Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Ash's Random Tidbit of the Week: Richard C. Miller

Richard C. Miller
(August 6, 1912-)
Photographer

I often wonder how people who were so incredible in their heigh-day can fade so easily into a very under-appreciated obscurity.
Imagine,somewhere...somewhere in the United State (I'm incl
ined to think New York), there is a ninety-eight year old living legend who has brushed elbows with the likes of James Dean and Marilyn Monroe--who was in demand during Hollywood's Golden Age.
This man is Richard C. Miller.
What fascinated me the most, I suppose, about coming upon him randomly as I strolled through the web yesterday...is that he was, perhaps, one of the very first to witness the transformation of Norma Jean Baker into the character she would play for the rest of her life--Marilyn Monroe.

This is incredibly intriguing to me, as I am an avid fan of old school Hollywood in general...in his photographs you can see the untutored beauty
of a young woman--who has yet to be touched by the hand of fame.

Haunting, and fascinating, Miller recalled "She was very nice when she was Norma Jean, very sweet. She came to dinner at the house. A nice, friendly girl...She's quite different now."


His photographs of James Dean, likewise, represent the boldness of his rugged character...yet, the advent of his youth.
Mr. Miller, who was particular friends with Dean, was devastated at the news of his tragic death at the age of twenty-four.















His ulterior portraits, also, express his true merit as an artist.


Today, Miller lives with his daughter Jan.
He is occasionally asked to present his work as exhibits.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Hi. Lets Assume You Know My Life Story--Brit



I get this from time to time. I am working at the front desk of my job doing my thing--taking phone calls (and the occasional checking of the email and I guess to every ones assumptions *GASP* facebooking? NO!) helping clients, getting the fax, buzzing attorneys when their clients have arrived 45 minutes late. There comes a time when there is always that ONE person who thinks its appropriate to ask me that one question I despise. Let me break it down for you.

Client: "Oh how long have you lived in the valley?"
Me: "All my life."
Client: "Oh wow I've lived here for a few years."
Me: "Mhmm."
Client. "Let me guess one of those?" -- she glances back at the news paper as if it was nothing.
Me: "Excuse me?" --Me very perplexed.
Client: "Oh you know--stayed home because of a baby." at this point my cheeks are flushed not out of embarrassment but out of sheer anger. But I quickly played it off with a sweet smile and said.
Me: "Haha. No. I actually take care of my Grandfather, AND I am a full time college student."
Client: "OHHH realllllllllly? Well good for you!" and that is the end of that.

See after telling the truth, and proving them wrong that I am NOT a "Conway Casualty" (I have dubbed this saying meaning someone who is a nobody or with NO education what so ever or with a few kids, no jobs and all they do is bitch bitch BITCH about how much they hate their life.) I am very shocked that this always seems to come out of "rich folks" mouth as well. Excuse me. I know that I may seem like a wee little peon but everybody needs to start from somewhere. But what I don't get or except is that people decide to judge and assume my life story. Fine, ask but you will be disappointed that I am not what you think I am all because I am still in the same town that I have grown up in.

I am 21 years old. I am kind of content with my life. I enjoy the simple things in life, and one of them happens to be the creature comforts of home. I have my Grandfather -- who is my world. I also found found love with my goober. I am sorry that I didn't go off to a college campus like the majority of the kids I went to school with but its also cheaper to stay home. It is not to say that I am not ever going to leave. Oh yes I will. When I am good a freakin' ready thanks. I think that the next time someone like THAT asks me if I have a baby I am going to ask how thick their wallet is and if they would like to donate for their stupidity.

Granted I will admit I can't even count on my fingers and toes anymore the kids I have gone to school with, who aren't doing anything with themselves. Why? Their own personal reason or another. I have learned that I have the power to make myself happy which goes for everyone else. There isn't a "I can't do this." it seems more like "I don't feel like it." Its hard today not to have a college degree to get a job anymore. Unless you want to stock shelves at walmart for 8 bucks. Try filling your freezer with food (or beer.) and still pay things off. Education is key. Get it. Use it. More and more kids today aren't trying. My question on that is Where are the parents? I know for a fact I would hate to be a 45 year old Grand Ma. How embarrassing would it be to go to the store with the toddler and someone asks "oh my gosh your daughter is sooooo cute." the reply "Oh not she's my granddaughter." Ya. like that's not going to raise an eyebrow or two when told.

