Ramblings...

This video kind of pertains to a blog I wrote over the summer over the same issue. Why do we care about hair soo much? Why are girls so mean to people that they don't even know? What is wrong with us? It doesn't make sense to me that people would go up to someone and just say that they're hair is ugly. Just because their famous doesn't mean they're open to your critique. We don't do that to 'normal' people. But we forget that famous people are normal people too. I don't know. I probably sound like I should be more concerned with other issues of the earth but this just bugs me. Why do we as humans HAVE to put others down? Why?

You Know it's Finals Week When...

Now that they're over, I can joke about them. Before, life was too depressing to even laugh...yeah. it was bad. But now...I can breath again, and turn off my brain. Well, not completely. I'll leave it on when I blog. Since it is Christmas Break I can blog more. Cause...talk about slackin.'

So now I'm going to try and change that.

Starting with my "you know it's finals week when" list.

1. You know it's finals week when you just put on clothes you've found on the floor without checking to see if they're dirty.

2. You know it's finals week when all of the energy drinks are gone from the vending machines.

3. You know it's finals week when it just starts feeling like one really long, bad, day.

4. You know it's finals week when you feel like you're walking to your death when you walk into a classroom.

5. You know it's finals week when you come out of a test feeling like you wouldn't be able to take it again in an hour because you would have forgotten everything.



ahh....glad to get that out. lol any other "you know it's finals week when's?"

Day One

So Day one of Nanowrimo.

National Novel Writing Month...I decided I was going to submit and give it a try at around 11:45. Putting aside my fears of undone homework and sleepless nights. (because really, this was already happening anyway.)

My best friend Lali is also doing this and so she is my motivation to try and actually go through with writing a 50,000 word novel in a month. Whoa. I know. I feel my eyes burning with exhaustion already.

But it should be fun. I do want to write a novel so this is going to be the kick in the butt that I need to get it done. Who knows what will happen after that?

I'm only at 150 words so far because I really do need to get this homework done. But along with writing the novel, doing my school work, sleeping, working out, reading Twilight and New Moon over again before that movie comes out, I will also be updating my blog on this whole NanoWrimo thing. Hopefully. At least their isn't a suggested word count of like 1300 or something per day.

Per day.

FAV YOUTUBE VIDEO OF THE DAY.

Watch it Twice! lol (something is going on and I give up on trying to fix it.)

PRINCESS AND THE FROG!!! sooooo pumped.

FAV YOUTUBE VIDEO OF THE DAY.

Favorite Youtube Video of the Day

Jordin Sparks!

Favorite Youtube Video of the Day

Too Bad I'm in the South

The only thing I miss about being up north is Fall. I guess we have it here, but it's sporatic. Fall doesn't make a grand entrance here. It peeks in and out until December--when winter hits.

In Michigan, summer was over by October 1st. It was such a blatant switch--I loved that time of year. To actually have four distinct seasons was amazing. People started putting pumpkins on their porches, we got to bust out our scarves. Scarves actually had a purpose there, and weren't just a fashion accessory. But I can't complain too much about the south because it is the best place to be when the winter months hit.

Ice-scicles thicker than your head and longer than your entire body line the roofs of buildings waiting to fall and kill you. The icy winds are so strong, a snow man that took hours crumbles with the change in current.

But, my point is they have FALL. My favorite season! The leaves actually have a period where they are different colors on the trees. Here, they almost stay green until the last second before the fall off and die. No in between. Hot or cold.

Favorite Youtube Video of the Day

my bestest friend Beth and my favorite 2-year-old Michael

I've Been Thinking...

That the Twilight series is a story that isn't just pure entertainment.

They represent what a lot of people yearn for--a true unconditional love like Edward and Bella's

An "I'd die for you" kind of love. I think so many girls obsess over Edward especially because they know some how that they will never find that kind of love in a real guy.

But I think we're missing the point.

We will never find that kind of supernatural love in another human being. Which is why I think these stories had to be told in the context of vampires. There had to be some magical explanation for why Edward and Bella were able to love each other like that.

Anyway...to my point...

We CAN have that kind of love. It IS supernatural. It's something that I've known for a while but weirdly enough needed Twilight to show me how real it was.

God loves us like that. God loves us more than that. It's really hard for me to grasp...to wrap my mind around. Because even though I've been told this my whole life...Jesus didn't just have the "I'd die for you" kind of attitude...he DID die for me.

He died for everyone past, present and future. And while he was on the cross...he thought of each and every person that he was dying for. And it's not because he just had a lot of time on his hands while he was hanging on the cross, because I'm sure there was a lot of pain that he could have been thinking about, but because He truly DID die for each of us because he truly does love each of us and doesn't want to see any one of us spending eternity in hell without Him.

I heard a really good metaphor for what Jesus did for us once that really stuck with me. It's actually a pretty obvious and easy metaphor...but...those are the best kind right?

anyway...

So, imagine that you're in court. You're about to be sentenced to life in prison. You've plead guilty. When all of a sudden someone stands up and volunteers to go to jail FOR you. They didn't commit the crime...you did. But you get to go free. It's simple...yet the most mind blowing thing once you really think about it. Because really...which one of us humans would be willing to serve someone ELSES' jail sentence. We're all about justice..."you do the crime, you do the time" kind of thinking.

It's weird, I know, but if I WAS the only person he could have saved by dying on the cross, he STILL would have done it. crazy right?

It was a gift. A gift that he gave willingly, but we still have to accept it. --another metaphor, it's like getting a present on Christmas...and leaving it under the tree unopened.

When we open the gift, when we believe and accept what Jesus did for us, we get to spend ETERNITY in heaven. That's not a Christmas gift I would want to leave unopened.

If we DON'T open the gift, if we reject Jesus, we have to spend eternity in hell, without Him. That's like Bella not caring at all that all of her family and friends risked their lives in every single book to save her...but on a much larger scale.

So because Jesus did that for me, how can I NOT be willing to live my life for him?

That's all he asks for in return.

One of the first bible verses you learn in church is John 3:16. I used to say it so much, it started to become irrelevant in my mind. But I know now the reason for why we spent so much time committing this verse to memory. It spells everything out so plainly, yet it's the most loaded verse in the whole Bible.

For God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him SHALL NOT PERISH (you don't have to go to hell) but have EVERLASTING LIFE (you get to spend forever in heaven) John 3:16 (emphasis by Jillana)

I really think that the reason so many people are turned off to the idea of Christianity is because of the people who may have presented it to them in the past.

They base their opinions of Jesus and Christianity on people. People who are flawed, who could have impure motives. People can distract other people from getting to know Jesus. Who is perfect and won't EVER disappoint you like so many people can.

