Growing up, I didn’t have a rocking horse. I had a rocking cow. 
I talk about it in more detail in a previous post. My family came across this old photo, so I wanted to share.
Coming up in just a matter of days now [*note* I am posting this now, however I've been graduated for a few weeks now], I’ll be walking across the stage wearing my black cap and gown and my white tassel. I will be graduating with a bachelor’s degree in communication. It is crazy that that day is so soon. Thinking back when I was growing up, I honestly don’t know if I ever saw this day coming. I will be the first in my family to graduate from a four year university. This will be closing this chapter of my life and I will be moving on to the next chapter.
Just these past four years of college have flown by so fast. I can still fondly remember walking into Krause for the first time. I remember seeing my room for the first time, and then I remember watching my parents leave me here at this strange place that I would indeed call home for the next four years. I have lived with some awesome guys over these past four years and have made some great relationships.
I also recall not exactly knowing what I wanted to study or major in once I got here. I knew I liked music a lot and wanted to continue performing music (as I had since 4th grade), but I knew that it wasn’t the right course for my life to pursue a degree in it. Some of my initial plans were to become a teacher so that I could go back to my old high school and be the activities director there – that idea didn’t make it, however. Then I was pursuing a double major in business and communication. I was going to cover my bases so that after graduation I could do anything. I felt that those were two majors that would have been safe.
Needless to say, I didn’t hang on to the business major long. I dropped my business major to a minor, and then eventually dropped it all together. I did not enjoy the business classes at all. But I was really enjoying my communication classes and so I declared myself as a communication major.
My college experience is definitely catch all for these past four years and really has made me who I am today. I’ve been blessed with the privilege to travel to Vietnam and all over the United States while in college. I’ve made friendships that will last a lifetime. I’ve deepened my faith and continued my walk with Christ. With my white graduation tassel, I have ‘left my parent’s home as a boy and left college as a man’ as our own President Merrill Ewert says it.
Having shared those stories, I was definitely raised to be unique and to shine and to stand out as a leader. I know not of what my plans are in the future, for it is not up to me, but it is solely up to God. I have plans of taking steps in certain directions, hoping that it is in the right direction in life. I know that if I am going in the right direction, doors will continue to open – and if I’m not going in the right direction, doors will close. Over these past few years I have learned and grown and transformed so much. With all of this change I’ve undergone, I pack it away and prepare to start a new journey in life. It makes me extremely proud to know that I will be the first to receive my bachelor’s degree in my family. It also excites me to continue my education and pursue a master’s degree in leadership studies. Before I start the next journey, though, I need a break. I plan on taking this year off and simply resting for a bit. Then from there, we’ll see what is in store for my future.
“‘For I know the plans I have for you’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’” Jeremiah 29:11
I bought my Starbucks Gold Card last summer. This past summer I lived in Nashville, Tennessee. What took me out there? The best answer I can give is this: a good friend and God. One of my really good friends, Dave, was graduating and I was finishing my junior year. Dave had been planning on going out to Nashville for a while. It wasn’t until one day when I was researching some internship possibilities that I saw there were some summer opportunities in Nashville. I shared with Dave and I brought up the idea of me going to Nashville with him for the summer. He was cool with it and thus began our Nashville plans.
I had applied for several internships with some music companies out there in hopes of doing some marketing and other communication related work. One of the companies I applied for was Country Music Television. I thought for sure I had that internship in the bag. I sent in my application, and then a few days later, I called them to make sure they received it. They asked for my name, and I told them, and then they recognized it by commenting that I was ‘the guy from California’. I was stoked that they knew who I was. My application was fierce. I thought I for sure had this internship in the bag.
Several weeks passed and we were nearing the end of the semester. Dave and I had our plans set for Nashville. It was at the end of the semester (I was currently Student Body President) that I found out I was unable to run for a second year of presidency. I was torn about that. In the same week, I found out that none of my applications for the internships were accepted. I was a mess. Nothing was going as I had planned.
I ended up still going to Nashville. I had no job lined up, nor an internship. Looking back, it really was a work of God that I ended up in Nashville. He took me away from everything and provided a summer of relaxation, a summer of great friendship, and a summer of great memories. It was in this summer that I bought my Starbucks Gold Card. I never had a job while in Nashville. Instead, while Dave was working, I walked down the street and spent time at my ‘office’. My office was Starbucks.
