Here is my next semester:

MWF 8-8:55 INFS-2200-002

MWF 9:10-10:05 ACTG-2120-001

MWF 10:20-11:15 QM-2610-003

MWF 11:30-12:25 PHIL-1030-005

Ok, so, I apparantly never knew what rock was. My idea of rock is that no acoustic guitars were allowed and at least one of the guitars had a distortion setting at all times. So, I actually like hard rock. Now I must endevour to find Christian hard rock bands. Any suggestions?

Feliz dia de los muertos.

So most of you are probably aware that Amy is looking at Apples. Well, last night I got on her computer and designed a Mac Pro for her. The Mac Pro is their top tower model. The thing ended up being priced at $15,500. I about passed out. Then, we went to the Dell site and I designed one of their top XPS towers, it was priced at about $9,000. So yeah, top end computers are crazy.

I was think my bed, friday, 6:30pm, memorial sonic, unless there's something else going on.

Sunday, 9:30 PM, Bluesboro, 18-21 $8, 21+ $5, I'll be playing with Damascus Road in the battle of the bands.

i miss bigstuf

Switchfoot, Saturday, Cool Springs Galleria, 7:00PM.

Switchfoot, Saturday, Cool Springs Galleria, 7:00PM.

Since the advent of photobox, this may be the first time I've gotten on here and not had new friend photos.

I sometimes get on my Xanga to update and let that little part of the world know that I exist. However, I think my entry really summed up last semester well, so I decided to share it with you.

I love Jesus. AO has taught me so much, and there is yet so much that I need to apply from it. I was very happy to have served in the Sun. morning praise band for AO this last semester. Nathan Mace is an incredible musician. Trever in these last few weeks has been stellar on Wed. nights, though I do miss the all out corporate worship of the semester, but there is a season to everything. I got to help Damascus Road by playing bass for them this past friday, though I still have no band of my own, except Sun. morning praise band. I will serve wherever it will glorify God the most, but if I had my choice I think that I would prefer doing Wed. night praise band again, though I am not sure. I think Casting Crowns had a great start, that's what I'd choose, but it's not my choice. I have learned so much in AO that I wish that I could have applied in high school, but I cannot look back now, I have to learn to do it now in college. All those nights I did praise band for BAY, how awesome that opportunity was, but how much did I miss. We were singing "May the Words" last night at AO, I think it comes from a passage in Psalm, though I could be wrong. We played that many times in Youth, but it took untill last night for me to really be hit by the words. "May the words of my mouth/ And the meditations of my heart/ Be pleasing to you my Lord." Those words almost hurt they were so convicting. I am trying to concentrate more on what the songs are saying, than just singing them with passion. Oh, how I have learned to worship this last semester, and how awesome it was, and to know that it can only grow, I cannot wait. In the rest of my life, not really anything has changed. I'm glad for summer and I look foward to my cruise at the end of this month. I have had this thing for 1461 days. Wow.

I had a thought last night in my quiet time. We all know how much it sucks to say goodbye to someone we love. God loves everyone more than we could ever imagine. But try to imagine what He feels when someone rejects Him and dies and goes to Hell.

"All those women's libs wanted their rights, now they're all dead and I'm stuck here five days a week."

-Regina at work

Feliz Cinco de Mayo!!!

Jazz Fest anyone?

I officially formally love my Speech teacher, he gave me an A for my grade, I earned an 89.3.

I actually got the scheduele I wanted for the fall, thank you Jesus.

we'll probably push mccalister's back, if at all. your judgement, be safe.

friday, mccallister's, 6pm

Midnight Phone Call

 

We all know what it's like to get that phone call in the middle of the

night. This night's call was no different.  Jerking up to the ringing

summons, I focused on the red illuminated numbers of my clock.  Midnight.

Panicky thoughts filled my sleep-dazed mind

as I grabbed the receiver.

 

Hello?"

 

My heart pounded; I gripped the phone tighter and eyed my husband, who was

now turning to face my side of the bed.  "Mama?" I could hardly hear the

whisper over the static.  But my thoughts immediately went to my daughter.

When the desperate sound of a young crying voice became clearer on the

line,

I grabbed for my husband and squeezed his wrist.

 

"Mama, I know it's late, but don't...don't say anything, until I finish.

And

before you ask, yes, I've been drinking.  I nearly ran off

the road a

 

few miles back, and..."

 

I drew in a sharp shallow breath, released my husband and pressed my hand

against my forehead.  Sleep still fogged my mind and I attempted to fight

back the panic.  Something wasn't right.

 

"And I got so scared.  All I could think about was how it would hurt you

if

a policeman came to your door and said I'd been killed.  I want..to come

home.  I know running away was wrong.  I know you've been worried sick.  I

should have called you days ago, but I was afraid...afraid..."