Not every person in the church is a hypocrite. But even if they were, it still doesn't take away from what Christianity is about. Just because you might have a math teacher who doesn't know what he is talking about, it doesn't mean that 2 + 2 isn't 4.

I know this might seem like it's rambling, but I needed to get this out. Thank you to whoever read this and I really hope and pray that something I said got you thinking.

Jillana

For anyone who wants to keep talking on this subject I'm open for discussion. Or you could read this -http://www.everystudent.com/features/faith.html?gclid=CNnI7retpJwCFRlinAodJGZllQ

or most importantly...THE BIBLE! :)

Book Store in My Room

So, lately I've been really into books. 

I've always been pretty interested in reading, but I wouldn't have called myself a 'pleasure reader.' 

But when I get into something, I get really into it. It's really easy for me to form habits....good thing, that reading is a pretty good habit. I'm not exactly good at forming other good habits like...exercising. 

So anyway, ever since last summer, when I started my reading kick. I stacked all of these books in the corner of my room planning to read them all before the summer was over. I was doing really well, I had gotten through like four books by late May, until my older sister introduced me to Twilight. Then a certain three, soon to be four books took over the rest of my summer, and my reading stack. (notice I said 'stack' and not 'list' I never wrote it down.) 

Somewhere during the school year, my family decided to get some shelves built in our front room to house all of the books my parents have been collecting over the past 20 something years. Because the shelves were supposed to be built right away, the soon to be shelved books took up a temporary residence in my bedroom which, while I was away at school, apparently had turned into a dumping ground. 

That was like...four months ago I want to say. Maybe a little less, and the books are still in my room.  Well, they were, until I just moved them into the living room ten minutes ago. By myself. There were a good hundred or so books. 

So, ever since my reading kick started I haven't been able to go into Border's without coming out with a mental note to add a book to the stack. This new found habit transferred to the moving of my parent's books. 

I kept 8 in my room. 

Some because I was wondering what my parents bought it for. like Dr. James Dobson's "The Strong-Willed Child." Did they buy that because of me? I don't think I've spent too many days of my life being 'strong-willed.'

Then there's Charles R. Swindoll's "Living on the Ragged Edge." What does that even mean? And why were my parent's reading it?

My mom got "Meditations for Women Who Do Too Much" as a gift, and it doesn't look like she's read a whole lot of it. Which...makes sense. She still does too much. 

I found a hymn book that looks like it might have been lifted from a church we once attended. (I'm going to have to ask them about that one.) But I'm trying to learn the piano, so I kept that one out to see if I could play any of them. 

"Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World" is a pretty new book, but the bookmark is only on the 18th page, so I don't think anyone will mind if I add that one to the stack. 

Then there's a few more devotional books that I'm going to try out. So it was a pretty productive venture if I do say so myself. 

J.

Take Your Daughter to Work Day

Apparently that was Thursday.

I think I was the only one who participated 'cause, there were no other offspring at the Eggo plant other than me. 

Yeah I know, weird right?  I was really confused too. Especially as I stood around a table checking waffles for holes and other defects, and I realized that my dad was the only one willing to lug around his 19-year-old... 

huh...weird....

Ok, sorry it's not funny anymore.

It wasn't take your "daughter to work day" it was "force Jillana to sit in your office because you think she's turning into a lazy moocher day."

I know I need a job. I get it. And  I've been out of school for a few weeks now, and I've pretty much slept off the stresses of finals, so I know it's time to start lookin'. But still, I think the intervention is a bit premature. 

I know A LOT of college kids still sittin' around on their butts, "sleeping off the stresses of finals."

My day started at six--after I subconsciously turned off my alarm--to the sound of some obnoxious bird chirping a very repetitious song outside my window, serving as my snooze alarm.

Then after being told what to wear and how to do my hair so that I looked "presentable" and after two or three reminders to my dad that I don't actually work for him, I was on my way to the Eggo plant. 

I was recruited by my father to help assist in the production of a video presentation for some visitors that they are having soon. He suggested it because of my minor in film and sweet imovie skills. And even though I've only taken one film class, he insisted I use technical terminology when speaking to him about the video.

Yeah...that would have worked if I retained anything after May 1st and if he had any idea what I was talking about. So that didn't last...

Oh and ever since finals week I've become some what of a night owl. My sleeping schedule is totally backwards and my lack of responsibilities has opened up the day for napping. I've tried to get back to normal...to wake up early one day so that I could "re-set my clock" my sleeping clock, not my biological clock...obviously that one's still good.

So yeah anyway, the night before I carried out my sentence I decided to stay up all night. I wasn't really tired cause I'd slept until like two that day, so that part wasn't hard at all. 

I figured since I would be forced to wake up early the next day, and I wouldn't be able to take any naps, that when I got home I would sleep at night when everyone else did!

But that was actually probably the worst decision I ever made. I was like a zombie the whole day. Too tired to answer questions and meet my honorary co-workers, but I did anyway cause it wasn't their fault I was completely sleep deprived. 

Because of this, during Food Review(I think that's what it was called) I stared at a box of Eggos genuinely confused as I tried to open it neatly so I could start my part of the inspection. I couldn't figure it out and after about a minute I was gettin' frustrated so I ended up just like ripping it open only to be faced with the stupid plastic wrapping. 

Once my waffles were out I started sorting them according to their impurities. Instead of Food Review I think it's pretty fitting to call that portion of my day the Waffle Holocaust. Once they were classified and recorded they were dumped into a big circle in the middle of the table with a trash can underneath to be given to the hogs.--it was kinda sad.

 Oh and the plastic was recycled, I checked. But there were so many specific classifications and categories of defects that I ended up just sliding my piles down to my dad because clearly, I was in no shape to try and figure that out.

So after all of the holy waffles were disposed of, I worked and worked and worked on that video. I sifted through an hour worth of footage of waffles on "the line" the like conveyer belt things that you see on shows like "How it's Made."  Basically...except for the breaks I took to watch Gilmore Girls on DVD I pretty much sat behind my laptop all day. 

So I had a pretty thorough "job field" experience, I'd say.

Oh, back to being really really tired, I put my head down for like two seconds...the same two seconds that my dad was making his way back to his office. 

I got a mini scolding from my boss because it looks bad I guess if I'm sleeping when no one else is allowed to. 

"But I don't really work for you," I said for like the 9th time.

I mean, I didn't get mad when my 9th grade choir teacher brought her sick child with her because she couldn't leave school, and we all had to stare at her all comfy in a sleeping bag on the floor while we stood on some uncomfortable metal risers for like and hour. Nope, not mad at all. 

So because he was aware of my idiotic decision to stay up all night, he told me to close the door if I needed to sleep. So I did. 

