Friday, December 28, 2012

2012 Resolutions Resolved - Part 2

11.  Become a more avid blogger.
—This depends on your definition of ‘avid’. While I don’t believe I’m an avid blogger, the key word in that phrase (at least, I’m taking it that way) is more. My posts (though not many) are more consistent and the Faithful Few has gained a few members.

12.  Memorize a Bible passage at least once a month.
—I didn't do one a month, but I did compete in the local Bible Bee, so I ended up memorizing more than I would have. Good/bad...?

13.  Read a book at least once a week.
—*cough*. Well, junior year was a bit harder than expected. Senior year... well, now I'm just lazy.

14.  Perfect an Irish accent.
—Though not perfected, it’s much closer.

15.  Write/video at least four skits for Purple Ninjas.
—Ha. Haha. Yeah…

16.  Talk to people that I don’t normally.
—I’m not really sure. I think I’ve gone through a bit of a personality change, so I’m not sure who counts as people-I-didn't-talk-to-in-2011.

17.  Write a song that isn’t stupid.
—Well, I did write a song (or at least part of one), but I’m not sure if it’s stupid or not.

18.  Spend more time studying – and  do well without guessing  in school.
—(Senior year, because I can’t remember back to junior). Economics was easy to study because I enjoyed it. Latin is proving more difficult. English lit is… meh. But I’ve got to convince myself that I don’t have to enjoy it to do well.

19.  Keep my areas of the house clean… and maybe areas that aren’t technically ‘mine’.
—Many people would disagree, because they only remember the messy days, but I believe that for the majority of the time I have become a neater person.

20.  And…  maybewearskirtsmoreoften.
—I can’t even count how many times I wore a skirt this year. That’s a pretty big deal for me. And the scary part is… sometimes I did it without anyone telling me to.

How did your resolutions go?

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Merry Christmas!

Waking up and immediately getting sick is a horrid way to start the day. Even worse when you remember that day is Christmas.

But I won't bother you with details. Instead, enjoy this video.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Leona Danielle "Danni" Splitter

{betcha didn't know i had this, huh? ;P}
--is literately one of the best friends I could ever hope to have.

--loves to annoy me, expecially by pronouncing words wrong. ;)

--is the Weird to my Wacky

--the one I play sudoku with

--gets drunk on capri sun with me

--watches epidsodes of our favorite anime when we can't think of anything else to do

--always the first to say "I love you"

--quick to offer (and sometimes demand) hugs

--turns seventeen today. Happy birthday, Danni!!! :)

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Thursday, December 13, 2012

2012 Resolutions Resolved - Part 1

1.  Schedule things out with the knowledge that they probably won’t happen – just to test flexibility. ;)
—Totally happened. Keep reading and you’ll see.

2.  Try out a new recipe at least once a month (just twelve; can’t be that bad, right?).
—Turns out, it was that bad. I think I learned… what, two?

3.  Completely restore the backyard to its former glory (assuming it had some).

4.  Get a job. (Joanne Fabrics, a barn… Joanne Fabrics…)
—Also nope. I did, however, discover that it's spelled J-O-A-N-N (no E).

5.  Finish writing a book.
—I wish. I’m getting closer, though. It’ll happen. Someday.

6.  Sew a medieval dress.
—Finally! A success!

7.  Improve guitar skills.
—I believe I did. I’m picking up strumming patterns much more quickly than I did at the start of the year, learned a whole slough of chords, wrote my ow- wait, that’s for part two.

8.  Make impossible goals and be insanely surprised that they happen.
—So far, not so surprised.

9.  Train the dog to do something other than ‘sit’.

10.  Sing in public without passing out or having a zombie-moment.
—This one I did do - multiple times, actually. And I have awesome friends that encouraged me/put up with me, making the whole thing a lot easier.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Saturday, December 1, 2012

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Treeee...

Christmas isn't sneaking up on me this year. We've got carols blasting at every opportunity, the many sets of mismatched decorations are in their own special places, I don't have a great head start on getting presents together but I've got a decent plan, the tree's up and almost decorated...

Wait, the tree?! The Swanson's don't get trees. They only have the fake ones with pathetic plastic boughs and spattering of lights that don't come on half the time.

But here I am, breathing in the piney goodness. It's the best smell in the world after maple-frosted donuts.

Sorry the picture's dark, but that's the best my camera could get. It's a little lopsided. The star bumps the ceiling. The lights aren't symmetrical. All in all, it's not a tree you'll find in the magazines anytime soon. But it's a beautiful tree. :') Soon it'll be covered in all sorts of popsicle-stick/felt/foam ornaments we made a decade ago and should have thrown out then. Ah, memories.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|
(PS - On the topic of NaNo... I finished with a grand total of not-even-close. Ahem.)

Friday, November 23, 2012


This was my first Thanksgiving away from home in a long, long time. In fact... I'm not sure if I've ever spent Thanksgiving away from home. Huh. Thankful for new experiences!