 

Sobs of deep-felt emotion flowed from the receiver and poured into my

heart.

Immediately I pictured my daughter's face in my mind and my fogged senses

seemed to clear. "I think--"

 

"No! Please let me finish!  Please!"  She pleaded, not so much in

anger

but

in desperation.

 

I paused and tried to think of what to say.  Before I could go on, she

continued, "I'm pregnant, Mama.  I know I shouldn't be

drinking now...especially now, but I'm scared, Mama.  So scared!"  The

voice

broke again and I bit into my lip, feeling my own eyes fill with moisture.

I looked at my husband who sat silently mouthing, "Who is it?"

 

I shook my head and when I didn't answer, he jumped up and left the room,

returning seconds later with

the portable phone held to his ear.  She must

have heard the click in the line because she continued, "Are you still

there?  Please don't hang up on me!  I need you.  I feel so alone."

 

I clutched the phone and stared at my husband, seeking guidance.  "I'm

here,

I wouldn't hang up," I

said.

 

"I know I should have told you, Mama. But when we talk, you just keep

telling me what I should do.  You read all those pamphlets on how to talk

about sex and all, but all you do is talk.  You don't listen to me.  You

never let me tell you how I feel.  It is as if my feelings aren't

important.

Because you're my mother, you think you have all the

answers.  But

sometimes

I don't need answers.  I just want someone to listen"

 

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at the

how-to-talk-to-your-kids

pamphlets scattered on my night stand.  "I'm listening," I whispered.

 

"You know, back there on the road, after I got the car under control, I

started thinking about the baby and taking care of it.  Then I saw this

phone booth and it was as if I could hear you preaching about people

shouldn't

drink

 

and drive.  So I called a taxi  I want to come

home."

 

"That's good, Honey," I said as relief filled my chest.  My husband came

closer, sat down beside me and laced his fingers through mine.  I knew

from

his touch that he thought I was doing and saying the right thing.  "But

you

know, I think I can drive now."

 

"No!" I snapped.  My muscles stiffened, and I tightened the clasp on my

husband's hand.  "Please, wait for the taxi.  Don't hang up on me until

the

taxi gets there."  "I just want to come home, Mama."

 

"I know.  But do this for your mama.  Wait for the taxi, please."  I

listened to the silence in fear.  When I didn't hear her answer, I bit

into

my lip and closed my eyes.  Somehow I had to stop her from

driving.

 

"There's the taxi, now."

 

Only when I heard someone in the background asking about a Yellow Cab did

I

feel my tension easing.

 

"I'm coming home, Mama."

There was a click and the phone went silent.  Moving from the bed with

tears forming

in my eyes, I walked out into the hall and went to stand in

my

sixteen-year-old daughter's room.  The dark silence hung thick.  My

husband

came from behind, wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the

top

of my head.  I wiped the tears from my cheeks.  "We have to learn

to

listen," I said.

 

He pulled me around to face him.  "We'll learn.  You'll see."  Then he

took

me into his arms and I buried my head in his shoulder. I let him hold me

for

several moments, then I pulled back and

stared back at the bed.  He

studied

me for a second, then asked, "Do you think she'll ever know she dialed the

wrong number?"

 

I looked at our sleeping daughter, then back at him.  "Maybe it wasn't

such

a wrong

number."

 

"Mom, Dad, what are you doing?"  The muffled young voice came from

under

the

covers.  I walked over to my

daughter, who now sat up staring into the darkness.  "We're practicing," I

answered.

 

"Practicing what?"  she mumbled and laid back on the mattress, her eyes

already closed in

slumber.

 

"Listening," I whispered, and brushed a hand over her cheek.

4-string bass, traditional

5-string bass, cool

6-string bass, nice

7-string bass, impracticle

8-string bass, pointless

Ephesians 2:8-9

⁸For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— ⁹not by works, so that no one can boast.

They (Mr. Harris) are thinking about cutting us down to 20hrs over the summer, this would suck. Any idea where I can work over the summer for only 20hrs.

So, I looked at my Econ grade online, it said I had an A, I almost passed out. This is significantly better than my best friend killing me in celebration of the Ides of March, though he better watch his back.

Something that I've learned going into college and AO is that any night can be an awesome night of worship. Like Thursday night at BigStuf. All that you have to do is want it. If you set your heart in the right place, ignore the distractions, and want to worship God, it will happen. I did not fully grasp this untill the last few Wed. night AO's last semester, but I am sure glad that I did.

Ah Super Bowl morning, there's nothing like waking up to see the little footballs underneath your super tree, faithfully placed there by John Madden in his bright yellow suit after he partook of the Coke and chicken wings that you left out for him.

So my cell-phone is officially dead. It is decapitated. If I don't answer you, it may not necessarily mean that I hate you, I am just incapable of recieving call right now.