I wouldn't have passed out sitting up if I had gotten to leave at lunch time like I was promised. But in the midst of me texting my mom to tell her to come rescue me, my boss/dad was calling her telling her that I needed to stay until he was ready to come home at 5. 

He called me a baby for not having the work ethic to stick it out the whole day, but I really just didn't have the stamina. And, anyway, if I was doing a job that I actually liked it would have been a different story. 

By the time I woke up, I only had like two hours left, so I watched a few more episodes of Gilmore Girls on my laptop and then it was over. --Sigh--that was a good feeling.

But I really did learn a lot about my dad that day and I'm glad that I went. He's extremely ambitious and an excellent leader. He's figured out how to get people to do what he wants them to do because they want to do it. When I was a cheerleading captain that was the one thing I couldn't really quite grasp I don't think. I and a few girls on the team were always really passionate and I think my teammates saw that and wanted to do well for the ones that really cared about it, but the one thing I regret is that I don't think I got everyone to want it for themselves.  

Maybe I should have given them more stuff. I don't know if it is the stuff, the celebration parties, Tony the Tiger t-shirts etc....but I know that, I think that--I hope that, those people love him up there. 

That's what it seemed like. I don't think they would put on a nice face just for me. He gets stuff done, and they still like him afterward. And they respect him. It was pretty cool. 

I think he makes a good boss because he understands everyone's jobs. We've moved enough times, that he's done everyone's jobs once before and that makes for a level of compassion and empathy in his leadership, but also since he's been in most of those positions before he knows how to give good advice and he inspires greatness out of people. 

It's cool to have grown up and get to see my dad grow in his career also, he's gone so far from where we were when I was four. I'm a little proud...just a little. 

(edit: that first sentence that is a link to the waffle picture is a total accident, and I can't make it go away..sorry.)

Letters from the Lost Journal

So, after yesterday's post, I started to rummage through the rest of the newly discovered journal and I discovered this little entry that I wrote while on a family road trip...

Radio

We decided to try to utilize the Atlanta radio stations for as long as we had them, no after an hour and a half we're finally starting to get a little static. We heard Love Song by Sara Bareilles twice, No Air by Jordin Sparks and Chirs Brown three times. So...time to put a movie in. 

Spiderwick Chronicles--funny and terrifying at the same time. I know I'm not the targeted audience but I'm not ashamed to say it scared the crap out of me at some points. 

Ok...moving car...getting dizzy...can't write. 

Elbows

I just got done with sitting in the car for 14 hours, for the second time in like 48 hours. I swear it does something to my health, psychie, whatever it was pretty traumatic. Usually I enjoy car rides and road trips...for the most part. 

Most people think it's crazy, but I like making the memories, eating the crappy food...it's fun. 

But this time, it was the farthest from fun. I had my thirteen year old brother pressed to my right side and every time he moved, his elbow went into my right side. So for 14 hours every time I started to doze off, his elbow would come at me like clock work. I tried not to be whiny I knew "he's touching me!" wouldn't fly coming from a 19 year old. But the boy could not sit still, so the bumping was constant. I'm surprised I didn't end up with a bruise on my side from the repeated elbowing. Alright, enough complaining, I'll just leave the story here in all its awfulness.

J

lol

Something to Blog About

Ever since I was younger I have had a love for notebooks. like journals. I can't pin point it, but I think it either came from Harriet the Spy, or my mother. 

But still, I never just write in one. Most people have one journal that they fill up and then they move on to the next one.--I write in whatever is closest to me. 

So I have a bunch of half empty--or half full...whatever it's still only half--journals hidden in different places in my room.

So today, while I was trying to get my dog out from under my bed, I discovered a journal that I started last year, I think. I was writing down my thoughts so that I could later post a really cool, well thought out, thought provoking blog post. Considering I never remembered to follow through with that, I'm probably better off just blogging off the top of my head. (better for whom, I'm not so sure) But I did find this funny little blurb that I probably should have posted lol.

Something to Blog About

I really need something to blog about, so I'm just going to start writing...

now I'm watching Grey's Anatomy contemplating how I'm going to attack this health kick thing again. I need another angle...

I need some posters for my new room. 

20 days until school starts up.

 20 days until I'm the new kid...again. 

2 days until Breaking Dawn comes out...

things are lookin' up. 

yes. my brain really is this random. 

3 Willows

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a pretty big fan of  The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series. 

So, of course when the author, Ann Brashares started a new series the first book titled, 3 Willows, I was immediately interested. 

But so far, all this book buying experience has taught me is to do my research before I buy. 

I spent 8 of my own dollars, so I'm not too worried about wasting the money--there's always selling it on Amazon as a back up plan if I don't like it. 

But now, because I did buy it, I feel obligated to read a book about three 8th graders.

I'm about to be a junior in college. (which gets weirder everytime I say it) 

So, I think I'm a little out of the demographic. 

But who knows, I might love it. This has actually happened to me once before. 

I picked up the first Clique novel in Target knowing nothing about it only to find out it was about 7th graders. 

I was in 11th grade then...but I ended up really liking it, and then three or four years later ended up cracking up at the movie. So, I am going to give 3 Willows a chance. 

Because, at the very least it will make me remember what it was like to be entering high school; make me all nostalgic and stuff. 

Or it could backfire and make me really depressed that I'm almost 20, I'm halfway done with college, and have no earthly idea what the heck I'm going to do with the rest of my life. 

happy reading.

jillana

Daddy Warbucks and Anti-Prom

What do the two have to do with each other?---not much. Nothing at all, really...I just didn't feel like doing two separate posts.

Ok so, us kids--there are five in my family-- are not exactly...self motivated.
I'll admit, it's like pulling teeth getting anybody to do anything around here.

While, my parents refuse to pay us to do regular chores--rightfully so... they have agreed to come up with a system to encourage us to do extra things--because a clean home makes for a happy daddy.

So, I came up with the point system. 1 pt = 5 dollars, and only the extra extra chores are worth any points; like washing the car (worth 1/2 of a point), mowing the lawn (4 points--we're still debating on why...I don't see what is so hard about pushing a lawn mower--it's practically like vacuuming.)

So yeah, we'll see how that goes. I'm making a chart for us to hang in the kitchen because I'm motivated by gold stars alone.

My dad wants to call them "Dad bucks" because every new operation needs a cutesy name. It's the plant director in him. --so, in return, I'm going to call him 'Daddy Warbucks' like in Annie. :)

Now for the anti-prom portion of our program...

My younger sister decided not to go to prom this year, not a big deal, I never went to any of mine, so she threw a party for her and a friend and they called it the "Anti-Prom." Of course, I documented the occasion by putting together a little piece for Youtube.