Here's my to do list:
1. Graduate college. Year around 2013-- age : 24
2. Own a house/get married age. 25-26
3. Baby. Age 27

Ya. I have goals. Thanks.

Kids are great....as long as they are someone else's...for now.

So moral of the story. Don't assume you know my life story. Think about it.


Sunday, August 29, 2010

Ash: The Modern Cajun-American Woman


I'm more or less certain when one thinks of the word "Cajun", they begin with a rather unflattering image of a toothless personage in overalls, missing a sensible number of teeth. If they wish to elaborate, perhaps they add an alligator to the picture--or, perchance, a shabby looking cabin in the backdrop of a morose-looking swamp.

Alas, mes amis, take a good hard look at me, and compare me to your stereotype...

Because I am Cajun-American.

A lot of people can and will judge a book by it's cover, and a lot of the time people don't really know how to react whenever they ask my heritage, and I tell them plainly. I'm sure they're wondering what's the pride in being a member of a rare North American sub-culture. I'm sure they were thinking that I look relatively normal in comparison to their natural idea.

Firstly, you're probably wondering what's a Cajun anyway?

To make a long, long history quite short, "Cajun" is actually a word that describes the descendants of the French Acadians.
The French Acadians were people who had migrated to what is modern-day Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island from France to seek political and religious freedoms. They were sort of like the American patriots of their time. They developed advancements in agriculture and harvesting that were singularly unique for their primitive way of living. They created flourishing communities, and traded and cohabited with Indian natives.
However, they were living on British land. When the British began hearing rumors that the Acadians were having amazing harvests and thriving economically, they decided to remove them.

Thus began the Grand Dérangement.

Basically, the British came to the Acadian settlements, and gave them an ultimatum. If the Acadians swore allegiance to the British crown, they could remain. If they refused to swear allegiance to the British crown, they would be swiftly removed.
Needless to say, my people weren't a bunch of weak, flaky individuals.
The expulsion began in 1755, or thereabouts, and continued on until 1762.

There were many skirmishes that broke out due to resistance, and instead of keeping families together, the British threw random people into boats and sent them down along the Eastern coast of the United States.

Without geeking too much about this history, the Acadians eventually ended up in the heart of South Louisiana.
Here, they thrived.

My last name is "Trahan", which is a variation Trahand, a metonymic occupational name for a silkworker who drew the thread from the cocoons, from a derivative of traire ‘to draw or stretch’. It has been ‘translated’ into English as "strong".

This is appropriate, haha. Anyone who knows me will say that I am quite a strong-minded individual.

I live in Abbeville, Louisiana--which is a small town approximately an hour's drive north of the Gulf of Mexico. We refer to ourselves as "delta" or "basin" people, because we basically reside on the Louisiana Delta.

My town is in the heart of Cajun Country, with about 81% of the population being of primarily Cajun decent.
We are primarily bilingual people. The region is familiar with the French language, in various forms. There is French Proper, Cajun French, and Creole French. French Proper and Cajun French are spoken largely here, with Creole French being more regional to New Orleans, and Plantation Country.

However, it's as they say, "francais est francais!"
Meaning, if you can speak or comprehend one, you can more or less speak and comprehend the other.

I suppose I should speak a little about my life and culture here, in comparison to other places that I've been.

Here, we have the law by which one should live:

Le Bon Dieu, la famille, la langue, et la nourriture.
The Good God, the family, the language, and the food.

Traditionally, Cajuns are Roman Catholic.
Family is divided into traditional gender-roles; the father resuming a position as the head of the family, and the mother positioning herself as the neck. Children are often taught broad use of outdoor work; such as building, hunting, fishing, and farming.
English is broadly spoken, though French is often used as a means of bonding between older and younger generations. Immersion schools that promote the sole use of French in the classroom are becoming very popular.
Food is eaten ALL THE TIME. Rice is cooked with ANYTHING. Popular dishes are "rice n' gravy", "jambalaya", and LOTS and LOTS of meat.


