A Jenn Adventure: Time vs. Patience

It’s 12:4something in the wee hours of the night (or morning) and as I’m drifting off to sleep I’m vaguely thinking about Time vs. Patience. I’m almost asleep, or maybe I’ve actually fallen asleep, when suddenly my brain screams, “PUFF PASTRY!!!!” I’m awake.  Out of bed. In the freezer pulling a box of puff pastry to thaw in the fridge overnight.  I have recipes to test in preparation for Monday night’s Foodie Fun program at work.  As I saunter back into my bedroom, I find my brain has meandered back to pondering Time vs. Patience.  So, here I am, propped up in bed in the dark typing as fast as my fingers can keep up…

Time. When I was younger, like many young people, time wasn’t a thing to me. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I yearned for the days when I could make my own decisions, when I could live a life of my choosing, when I could keep my room as messy or as clean as I wanted!  Like many teenagers, it was all about independence, independence, independence.  Something I have perfected in my older years – being independent.  But that is an entirely different post in and of itself. The fact of the matter is, when I was a teenager I ached to speed time up.  Somewhere after college, the first time, I began to realize what a stupid, stupid, stupid thing that was. You should never rush time but that’s only a lesson learned… with time.

In the past 10 years, my time has become increasingly precious to me. I don’t foresee that changing in the least. If anything, it will only increase in importance. We all have a finite amount of time on this earth and the thing is… we have NO idea exactly HOW finite it is. I may have a good 50-60 years left on this earth! Or… I might only have 5 or 10… days. And for this reason, time has become of the utmost importance to me. Often, when faced with something, I ask myself if I’m going to waste my time. Furthermore, will I waste someone else’s time? If at any moment, I realize I’m about to do just that, I immediately stop what I’m doing. I tell them; I’m not about to waste another person’s time when time is so important to me.  To me, it’s respectful and courteous to be aware of others. I expect the same from other people as well.  I make this known with anything I do, friendships/relationships I enter into, offers to volunteer, etc. Now, if I choose to waste my time, well, that’s my decision. After all, it is my time, so long as it’s not affecting another person.

But what happens when you bring someone else into your time? What happens when you’re both reading the same book at the same speed when suddenly you realize you’ve kept reading, but the other person has stopped? You’re supposed to be able to discuss said book at any moment.  Be on the same page.  But somehow, you’ve found yourself chapters ahead of the other person and where you once could have a great discussion… you’re struggling to keep the conversation going. You find yourself wondering, “Did I somehow manage to pick up a completely different book altogether?” You find yourself lost and confused, and frankly, a little frustrated. You’ve invested time in sharing this book. Which also means you’ve invested feelings and emotions.

This is usually when you cut your losses. If no one else in the discussion is going to take the time and effort to make this a successful and fun experience, you leave, right? Because your time is precious… Their time is precious! If they aren’t enjoying the book, why should they keep reading?? There’s nothing wrong with not finishing a book. But there is something wrong when the person you’re sharing a story with pretends they’re reading when they’ve actually closed the book altogether without telling you. It feels deceitful. But what if they didn’t close it altogether?  What if they stuck a bookmark in it to go back to later because the world has handed them a shit-ton of lemons that they are trying to make lemonade out of. They just forgot to tell you they needed to stop reading so much. They also forgot to ask you to bring some vodka over… Which brings me to…

Patience.  I’ve always been told I was a patient person. I’m patient with impatient people. I’m patient with unsure animals. I’m patient with needles & thread & miniscule squares you have to count. I’m patient with tiny humans with sticky hands. I’m patient with snarky teenagers. I’m patient. Some call it a virtue. Some call it a weakness. I tend to find it’s somewhere in between. I say that because many times there’s joy in being patient with another person and seeing them succeed when all they needed was a little smile and an “it’s ok… take your time…” But other times… other times there are those that take advantage it. Whether they exploit your patience intentionally or not, it happens more often than I care to admit. And, unfortunately, many of those same people are usually also taking advantage of the kindness that comes along with it… I’ve seen both sides.  I’m the type of person that tends to ignore the darker side until it’s slapped me in the face.  Why? Because I choose to hope for the best out of people. Because I choose to trust. Because I have a library to share and I’m ready to do that. Because I’m incredibly patient with the people that matter to me.