--ugh. i can't get it to embed. lo siento. do you mind clicking the link? It's worth it, I promise.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBXZfW5kGaA

"If I Stay"

I was planning on doing this Twilightguy style and blog as I read this book. I wanted to share the experience with the world. As I went along.

 But I finished it in one day.

 Which is a good thing, cause my review is pretty much done. If you knew me, you would automatically know my opinion of the book by that one fact.

 Reading a book in one day is saying a lot about the book for me.  Because when it comes to leisure reading, a book has to really be interesting to hold my attention for a long period of time. Like neglecting responsibility kind of hold on my attention.

 If I stay is a kind of book that you can’t write a review for without giving EVERYTHING away. Yet another reason why books are different from movies. Movie trailers can tell you a lot about what the movie is about because they can still dazzle you with special effects. With books you have to be careful with what you reveal because it could ruin the experience for someone.

 So I can’t say anymore about If I Stay. Besides that you should read it. 

One Year Later

I wrote a blog last year about pretty people. I asked a question about why they have so much power for something they cannot control.

You can read it here if you want....come back though....

 

This blog post has nothing to do with that one except to illustrate how much I have changed in one year.

 Back then I tried to use big words like “adhere” and “wield”. (ok, so the words aren’t that big…but it takes effort to write like that off the cuff.)

 Maybe I was a better writer back then.

Maybe I just care less now…

Maybe “Twilight” really did melt my brain.

 Those are the only things I can think of to explain why I don’t write like that anymore.

 I guess it’s not a bad thing, maybe I’m more real now.

 Now that I’m not trying to impress people as much.

 But maybe I can get a little of the old Jillana back.

The one who wanted to sound smart sometimes.

The one who put effort into the things that she did just for the sake of accomplishment. 

Lame and After-the-fact

Ever since I’ve been at college I’ve promised myself that I wouldn’t step foot in a club. Now, this was a personal decision.  I never implied that people who go to clubs are also on the express train to hell, I just know that, that’s not where God wants me to be on a Friday night.

 I never liked being in that kind of setting, even in high school.  I avoided school dances like they were the plague. I don’t know what it was…I just knew it wasn’t my scene.

 I even made sure by going to one dance because obviously as soon as I told people I didn’t like dances I got a million, “well, how do you know if you’ve never been to ones?” So I did. I went to Homecoming my senior year, just to make sure all of my hunches I had about dances were justifiable.  They were. Totally were. I was miserable.

So, I got that one excruciating experience out of my system and now I can be 100% sure that it’s not my scene.

 But anyway, my high school friends knew this about me so they eventually stopped asking.—No, that’s a lie, a billion people bugged me about prom too…but that’s another story for another time.

 My new college friends obviously didn’t know this about me, or at least I didn’t think they did. I didn’t tell them…

 But somehow they knew because they would never include me in their plans until like after the fact. I didn’t mind or anything, I don’t have a problem with being “that girl” the girl who you can tell is a “good girl” just by lookin at her.

 It’s better than being labeled as the opposite at first sight.

 The only thing I don’t like about it is that people assume that just because I might be ‘the good girl’—their words, not mine—that I’m not fun, or that I’m super judgmental.

 So that bothers me.

But being Lame and after the fact is kind of cool, I think I’ll start a club. 

FINALS ARE DONE

Hey Peoples...

So lately, I've been feeling pretty guilty..well, I don't think guilty is the word...

Idk, I just felt kind of weird for having a blog...but not doing anything with it I guess.

So my summer vacation resolution is to blog more. 

I have all of these half way finished blogs saved onto my computer. I was so close to greatness so many times and yet...I didn't take the extra step to posting.

Lo siento. (that's I'm sorry in Spanish)

So yeah, I'll be updating more. But I've already said that....so. 

So, to make this post different. I'll post a video. :)

This is a video I made of my brother...heh. that's all the intro I wanna give this one.

LALI Blogs more than me...

and I'm jealous. 

but I have finals out the wa-zoo. and I don't even know where the wa-zoo is. 

so....I'm not studying like a mad women for a second to tell anyone who cares, that I'll be back. 

It's kind of sad that I don't know if anyone cares. 

So I feel like I'm talking to myself.

If anyone reads my blog--reveal yourself!! 

please??

( in a comment preferably, I don't want visitors...I gotta study...or at least that's the nicer reason why I don't want random people showing up at my place.)

seriously, this summer....Just Jillana will be back in business.

with loads of pointless junk to say. 

and some not so pointless.

that was one of my new years resolutions--to try and write stuff that was not so pointless.

I'm not doin such a hot job with that one so far. 

and it's almost May.

oh well.

until I get back...read Lali's blog.

she has more to say. 

peace.

LALI'S BLOG LALI'S BLOG LALI'S BLOG CLICK THIS TO READ LALI'S BLOG

My friend Beth.

Dear God,

Thank you for my friend Beth, she makes me smile. 

I pray that I can be as outgoing and brave as she is. 

I pray that I can have an effect on people the way that she does. 

Thanks again,

Jillana

Favorite Youtube Video of the Day

Kiera Cass. Purple Bullet

I LOVE the Twicurls. Check them out at youtube.com/twicurls if you have any interest in Twilight whatsoever.

These girls, are basically amazing, and one of them Kiera Cass, is my fellow writer hero. She's self publishing a book.

I didn't even know you could do that.

Which is probably not something I should admit on the internet.

Anyway, she has her own youtube channel as well youtube.com/kieracass both channels are full of AWESOMENESS.

peace. Jillana

One Vision

My face was burning hot, I felt as if I had a 100 degree fever. My stomach was in my throat. I'd never felt this kind of nervousness. We'd worked our whole season for these next few minutes. If I screwed up, I would have seventeen girls to answer to, the majority of them being seniors who this day was their last chance. One Vision. We'd all said it many times, but it never had as much meaning as it did now. We were one; one school, one team. All together finally at the third round of the Competitive Cheerleading state championships. We'd made it, just like we'd planned. As trivial as it seems, the outcome of this day would change us all forever. We'd either leave here satisfied, or leave wishing that we'd done more. All I knew was that we were going to leave here with something.