Now, you may be wondering...what is it like, growing up as a twenty-year-old Cajun-American Woman?

It's interesting and often strange.

I'd have to say the most difficult part of it is balancing tradition and modernization.

For example:
"The Family" says you're damaged goods if you're not married and making babies by the time you're twenty-five.
I, personally, have no interest in being married or making babies until I am thirty, or thereabouts.

Traditional courting rituals apply for young adults, such as myself, who like to date and such. Cussing gets you reciting three rosaries, lying gets you kneeling in the confessional, and premartial sex gets you a one-way ticket to hell.

In my grandparent's house, a young Cajun woman who is openly known to not be a virgin is seen as "une chienette", or "a little dog".

Living with someone before you're married to them is also frowned upon.

As old-aged as these things may seem, it keeps a moral standard that is rather singular. Although I have an openness to religion and sexuality that sometimes scares my grandmere, I think that I have a very healthy reasoning with both.

And, for the traditions being strict, the young people are very, very affectionate.

For instance, when I went visit friends in Maine, about two years ago, I was rather shocked by the way the two sexes interacted.
Here, for instance, boys and girls that have no desire to date one another still greet each other with hugs, and sometimes even kisses. It's a friendly thing that isn't taken with a serious context. I observed that this would perhaps be considered cheated in another area of the country, but here it's just considered friendly, and even polite.
In Maine, when I arrived, I greeted both of my friend's parents with a hug. They looked at me like I was crazy. It was amusing for the moment, but confused me upon later thought.
I discovered that physical interaction is another thing that I really enjoy about my culture. We're very touchy-feel people. Hugs, kisses, back pats, handshakes, all contribute greatly to our body language, and what we mean to say to one another.

I suppose I should talk about the opposite sex from a female's POV.

Cajun boys are notorious charmers.
I can attest that went "Les yankes" come down here looking for romance, they aren't apt to leave.

Cajun boys have a two main occupations they can look forward to in the workforce: Farming and Petroleum.
They usually know how to dance quite well--namely to various culturally significant songs accompanying a guitar, accordion, and fiddle.
A Cajun boy will never, ever drive a car. Big, huge, trucks are testaments to manhood...
It's sort of in the same ideology of "the bigger the truck, the bigger the you-know-what".
He has two shirts "every day", and "work".
When approaching a lady, he tips his hat (if he's wearing one).
When accompanying a lady, he opens the door, remains standing until she's seated, and doesn't speak until he's spoken to.
When greeting a lady, he waits until she reaches out her hand, and then proceeds to bend and kiss it.
They're raised to be gentlemen, and avid protectors of the feminine--mind you, they can be assholes until they hit the age of thirty.

All in all, I'd say I've given a pretty good idea of where I come from.

As we speak, I'm hoping that people's ideas of Cajun-Americans can be broadened.
We come from humble and conservative roots, but we are also modern and innovative.
I'd like to think that I'm proof of that.
I look forward to breaking down walls of convention, yet at the same time being able to sit with my children and eat supper every night, and speak to them in French--as my family does every night.

C'est si bon!

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

I'm Singular--Wanna Fix That?

Just a reminder: be completely honest with
all your answers, I will be consulting Facebook to ensure honesty. Any
false information will automatically nullify any
chance you might have had. Thanks.
Also: this application must be filled out in its entirety
in order to be considered for the position that you
are applying. Photographs may sway my opinion
one way or the other, feel free to attach any that
you think may help you gain this position.