I did ninety percent of my blogging while I was at Starbucks. Now that I am back, Starbucks is still a place that I will hold close to my heart. There are so many good memories that are tied with Starbucks. I became a regular in that Starbucks and I got to know the other regulars at that store. I also love coffee. I always have. My Gold Card provided me discounted coffee, free internet, and a lifetime of memories. It will be expiring here in a few months. That saddens me just a bit, but I’m also okay with it. Because of my Gold Card I had access to internet that allowed me to blog about my experiences so that I can easily revisit them.
I have a website. It is http://www.stevensanchezjr.com. I use the website as a personal blog and as a means to share some of my photography with the world. The point of my website is to simply share my life with anybody who may be interested in what’s going on in my life. On my blog, I’ve also included a mini-feed of my tweets. My tweets serve as a mini-blog, while my website serves as a more in depth, more detailed blog. Now, why do I post my stuff online? Who needs to know what I’m doing right now or what I’ve done in the past? I don’t know anybody personally who needs to know … but I do know people who enjoy to know.
One of my biggest fans of my site would be my mama. I don’t always call home as often as I should to keep my parents in the loop of what I’m doing. Somehow, however, I can find time to post my stuff online. By posting it online, my mom is able to keep tabs on me and share in my stories and adventures that is my life away from home. Then, aside from my mom, I have several friends who I don’t get to see regularly but keep tabs on me via my blog.
It is kind of funny how my blog came about. I had never really thought of being a blogger until this past summer. I started my blog in preparations for an internship that I would be doing the next semester. So starting my blog wasn’t necessarily by choice, but it has become something that I’m proud of and enjoy having. Over the summer I was publishing something to my blog on a daily basis. This was also part of my preparation for my upcoming internship. In doing this, I was creating a presence for myself online. Blogging during this particular summer was one of the highlights, to be honest. I really didn’t think that I was a blogger because I had never cared for writing at all. However, I found blogging to be a great way to process my thoughts throughout the day, or simply to share funny stories that I had encountered that day.
Another drive that kept me blogging was that I had actually acquired a following. I would keep tabs on the statistics of my blog. Over that summer, I had about fifty to sixty regular followers that checked my blog. I really didn’t think that I would gather a following at all, let alone fifty plus people to be looking at my site every day! It was really neat knowing that there were people who were interested in what I had to say.
In terms of what I published to my blog: randomness. I remember that my first post was really off the wall. I was directed to stay away from the “okay world this is my first post, so here goes nothing” message – and I also wanted to avoid doing that myself. So, my first post was about a show that I was watching at the time. The show? Dirty Jobs. On this particular episode, they were making dog food out of unused animal parts. It really was an interesting first post. But after revisiting some of my first posts, I really had some entertaining ones in there. I was new to the blogging thing and was trying to get a feel for what type of content I wanted to publish.
I was also on the east coast at the time. So a lot of my posts were also updates on my travels, life, and experiences. Now that my internship is completed and almost a year has gone by, I still treasure my blog. I am saddened a bit that I haven’t been able to publish to it as regularly as I did. Now I’m lucky if I can get two posts in a month or so. Owning my own website and having my own blog has really helped me improve my writing abilities as well as helped me in simply expressing myself. It is often too easy for me to keep things to myself. But since I’ve had my blog, I’ve posted trials that I’ve been going through, and then in doing that, people have written back with their trials and provided words of encouragement.
As far back as I can remember I have always loved taking pictures. I was simply fascinated by being able to capture a moment in time and to be able to look at it later on. I can also recall that early on I was always looking for unique shots. I remember an instance when I went out into my backyard, with my Crayola brand camera in hand, and was looking for shots that I could take. Already back then, I had an eye for photography.
A couple years back my family moved. In the moving process I was going through all of my old stuff. In going through my stuff I had come across that packet of pictures. I never was able to get all of my rolls of film developed. This roll had been developed, though. It was really a treat to look back on those photos because I remember taking them so vividly. It really is neat to know that photography is something I have enjoyed for so long – and will continue to enjoy for a long time.
Now that photography has become so easy, it is something I do on a daily basis. When I say photography has become easy, I say that in the terms of photography going digital – you have endless shots (as long as your memory card can hold them). Also, now almost all phones come with a camera built in. There is no need for film, no need for developing, you can see the pictures instantly, and you can even publish them instantly.