It all started with a goal. It was the middle of the summer and we were all sitting on the dirty floor of our quaint little cabin we'd been calling home for the past few days. Cheerleading camp was in full swing, and each team there talked about their aspirations for the season. "Jones," my newly married, tough, inspiring, and loveable cheerleading coach asked us all where we wanted to be at the end of the season in March. I'm almost positive that she asked us, but for some reason I don't remember having a choice. It was decided for me that at the end of the season, we wouldn't be state finalists, but we were going to win the whole thing. I was perfectly fine with the goal set for me, partially because I wanted it too, and partially because I was afraid. I got this vibe from the seniors that my goal had to match theirs because they were not going to tolerate being held back by a lowly junior. As camp came to a close, we went back to practice with a fiery purpose in our hearts. We knew we had a lot of work to do, but we were very optimistic that we'd get it done. The sideline season flew by. We hadn't won anything yet to get us to the Delta Plex, but we knew that as a team we'd made the necessary improvements to give us an edge on the competition.

Going into the competitive season tryouts our team goal was starting to become my own. I wanted it for my senior teammates, but I was beginning to want it for myself. I was still afraid of them, and probably still am to this day, but it had a little more meaning to me. I wasn't just sitting back and soaking in everything. I was contributing to the team and our drams. As we inched closer to March our practice environment intensified. We knew that we needed to leave practice each day feeling like we accomplished something that would get us closer to the finish line. We pushed through each weekend picking up many well-earned 1st place finishes. Even after that many wins, we never let up. Even if we thought we could win with our eyes closed, we still gave it everything we had, building our reputation, and proving that we were one of the best.

Some competitions before “play-off” time were really just formal practices. They meant a lot to us when we won, but they still didn’t count towards the final goal. When we did come to the competitions that counted, we all felt the pressure. We fought our way through conference finals sweeping all four meets just as we’d planned. The next weekend was the regional competition. We stormed out way to number one that day too, finally earning our spot amongst the top ten Class B competitive cheerleading teams in the state of Michigan.

The week of practice in between Regional and State was so exciting. All 18 of us were engulfed with thoughts of the coming weekend—it was all we could talk about. No one could concentrate at school, it filled our lunch conversations; the more I heard my senior teammates talk about how they felt in years past at the state finals, the more excited I became about it. I can recall one day during that week, where I really felt like our team goal to win state finally became totally mine. I wanted it so bad—it’s like everything finally clicked. Everything we’d been working for was finally here, and I was finally living everything that before, I’d just heard about.

Throughout the season, we’d formulated quite a bit of a rivalry between two other class B schools. The girls of "Not to be mentioned" High School were a totally different breed of cheerleader than we were. Whenever they stormed into a room, everyone around them felt a mixture of intimidation and intense annoyance. Their demeanor read so arrogant that you couldn’t help but not like them. (I realize now, that our perception of them was probably totally blinded by competitiveness) But it didn’t matter what we thought of them. We didn’t have the space in our brains to hate them. We were trained to concentrate on ourselves and no one else mattered. We had to have the best performance we’ve ever had. On Saturday, we a had to beat ourselves.

When Saturday finally came, we had to get serious. Even though we’d had a lot of fun getting recognized at school for our accomplishments, when our bus pulled into the arena parking lot, we were all business. I’d never been so nervous during a warm up, but it was all too overwhelming. They were good, but we’d proved that we could hang with the best and I was confident that we would be fine. The first glimpse we had of the crowd was when we lined up for the parade. All the teams were lined up on the mat while each team’s cheering section tried to out cheer the other teams’. When the high school singer finished the national anthem, it was finally time.

There I was, huddled with my teammates absorbing the last words of wisdom before we went out onto the mat for the first time. I knew the crowd had to be loud, by the way they were all jumping and waving signs, but I couldn’t hear them. I was so focused; it was like my team and I were all in a plastic soundproof bubble. Our minds were too busy to interact with our ears. I especially, was going over every motion, every jump, every word, every movement that I remembered practicing over a trillion times. I could hear Jones and Angie’s voices in my head. I recalled all the criticism, I knew what I had to go out there and do. Even with all the self-reassurance going on inside my head, I still felt like the minute I stepped on the mat, I would forget it all.

As I performed during that first round, all I could think about was trying to convince the judges with everything I had, that we deserved their attention and high scores. When I wasn’t trying to send telepathic messages to the judges, my eyes were glued to my two coaches soaking in their silent encouragement, which pushed me to go even harder.

I was so thankful when the first round ended perfectly. We left the mat still filled with the same amount of adrenaline that we entered with. We were hungry for more, we were ready for more, the day was still young, and we were riding high.

By the second round we were feeling the pressure. We’d performed like we wanted to, but the other teams had really stepped it up. We knew we had to have a monumental third round to end the day like we hoped. It was our last chance. At the start of the third round I could feel my whole body shake with nervousness.

So there I was, standing at the mat. By now my face had reached at least to the feeling of a 110 degree fever. This was our very last chance. I couldn’t stress that enough to myself. Round three was the longest round, with a maximum of two minutes and thirty seconds, but after we were finished, I really couldn’t remember what I had just did because it went by so fast. The next thing that happened really caught my by surprise; we were all hugging each other trying to hold on to the excitement as long as we could, when suddenly, we all simultaneously started bawling. At first I really didn’t know why I was crying. I’m sure to other people, we seemed crazy, all of us standing in a huddle crying like that. But then the realization that I would never be able to work with this same group of people again, and we would never have this same exact team again, hit me like a ton of bricks. Which, of course, caused me to cry even harder, and mumble random “I’ll miss you’s” to my senior teammates who I now feared, and loved like my own sisters.

It was all over, we could do no more. We didn’t have the chance to go back home and improve more, or anything like that, it was all in the hands of the judges now. Turns out, those hands couldn’t be trusted as much as we thought, to correctly evaluate our performance and we left the arena with a fourth place finish out of ten. Finding out that we didn’t win, filled me with feelings of confusion, hurt, and betrayal by the judges that I thought I could depend on. I thought they picked up on all of the passion that we were screaming in their faces—literally, we said the word “passion” about eight times in that cheer. In my heart at that moment I was sure that we didn’t deserve fourth place. Looking back now, I know that, the whole experience was about much more than winning. I learned so much more that day and that season, about life that I ever thought I could learn from cheerleading. I learned how to really intensely go after what I wanted, holding nothing back and leaving feeling like I couldn’t have done anything different. I take this lesson with me throughout school now; I can now channel the same feeling of intensity and passion that I got from cheerleading into my schoolwork so that I can accomplish something greater. I can still recall all sorts of things that my two coaches would say to us to inspire us to be the best. Jones took a tougher approach telling us that cheerleading wasn’t fun until you started winning. Which to some people may seem harsh, but it definitely worked for us. Hearing her say that made me want to work hard so that I could experience that fun. It pushed me to be diligent, a trait that I can apply to anything.

Angie on the other hand, was more sentimental and always tugged at our heartstrings. She always told us that there was only one degree between boiling water, and just hot water. And she pushed us to think of what we would do to inch ourselves past that one degree. Now I try to strive to be boiling with everything that I do.

