Journal Entry #3

"Honey don't forget the celery. My parents love peanut butter and celery cut not too thin not too thick."
Those were the encouraging words my fiance, Rufus said to me as I eagerly walked out of the house. Rufus's parents were visitng us for the first time from Chicago. I was so nervous to meet them. From past stories I've gotten the hint that his parents were quite hard to warm up to. Rufus grew up in a strict family setting, with his father originally from England and his mother raised in a Catholic setting home. The two sound completey impossible to break the ice with.
My nerves had gotten the best of me. Driving down the road I could barely focus on the traffic in front of me. I couldn't stop thinking of what I'd say to them or how I would act. I was more nervous about what I'd cook and how it would turn out for my future in-laws. I paced each aisle slowly debating whether to pick up this ingredient or that ingredient. There were so many recipes going through my mind that I'm pretty sure I ran the dessert menu and vegetable menu together, frosted broccoli.
As my nerves came to a calming state they were sprung back up my the sound of my cell phone ringing.
"He-Hello?"
"Hey honey, just wondering if you got everything you needed. Could you also stop by the coffee shop and pick up a gallon of coffee. The kind you bought isn't that great, my parents like the fresh stuff."
"Um. Yeah, sure hun."
Finally coming home to my husband busily cleaning the house I placed the thousands of bags of groccery on the counter. Pots and pans, mushrooms, meat, and celery tossed about the kitchen as I prepared dinner. Suddenly the worse thing happened, a knock at the door that was two hours early! I knew it, they'd come early just to torture me.
"Mom, dad, this is Amy. Amy this is my mother Mary and my father Arthur."
"Oh hello. So nice to finally meet you", I said with hesitation, "would you guys like something to drink"
The start of the ever so early evening began somewhat slow. I wasn't sure how to act and my I couldn't focus on the meal I was trying to prepare. It was time for dinner and as nervous as I was I walked out to the den and gave a notion to my husband.
"Um, mom dad its dinner time. You ready to eat?"
Nervously, I sat and watched them take a bite of my somewhat decent meal. Their eyes bugged out and began to chew fast.
"Is everything okay?"
"Who cooked this? This is amazing."
"I cooked the dinner. Thank you very much Mrs. Whinchester."
"Oh don't be silly. Call me Mary doll."
What? I actually warmed up to the parents on the first night. This is amazing. I was liked by the parentals and I cooked the dinner.

Journal Entry #2[eh..a little soft]

Something so dear and precious that hurts the most when broken. Its what I like to call love, or just your heart in general. Anything can make it twitch and throb but nothing more than bad news, aka heart breaking news. Through our lives people will step on, poke at, crush, and even rip our hearts to pieces. The good thing is there are simple things in life that can quickly piece these pieces together. It can be the simplicity of a smile, a hug, something to laugh at, or for some girls....chocolate. =] Love is a fragile subject for some and can be taken way out of proportion but we all have to know that no matter how old you are love will never fade. There will always be that someone who truly cares about you and will always cherish your feelings. Today you may not feel like you have someone like that, but really we all do. A happy heart doesn't have to be ignited through a love relationship it can flourish with the love of friend and the good times you have together. A heart can heal in time but it will never be as full as when you were first born. Love is something I hold dear to me and I won't let just anyone take it away. I guess you could say that it's quite difficult to really get to my heart. But, I know I have time to find that special someone and allow him to care for my heart.

Journal Entry #1

Something truly significant to me in my life currently would probably have to be my pictures in general. Especially of those that are truly close to me, like pictures from growing up in New York. Each image has a special place in my heart because of the memories that I carry with it. There are pictures of me and people I never get to see anymore or rarely talk to. It's hard to move away from all your family and see them maybe once or twice a year. Each snapshot of the past brings a smile upon my face everytime I look at t hem. The first year I moved to North Carolina from New York I began to become upset when I couldn't call my best friend and go play with her. I could only talk to her on the phone, but I couldn't physically see her and giggle when we did something stupid. A day after school I reached for my huge box of photos and began to shuffle through. The images were caterogized by people, like me and my best friend, me and my grandparents, and them some sort of random. I pulled out an image in particular, one of me and my best friend Lindsay the week before I moved. We both had our hair the same way, pulled in super tight pig tails and wearing out childish bikini's posing on her pool deck. The next image was the same day and we had our arms around each other smiling so brightly with the mouths full of missing second grader teeth. Since I'm pretty much a sucker for any sort of meaningful song, I heard a song a the radio that jogged my mind of all the awesome times we had together dancing, laughing, playing, dressing up, singing, and having the best sleepovers ever. Even though I was just eight years old my heart pounded and my palms began to sweat. I wasn't sure what was going on until tears started to pour down my face and I was actually having deep feelings. For an eight year old, I think I experienced some type of powerful emotion that usually only grown ups can experience. I will never forget the good times Lindsay and I had, especially when I have my photos to take me back to those days.