I’ve had small point and shoot cameras for the most part of my life. These cameras are great, too, don’t get me wrong. One can do some quality stuff with a point and shoot camera. I definitely have some of my favorites that I’ve taken with my own. It was in high school, when I became involved in yearbook, that I was introduced to the big D-SLR cameras. These cameras are real beauties. They take gorgeous pictures, and then they allow you to take total control of the camera settings to allow in exactly how much light you need, to set the shutter speed to exactly what you need, etc.
It was Christmas 2008 that I purchased my very own camera. It is a Canon Rebel xSi. I have named him Bartholomew (Bart for short). Owning my own D-SLR has opened up a whole new world of photography to me. I love this thing dearly and have used it so much. My camera and my photography is my escape. When I’m having a rough day I can grab my camera, go for a drive, and turn that emotion into some real pieces of art. My camera is almost a therapy device for me.
Aside from using my camera to discharge my energies, I’ve also used it to capture the joys of life. I have photographed several weddings, I have done photo sessions for friends, and I have photographed daily life. Pictures are powerful. Capturing pictures allows for great memories to also live on forever. It makes me happy that I’ve been able to share my joy of photography with some of the people who’ve hired me to capture their joys.
The biggest joy I get from my camera is that it allows me to capture life through a different lens. It also allows me to get out in the world, slow down, and really stop to look around at life. With my camera, I can do so much and look at things from so many different angles than I normally would. There could be a flower growing through a crack in the cement and I will get down and lay on the ground just to get a unique angle on that flower to capture a great photo. In another instance, I can stand on a rock or chair and look down at something to get that different perspective. My camera has really allowed me to stop and take time and enjoy what’s around me and get me away from the hectic lifestyle that can be so overpowering many of times.
My name is engraved on a shiny gold plate that is mounted on a gavel I received when I became Student Body President at Fresno Pacific. This gavel signifies my success and accomplishments in leadership. Leadership has been something that I’ve always enjoyed. It was in high school I learned the joys of being involved in leadership. I enjoy the rush that I get from being some of the sole factors that make the rest of my peers’ experiences enjoyable, and I enjoy having the inside knowledge that comes with being involved. I got my first taste of these joys in high school, as I just mentioned. All four years of high school I was a class officer, as well as officers for different clubs on campus, and actively involved in my high school’s leadership program.
I was blessed to have Debbie Acosta as my activities director as well. This lady was amazing and she was more than a teacher – she was a friend. Just recently I had the privilege of writing a letter of recommendation for Debbie. Debbie really allowed me the space and encouraged me to really find out what kind of leader I can be. I worked with her very closely my last three years of high school. It seemed, too, that each year I performed a feat that was larger than the last.
At the end of my sophomore year, I began planning an event called “Every 15 Minutes” to happen at my school. This event was a two-day event that promoted alcohol awareness and anti-drinking and driving campaigns. It took a year to plan, and we worked closely with the CHP who provided us a ten-thousand dollar grant. In a nutshell, on day one we stage a mock car crash near campus with some of our own students. Some of the students ‘die’ and are taken away at the scene. We had cops, ambulance, coroners, and even a helicopter show up to our event. It is an intense two days that are emotionally draining because so many people are pulled out of class and ‘die’. Even though this is all fake, the event feels so real and is a harsh eye opener to the realities of drinking and driving. My friend and I organized this event to happen our junior year.
Come my senior year, I was the rally man. I hosted numerous rallies, and organized countless games. I had organized a huge majority of the festivities to happen during our homecoming week. The week had played out smoothly; all the events and dress up days were a huge success. Friday morning some friends and I arrived to school early to put some final touches on our senior class float. I had a question about something, so I called Debbie and talked to her for a bit. That same morning I was to meet with Debbie because she was going to take me to our elementary school – I was going to speak at an assembly they were having. However, Debbie never showed up that morning. So instead, one of my principals took me over.