Basic Information:


Full Legal Name: ___________________________________________

Age: ________

Height: _______

Weight: _______

Eye Color: ______

Natural Hair Color: __________________

Current Hair Color ___________________


Contact Information:

Home Phone: _______________________

Cell Phone: _________________________

E-mail: ____________________________


Knowledgeable Information:

Are you a Man-Whore? (Y / N)
If you are a Man-Whore, how long have you been such? ____________________

Have you ever had a sex change? (Y / N)

Are you confident with the size of your anatomy? (Y / N)

Do you possess any venereal diseases? (Y / N)
If so, how many, and list them in alphabetical order: ___________________________________________________________________

Do you smoke? (Y / N)
If so, how often? ______________________________________

Do you drink? (Y / N)
If so, how often? ______________________________________

Do you use illegal substances? (Y / N)
If so, how often, and list them in alphabetical order: ____________________________________________________________________

Do you have kids? (Y /N)
If so, how many, and by how many different mothers:______________________________

Do you currently have a source of income? (Y / N)

Do you live with your parents? (Y / N)
If not, describe your current living situation: ____________________________________________________________________

Do you have a history of mental illness? (Y / N)

Have you ever cheated on a "significant other"? (Y / N)

Do you cook? (Y / N)

Do you clean? (Y / N)

Do you give aromatherapy massages? (Y / N)

Do you have any siblings? (Y / N)
If so, how many, and state their ages and sex: ___________________________________

Do you have a religion? (Y / N)
If so, describe: _________________________________________________________

Do you have a political persuasion? (Y / N)
If so, describe: _________________________________________________________

Do you have any piercings? (Y / N)
If so, where: __________________________________________________________

Do you have any tattoos? (Y / N)
If so, where: __________________________________________________________

Do I have to worry about any bitch-ass ex-girlfriend of yours wanting to shank me? (Y / N)

List your three favorite genres of music, from most favorite to least favorite:
-
-
-


Further Evaluation:

What is your idea of a perfect date, in three sentences or less: ____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________

List special skills that would assist you in being given this position:
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________

What do you want out of a relationship, in three sentences or less:
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________

Best relationship experience?
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________

Worst relationship experience?
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________

Explain your views on the phrase "Bros Before Hoes", in three sentences or less:
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________


Relationship Background:
List your past three relationships, starting with the most recent

Start Date:
End Date:
Emotionally Successful? (Y / N)

Start Date:
End Date:
Emotionally Successful? (Y / N)

Start Date:
End Date:
Emotionally Successful? (Y / N)


References:

Please supply three references (preferably attractive males between the ages of 20-26):
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________



I hereby certify that the information given by me in this application is true to my knowledge, and I give the authorized person(s) permission to verify it by any means deemed appropriate. I understand that by filling out this form and submitting it for review, I still may stand no chance in hell.


Date:____________ Signature: _____________________

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Brit's: Mean Words At The Office



The sound of ticking-and-taping of keyboard sounds me. Everywhere. I take a deep breath. I reach under my desk and grab my purse and start to rummage through the abyss. Fumbling through all of my shit-which I am still trying to understand why I have to have so much crap. I move my Purell and found the item I wanted most. My Ipod. I gingerly place each ear piece in the appropriately labeled ear (left goes into the left, and the right goes into the right geesh) and turn on the music. *ah* soliace of the blasting hard rock that is on there at the moment.






My job is filled with bullshit, and mostly back-stabbing women. Its always girls who enjoy the untenable turmoil of others. Why? Because girls don't "beat each other up" if things go airway. Their form of "dueling" is the act of verbal abuse. Please that whole saying "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" is probably the worlds biggest load of crap I have ever heard. Please, I would much rather pull out the fista-cuffs then deal with the harsh words, so much easier. And now as the song "hit me with your best shot" blasts through my earphones shows me that sometimes enough is freaking enough. Women are mean and malicious with their actions and its quite scary.






Yesterday in particular, was kinda an off day. I hate coming into work with everyone (well a majority of the downstairs folks I work with) likes to whisper about me. I was chained at my desk with a lot more anger than usual. All because I saw in written words, what my so called "office mother" wrote to someone else about me "oh I get it, she's too busy with her boyfriend to do school work, she she comes to work and does it" --wow hold up. First I am sure you are wondering how I saw this, at the firm here (I work at a Law office) we have this thing called "stickies" kinda like instant messaging through out the office. She left this stickie up, and I just happened to see it because I was answering the backup phone at her desk, cause I don't have one at mine. Low and behold the words were there, and of course out of human nature you are going to read whatever it is that's laid out on the screen.