So, what happens when you find yourself in a situation where two of your core values are pitted against each other because someone matters to you? You value how you spend your time, how others spend your time, but you also value your ability to be patient when it’s needed. What do you do when someone who matters to you uses words that don’t match up with their actions? When they insinuate that they need you to be patient but yet their actions scream that you, your time, & and your feelings are of no concern to them? What do you focus on? The trees or the forest? The fact that the book is closed or that they used a bookmark (but forgot to tell you...)?

By the way, I’m in the final chapters of Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. Yeah, I know…

Also, I heard a song on the radio tonight that probably started this whole thing:

I can see a heartbreak coming

I can see it in the way she walks

I can see your heartbreak comin’, I just can’t find the courage to talk…

– Austin Meade 

xoxo, 

jennifree

A Jenn Adventure: 'Ello Guvna!

Tonight the Year of 32 comes to an end.  I always take time on this day to reflect on the previous year.  I, typically, write a little something down and sometimes those musings make it to the internet.  Sometimes they don’t.  I’ve been thinking about what I would write all day, trying to decide what I would say… what I wanted to say… trying to reflect on the Year of 32.  But I couldn’t get anywhere with my thoughts.  It’s not like 32 was an awful year.  I mean, I had a few slap-myself-in-the-face-did-that-really-just-happen moments but overall I can’t say it was a bad year.  But I also can’t say it was a great year.  Yeah, there are a few moments that stand out: got a free trip to Napa; went to a Bon Jovi concert with my cousins (which was a BLAST); laughed, played and loved my nephew to pieces; watched a dear friend get married; did some kickass baking; and finished a craft project that was 12+ years in the making.  But still, even when I think about it, the Year of 32 doesn’t stand out for me.  And then it hit me… I don’t want to reflect on the Year of 32.  I don’t want to say “good-bye” to it.  I don’t want to give it another thought.  I’m done with the Year of 32. 

Instead, I want to say, “”Ello, Guvna!” as loud as I can to the Year of 33 and erupt into giggles!

Year of 33, I don’t want to stress you out with a bunch of high expectations but something about you makes me smile uncontrollably.  We’re gonna have a great year.  I just know it.  Something about you makes me excited and hopeful.  I haven’t looked forward to a birthday this much since… since… I was 16?  *shrugs shoulders*  I don’t know why… nothing of importance happens this year.  We don’t get a license (unless I decide to splurge for that CHL class I’ve had my eye on for a while), it’s not the first year we can vote or legally drink in a bar.  We aren’t running off to college or graduating from something (Besides, you’ve overdone that one lately.  Let’s give it rest on the degrees.).  This is not a big milestone year.  But something about you… Maybe it’s because I can mold you into anything I want.  All those things we’ve talked about doing but haven’t… I think it may be time.

So, Year of 33, with that being said, how about we start with this small list:

•  Remember that cross-stitch project you started for Mom when you were a junior in high school that got ruined in your gym bag by an open bottle of Coke at a volleyball tournament and you had to throw it away?  We’re gonna start AND finish the replacement you bought online and then promptly hid in your closet.
• You’re going to recommit yourself to hula.  Cause let’s be honest, your life is so much better and your heart and soul are so much happier when you are dancing with your hula sisters.
• Fruits and vegetables.  I don’t need to elaborate here.
• Kayak Town Lake, trail run more, read in the sun, go for a bike ride, try a Hot Lava course!  Jeez… we could knock all that out in February!!  (Pronounced: Feb-ya-wary :-) )
• Write.  More.
• Monthly Dance Parties – alone or with friends… your kitchen or The Boss’… day or night… the possibilities are endless!  You pick!
• Embarrass the hell out of yourself on your 15^th High School Reunion Cruise.  Why?  Why not, yo?!?!
• Drink more mimosas.  Monthly?  Weekly!  Well, let’s start with monthly.  Also, that Airborne Strawberry flavored Vitamin C drink you've been drinking lately could use a little Champs in it… it’s ok, go for it!
• Help Pops rebuild fences on the farm.  This will take some effort.  Effort as in, you’ll need to pester Pops on getting this done.  But, you really want to help for more reasons than one.
• Continue to remember, love, and learn from your grandfather.  Smile, care, be kind and patient, laugh, and love.
• Finally, trust yourself.  All those slap-myself-in-the-face-did-that-really-just-happen moments of the Year of 32 could have been prevented if you had trusted your gut.  It’s ok to trust other people.  Please give them the benefit of the doubt!  That’s part of what makes you who you are…  but be sure to trust yourself first and foremost. 