"oh right, you're GOD...duh."

I just wanted to take a second and tell you...and by 'you' I mean my mom and best friends, and anyone else who accidentally reads my blog...any way, enough with my pathetic-ness.

I just wanted to say that Jesus, is really really awesome. And if you don't know Him, I suggest you get to know Him, you couldn't ask for a better best friend.

He just always has my back...even when I don't deserve it--which is like, next to never....probably never-- even when I don't ask.

It's crazy.

I mean, to know that He loves you, despite the fact that he knows all of your crap.
You can't help but love Him back, you can't help but love yourself.

I don't know why it amazes me every time he answers a prayer of mine. I'm like, "oh right, you're GOD...duh."

Then I laugh to myself and people probably think I'm crazy.

Even during a time of crisis. He's got our backs. Even when we cannot FATHOM why something is happening, and it frustrates us cause we want to understand so bad so we can justify it, or feel some peace, we can still know that God understands; He can fathom why, He can justify it, He's got it under control.

That's gotta be somewhat comforting right? To know that SOMEONE is in control when we're not.

"I'll carry you, when you need a friend, you'll find my FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND." Leona Lewis.

I love that song.

SHARING ITUNES= INVASION OF PRIVACY...KINDA

It feels so invasive...listening to someone else's Itunes. for me, my itunes is like...practically my diary.

Every different facet of my personality is represented in the music that I have. I wonder if my itunes comes up on the shared list for other people in my hall.

That's weird. I should figure out how to turn that off.

I'm not sure I want the people in my dorm to know that I have the Hannah Montana soundtrack in there. It's ok for people who know me to know that...cause they would get it. Other people however, might...not. They might think I secretly wear a Hannah Montana T-shirt under my clothes at all times....Same goes for the High School Musical soundtracks. Dang it.

But it IS an excellent way to discover new music. It's not stealing, you can't keep anything, you can only listen...and only when that person is accessing itunes. It's probably the best thing I've discovered today. Even better than when I discovered that Sun Dried Tomato and Basil sauce tastes good with Caramelized Onion and Roasted Garlic sauce. Much better...

Still missing my ipod,

Jillana

Favorite Song of the Day: The Afters

Never Going Back To Ok:

WATCH FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS: THIS IS A SUBLIMINAL MESSAGE.

Friday Night Lights is basically the best show ever.

I don't know how else to describe it. What sucks is that, the critics...love it, but it can't find an audience.

My theory is that, the network took the title too seriously and started airing it on Friday nights.

The audience they should be vying for--teenagers, I think--is out on Friday nights. Although, the show can really relate to everyone, from every age group.

Only the losers, i.e....me, are staying in to catch the best show on the face of the planet.

Maybe...they should air it Wednesday nights, I don't know.

But what I love about the show is that it is SOOO real.

It's like a really good sports film, where you cry your eyes out from all of the defeat, then the triumph...but it's like...ONCE A WEEK, it doesn't have to end after two hours!

What could be better, right?!?

Really though, up until recently, when I watched some behind-the-scenes stuff online, I kept having to convince myself that these people weren't real. I mean, I can get into Gossip Girl, I can pretty much believe that Blake Lively IS Serena Van Der Woodsen. But, I still know, that she's Blake, playing Serena.

But, these actors are so good, that for a while I just thought that they found real Texas natives to play the parts of these characters. Little did I know, most of the actors are straight out of Hollywood, and to my shock, their Texan accents...not real.

Another thing that I love love love about the show is that they don't rehearse formally and they don't have marks on the floor. Their scenes aren't choreographed, they have free reign on where they want to move, and most of what they want to say, it's like watching the Real World, but it's way less stupid.

I really don't know how to put into words my love for this show. Unlike any other show I watch, including One Tree Hill-which is another favorite of mine-I connect to these characters the most. If I ever met any of the actors from the show in real life, I would probably feel like they were my best friends...even though that might freak them out.

Anyway, I really don't want this show to disappear, and if people don't start watching it, and if the stinkin' Emmy people don't start acknowledging it...that just might happen :( and then I will be sad. Just like that emoticon.

WATCH FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS, FRIDAYS AT 9PM ON NBC

ps. u can watch every single episode online for free on http://www.nbc.com/Friday_Night_Lights/ so wanting to catch up is not an excuse!

Favorite Song of the Day

Chasing Pavements by Adele

live:



music video:



favorite cover:

I LIVE LIFE AT HIGHER DECIBELS

Maybe I'm still missing my IPod. I don't know....
but I was bored, so I made this graphic thingy with a phrase that I use a lot when my mom or dad tells me to turn down my music. It actually didn't take that much effort on my part. I found the headphones online. So, no copyright infringement intended. Didya hear that copyright police?

IT AIN'T MINE, AND I DIDN'T SAY IT WAS.

ok. now that that's cleared up.

You Tube Covers

Have you ever just spent a lot of time sitting on You Tube watching video after video of people singing other people's songs?....Maybe it's just me. It's great fun though.

Here are some of my favorites....

THE MJ AND MITCHIE SHOW THEME SONG!

ONE OF THOSE FACEBOOK THINGIES

25 RANDOM THINGS ABOUT ME.

1. I drive myself crazy...a lot.

2. I wish I were Ethiopian so I could use that as a cool fact.

3. I like to write, but often times feel like I'm no good at it.

4. I secretly wish I was a drummer

5. I like music, and often rely on it too much.

6. I wanna go to London...real bad, and I don't even know why...i just do.

7. I think I'm a little OCD

8. I like sports movies, but don't really like watching sports that much.

9. I love God, but sometimes think I'm annoying Him. But He never gets annoyed...which is like a fun fact in itself.

10. I'm a little bit of a loner sometimes, and other times I like to be social.

11. I like to make movies.

12. My favorite TV show right now is Friday Night Lights.

13. I spend too much time watchin TV

14. I kind of have this dream of me bein an actress...but I have no idea if I can actually act.

15. I wish my life were a musical, and I'm totally aware of the corniness of this statement.

16. Sometimes when I'm trying to be funny, I just offend people. And sometimes people laugh, and it surprises me, every time.

17. My 17th birthday was spent at a football game I was cheering for, and the whole student section said 'happy birthday' to me, that was cool, and probably a good memory of high school for me, even though it's kinda lame.

18. I have 2 blogs that I like to plug, even though I get a little insecure every time someone tells me that they've read it.