Here's the deal, besides the obvious. I decide to change my career from a history teacher to become a paralegal. I got interested because when I started working here part time in the winter of 07' law was cool. Still is but if only the ends justify the means right? In June of 2009 I became full time here and then in September I enrolled at Kaplan University online for my paralegal degree. Things seemed all honky dory if you will, I was allowed to bring in school work, ask questions, and I enjoyed asking questions from the professionals. I was on the Presidents List thanks to the A's I had received. Then, everything, started to go downhill. It was before hand just a little with one woman who I swear had a personal vendetta against me for nothing but she left the firm and I thought all was calm in the land. WRONG-O. My "office mom" and the girl out front had started to talk shit about me. They watched my every move, what I did, what I was doing. I deleted them off of my facebooks (no-blocked them actually) because we weren't friends, they were just keeping tabs on me, you know just in case if I had logged on at all to day. (funny cause they would have to too...right? hmm) They observed how long I was using my cellphone (that I am not allowed to have at my desk cause my boss swears I have a texting problem....yaaa haha) or how long I have been in the ladies room wondering what on earth I could really be doing. Drugs. Simple. Wow. The beauty of this is that, I know some dirt on one of these girls that could potinally destroy her marriage. She shouldn't be so careless with things....




Since all of this mean back-stabbing stuff has been happening, my grades have dropped from A's to C's. I don't care about school anymore. It just doesn't feel the same as it use to when I first started out. I wanted to be able to come to work with a smile on my face, and to think I would be the one to excel over all because I already work at a law office with the people I need to be with. WRONG. Every time someone from the downstairs area freaking starts being all buddy-buddy with me I bite my tongue hard enough to either lose it or just taste the blood. Now hold it-- I have already spoken with my boss. He says if I catch them saying things about me come to him, but other than that I have no proof of this. OH wow wait-- and before you roll your eyes even more, The reason why I stay, is because first of all, where I live there is nothing here but working at McDonald's OR being a chamber maid and being paid 10x's less than what I make here. (though that isn't really enough either) And the days that don't entirely suck, are tolerable. I do take for granted the days that everyone is getting along. I have learned that hey, if my boss wanted me fired, then he would have fired me LOOOOOONG ago. And its kinda funny to see them all frustrated when I get away with things that they think I should be punished for. I am trying to get back into the school mode and do my best. It will look wonderful on my updated resume that I had worked for a law firm during (maybe? dunno what the future holds!) my college career.
I know that no matter where you go I am not always going to get along with everyone, and that's fine. The world isn't a perfect place, because the people in it are not perfect. I have been known to be outspoken at times when I shouldn't. I know I should confront those who speak ill of me but I am afraid by doing so will only make this third-layer of hell worse. I find that perhaps silence is the best answer for some things rather more than words. Its just sad that I in the end-will know everything. I always do. Though I know you should always tell someone how you feel, but its different when you're a grown up. This isn't high school anymore. This is the real world and the real world down right sucks at times.
From this experience, I will take with me to whatever other firm I will go to when I graduate college. I know deep down in my heart I will get my B.A. in Paralegal studies and become someone. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger in the end, and I know I am the bigger person than those words.
-Britney.
(I am sure that the mention of mean girls wont be the last time I say anything either....ha ha)

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Ash: The Doomed Efforts of the "Nice Girl"

You know that old saying "nice guys finish last"?
Whoever invented that saying had a mild form of redundancy, because apparently the term goes both ways...
I have not been involved in a serious relationship for more than two years. I was content with this. My last serious relationship, in which the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" were used, ended in utter and complete disaster.
He was a mental and physical abuser, and a drug aficionado. I was a naive girl who didn't have the courage to remove myself when things became very--very bad.
Therefore, I have been discouraged...and dare I say disdainful...about involving myself in a serious, committed relationship at this age. I figure that when I get older, I'll certainly have more security with myself, and may be able to take on such a feat. But life, mon amis, never occurs as planned...