We’ll think of more as the year goes on but, I think that’s a good start, don’t you?  Seriously, though, something big is gonna happen in the Year of 33.  I don’t know what it is, but it’s there… and it’s time.  Don’t be afraid.  Open your heart, your mind, and your soul to whatever it is. 

I'm never gonna look back

Woah, never gonna give it up

No, please don't wake me now

xoxo,

~jennifree

Top Ten Most Awesome Things Said to Me in 2011

I just uncovered this draft of a blog post from January 4th, 2012.  I had hopes to write down more things, because several people said some really hilarious things to me in 2011, but I guess I never got there.  Oh well... these made me laugh so here, have a laugh too!



Top Ten Most Awesome Things Said to Me in 2011

You've turned into such a snob since you started this pastry program.
Me: What's your point?  We still need stuff other than powdered sugar... 

If I'm going to continue hanging out with you I'm gonna need to start running or some other form of exercise on a regular basis... Can I have another brownie?

You aren't procrastinating. You are saving work for when you are older, therefore, more wise.

So, you're a nanny, a librarian, a baker, and a bookkeeper? Is there anything you don't do???
Me: Not really, I'm a Jenn of all trades.

Discussing my previous job with one of the chefs at school...
Chef: Wait, you have a masters degree???  What the hell are you doing here?!?!

I can't do lunch that week.  I'll be stuck in interviews trying to hire mythical interns.


xoxo,

jennifree

A Jenn Adventure: Peanuts

Today has been a good day!  It's been a productive day off (The Boss took his CFO and CMO to see Grammy at the beach for the weekend.  Lucky dude!).  But now... I'm stuck on my kitchen floor amongst a pile of snotty paper towels.

It started with me dancing around the kitchen while I made cupcakes for a friend.  I go to put the box in the fridge and, as always, I had to move some stuff around in order to get it in there.  For a person that lives alone, I sure do have a lot of stuff in my fridge... Anyway, something was blocking the box in the way back so I reach in and pull out the culprit.  A bag of chocolate covered peanuts.  Not just any bag of chocolate covered peanuts... the last bag of chocolate covered peanuts my granddaddy ever made me.  A smile spread across my face.  Granddaddy.  I shove the box in the fridge and sit in the floor with the bag... I open it... Pull out a piece... and stare at it.  

I'm flooded with happy, wonderful, precious memories of my granddaddy by just staring at the candy.

To eat it or not to eat it... that is the question.  It's fine.  It's peanuts and chocolate, yall.  It's not like they'll go bad anytime soon, if ever (especially living in my fridge).  I take a bite.  The tears stream down my face.  I'm chewing and crying and smiling all at the same time.  I think, "It's still a damn good piece of candy, Granddaddy..." and then I'm laughing.  But I can't stop crying.  Even now.  It's a mixture of happiness and sadness but between the tears and sobs, I'm just grateful.

I miss my granddaddy.  Every day he is in my thoughts.  It's been 8 months but I still wish for so many things.  I wish Granddaddy had gotten to spend more time with The Boss.  I wish The Boss had gotten to spend more time with him.  And when the child finally starts talking, he'll ask questions about Granddaddy's pictures.  I know he will because at 22 months old (today!) you can ask him to show you Granddaddy in a picture and he does.  I wish he had gotten to ride on the tractor with him or watch him feed pecans to the squirrels from his shoes or learn how to touch the cows' noses from him... but The Boss has a wonderful Pops who will show him things that are just as awesome as what my Granddaddy showed me.  But man, those two would have really laughed at each other!