Anyway, if not at home, where does one spend Thanksgiving? Most of our extended family is three thousand miles away. A bit far to travel for only a few days. So we settled for three hundred miles. Pensacola. Pensacola Christian College, to be exact.

Some Pros and Cons of Thanksgiving at PCC -

+ We got to see the place where my brother is going to be spending the next four/five years of his life. It's an extremely structured yet extremely friendly faith-centered college that'll suit Ben well. Good food. Neat sports center. Nice teachers. Do-able study programs. Good food. Nuff said?

- We got to see the place where my brother is going to be spending the next four/five years of his life. Without me there, reminding him to act like a civilized person. I'm starting to panic.

+ Good food! I know I mentioned it - I'm not that spacey - but they truly do have good food. Ben's gonna get chubby. That doesn't really belong next to a +sign, but with good food, ya can't complain.

At the alumni basketball game, their mascot, the Eagle, threw candy while I was zoned out. I cried 'cause I got hit in the eye with, ironically, a crybaby (sour gum). Alyx cried* because she didn't get any candy and didn't find any in my hair**.

The environment was incredible. Awkward eye-contact was made less awkward because everyone smiled. Getting lost wasn't a problem because there was always someone there to start to give directions, realize I wasn't understanding a word, and offer to go out of their way to walk with me. 

Skirts. For three days I had to wear skirts. Blech.

...Holy cow, Thanksgiving is gone already? *goes to turn on radio*...

Christmas music.

Okay, I'm done now. How was your Thanksgiving?

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|
*Alyx would like me to say that 'crying' in this case means less tears and more whining.
**I tend to lose things in my hair. Breanna once found a lollipop (with a wrapper, of course).

Thursday, November 8, 2012

NaNoWriMo Strategy - Week 1

--get hyped up on leftover Halloween sugar.

--forget that you missed the first two days. they were well spent.

--hole up in little corners wherever you are. seriously. nobody cares what you're doing in those little corners.

--listen to Irish music.

--get frustrated 'cause you're a perfectionist and everything has to be just right before you move on and the whole quantity-over-quality thing isn't clicking at all.

--be satisfied with the way that you are and remember that you're not writing this book to win a challenge but to maybe publish one day and that better writing now is going to save you a lot of time later.

--then get frustrated again because you remember you're supposed to be saving time now and write better later because it would be so cool to win this challenge.

--get a massive headache when you realize math is somewhat involved with writing when you're trying to figure out how far your characters can travel in one day while going about 2.5 miles an hour.

--now that you're doing math anyway, calculate that you're not writing anywhere near enough to finish in a month. maybe half a year, if you're lucky.

--decide that math sucks. it's now telling you that for the entire seven days you've been writing, you've just barely managed two days of what you're supposed to do.

--let out a huge, dejected sigh and tell yourself that week two will be better.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Thursday, November 1, 2012


November's a month for doing things. Some people do No-Shave November (or, for girls, No-Makeup November). But since I have the fortunate inability to grow hair on my face and I don't wear makeup in the first place, those dares don't really mean much. So I've decided to participate in National November Writing Month, instead. For those of you who don't know, it's a challenge to write 50,000 words in thirty days.

'Cause I'm so dedicated to my writing and won't have a problem finishing a whole book in a month.

*cue insane laughter*

Yeah, okay, that said, I have no idea why I'm attempting NaNoWriMo. In fact, I'm really not. I'm doing the youth version, which has a flexible goal. The standard, however, is 30,000 words, which is perfect (in the loosest sense of the word) for me. A Maiden's Touch has 20,000. Add the youth goal and it'll be a whole novel.

Eventually. I have very low hopes of sticking to the thousand-words-a-day thing. Ha.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Saturday, October 20, 2012

4:12 Camp Out

Whoa. It's been a year already. And only 35 posts between. Boy, am I a horrid blogger...

Ahem. Well, I beg your pardon. Please do forgive me. I have pictures!

The first thing you need to know (or, at least, the first thing I'm going to tell you) is that during this three-day camping trip with my youth group I was on a team called the Turples. It's a silly name that I will not mention who came up with. Second is the competition between us and three other teams in which we involved ourselves in many (unfortunately for my poor aching muscles) physical activities. One of which was taking pictures.

Don't laugh. Just look. It was very, very physically involved. And mainly the reason I'm now sitting in a chair, unable to lift my legs up to cross them.

Anyway. The pictures. We had to meet certain requirements under a certain time. They're in the order they were shot, not the order on the list (which I forgot to get before we came home).

Team member in a tree

Entire team's bare feet

A peacock

Going down a slide all at the same time (from the top down: Kylie, Breanna, Rebekah, Danielle, Mira, Garett, Marcus - and me, behind the camera)

Using a vending machine

Giving a stranger a high five with the other team members giving thumbs-ups in the background

Having a wild west shoot out with another team - thank you, Elephants (see, we're not the only silly ones)

Doing handstands (Kylie, being the only one who could do a real one, took it upon herself to teach the others)

Jumping off a swing (bonus points for jumping the highest - yay, Marcus!)

