. Emily always likes to hear stories about them so I thought they may be entertaining to everyone else as well. Please bear with me while I go threw the back ground, though, and introduce everyone.

I am a 25 year old divorcee with two beautiful little girls; Samantha who will be 6 next month, and Gabrielle who will turn 3 in May. I have a wonderful boyfriend named Brad who is 28. We live together in Carroll; which is by far the biggest town I have ever lived in. Brad is Catholic- I know, not a good one if he is living with a woman that’s not yet his wife but it works- and I became a Christan a few years ago.

My immediate family consist of the traditional mother, father, and brother. I also have a half sister from my dads first marriage. I was born in Guthrie Center and soon after moved to Perry, then at age 6 a hog farm outside of Adel, and moved again at age 11 to an acreage outside of Linden. Linden is close to Panora and Lake Panorama. The towns population is a whopping 50 or less.

My moms parents divorced when she was 2 due to my grandpas infidelities. Their divorce was finalized, the next day Grandma Janet gave birth to my moms sister, the day after that Grandpa Mel was remarried in Missouri. Six months later his new wife Nancy gave birth to another daughter. My Aunt Trisha and Aunt Becky are only 6 months apart. My grandpa never had much part in Mom and Trisha’s lives. My grandma fell into a deep depression after the divorce and has never even dated another man since. As a result of Grandma’s depression, my mom and her sister were raised Christian mostly by Grandma Janet’s parents.

My dads parents are a little different story. Grandpa Joe was a Deputy Sheriff for Polk County in the 60’s and 70’s. Grandma Elinor never learned to drive but always worked 40+ hours a week. She worked at Earl Maye’s, Payless, then Menard’s. Grandpa Joe was a huge man- 6′ 4″ and 300 lbs, none fat. Grandma Elinor is 5′ even, maybe weighing 95 lbs. Both were Atheist and racist, Grandpa was also sexist and abusive. Both EXTREMELY stubborn and strong willed. Grandma Elinor curses worse than a sailor and smokes worse than a chimney. Since Grandpa’s death in 1994 Grandma Elinor has calmed down a bit as far as racism. She says what she thinks when she thinks it and doesn’t care who it offends. She can also drop you harder than a rock if you talk back.

My dad moved out of his parents house when he was 17 because Grandpa Joe was going to force him to go to Vietnam. He was beaten severely before he left. He was almost half way threw his senior year when he had to drop out. He moved to Wisconsin to live with his cousin Nancy and her husband Mel. Yes,you are reading this correctly. Dads cousin Nancy is my moms step mom. My family tree is related by marriage- BY MARRIAGE! NOT BLOOD! Hence I am a Redneck from Iowa and not a Hillbilly from Arkansas. He didn’t meet my mom until about 6 or 7 years later when Mel and Nancy moved back to Iowa.

When my parents did meet, get married, and have kids they decided to raise us with no religion at all. Mom being Christan wouldn’t raise us Atheist, and the other way around for Dad. It wasn’t until I was in high school that I realized that the majority of people when to church on Sundays and I was the odd one for not.

OK, now that I have told you a little about my family I think I will entertain you with some stories about Grandma Elinor. I am also going to add the following disclaimer:

It is not my intention to offend anyone; so if I do, I apologize now. I will clean up any quotes from Grandma with Astrix’s. The purpose of the following stories are for entertainment, even though they are true.

There. Now I will tell you about the time Grandma Elinor met the Medieval Group from Iowa State University.

 My brother Davin had just started college at Iowa State and he wanted to take us all on a tour of the campus. Mom, Dad, Grandma, Samantha, and I all walked around with Davin as our tour guide. He showed us all the buildings his classes were in and anything he felt had historical significance. As we walked past the Bell Tower in the center of campus, the Medieval Group was “sword fighting” with foam bats and swords.

This group lives medieval- literally. Their clothes are medieval looking, hand made, and worn constantly. They only bathe once a month. They do not shave- men or women. It looks as though you are almost looking back in time when you see them, and that is their goal.

When Davin saw them he tried everything he could think of to distract Grandma and have us go towards a different building- with no luck. Davin knew what was coming, as did the rest of us. Sami was only 2 years old and luckily she was sleeping in the stroller at the time. There was no way to avoid having to walk within feet of them. Grandma Elinor had seen them. The first thing out of her mouth?

She looked at Davin and asked, “What in the **** are those idiots doing?”  She was completely appalled. She didn’t lower her voice, and they could hear every word. Davin tried to politely explain the group since they were with in ear shot. As we got closer, Grandma slowed down, stopped about 3 feet from them, and started in. “Oh my *** their scurvy! Look at them! Don’t they know what soap is? When was the last time they took a bath? Why in the **** cant they cut that filthy hair if they wont wash it!”

Davin tried to push Grandma along, but we knew better- she wasn’t going anywhere. I had quickly shoved the stroller by in a speed walk, Dad not far behind me. Mom was trying to hide her face as she was torn between helping Davin or abandoning her son with Grandma to save herself. All of us were trying to hide laughter under our breath at the sight of a 75 year old woman with a beehive hair cut cursing at a group of teenagers. The Medieval Group had stopped their “sword fight” and were asking each other who the old woman was.

Grandma kept going, “Why would a University allow such filthy idiots in school? They are just wasting their parents money! ****ing scurvy *******s!”

Davin got Grandma moving, and we heard about how nasty their appearance was for the rest of the evening. And the Medieval Group? After we were about 20 feet away, they started “sword fighting” again right were they left off., seemingly unfazed.

That’s Grandma Elinor. I will probably post again either tonight or tomorrow while Emily is out of town. Hope this was entertaining!

The Other Celebrity Collage…

I mentioned last week I had a disturbing celebrity-look alike comparison. Jenna double-dog dared me to post it. Since I am too proud to resist a challenge, am going to post my shame now.

These results want me to dig my eyes out with a straw.

Introducing… Emily’s New Twin…

How in the world do I look like Dave Navarro? Sure he has an impressive record, having been a guitarist with Jane’s Addiction and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, but still, we don’t look like we were separated at birth.

I decided to try one more photo and see what I would be compared to, hoping the results would be better. But then I ended up with…

How did I end up with Jim Morrison? How come I keep getting these rocker dudes? Last I checked, I don’t look very manly. Besides, I have way better hair.

Sidenote: I just read on that wiki link I posted Jim Morrison and I have the same birthday. Weeeird.

Two bad celebrity comparisons? Hold me.

Anyway, stay tuned to a guest post from my best friend Jenni R! Finally she gets to tell her side of the story!!