I wish The Chef had gotten to meet Granddaddy.  I like The Chef.  A lot.  I wanna keep him around for a while.  He would have loved my granddaddy, but then again, everyone loved Granddaddy.  It just happened... the smile on his face always spread to yours.  And your heart always felt warm when he was around.  So, really, The Chef wouldn't have been able to fight it.  :-)

I also wish I had eaten more of this chocolate covered peanut candy.  It was good!  It was always good!  But I've always been more of a "make the sweets than eat the sweets" kind of girl.  I always shared them with everyone around me because I knew there was more where that bag came from.  And because everyone loved that candy.  So I did just want my granddaddy did; I shared. I gave it away.  I made other people happy with it.  And I have one coveted bag left...

But, like I said, mostly I'm just grateful.  I am so grateful for the amount of time I had with him.  I am so grateful that he was such an important part of my life, that he was so close to me.  That I was privileged enough to receive such wonderful, unconditional love.  

So, as I sit here typing and crying, and even though I do miss him so very much...

 I'm smiling.  I'm happy.  And my heart feels a warmth that I will forever and always cherish.

I also have a bag of chocolate covered peanuts, yo.  And I can't even begin to describe the happiness that brings to my face and heart.  :-)

xoxo

~jennifree

A Jenn Adventure: Isn't That Somethin'

Instead of writing this blog post, I should be reading.  I’m still pretty far behind in my studies and The Boss is down for a nap.  But I finally know what I want to say… for weeks I’ve been thinking about this entry.  Trying to decide exactly what I wanted to convey and I couldn’t focus my thoughts.  I think my heart was too raw.  And though I am still sad and I am still hurting… I know what I need to say.

“Isn’t that somethin’.”  GDaddy used to say that all the time.  “Baby, how’s the weather in Austin?” he’d ask.  “Well, Granddaddy, it’s rained for 24 hours straight!”  “Well, I’ll be.  Isn’t that somethin’.”  I’ll tell you what… he was somethin’.

My grandfather, Eugean Freeman, was an incredible man.  He was kind and caring.  He had the best laugh and his smiles were infectious.  He loved his family so much that it was impossible to process how big he made your heart feel.  He was patient and smart.  He never got angry or said a cross word to the kids, even when he probably should have.  His way of talking to us was very matter fact in those instances.  He loved animals and sweets.  He never met a stranger.   Everyone was always welcome in his presence.   He was fun.

I owe so much of who I am to my grandfather.  In the past 6 or 7 years, my friends and family have repeatedly pointed out to me how patient I am.  How patient I am with animals, people, and life in general.  There is no doubt in my mind I learned this from Granddaddy (and that it was reinforced by my father, Grandaddy’s middle child).  GDaddy was always so patient with everyone and everything.  

