Studette of the Month - September 2010

She is a Lifer. What is a Lifer you ask? The kind of friend with whom there are no awkward pauses if you haven't seen each other for years. The kind of friend who you know loves you despite the distance and time. The kind of friend that you respect deeply. The kind of friend who you know you'll be friends with for the rest of your life. Let me introduce you to a Lifer: Jessica.



Perhaps on paper, Jessica and I would seem to have little in common. She is from California; I am from New Hampshire. Jessica is trendy and dresses adorably; I wear hand-me-downs on a daily basis. She is a photographer, a clothing designer, super crafty and talented. She tried teaching me to make a pair of pants once...I had to seam rip them more times than I should ever admit in public.



But that is on paper...



The fact of the matter is, that the qualities that make a Lifer are loyalty, sincerity, forgiveness, depth, character, and being a friend who is somehow always there when you need them. Jessica is all of these. Tested, tried, and true.

She knew me as a Freshman in college and still loves me. She mailed me Nutty Bars once because she knows how much I love them. She was the only one with me when I reported to the Missionary Training Center. She wrote me on my mission. She lived in Salt Lake City for a few months before I moved away. She always let me stay with her when I was flying out of the country through LAX...to name a few.

Now, a little story about Jess.  One day I was reading a blog and I saw this lovely wedding. 





Imagine my surprise when I later discovered that my friend Jess had designed and made all of these brides maids dresses. Check out the very last name on this link. That's my Lifer!!

A Tribute For the Bet I Lost About the "Word" Squoze

The Sobering Truth

I do bankruptcy half the time, and I've seen the truth of this. Your tax returns and wages can be garnished. This is not made up. From what I can tell, this is a great summary.

Infographic by College Scholarships.org

My Favorite Quote Ever

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

~Teddy Roosevelt, April 23, 1910

Missouri, California, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire and a Few Other Things

Well friends, the good news is I finally feel like I am turning back into me again. And I love it. Highlights as of late:

- A trip to Northern California for the 4th of July



- While there, I went paintballing



This lovely shot caused me to have to wear my hair down for two weeks because it looked undeniably like a hickey.



- San Francisco



Please note that I am wearing a fleece here that I had to buy on the pier because I was so cold. Walking out into the open air of Missouri was quite a contrast upon returning home.



Colette got married!!!



We were all soooo excited.



Look at my growing family!



- Finished Les Miserables, unabridged. Before you are too impressed, consider that it took me nine years to finish it.



- Grubfest 2010 - The annual trip to Grubville, Missouri was awesome. Wish you could have been there.



- As of Saturday all of my diplomas, certificates, etc. are hanging in my office. They take up half the wall. It was a surreal moment to see those many years of work expressed in pieces of paper that used to seem to meaningless. But there they are, bearing my name, ready to tell clients that the business card isn't lying. Please note that I have been an licensed attorney for two years and just NOW hung my diplomas on the walls. I know; I procrastinate.

The News of Today

My mother had e-mailed me and told me he wasn't doing well. I didn't think much more about it until I received an e-mail from Kristi today. Jim Duchane passed away.

Sitting in my windowless office I found my eyes misting with tears. I had work to do, but memories and thoughts were going through my mind. There were least four feet of snow on the ground in Concord, New Hamshire where I saw him last. He talked of the expense of heating his house with kerosene. It seems homeowners in New Hampshire always talk about the expense of heating their homes in the winter, just as Californians always seem to talk about money. I had asked him, as I often ask people, how he had met his wife.

Brother Duchane had fallen in love with a spunky, red-headed, Mormon woman many years ago. She was a security guard and he said she could beat the tar out of anyone. He was smitten. Even years later I could see that he was so taken by this woman who could beat up anyone.

I met Brother Duchene at church as a child. His two girls who were still children when I left for college. The summer after my mission, I visited a small branch in Northern New Hampshire where Branch President Duchene and his family are now attending. His oldest daughter is now soon leaving to attend college and wants to study forensics, and there was MG, his wife. My eyes are now misting as I think about MG.

MG was my primary teacher when I was a child. She loved being in Primary because her energy level matched ours. She never belonged in Relief Society, she belonged with us. She gave us homemade pies if we attended her class with perfect attendance each month. Month after month she delivered my pie to my home.

I remember the first time I came to know of this person called MG. I went with my mother to the Mother-Daughter Homemaking meeting. It seemed everyone would talk about this woman MG, old women, young women, everyone seemed to adore her. The first time I saw her she hugged an old woman. She is the spunky red-headed security guard who could beat anyone up, the woman who made Brother Duchane's eyes glow with the memory of first meeting her. How she must be missing him.

An hour or so later I am distracted by my phone signaling that I have a text. It is Deborah, my beautiful trainer from my mission, announcing the birth of her third child. I text back a quick congratulations and letting her know how proud I am of her accomplishment in bringing this child into the world. How happy she must be for her new daughter.

French Music and Human Dominoes