Building a human pyramid (which those on the bottom layer did not appreciate)

{trying to} Make it look like the team is swimming in the lake

Two Coaches' eyes: one blue...
...and one brown (sorry for the non-flattering pictures)

Acting out a scene from a Coach's favorite movie (first to guess the movie in a comment wins - Breanna and Danielle are exempt from this competition)

The clavicle of David (our pastor, who wouldn't let us take the picture until we could tell him without a doubt what a 'clavicle' was)

Acting out a basketball play (bonus points for being the coolest - not sure how :P)

Spelling out 4:12 using team members' bodies

Five leaves from different trees

Having a stranger hold up a sign that says '4:12' (which doesn't show up on camera)

The inside of David's tent (which turned out to be a crazy hammock thing)

Fitting ten marshmallows in a team member's mouth


Scariest picture (lost, but we were close)

"I can't believe we all fit!" (it's a firepit - can't remember if we won or not)

Most Creative picture (won - I'll leave you to figure out the creativity in it)

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Monday, September 24, 2012

My Crazy Life

It's been a busy week. One that dragged on and on. Some good things happened and some not-so-good things happened. Monday afternoon my parents went up to Jacksonville for Dad's work. Monday night, or Tuesday morning, really, somebody {unsuccessfully} broke into the car. Tuesday and Wednesday were a blur of cancelling outings, trying to make it to some, deciding whether or not Mom and Dad should come home early, and running back and forth with duct tape and trash bags to protect the door from rain.

{officially terrified of car alarms now}

Thursday I went to Freedom Ride and Momma picked me up (I don't think I've ever been that excited leaving FR). Friday, we went to Give Kids the World to volunteer at the Gingerbread House (restaurant) and had a friend spend the night. Saturday we dragged said friend along with us to a CAP open house, and while she spent the night again, I went to a different sleepover at which many strange things happened, so if you hear me say, "Where's my baby?" in a creepy voice, don't be alarmed. Sunday we had friends over after church and I had a bit of a bad attitude for things not related to my friends, but I am very sorry that they had to witness it. :(

But yeah. It's over. A new week has begun.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Tuesday, September 11, 2012


I was five years old. Joy and I, the only girls in our co-op classroom, were tired of sitting in our little corner, and when our teachers vanished for some reason, we saw the opportunity and took it. In no time flat we had dominated the room, building a massive (you know, for two five-year-old girls) fort that the boys weren't allowed to go near. After we got bored of flaunting it, we sat inside and told each other stories. We took toys and built up our treasure store. The boys eventually knocked our fort down and we hollered at each other for a while.

Meanwhile, our teachers were in a back room, watching the TV. As we terrorized the boys, our country was being attacked. As our fort fell, so did the World Trade Center. As we yelled and fought, thousands of people were dying.

Any one of them would have gladly been a five-year-old in a co-op classroom.

Monday, August 13, 2012

Apologetic Snippets

I have been informed by someone *cough*dad*cough* that I don't blog enough. I already knew this. And I've been trying to come up with a solution. So far it hasn't presented itself, and I'm too lazy to try harder.

Here's the dilemma. I can't come up with anything interesting for you guys. When I do, it's few and far between. So far I've been posting snippets of my writing, but you don't seem much entertained by that. Ideas, anybody...? I dunno. This blog is for you. Mainly for me, but also for you. So tell me what you want to read, kay?

In the meantime, here's another much dreaded snippet. (Bethanie, you've already read this one.)