My most cherished memories with my grandfather are the Saturday and Sunday mornings we spent together.  I’m not sure how old I was when I first started tagging along on his morning farm routine.  I was young, though.  I was old enough to fix myself a bowl of cereal and make coffee for my parents, though I had to use a chair to climb on top of the counter to reach the coffee.  I would wake up early, way before the rest of my household.  I would put on a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt, sneak into the kitchen for a small bowl of cereal, make coffee for my parents, and then ease out the front door.  I would sit on the front porch steps, if it was warm enough, and wait.  When I saw that black and grey truck cross the bridge on the highway, I would start walking to the gate to meet him.  At first, I wasn’t big enough to open the gate into our family’s land.  It was incredibly heavy, but I would help him open the gate and hop in the truck with him.  Usually the cows were close by so they were our first stop.  If I could get out of the truck fast enough, I was in the back getting the can of cubes for the bull.  I would hand them over to Granddaddy and he would feed Jack/Jill/Punkin whoever our bull was at the time.  (Yes, the bulls all had names and 95% of the time it was a girl’s name.  I have no idea why…)  Back when we leased a little extra land next to ours, we would make a round through there, just to check up on everything.  Next we went to “the pen” (our corral area) to feed and water any cows we had penned up.  We walked the fences and made sure everything was alright, checked all the gates, and rubbed the cows’ noses.  After that, it was the pond.  We would cross the creek and he would stop the truck, “See any snakes??”  “No sir!” and off we went.  At the pond, we fed the catfish and the ducks.  Checked the flat bottom boat and made sure everything was where it was supposed to be.  Then it was time to head to the Pinkston.  We’d cross the creek and make another quick snake check (what happened if there was a snake?  Bad snakes = shooting practice.) and off we’d go out the front gate and down the road to some leased property where we had another herd of cows.  We’d make a quick round through the land and then head back to my house.  He always came inside to say “Good Morning” and have a cup of coffee with my parents.  He wouldn’t stay long cause “mama” would be looking for him.**

Every Saturday and Sunday morning… it was our time together and I loved it.  I cherished every second of it.  This is where I learned to be kind and patient, to be soft and gentle with those around me.  If you slow down and wait, be gentle and easy, the cows will come and let you rub their noses.  The squirrels will eat pecans off your shoes.  The kittens with their silky, soft, fuzzy hair will rub their cheeks on your knees.  Eventually, everyone will meet you with a smile on their face when they see you coming.  Except the ducks.  The ducks… well, they wouldn’t come to anybody but him.  Ever.  

He taught me how to drive.  Before I was tall enough to reach the pedals, he let me sit in his lap and steer the truck sometimes.  And when I was finally tall enough, he let me drive all by myself.  It’s a wonder I didn’t give us whiplash.  I had such a heavy foot and was full of giddy giggles.  This was one of those times I should have gotten in trouble.  Anyone else would have lost patience and quick!  But not Granddaddy… “Remember, baby, you’ve got to be easy.  Slow and easy…” is all he would say.   I remember when I had earned the privilege of driving the morning route.  I met him at the gate one morning, by this time I was strong enough to open it myself, and when I turned to get in the truck he was sitting on the passenger side.  As I climbed in, put the truck in gear, and let my foot off the brake he said, “Remember, baby, slow and easy.”

He left behind the most incredible group of people that I am overwhelmingly proud to call my family.  He married a wonderful woman and together they raised three very sweet and loving children.  Those children taught their children all the lessons they learned from their Daddy (and Mama).  And those children are teaching their children.  My family is very close and we love each other unconditionally.  I’ve always known I had a special family.  Not many people are that close with their aunts and uncles and cousins.  Not many people are blessed with that kind of love or support system.  My sister and I are the only ones, of our “immediate family*”, that live outside of East Texas.  Sometimes, that’s hard on me.  I miss having everyone in one place to eat, talk, and laugh like we did so many times when I was growing up.  

My grandfather’s passing was 120% bittersweet.  Someone I loved and respected the most in the world is no longer here but in the week that followed his passing, I was able to reconnect with family.  I was able to see him live on in each of them.  He was so much of an incredible man and such a huge part of all of our lives that you can’t help but see bits and pieces of him in each of us.  The laughter and love that was shared that week was amazing.  Returning to Austin was the hardest thing I have had to do in a long time.  

Eugean Freeman’s legacy will live on, even though his physical being will not… Be respectful to everyone.  If something bothers you, say your piece and then let it go.  Be kind, caring, and forgiving.  Laugh when something is funny but not at the expense of someone else’s feelings.  Listen to others.  Think about your actions.  Be patient with those around you.  Give more love than you think you will ever receive.    

He was somethin’…

Hook 'Em Horns!

xoxo Granddaddy!  With all of my love,

~jenni

(jennifree)



*Note from Jenn: I realize that the term “immediate family” really means grandparents, parents, and siblings but my aunts, uncles, and cousins were always around us.  There were, are, and always will be my immediate family.