19. Ooh! I'm 19 right now. Even though u could have seen that on my profile.

20. I really dread turning 20. I'm gonna feel so lost, not being a teenager.

21. I have a confused looking dog, named Toucan Sam...which is probably why he's confused.

22. I wanna be a film critic, a director, singer, sports writer, photographer. Too many things.

23. I feel like a big family is in the future for me. Like, it's kind of inevitable, since I come from one...I couldn't imagine life any other way.

24. Someone asked me if my parents were cool today, and I didn't know how to answer, but now I'm thinkin they're pretty cool.

25. I wish I were friends with America Ferrera.

Lost without my tunes.

Today, I was unable to listen to music on my way to class.

Unlike my brilliant friend Carly, (click link here-- see Carly's blog ) :) It wasn't my choice not to have my own personal theme song playing in my head.

Because of technical ipod issues, I had to leave "Lani's pod," as it is affectionately referred to on my computer, in my room.

It was like, an hour total of missed music time. The one hour of my day when I can get lost in my own little world, where I don't have to worry about who's lookin at me, or who's noticing what I'm wearing. For some reason, when you can't hear anything around you, the rest melts away too. There's no insecurity in Jillana's ipod land.

I know those things aren't supposed to matter, and believe me, I tried to remind myself of that continuously today. Because today, when I had to participate in everyone else's land, they mattered. They mattered a lot.

Because I was going to be tune-less, I decided to take this opportunity to talk to God on my way to class. I still did not want to accept the option of mentally being a part of the streets of downtown Atlanta, and my fellow students, so I decided to focus my thoughts upward, and talk to my very best friend.

Unfortunately, that didn't last as long as I hoped. My stupid, unfocused, ADD, human mind was too involved in everyone else's world to focus into God's for more than a minute or two at a time.

Even though today was a little bit of a shock, I was definitely having withdraw pains, I'm sure tomorrow will get better. I can use this opportunity to get closer to God, meet a new friend, who knows really?

Soon enough I'll have my security blanket back, and I'll be back to pretending I have my own 'life soundtrack,' and my life really is a musical. ---which would be AWESOME.

It's a Boy!

     Until I was six years old, my family life consisted of dolls, Disney princesses, and lots and lots of pink. Every little girl likes to play with Barbies dolls when they are young, but my sisters and I got so many of them, that every Christmas, our living room looked like Barbie's dream house had thrown up. Our house reeked of femininity, and my two sisters and I, were a trio of the girliest girls in the world.

     Our "girl power" lifestyle came to a screeching halt in the two seconds that it took my mom's OBGYN doctor to announce, "it's a boy."

     I'll admit, I was a little disappointed to hear that instead of a third sister, I was going to get a brother. I understood that boys were different, but I did not think that adding a male sibling into the mix, our whole family dynamic would soon be turned upside down.

     I was pleased to realize that I was no longer the middle child. In the short five years of my life, I had already developed a complex being in the middle of my two sisters. My older sister still received the perks and pitfalls of being the oldest, and my younger sister will always be the "baby girl," but I was free from the Jan Brady-like stigmas of being the middle child.

     My brother M.J. received the long awaited "Jr." title. Contrary to the predictions of some who thought that because we had so many girls in the family, he would turn out to be a little feminine and spoiled, he grew to be the most masculine little boy I have ever seen. When he was only one, he picked up a basketball for the first time and in his little baby voice, declared "Baw!" That orange piece of rubber has been permanently attached to his hand ever since.

     The first prominent moment when I realized that life as I knew it would never be the same, happened on a summer day in Charlotte, North Carolina.

     I had just woken up to find my sister Jannelle, watching the Puzzle Place on PBS. Cheerfully sitting down to join her, because the Puzzle Place was my favorite show, I looked over to find my mother video tapping M.J. crawling around on the carpet.

     I wondered what was so fascinating about a baby, and why my mother seemed to have the lens glued to her eye, in an effort to capture his every move. My ability to do five cartwheels in the length of our family room and to belt out my favorite song from Sunday school were far more interesting than his baby noises, so I went over to try and steal some camera time from my small baby brother.

     To my surprise, when I reached the corner where my mother was sitting, I was showered with what seemed like water, but it accompanied a farting noise that had escaped from M.J.'s mouth. I could not believe that he just spit on me. None of my sisters would ever think to do something so gross. I was shocked to realize that such a young child could be so corrupted to think that shooting saliva onto my face was anything close to acceptable.

     I immediately screeched and ran away form the horrendous little monster that was once my brother and my sister Jannelle did the same. M.J. however, felt as if our running away was a signal for him to continue to chase us around the room, and spit on us. 

Soon, Julie awoke form her night's sleep and joined the chase. She should have saved herself from the monster, but being only three, she also felt as if M.J.'s behavior was funny, and some sort of game.

     Ever since, our house has never been the same. To make matters worse, we have added another boy child to the dynamic, giving M.J. a partner in crime. Our house seemed to split according to gender, because my dad finally had people to relate to. He no longer enjoyed spending hours in Toys R Us checking out the latest occupation that Barbie had ventured into, and she was soon replaced with Bionicles, Legos, and Power Ranger action figures.

The one day I decide to work out...

I see Chris and Kyle Massey at our school's fitness center.

In case you were wondering, Kyle Massey plays Cory on That's So Raven, and Cory in the House on the Disney Channel, and Chris plays Michael on Zoe 101 on Nickelodeon.

While no one else in the gym seemed to notice or care that they were sitting there, on the inside, I was totally geeking out.

I mean, these kids are BIG in my family. Our whole house stopped when That's So Raven came on, all of us kids loved watching the new episodes of Zoe 101 together, we would quote their lines for weeks on end, and the funniness would never wear off.

My sisters and I mighthave been a little out of the target audience towards the later seasons, but it didn't matter. Spending that time with our younger brothers helped bridge the age gap between us I think. I mean, I don't know too many 19-year-olds who are as close with their 10-year-old brothers as I am with mine.

I was processing all of this in my head as I was passing by them, trying not to linger, so this was all happening in the course of only like 30 seconds.

As soon as that shock wore off, I sort of came to the realization that they were two normal teenage boys.

They are extremely talented, but it would probably have been totally awkward going up to two strange--even though I FEEL like I totally know them--boys, and like.....well I don't know what I would have done actually, I hadn't gotten that far in my head.

I always wondered what I would do if I ever met someone famous. I guess now I know that I would hide behind a wall and call my sister.

The more I thought about the whole situation, the more I wished I had the guts to go and say something because of the importance they had in our family bond. Besides, Mario and Luigi, they are probably the most well liked brothers in our house.

We didn't always eat together every night because of various sports team practices or mommy's favorite, "free nights," which basically meant we were on our own, but we DID watch TV together. And while some may say that families need to get away from the TV and spend "real" time together, that was real time for us. Real, quality time.