It’s not my first time in juvie; at least I have that much. I’m not a very adventurous person. And non-adventurous people like me should never have to endure this many first-time-experiences in one day. Juvie is kind of relaxing after it all. I sit cross-legged on a cold concrete floor, clutching an ugly yellow purse in my lap. As much as I hate the color, I can’t seem to let the dumb thing go. It’s amusing, actually, since I’ve only had it for about… I glance at my watch. Two hours.
I sigh and rest my head back against the wall. Has it really only been two hours? My skin is already starting to crawl in this make-up. It might have something to do with this being the lousiest identity theft job I’ve ever done - one of the many firsts today held - but it’s probably all in my head. Surely I wouldn’t be this nervous if I wasn’t worried about Barbra.
That was the first first that happened today. Barbra got kidnapped. First time anyone dared to go after Bobbi Chance or her sister. Today, not only did they dare, but they succeeded. I press the purse tighter against my stomach, trying to suppress the queasiness I feel. Even if I get Barbra back, I’ll never be able to live this down.
Think, Bobbi. Right, think. How did I end up here?
After I got back from the store and discovered that Barbra was gone, I found a letter on the kitchen table. I suppose one could call it a ransom note. But the exchange wasn’t for money; it was a job. I was to delete a file on Agent Jonah Zhang’s laptop by any means necessary. It will be easy, the letter said — It may appear too easy. But if I wanted my sister back, I’d do it. And I did.
Becoming Melissa, Zhang’s daughter, was easy enough — I had the make-up and the clothes, and the props, too, after I raided an unlocked car near Zhang’s phony bank. “That girl’s crazy if she misses you,” I murmur down to the purse. I fiddle with the enormous black buckle on the front. Plastic, my fingers tell me. Not that it’s important to know.
My head lolls back again, forcing me to stare up at the pulsing fluorescent lights. Now that I think about it, the clerk seemed really nervous when he pointed me toward Zhang’s office. I thought at the time that he was just frightened of Melissa. But now I realize he’d probably been tipped off. There’s no way I could have fooled anyone who actually knew Melissa Zhang that I was her.
Zhang wasn’t in his office. That didn’t clue me in, and neither did the laptop conveniently booted up, centered on the maple desk. The embarrassing part is, despite the fact that the only file on the desktop was the one I wanted — ‘Felix Beckett’ — I didn’t see it coming until the file was deleted. That was when my fingers finally clued me in. By the time they started tingling, all I could do was sit back, lean my elbows on the plush armrests, and wait for the cops to storm the office.
And here I sit. For the first time in a while they haven’t tried to scrub the stains off my skin and find out what I really look like. In fact, no one has spoken to me since I got here. I look down at my watch again. 9:23. In another ten minutes, it will be the longest I’ve ever spent in a cell. And I know I’ll beat the record, because with Barbra gone, there’s no one for me to be released to. It looks like I’ll actually be going to court for the first time.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Monday, July 30, 2012

What's in a Name?

Despite what Shakespeare says, I believe a name holds a lot of weight. A rose would simply not smell as sweet if it swapped names with a skunkweed; or, at least, you wouldn't see people so eagerly sticking their noses towards it. But, then again, if in the beginning Adam had named the unfortunate namesake a rose, instead, we would avoid the roseweed and prefer the skunk. And that's just plain confusing, because we've been conditioned to think of a specific thing when we hear a name.


In my case, I've got a ton of names. Each one inspires a different image.

(By the way, I totally meant to attach a deeper meaning to this, but I couldn't come up with one. If you do, feel free to leave it in the comments. I'm just going to resign myself to the fact that this blog is purely quirky.)

The given name. While it's not exactly a secret, not everybody knows it, and it receives interesting reactions. I've heard often "That's a pretty name", commonly "Oh, I thought it was Charlotte", and not a few times "Your real name is Charlene?" It's an elegant name that I've never thought really suits me. But it makes for a bunch of interesting nicknames. ;)

The name. The one I use to introduce myself. The one all my friends know me by. The one that gets the coolest comments ever. The one that, apparently, is impossible to spell. Tack on my middle name, Rae, and you've got my pen name.

Charlenie, Char, & Char-Char.
The common pet names. The first one is my title among my cousins, the second is used by my friends, and the last only (hopefully) by my sister. I'm not particularly fond of any of them, but they don't embarrass the heck out of me. Well, except maybe the first one.

Charcoal & Chuckle-doodle-doo.
The cringe names. The first I absolutely despised until I met Ashley, or Ashes, and realized what a hypocrite I am. The second one I didn't plan on sharing, 'cause when people call me that I turn into Godzilla, but I smile like an idiot when I think of it, 'cause that's what my daddy calls me. And no, that doesn't mean I don't turn into Godzilla when he calls me that.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

I Have Kidnapped My Cousin.

Okay, two statements to make - 1) I have the coolest friends ever, and 2) I am officially a geek.

From left to right: "Adorable Medieval Gal" - Lilly, "Katniss Everdeen" - Breanna, "Merida" - me, "Pocahontas" - Danielle, "Zelda" - Katie, "Susan Pevensie" - Alyx, and "No-one-cool-to-dress-up-as-'sides-it's-too-late-anyway" - Ashley

Saturday afternoon, we went and saw Brave. Awesome movie. Not the best on a Pixar-standard, but still awesome. But, since I refuse to do anything like a normal person, I suggested we dress up. It's kinda freaky that they all listened.

From left to right: "Hawkeye" - Noah, "Robin Hood" - Josh, "Legolas" - Ben

Oh, and another thing - Bethanie says hi. :D

She also says (after giving me a weird look and an "I don't know" and a rather painful headbonk with a book and a "NOO!!!" and another weird look and a bunch of pokes and being temporarily distracted by Alyx's poofy hair), "I loved being Charlenie's surprise! I miss my family, but I like being with the Swansons in Florida. And meeting their hyper and... 'interesting' friends."

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Friday, July 6, 2012

Hi! Random Spaz-Attack, Here!