When I got back from the assembly, I found out that Debbie had fallen victim to some kidney stones that came out of nowhere. Friday was our biggest day for homecoming. We had our parade that went through town, the big Friday afternoon rally before the game, and then the dance that night. It was that day that I had to re-plan everything from scratch. All of our files were on her computer that we had no access to. I don’t even remember how I got it all together, but I somehow organized the parade that morning, and then got the rally done, and then got all the stuff organized for senior night that night, and then got the dance lined up. It was a crazy day for sure, but one that I’ll never forget. I also really do think that it was one of the best homecomings we’ve had – not because of me, but because of our school. We had awesome school spirit that year … and that night I was crowned homecoming king. J
After high school, I came to college. I knew that I wanted to get involved at college, but I didn’t know quite sure how to go about it. Upon my first weeks of school I learned about Student Senate. It sounded fun, and I went for it. I didn’t have high expectations, though. I didn’t know anybody at all. My first few weeks at college were rough, to be honest. I didn’t know anybody and had a tough time making friends. So I would go to class, go back to my room, and only leave to go eat in the cafeteria. That’s just how it was. Election Day came, and I was running against four or five other candidates. Three of us would be elected. To my surprise, I was one of the top three and thus began my involvement at FPU.
I was a freshman senator, and then a sophomore senator. At the end of my sophomore year I ran for President. I was taking a big chance on that one, especially because I was running against two juniors, who would be seniors during their reign. Again, though, to my surprise I won the election. I was to be Student Body President in my junior year of college.
My involvement in Student Executive while at FPU has been a real treat. The relationships that I made from my freshman year until now are some of the best friendships I have. I miss everybody who has graduated, tremendously. Each year was an experience in itself – we had our own battles that we fought and fought hard for. Each year, too, the teams were so different and unique. The year that I was president, I couldn’t have asked for a better team. We were all veterans to the office and all had a common desired outcome.
In my times of Student Executive, I have learned and grown so much. I gained a ton of real-world experience when it comes to inside politics. I learned how to work with those that you’re not necessarily fond of, and I learned how to stand up for myself and stand for those who believe in the same things as me. In my experiences, there were definite struggles, tears, and many frustrations. But it was those struggles, tears, frustrations that brought me to where I am today. There were times when I was in position, and God put certain things on my plate to deal with that I simply didn’t want to deal with. But he put those items on my plate to build me up as a person, as a leader, as a follower. It was in these times that I also knew he was working on me and I hated every minute of it. It was in the end, however, that I was able to look back and identify the growth and progress I’ve made.
So I have this green shirt. It is a lime green dress shirt. I have had this shirt since my junior year in high school. I still actually wear it now. This was the shirt that I wore when I made my Confirmation – a holy sacrament in the Catholic religion. As I mentioned earlier, I was indeed raised catholic. In my catholic upbringing, we weren’t the most avid church attendees. We went on all the major holidays, and then most weekends during summer (because of the festas). From a young age, though, I did attend catechism. Catechism was a once a week Sunday-school type of thing, except we met on a weekday after school. I actually enjoyed catechism a lot – mostly because it meant that I was able to spend more time with my friends.
I took these catechism classes through high school. In my younger years I received the sacraments of Baptism (just after I was born), Holy Reconciliation, and the Eucharist. Come my junior year of high school, I began my preparations to receive the sacrament of confirmation. Before we could do our confirmation, we had to take confirmation-preparation classes for a year. This class was a form of ‘super catechism’ in that we began to get tested on stuff that we learned and were to make sure that we understood what we were learning and what it meant to us.
We were in this confirmation class right in the middle of high school. I went to a public high school. I knew who Jesus was and believed in him, but I didn’t live a Christian lifestyle at the time. I had more fun enjoying the high school life and prioritized fun and socializing over what really was important in life. It was in this time when I wasn’t always making the smartest decisions and in my confirmations classes at the same time that I began to take notice of a few things. I was beginning to acknowledge God working in my life and began to have a desire to take my faith into my own hands and start my walk with God on my own. I saw the sacrament of my Confirmation as the perfect opportunity to do so.
I began to take my confirmation class a little more serious. I began to go to church every Sunday (it was also required of us) but while I was in church, I began to pay more attention to the readings and sermons that were happening. I was getting really excited to finally claim God in my life as something that I wanted to do. The day of my confirmation arrived, and it was a great day. I can mark that day (and the days in preparation before) as the time when I really allowed God into my life and I took control of my own faith.
