Facebook....
It is the only place where it is acceptable to talk to a wall=P
This is one of the waitresses on the ship.
I had to get a picture with her because I thought she looked very much like Mrs. Melissa Pommerening. Not necessarily in the face, but the way she did her hair (and she's blonde like mrs. pomm) , her height, and how she moved in general.
Rebecca, Mom and I at Rum Cake factory. (It was part of the tour)
Our pretty toes=)
Me, Rebecca, Mom and our awesome tour guide.
Mom, me and rebecca swimming in the ocean of the coast of the cayman islands=)
He didn't have a patch...so i was helpin' him out, ya know?
Yes, while we were in the Cayman Islands we visited a place called Hell.
It was titled this because the ocean had receded at this specific place and left coral that died and turned black, appearing like brimstone.
So, of course they made a big tourist attraction out of it.
And thankfully they were telling the Good News too=)
=)
Elegant Night
My family and our two waiters, Indrayana and Antara (both from Indonesia).
Antara dancing during one of the dinner shows.
Daddy and Rebecca on one of the two elegant nights.
Rebecca, Mom and I at one of the cruise casual dinners.
Daddy enjoying his hot chocolate...Although, his etiquette treated it like tea, lol.
Dear Dinner,
Prepare to die!
In case you cannot read this..it is part of the menu that says "Grilled Breast of Corn Fed Chicken."
So wait...WHO CARES WHAT THE CHICKEN ATE!?!?!
hehe
Corrigendum ~ a mistake to be corrected, especially an error in a printed book.
The Chic Dining Room where we dined every night.
(Pictures of our waiters to come later)
Each dinner was completed with a starter, main course, dessert and a show.
We were in the late dinner setting at 8:15pm and were usually finished by 10:00pm (i know late huh?)
The Victoriana Lounge where all the big shows took place...usually around 10:30pm...so we were ready for bed by the time we got back to our rooms around midnight.
The Main Lobby of the Carnival Freedom was a truly amazing sight. This photo only shows the 4th and 5th levels (the lobby starts on level 3 and the ceiling extends to level 12, very high ceiling indeed)
These are my two traveling companions...Kangaroo and Duck (i know lame names right??)
When we return from the trip I will be able to share with you the adventures of Kangaroo and Duck through pictures I will be taking if these two doing all the things I will do on this trip=)=)
I just thought a formal introduction might be nice, lol.
| CHEM | 1110 |
| General Chemistry I | A |
|
|
|
|
|
| ENGL | 1020 |
| English Composition II | A |
|
|
|
|
|
| HIST | 2020 |
| Survey American History II | A |
|
|
|
|
|
| MATH | 1530 |
| Elementary Statistics | A |
|
|
|
|
|
| MUS | 1030 |
| Music Appreciation | A
|
|
|
|
(1) the "Darn, I have something stuck in my teeth" look.
(2) the "YES! I got it out!" look=)
(3) the "oh, you were watching me???" look.
Yep, gotta love school functions, lol.
Awww it matches me!
BIG BOW!
too big! for a FAT HEAD!!!
awww it matches=)
The shorty Graduate=)
Dunno what she sad about=P (but my new sunglasses are so cute=)
fat lips, lol
New headband! (my hair looks really blonde here!)
Awww now we happy=)
Anyone know why I took this picture in Kroger?
(yellow roses, my favorite=)
=)=)
I wanted to buy them for myself...but it wouldn't be special;)
Aren't they gorgeous=)
My parents gave me these at my Phi Theta Kappa induction!
Awwww aren't they sweet=)
Casey UP on the monkey bars....lil monkey!
Paxton
Spinning!
Awww Lillian being the cutie she is=)
THE ROOM
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room.
There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to
catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some
were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth.
Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.
I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it
and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.
And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this
room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.
No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw
a sorrow deeper than my own.
He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again.
He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name
of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.
He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
- Brian Moore