Again, I must apologize in advance for the picture-less post. Not that text-only is a bad thing, but it can be a little hard on the eyes, so I'm sorry. :(

So... what was I gonna write again...?

Oh. Right. What y'all have missed.

~June 30th, Saturday. 100+ degrees. Paintballing for a buddy's birthday.
It's just as painful as your brothers have told you, people. Or a lot worse, if your brothers pretend to enjoy it. Or, for those of you without brothers, if someone ever tells you, "It's just like a bee sting - you rub it and it's gone" - stare at them long and hard. If they look easy-going, mark them as a liar and be wary. If they're leaning forward eagerly and truly believe what they're saying, mark them as insane and be very wary.
Anyway, it was fun, don't get me wrong. Ignoring the bruises the size of baseballs.

~July 4th, Wednesday. 90-100 degrees. Beach.
Happy belated 4th, by the way! I totally meant to post and plum forgot. Which is normal. *cough*.
Yeah, anyhoo, we went to the beach with friends. The waves were great until we went back for the boogie boards (yes, I'm aware normal people don't call them that) and then, of course ('cause the ocean hates me), the waves went flat. So we tossed around a half-full water bottle, until somebody decided to fill it all the way up and then somebody else grabbed it, with "no idea", and chucked it. Bye-bye water bottle.
And because the ocean hates me, it decided to knock me over and fill my bad ear with water. Which it still has. I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever hear out of this thing again.

~July 6th, Friday. Pleasantly air-conditioned. Home.
Absolutely nothing. :D

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|
{oh, just thought i'd letchya know - there're 'like' buttons now, for those of you who don't comment. :)}

Friday, June 22, 2012

Snippets: Dream Dancer

The streets of Wenatchee were unusually quiet for a cool July evening. A tabby alley cat perched atop a trashcan just outside the door of a fast food restaurant, licking grease off of a paw. That day had been good. The tabby had hit a jackpot in this alley. Sure, a gang from Seattle messed around with a gang from Spokane, but the tabby had managed to get away without being kicked once, and the hubbub of it finally brought the attention of the pretty little Russian Blue that sits in the windowsill of the apartment building next door. He purred with satisfaction and dropped the now-spotless paw. Yes, today was good.
Suddenly a loud, aggravated growl split the air around the tabby, and he started, though the growl was muffled. The can he sat on started to shake and he shot across the top to a nearby dumpster, where he pressed against the wall of the restaurant and hoped that whatever mutt was inside the can wouldn’t notice him. With a thud, the lid burst off and flew over eight feet to hit the side of the apartment building, where it clattered to the ground. But the tabby was no longer concerned - though ‘mutt’ hadn’t been too far off, at least it wasn’t a dog.
A girl slowly climbed out of the can, picking torn wrappers and bits of cheese out of her incredibly long golden ponytail. The tabby recognized her - she had been involved, of sorts, in the gang fight, and she was a regular in this part of town. An ugly scowl on her face, the girl stumbled and sat down hard on the pavement, then made no move to get up. Instead she grabbed the rim of the trashcan and yanked it down beside her. Trash spilled into her lap, which she ignored and promptly reached into the can, pulling out a rather large backpack.
Well, if she wasn’t going to do anything…. The tabby hopped off of the dumpster, landing lightly on his feet, and padded over to root through the trash. This was sort of a regular occurrence. Except, normally she talked.
“They just got lucky,” she muttered angrily. “If they hadn’t snuck up behind you, you woulda torn ‘em apart.”
Yep. There it was.
She snorted, and her voice changed slightly to a higher lilt. “More like she’s the lucky one. If she’d been facing them, they’d have hit a lot harder.”
“Shut up, both of you!” she cried, her voice different once again - lower, softer, yet a lot stronger. She paused for a moment, then leaned back on her palms, seemingly oblivious of the tabby. “’Sides. I never said I’d tear them apart. DJ did.”
“But I only say what you’re thinking,” she pointed out in the first voice.
In the third, her usual, voice, she growled, “I said shut up!”
She fell silent again for another moment. The second, sweeter voice whispered, “’Shut up’ isn’t a very nice thing to say.”
“Don’t talk to me and I won’t have to say it!”
The tabby didn’t really care about her - oh, a half-eaten cheeseburger! Who would throw that away? - but he did get around quite a bit, and he knew that normal humans didn’t talk like that. But he knew the girl’s cats and they didn’t think anything was seriously wrong with her.
“Hey, there, Tabs,” the girl murmured in her normal voice, scratching lightly behind his ear. He leaned into it, but he was too intent on the cheeseburger to look up. “You must think I’m bonkers. Don’t mind me; I’m just upset, that’s all. You always seem to catch me at bad moments.”
She scooted out from underneath the trash pile just as the tabby swallowed the last bit of greasy meat and stale bread. He licked his lips and sat down to watch her heft the backpack onto one shoulder and start down the alley toward the street. She stopped and turned back. “Hey, you haven’t seen Princess anywhere, have you? She’s been missing for a few days.”
The tabby blinked, not sure how exactly to respond to that. No, he hadn’t seen her, but it’s not like he spoke English, or anything. He had seen a couple humans communicate with head gestures, but he’d never been able to figure them out. It didn’t matter, anyway, because before he could do anything, the girl bounced her shoulders and continued on her way.
He blinked again. He liked humans, he honestly did. But he never quite understood why some people just insist on holding conversations with animals. Then again, he didn’t understand why she held a conversation with herself.