**Note from Jenn: After his funeral, the "immediate family" all came back to my Daddy's house.  My three older cousins and I loaded up in a truck along with their wives and their children.  One of the boys had requested a "tour" because he hadn't been out on that land before.  Unintentionally I think, our tour followed the same route I mentioned above (minus the extra land next door and the Pinkston section - we no longer lease that land).  We laughed and told stories and all of the little kids listened and laughed and shared their memories of Granddaddy.  At one point, I mentioned how the "roads" were gone and Maddi Grace asked what I meant.  I told her how there used to be roads throughout the pastures because Granddaddy made that exact same route twice a day every day.  I told her about our Saturday and Sunday mornings.  At some point, I realized the entire back end of the truck was completely silent and everyone was listening to my story.  Maddi Grace said, "Jennifer, I wish I had been a little girl when you were a little girl and that I could have done that with Granddaddy too.  That sounds like it was fun."  I had to fight back tears... "Maddi Grace, I wish you had been able to do that too.  It was a lot of fun..."  Unintentionally, my cousins and I paid tribute to my grandfather that evening in the most perfect way possible.  It was the perfect way to end that day. 

A Jenn Adventure: I. Am. Ridiculous.

It seems there is a running joke in my family that I have become the butt of.  It's actually not a bad joke... it's quite funny and, if I'm being honest, it really does make me smile.. and laugh... at myself.  It appears I have turned into a "professional student".  The joke?  I like to collect pieces of paper with my name on them.  It's funny.  It really is!  It's also very ridiculous.  As I said today on my final day of pastry cooking classes (for now...) "It's ridiculous... I'm ridiculous.  No, really, I'm RIDICULOUS!"


Last month, I received official word that I would be getting an Associate of Applied Science degree in Hospitality Management - Baccalaureate Prep Specialization.  This degree was a complete accident.  I knew I had all the classes for a Hospitality Management certificate but when I met with the department chair and we went over all of the Hospitality degrees it appeared I might have all the classes I need for Bac. Prep AAS.  We just needed to have Admissions review my transcripts from UT.  A couple of weeks later, a letter arrived in the mail.  Complete accident.


During that same meeting, it was brought to my attention that I was 4 classes short of an AAS Hospitatlity Management - Food & Lodging specialization.  Also, all four of those classes were business related: Finance, Legal Issues, etc.  You see where I'm going right?  If my endgame is my own business and all I have left are business classes, why the hell not???


"But what about baking?" you ask.  Oh, I'm getting that too.  I have one class left that I'm taking this summer.  So, in August I'll have a certificate in Pastry Arts.  Hey, I admitted it... I'M RIDICULOUS!  I have been told by The Boss' mom (aka my sister) that I am not allowed to individually frame all three degrees when I'm finished.  I am however, allowed to photocopy all three to a smaller size and frame them in one single frame.  I laughed.  She laughed.  But I'm really going to do that shit.  Why not embrace my ridiculousness?!?  It's funny.


This, sort of, brings me to the "big question".  Am I participating in the graduation ceremony this weekend?  I can't help it... I laugh every time someone asks me this.  And it's not a normal "ha ha" giggly laugh it's that laugh I developed towards the end of my stint of working at the library that would just come out when something was really funny but it was one of those things you weren't supposed to OPENLY laugh at.  Yeah, that sort of snarky "I know I'm not supposed to be laughing at this because that sort of means I'm laughing AT you and not WITH you because you are obviously NOT laughing but I can't help myself and I really don't care anymore so I'm just going to let out this mini 'heh heh' laugh to show you I think this is stupid and I'm laughing at it... in your face".  Awful, I KNOW!  Unfortunately, that laugh has sort of become a part of me now.  I can't stifle it any longer.  Nor do I really want to.  ("Hi everyone... my name is Jenn and I'm bitter and jaded.)  Anyway, that laugh has started involuntarily coming out when anyone asks me about graduation and I feel the need to clarify.