Now, in preparation for the day of my confirmation, we all went out and got special outfits because this was indeed a special day. Our teachers, however, asked that we be modest in what we get, and they wanted us to wear black and white or dark navy and white. I simply chuckled. That color scheme wasn’t me. I was excited about receiving the Holy Spirit. I wanted my outfit to be just as excited as I was. So, on the day of my confirmation, I wore a lime green dress shirt and khaki pants. To me, it wasn’t up to what the teachers thought about how we looked. I felt that my personal relationship with God was way more important than what I was wearing. I had also learned at a retreat when I was much younger that God doesn’t care what we wear to church. When the teacher told me that at the time, it took me back, and I was shocked to hear that. After I pondered that thought several years later – it is really true. It doesn’t matter what we look like or what we wear. What matters is what’s in our heart and our relationship with God.
It was that day, the day of my confirmation that I first ‘stuck it to the man’. I wore my bright, lime green shirt proudly. The other guys were in muted, dark colors. Me, on the other hand, I was excited and I let it show. My confirmation was my first steps in my faith with God, and I will be forever happy and thankful that I started to make that walk.
Grandma. My maternal grandmother has been a big part of my life. She has been there for as long as I can remember. She is my grandmother who has always lived the closest to us, and she is the grandmother I see the most. Her name is Vera. For this narrative, though, we’re going to call her grandma. Her husband, my grandpa Frank, passed away when I was only three years old. I never had the chance to know him. I do have one memory of him that I can recall vividly. It is just a snapshot in my mind from when I was very young. We were all at my grandparent’s house. My grandpa was sitting at the kitchen table talking to some of the other adults. I was in the other room, and between the two rooms is a window-type opening. I can remember looking through that window and seeing him sitting at the table. It was just a few weeks ago, April 4, that made the anniversary of Grandpa’s passing.
Grandma comes from the Azores – Portuguese islands located in the Atlantic Ocean. The island our family comes from is called Terceira. The Portuguese culture was a huge influence in my raising. I attribute a lot of this to my grandma. Her parents came to America from the islands. They spoke no English and had five kids: Manuel, Mary, Erma, Vera, and Velma. My grandma said that growing up, they spoke nothing but Portuguese at home. When the kids were in school, they spoke English. My family has lived the Portuguese-American “dream” – they had dairies and supported themselves with the dairy.
My grandma spoke of making their own butter from milk that came straight from their cows. In my experiences in the Portuguese culture, the women are to stay at home and work for the household until they’re married. Granted, these are for the more traditional “Greenhorns” as we call them. But, I have seen this true in some of my friends who are my age that I’ve grown up with. The females have far less privileges than the males do, and are expected to stay at home and clean, cook, take care of the younger siblings. This was also the case for my grandma. She said that she was out milking cows until the day before her wedding.
When it came for my grandma’s turn to become a mother, she took a different approach in raising her kids. My grandparents owned their own dairy, but instead of making the two boys and my mother work on the dairy, they let them work where they wanted. Three things that my grandma did keep constant from her upbringing and to the upbringing of my mom and my uncles were church, cooking, and festas. My mom kept those same three things a constant in my upbringing as well. I would also go so far as to say that these three things are staples of the Portuguese culture.
I was raised going to mass on all the holidays, and then every weekend of the summer while we were at different festas. I was also raised on the best tasting, most unhealthy cooking. These three things have become huge components of my life. I was always around the church growing up, but it wasn’t until later in my life that I took hold of my own faith. Both my mom and grandma are some of the best cooks I know. They are the best at making that home-made comfort food. Upon visiting my home (or any other Portuguese home), you will never leave hungry. Cooking has become another passion in my life – so much so that before attending Pacific, I was enrolled in culinary school. Last but not least, we have festas. Festas are a huge deal in the Portuguese culture. They are symbolic of Queen Elizabeth in Portugal giving up her crown to the church and feeding the poor people of her country. In the history of festas, are amazing stories of the power of the Holy Spirit. Festas are weekend celebrations filled with food, dancing, and socializing – all things I love.
The Portuguese culture is something that will be forever rooted deep within me. I am thankful for my grandma and that she kept the Portuguese traditions alive and instilled them in my mother, who then instilled them in me. When the time comes that I get married and have children of my own – I would love to instill these same great traditions in them as well. I also hope that my grandma will be there to see my own kids. She is such a spunky and fun lady who I love so much.
So for my capstone class in communication, we are asked to do a final narrative project. I did mine.
I composed a larger narrative that consists of eight smaller narratives. I’m going to gradually post some of these entries just for fun.