This is one of many opening scenes I've got. It's my favorite so far. What do you think?

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Sunday, June 3, 2012

On Rodeos and Dancing

~Friday night was one of the best nights I've had in a long time. Why? Well, as you may have guessed from the title, I went to a rodeo. And not just some random rodeo - Silver Spurs, with two of my best friends.

Performance-wise, it was a little disappointing. The first several cowboys in the steer roping didn't even try. The first several in steer wrestling missed their steers completely. The barrel racers didn't even get under sixteen seconds - they all still did great, but it was a bit of a let down. But, on the other hand, this is coming from a girl in skater shoes with bright neon blue laces.

Still, just being there was fantastic. My back still hurts from sitting on the edge of my seat, my hands are still slightly numb from all the clapping, and my voice is definetly still raw from the screaming and cheering.

(I do have to say - in the junior division of the bull riding, the second kid to go did better than a lot of the men. All I could do was watch with my mouth wide open and count the seconds, growing more and more baffled with each one. When it got to eight, I was like, Okay, you can let go any time now...)

~Saturday night was a celebration! One about graduation. (No, not mine. Still a little early for that.) Some pretty awesome people - such as Christine Subramanyam, who's always full of hugs and sarcastic remarks, Aaron Splitter, my best friend's older brother and a great guitar player, and Miguel Flores, Alyx's-best-friend's-older-brother (whew, mouthful) and a fantastic writer - are leaving homeschool. But not home, hopefully. And, if they continue on to college, not school, either. Kinda backwards, huh...?

Anyhoo, the age requirement for the dance afterwards was fourteen, and since I had a ton of friends graduating, I had no right excuse to miss it. And, as now-fourteen-year-old-Alyx's sister, I was commanded to. So yeah, I went and did the watch-and-mock, which, according to my friend who was trying absolutely everything to get me to dance and win his five-dollar bet, is now a dance. Ha. But seriously, I don't dance.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|
{ps--since we're almost half-way through the year (holy cow!), here's an update on my listy-thinger-ma-bob. 1 is coming along quite nicely, as are 6, 7, 17, and 18. everything else... ha.}

Monday, May 21, 2012

Whoa, There!

"Do not be like the horse or the mule, which have no understanding but must be controlled by bit and bridle or they will not come to you."

~Psalm 32:9

Upon first glancing over this, I got a bit miffed. Horses aren't dumb, and from my perspective, they've got plenty of understanding. And they don't necessarily need a bit to be ridden, much less come to me. So maybe their teeth occupy more space in their heads than their brains, but that doesn't mean they're dumb!

Whoa-ho-ho-hold up, there. First off, did I seriously get miffed by the words of God? (And second, never did He call them dumb, so I'm going to forget I even said that.) But anyway, I half-halted and paused to think about what He really meant there.

I remembered that, when I went trail riding for a friend's birthday a couple weeks ago, the particular horse I was on was feeling rather peckish and swung his head to the side every chance he got to snatch at a juicy cluster of grass or leaves. Every time I had to tug back on the reins and say, "Hello. I'm still up here," he'd grudgingly listen and get back to work. But now I'm relating with the horse instead of the rider.

Often I snatch at the little goodies at the side of the path (computer, books, and other things that vie for my attention) and often I ignore God's tugging at the reins. I get caught up in how good this looks right now and forget that if I'd just focus on the road and get back to the barn, I'd get a nice hosing-down and get put into my cozy stall where dinner waits (not to mention I'd be with all my buddies). It's not hard to remember that I've got a rider Who's directing my steps toward heaven, but it's often difficult to surrender that control over to Him. (And, because I'm hard-headed and obsessed, it's easy to get miffed.)