So would I thank them? They had no knowledge that they contributed to the closeness of my family.

My friends wanted to work out anyway, so I just went along with them, second guessing my decision the whole time.

My dad said that if HE were there, he would've said something.

As he said this to me on the phone, I realized he probably would have said a lot more than 'hi' and made the situation all the more awkward, so I started to be really grateful that he WASN'T there.

But in the end, I didn't regret not saying anything. I guess geeking out inside my mind was enough for me. My whole family was calling me a 'chicken' for not being their champion and getting an autograph or a picture. But, in my defense...I was going to the fitness center with the notion that I was going to work out, and not to scope out celebrities, so I didn't have anything for them to sign, or my camera on me. :)

The Road Warriors

I was sitting in the back of our eight-year-old, purple Plymouth Voyager, pulled over on the side of the highway in downtown Charlotte, North Carolina. It was two o'clock in the morning and we were rocking back and forth as cars, vans, trucks and semis whizzed past at 80 miles per hour.

I was packed in the seven seat minivan, accompanied by my rather large family of seven who fit perfectly into our family car. Dad was driving; Mom was in the passenger seat. Behind her was my older sister Jannelle, listening to her Ipod loud enough for the whole car to hear. I was behind my dad enduring the multiple kicks to the butt from my brother whose legs were still short enough to get a good swing before slamming his sketcher into my seat. Also in the back was my younger brother Mitchell whining form being squished, and my younger sister Julie whining about how Mitchell's whining was getting on her nerves.

Besides riding for 20 hours (aka forever), listening to endless arguing and countless "are we there yets?" in a mini van full of Game Boys, CD Players, food, blankets, pillows, and the six people I am forced to claim, family trips don't really bother me.

My father, whom I call "The Road Warrior," because he is very adept at driving miles without resting, had the brilliant idea to take the risk of driving the "purple van" all the way to Warner Robins, Georgia. The van already had 100,000 miles on it, be he figured we would be fine; he recently had almost everything fixed on that van. Everything but the water pump.

He is always willing to literally go the extra mile to get to our destination. My dad will not stop for food even when we are starving, and he will make us hold our pee until we feel as if our bladders are going to burst.

Before we left our house for this particular trip, my dad presented his usual speech and the departure conversation between he and my mom was the same.

"No liquids!" He said before we even pull out of the driveway, "I'm not stoppin' every five minutes!"

My mom, the voice of reason said, "Michael, they're gonna dehydrate!"

Then he gave us a lighter sentence and told us to try not to drink anything.

We had made it all the way to Kentucky when my parents realized that something was wrong with the car. Of course I was oblivious to anything that was going on, we kids had fallen asleep hours ago. My parents made the conscience decision to make it to Charlotte, because my dad knew of a place we could stop for the night.

Well, we made it to Charlotte, our goal was accomplished. But when my overambitious dad decided that we should try and make it to the other side of Charlotte, the suburbs, where we used to live, is where we ran into trouble.

That is how we ended up pulled over on the side of the highway in the middle of the night. We were riding down the familiar streets of downtown Charlotte when, after a huge popping noise; my dad quickly pulled us over to "safety."

We probably pulled over at the worst spot on the interstate. He had to so quickly, that we ended up kind of right next to the exit. Cars were whizzing by so close, that if I had put my hand out of the window, I would have come back with a nub.

I woke up confused and wondered why my dad had just pulled over so quickly. When I realized that we were stuck, I suprisingly didn't spring into a fit a fear and fury but I stayed calm. I was scared on the inside, but it didn't show. I knew God was in control, and my dad would figure something out.

We sat on the side of the highway for hours as my dad called every car rental place at the Charlotte airport. As he discovered, no one in their right mind would bring us a rental car at two in the morning.

Hertz, after putting us on hold forever, told us that there was no way they could bring us a car. We called Avis and no luck there either. Finally, we called Enterprise because their slogan is "We'll pick you up." Turns out what they really meant, is "We'll pick you up any time except for 2 o'clock in the morning." Instead, the nice lady working the night shift, called the police to come pick us up. Close enough.

It was our first attempt to go back to Georgia since we'd moved, and this is what happens.

When the police finally showed, he immediately realized that he should have called for back up. How was he going to fit six people in his little patrol car?

Realizing his dilemma, I laughed at what the policeman must have been thinking.

Six of us piled into the North Carolina state patrol car, while my dad stayed with the van and waited for the tow truck. Mom and Mitchie sat in the front seat next of our nameless hero, Jannelle sat in the back with M.J. on her lap and Julie and I squeezed in close proximity. I could see the excitement in my brother's faces as the policeman turned on his siren and sped down the street in pursuit of a hotel for us to stay the night.

Noticing their excitement, my mom said, "This better be the last time you two are in a police car." We all laughed and M.J. enlightened us on he deja vu experience. The last time my dad broke down in Charlotte because of his ambitious nature, he and M.J. also had to be picked up by the police, atleast they got some donuts out of it, but that's a whole 'nother story.

We found our place to set up camp, but our adventure wasn't over. Someone was really trying to test my patience that day, because first we waited on the side of the road, and now we were waiting in the hotel lobby watching the news as the hotel clerk tried to get us a room.

"Well we're really not supposed to have seven people in one of these rooms," the clerk said. My mom tried to persuade him to let us have a room for just one night, and he contemplated whether or not to be a Good Samaritan and risk his job.

It was times like these when I wondered why my parents didn't stop having kids after me. With this many kids, we were always squeezing into things. First, we had to squeeze into the police car, now we were squeezing into a one bedroom hotel "suite."

After spending the night curled up on the pull out couch with my brothers and sister, with no blanket, I was looking forward to spending the day in the van; at least there I had my own seat. Dad and Jannelle went to pick the car up from the mechanic, while the rest of us stayed to eat our complimentary stale hotel bagels and yogurt.

Soon enough we were back in our purple prized possession. Little did we know, this trip to Georgia would be the old van's last, and soon she would be replaced by a newer, shinier one complete witha DVD and six disc changer.

We packed all of our things, and prepared to forge ahead on our journey to Georgia. The rest of the trip was uneventful compared to that night, and we immediately went back to our normal ways like we'd been through nothing.

After the events of the night before, we could all call ourselves Road Warriors. We had endured things that made regular family trips seem boring.

Now when we take family trips, we have more space and we watch DVDs the whole way there. Even though we are more comfortable, and in a brand new van, I often find myself missing our old van and how our trips used to be. Uncomfortable, annoying, long, but full of memories. Even though I don't wish for us to break down again, I will always remember the night that the Jones family bond was tested, and our adventure when the Road Warriors hit a speed bump.