Here goes:
The following is a series of smaller narratives, which as a whole serve as a larger personal narrative telling stories of things, times, and events that have molded me into who I am today. I am writing this narrative as an undergraduate senior in his final days before graduation. I will share stories from my past, about my family, and about my friends. I have only been on this earth for twenty two years, but in these past twenty two years I have gone through many different phases of life. It is in the more recent phases of life that I have really transformed and become the man I am today. I invite you to take a look at my story as I reflect on some of these things that I feel make me who I am today.
Growing up, all the other kids had rocking horses to entertain them. Not me. I had a rocking cow. I loved my rocking cow. I grew up in a small town – Riverdale. When I say small, I mean small. Our high school population was five hundred students, and our town population was barely three thousand. Everybody knew each other, and everybody knew everybody’s business. In high school, we joked around and called our hometown “Rumor-ville”. Riverdale was known for its dairies and smelly water. Despite all that was just said, Riverdale really is a nice town. It is small, quaint, and not over-run by big chains and franchises. It is a nice little country town that is just far enough from everything, but also close enough to some bigger cities that make for easy shopping trips and outings.
I received my rocking cow from my uncle, who was also my God Father. Growing up, and still today, I call him Nino. He is my mother’s older brother (his name is Dave). Uncle Dave – Nino – is a very skilled carpenter. He has made countless pieces for me and my family. Now this rocking cow wasn’t any dinky old rocking cow. This cow was big and sturdy. It measured about three feet tall by about five feet wide. So growing up, this thing was huge! For a long time, it was bigger than me and I had to climb it to get on and ride it. My rocking cow was white with black spots, had a pink, wooden utter, big googly eyes, and a little tuff of yarn hair on the top of its head as well as a long, braided yarn tail on its rear.
I can recall sitting on my rocking cow and just rocking for what seemed like hours upon hours. In reality, it was probably just a couple of minutes. Growing up, time seemed to pass by so slowly. Now, it just seems to speed on by. I loved my rocking cow. To be honest, I don’t think that I ever named my rocking cow. It was safe to say that I was probably the only kid in town who had a rocking cow.
My cow was unique. It was hand made by my uncle. Nobody else had one. It is for those factors that I loved my cow even more – I was the only one who had one. Even today, I enjoy having things that others don’t. In saying that, I don’t want to sound materialistic or pride myself on the things I have. I want to make the point that I enjoy being unique and different. For example, with iPods and iPhones; everybody has them. Because so many people have those products, I choose not to buy them. I don’t want to be a part of the fad.
Looking back at how I loved my rocking cow then and at how unique it was helps me identify it as one of the first signs of my uniqueness and desire to not be in the norm. As I have come to live in these more recent years of the life I have lived, I do enjoy making a statement; being different; making a lasting impression. I enjoy being the one that will be remembered (for good things, of course). I like people to be able to think back and say oh yeah, he was that guy. It may be because of my hair, or my tattoos, or piercings, words, actions or deeds. Regardless of what it may be, I enjoy and strive to leave a good impression on others. I strive to stand out and be a little more unique than everybody else. Why, hey, I had a rocking cow.
Dude. Sitting here. In a coffee shop. Earphones in. Coffee in front of me. No rush to be anywhere.
So I’m on spring break. This break, as compared to some of my recent breaks, has been tamed way down. No big and crazy trips. Simply, sticking around Fresno, hanging out. I would have much rather gone on a trip and done something crazy. A few friends and I had a Mexican Riviera Cruse lined up.. but finances didn’t allow.
However, break has still been good. Monday I went home and spent the day with my Mom. She made me a bomb Portuguese breakfast. Then went to Grandma’s house. We had another bomb Portuguese lunch. Then went back home and dinner with Mom and Dad. We just relaxed. Was nice to go home. Ha, my mom even has a new sign-thingy hanging in her kitchen that reads, “good food. good friends. good times.” I’m especially a fan of that sign, because I’m prettttty sure I’ve used those words numerous times as status updates.
Hrm. Seriously. Can I get paid to sit in a coffee shop, listen to music, and blog? I’ve got a summer’s experience. I’d like to think I’m good at it. And, it just makes me really happy. I’m pretty much on cloud nine right now. I’m a huge fan of these little cubicle-area-things over here at the Revue. Kind of wish they had a curtain, though. I would close it and take a short nap in here.
*shrug*