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|
PS--Ben's birthday was Saturday. He's seventeen now. This time next year we'll be packing him off to go to college. :(

Saturday, May 5, 2012

from the Daily Life of a Florida Fairy

{i'm so sorry guys... i promise a real post soon!!}

The old grandfather clock wiped his hands slowly across his face, fingers ticking nearer and nearer to the number nine. His insides did not work quite as smoothly as they once did, and gears whirred loudly in his stomach. And deep in his heart, shielded by his dark oak skin, a tiny pair of wings twitched.
The face that was attached to these wings twisted in a sleepy grimace. Long eyelashes fluttered with the remnants of a dream, and then popped open to reveal bright jade orbs. “Yeep!” the little creature cried, leaping a full three inches into the air before slamming back down on the pincushion that served as its bed.
Elysia knew her first word – at least, something sounding like a word – to greet the morning was not particularly polite; but, quite frankly, it was all she could manage for the time being. She rubbed her eyes and listened to old Grandfather. Wearily pulling herself upright, she pushed aside some scraps of quilting fabric and groped behind her for a wing.
Once caught, Elysia proceeded to rub some life back into the little bugger. She chuckled impishly. Many a time had she heard humans complaining about a hand or foot falling asleep. She had dealt with that, too, but when it happened to her wings… well, it was a lot worse.
Elysia yawned widely – much too wide for her little face – and switched to the other wing. Old Grandfather was old and rickety, yes, but he always chimed at nine in the morning, on the dot. And nine-on-the-dot couldn’t be too much farther away. If she didn’t want to go deaf, she had better not be inside when the gongs went off.
She rolled off the pincushion and landed on her knees. Her walnut-shell slippers were never where she wanted them to be. Instead of staying right beside the bed where she had put them last night – at least, she thought – they managed to be all the way across the little room. She scurried over on her hands and knees, quickly put them on, and grabbed her day dress on her way out. She was halfway down from the attic before old Grandfather woke up.
The first thing Elysia did was fly straight to the mousetrap on the second floor, in the bedroom with the window overlooking the trees. But a disappointing sight met her there. The mousetrap was empty.
Spirits low, Elysia sank to the windowsill. She could have sworn that it had cheese, even if rather old cheese, the previous night. Oh. Elysia grinned cheekily at her reflection in the glass. Last night. She had eaten it then.
A sudden movement outside drew her focus past her image, and her full cherry lips immediately pulled down in a frown. A large white moving van was tossing a dust cloud into the air. She crossed her arms and spread out dramatically on her stomach. Just when she was getting used to being alone with old Grandfather.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Monday, April 16, 2012

"I'm Gonna DIE!"

I hear it all the time. Sometimes it’s in jest, but often the speaker truly believes that death is the only way their situation can get worse. Why is that?

Maybe non-believers have reason; subconsciously realizing that death will be much, much worse than life. But as a Christian (and an American), I really have no excuse - yet I often catch myself thinking it, even if I’m not dramatically spouting it aloud. God showers me with thousands of mercies every moment, and not to mention, I live in a land of incredible ease. So I skipped breakfast. Am I really starving by lunchtime? So my friends shun me, make me feel like a freak. Is the solitude really all that bad? So I stub my toe. Is the pain really bad enough to make believe I’m gonna die?

And that’s not even biblically correct. As Christians, through Jesus we have gained entrance into heaven. Death is fine, better than living here. For us, death isn’t a way for our situation to get worse; it means we can spend eternity with our Father. So really, in tough times, in pain, why do we say “I’m gonna die!” like it’s a bad thing? Shouldn’t we be saying “I’m gonna LIVE!”?

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Friday, April 6, 2012


"A man had a fig tree growing in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it but did not find any. So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, 'For three years now I've been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven't found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?'
"'Sir,' the man replied, 'leave it alone for one more year, and I'll dig around it and fertilize it. If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.'"

~Luke 13:6-9

"Cut her down!" I keep expecting God to say. "I keep looking for fruit and find none!"

He's given me fifteen years. Maybe sometimes I've produced a small, barely-edible harvest, but much of the time I'm barren. Why should I use up God's resources? Surely they would be better used by another, more productive recipient. One who seeks out opportunity, who yields to His hands, who craves His soil.

{both pics via pinterest}
But He does not cut me down. Instead He sends me Jesus, Who has been put in charge of caring for the vineyard. Jesus' tender care makes me want to yield to Him, and His presence makes the soil so much richer. He calls me to blossom, to make His time spent nurturing me valuable.

I don't know the set time limit that I have, but I do know that, with Jesus' help, I will make the best of that time. One day my harvest will be bountiful, a sweet addition to the Father's table.

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Monday, April 2, 2012

{surprising lack of} April Fools!

Not much went on yesterday in the embarrassment department. I didn't pull anything myself, trigger (or see, for that matter) any physical pranks, and only got hit by a couple "I'm going to tell you something and snicker while you take forever to decide if it's true or just an April Fools!". And then, you know, there were a couple horrendous tragedies and pregnancy hints on facebook, but nothing over the top.


On a non-look-out-for-pranking-everywhere aspect, yesterday was a great day. Went to church and heard a fantastic sermon, after which I kidnapped my best friend and took her to the Sun n' Fun airshow in Lakeland. Despite the heat and overwhelmingly-bright sun, it was awesome.

(All these pictures are actually from Saturday--I didn't end up taking any pictures yesterday.)