I love graduations.  I really, really, really, sincerely do!  I think they are one of the most awesome things in the whole wide world and people should go to their graduations!  There is not ONE part of a graduation that I think is stupid or that I laugh at!  (Well, maybe the speaker at my School of Information's graduation... people were snoring.  I was bored and in tears the entire time.  And though I was probably, in fact, bored TO tears, I was mainly in tears because I had INSISTED that was the graduation I wanted my entire family to attend.  It was a disaster and the minute it was over with I profusely apologized to everyone who was there to support me... repeatedly... for days... apologized.)  That laugh is totally directed at ME.  Because I am ridiculous.  Really, I'm ridiculous and it seems ridiculous for me to go to a graduation ceremony for a degree I didn't mean to get.  These people worked hard for their degrees and though I worked hard in the classes that got me the degree I'm getting this semester, I didn't really work hard for THIS degree.  It just happened.  So my snarky laugh and reply of, "No, I've had enough graduations, I don't think I need another one." is 172% NOT meant to put down any graduation ceremony.  When I really think about it, I think I feel like this is a special occasion that should be earned and I just don't feel like I've earned the right to walk across that stage.  Also... my ridiculousness is potent enough on it's own.  It does not need to be encouraged and participating in this graduation would probably be like injecting myself with liquid speed.


So, for anyone who witnessed my laugh and remarks and thought, "Huh... she must think she's above this." I do not.  In fact, I think I'm undeserving of participating in this graduation.  A better response would have been for me to laugh and say, "No, this degree was an accident.  I love graduations because they celebrate the hard work you put into an education.  I worked hard but I was working towards something else and this just happened along the way.  It just doesn't seem right for me to participate."


Don't get me wrong though, I am incredibly excited to receive my degree in the mail.  Way excited!  And in August when I finish my Pastry certificate, don't be surprised if I participate in graduation, because that piece of paper I worked damn hard for.  But it definitely won't be something I insist or even invite my family to.  At this point, they've been through enough... ;-)


So, to all of my friends who are graduating this semester... CONGRATS!!!  I am soooo excited and happy for you!!!  You worked hella hard for this day and I hope you enjoy it to the fullest!


xoxo,
jennifree




ps - My group members and I received certificates today in class for making the most money in our class' bake sale.  I literally squealed, "Another piece of paper with my name on it!!!!"  It was mostly for comical effect.  Mostly...

A Jenn Adventure: The Year of 30

Tonight, the Year of 30 comes to an end.  It seemed only fitting to take a moment to look back on it... It was filled with so much but I think what stands out the most was the amount of love it contained.  I never knew I could be loved nor love as much as I did this year.  


I started the Year of 30 off surrounded by my closest friends.  I literally sat at brunch the morning of my birthday and looked around at all the faces.  I've never felt so lucky in my life.  A girl can only wish for the friends that were sitting at that table.  Can only hope and dream for them... and I have them.  Not just one or two but several.  And every day I am grateful for each and every one of them.  They each bring some sort of joy and happiness to my life.  So much so that I'm always taken aback by it, in a good way.  I'm grateful for each and every one of my friends.  


I didn't think it was possible to experience more love than that until my sister handed me her newborn son in July.  I love that little boy to the moon and back.  I quit my job in September to spend my days hanging out with his sweet face and there's not a single day that goes by that I'm not thrilled I made that decision.  And there's not a single day when I don't appreciate the time I get to spend with him and how much he makes me laugh.  I mean... how can you NOT giggle with this guy around?!?

Is there popcorn for this drive-in movie?

I'm also grateful for the new friends the Year of 30 brought to me.  I don't get to spend as much time with them as I would like but I'm grateful for the friendships that flourished... and sort of out of nowhere!  


Unexpected but incredible... that was my Year of 30.  I hope that in the Year of 31 I can give as much love as I received this year.  I hope everyone close to me knows just how much they mean.  How important they are in my life.  How much I love them.  


I heard the best quote on a TV show tonight, "Be bold-and mighty forces will come to your aid." --William Benjamin Basil King.  Maybe that should be my motto for the Year of 31... If anything, I will love boldly...


xoxo,
~jennifree