My sister is the coolest. Just have to brag. She endured the *cough* torture of watching the Thunderbirds zoom overhead in their deafeningly loud planes, performing the most jaw-dropping stunts. Only the thought that one day she will be able to do this kept her holding on to sanity. I can't wait to see it.

Although, after watching the airshow, my mom thinks it should be illegal to have that much fun. ;)

Thursday, March 22, 2012

*Grr*... Such People...

I would apologize for not posting anything for two weeks (even though there're at least fifteen new posts in my blog feed from the last week alone). I would even go as far to excuse myself by informing you of the SATs I've had to endure, but to be honest, they were just over the past two days, and I only studied on Monday. *cough*

So no, I'm not apologizing, nor am I making excuses, but I did have to bring up the SATs so this story will make sense.

The first two sections were over vocabulary and reading comprehension. Without too much difficulty, they were over and the teacher called a break, so like many others, I took the opportunity to use the restroom. And there I heard the most awful things.

Girl 1 - "Oh my gosh, I hate reading!"

Girl 2 - "Yeah, I know; I just read the questions and went back and found the answers."

Girl 1 - "I wish I thought of that! I had to read the whole thing."

Girl 3 - "I just skimmed and it was still torture."

After they left, I stormed out to wash my hands. A friend of mine looked over at me, grinned, and patiently stood by to wait out my rampage. I mean, seriously, who not only complains about reading, but has the audacity to hate it?

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Ramblings - Feel Free to Ignore

This week was/is my mom's spring break. We explored Downtown Disney on Monday, but other than that, we haven't really celebrated her week-of-no-school. Why not? Because, crazy lady that she is, she's spending it studying. No homework, no tests. Just studying.

I admire my mother so much. If I were her, what precious little amount of brains I have would have leaked out my ears by now.

Anyway, I'm sure this comes across as a shock... *cough*intensesarcasm*cough*... but I just can't commit to a book. As soon as the thought, "Y'know, I think I'll try to get 12:10 done this year," crosses my mind, I get a flood of ideas for Riding Orion and its fellow (eek! what a word! how do you say that?!). So how does one react to that? By working on them both, of course. Skatterbrained-ness has to come in handy for something.

But I thought you all might be interested (or not, but please pretend) in 12:10, because... *brrrrrrrrrrbumbadum*

It's a comic book!!

Yeah, we'll see how that turns out. I've only really glanced over comic books (though I'm a huge fan of superheroes) and I have no idea how to write one (well, how could I, when I don't even read them?). But I think that's what makes it so much fun. Not to mention it's about 11/12-year-olds, so I get to mess around with the humor a lot more. And my dad (amazing person that he is) not only loves comic books but used to work for Diamond Comic Distributors, Inc. My parents are my heroes.

That said, let's talk about sewing. Or rather, I'll talk about sewing and let you close your browser whenever you get bored (which, if you're smart, was about four paragraphs ago). My medieval dress has gone nowhere. The forlorn pieces are lying in a crate in my desk (that's right, not under - in), waiting hopelessly for me to put them together. But I just... have no excuse. I'm a lazy bum.

But I am going to sew a gauntlet. Not two, just one. For the left arm. Why? 'Cause Ben has a bunch of archery stuff and, while having fun and shooting people (with carefully foam-wrapped arrows), I obliviously scraped the bowstring against my forearm whenever I fired. It left a really big bruise.

Well. I'm exhausted. If you read this far, comment and tell me -- I will stick by you for the rest of my life. Well, until you admit I'm incredibly annoying, at least.

So what do you think? Any comic-book-writing advice? Or suggestions for the gauntlet? Or a way to overcome my laziness and sew that dress?

~Charli Rae |Job 39:19-25|

Friday, February 24, 2012

From the back of my journal

“I’ll have to wake up”
as told by an insomniac

I hate sleeping. Maybe because I don’t do it often. Sitting up in bed, forced to listen to my sister’s deep breathing, I hate myself for not doing the same. I lie on my back and stare at the clock’s projection on my ceiling. Minutes move slower at night. I know it.
The black air turns milky with lazy sunlight. The darkness is giving me a few precious moments to fall asleep. That’s when my strength melts, my resolve fades away. I stop praying for my friends and family, for the world’s broken condition, and start begging. Most often, silent tears twist my face. Sometimes I’m granted the two hours of silence left. Others I lie awake until someone gets out of bed.
One might think that if I get to sleep, it’s better. I believe it’s worse. If I fall asleep, I always wake up with a feeling of dread. I fumble to the bathroom, switch on the light, and expect my reflection to distort into a horrid monster. But it’s only me looking back.
If darkness remains, I turn out the light and return to my bedroom. Something follows me. It’ll grab me if I don’t get into bed and under the covers quick enough. Who knows what it plans to do then?
It must have been some bad nightmare to warp my imagination in such a way, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was about. All I know is, if I go back to sleep, it’ll haunt me again. Lying awake is torture, but sleeping is worse. Because then I’ll have to wake up.