Insert "Damien".
I had met him through a mutual friend, and he pursued me tirelessly for months.
"Damien" was not my ideal vision of a man. I had promised myself a tall, strong-minded intellectual. Damien was neither tall (standing at 5'8), nor strong-minded (he could not make any decisions), and certainly not intellectual (he was confused when I cited Bronte in casual conversation)...yet, he was charming, and very sweet.
I allowed him to take me out.
I allowed him to tell me I was "amazing".
I said yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend, formally, over a dinner of homemade pancakes.

Two weeks into the relationship, he's disoriented and doesn't know what he wants.
I had warned him:
I am not a walk in the park.
I am a determined, steadfast woman with opinions and an iron character. My desire for stimulation in conversation vexed him, and he said he would try, but he never pulled through.
To make matters worse, he broke up with me...while I was at work...OVER FACEBOOK.

What I do not, and perhaps will never understand, is how could I be dumped in such a way, when I treated him so well?
A few examples:
- I surprised him with a coconut snowcone one afternoon, because he had said it was his favorite
- I went to see him play soccer at 7pm after returning from a very tiring weekend in Houston--having not slept for three nights straight, and remained with him at the field until 10pm
- I made him dinner on several occasions
- I took him to a concert in Baton Rouge--AND PAID FOR HIS TICKET.

What did I do wrong?

Why did he become confused?

The night before he broke up with me, we spent the night together talking, and holding one another, and he was smiling from ear to ear...
The next morning, only hours after we had parted...he tells me he believes we're too different...
Too different? Or am I just too sure of myself to be his girlfriend?

Perhaps he'd prefer an immature slut with daddy-issues.


Peace. Love. & CherryBombs.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Brit's: For my Grammie



Tomorrow will by my Grandmothers 74th Birthday. In all she would have been 74 if only she survived her battle of cervical cancer on August 13, 2008 that went unnoticed till fully it was too late.






My Grandmother has always been the inspiration of my every being. She told me that one day I would publish something because I wrote all the time. She would read my short stories and poems with full wonder. Now no one really reads my poems unless I truly feel like they are worthy enough. My Gram read EVERYTHING.




I just wanted to say that she is still near and dear to my heart. She was a quiet and shy type of lady who spoke up when something finally hit her. I have to thank this woman who during her last year watched as her only granddaughter but herself through living hell. My Gram knew I had an eating disorder and a drug addiction. (I am clean and healthy now guys) She was quiet none the less but let me cry and scream when ever I wanted to get my feelings out. She would listen when I no one else would. She never judged me or criticized me or anything. Now its almost 2 years since she has been gone almost 2 years since I have held her, hugged her, or even heard her voice. It was hard calling the house and not hearing her voice. The picture above was taken at my High school Graduation of course.


For anyone who has lost someone really close to them, you can relate to my pain that I feel. The day that she died I swear a part of me had died with her. I held her hand till she took her last breath. I remember that I was starting to rub under my eyes almost raw from how much crying I had done. Really after the funeral I didn't have much time to grieve. I had to go back to work put a game face on and pretend I was happy when it felt like my whole world came crashing down upon me. My best friend was gone and I was lonely.


I have so many wonderful memories of my Gram that I keep hidden in a vault in the back of my mind that when something bad happens I always think of it. I can still hear her voice if I listen carefully. I played my Clarinet for the first time in almost a year this morning and I just remembered her and my Grandfather NEVER missed a single concert I was in. She loved my music. She also made the best home-made corn chowder and that whenever I have someone elses it will never be good enough as hers. She also made a killer apple pie too. For the fact that she was quite she was so smart. I miss how she use to always harp on me about either my school work or my college studies. (I took a year off of school after she died.) I wish she could see me now with my Paralegal work. She would be so proud and she would have loved Jason. (she wasn't really too found of my last boyfriend. ha ha) I am shocked at how long she even dealt with my Grandfathers crazy antics but that's love for you. She was strong and never showed she was in pain. I think I adopted that from her. I also adopted her sweet gentleness when I want to be...She showed me how to sew and to knit. I just remember sitting on the couch and watching movies with her or even talking about the most random things. She even let me listen to my hard rock music.


I guess I could go on and on about this woman that I love so near and dear. Heck I even have hers and my Grandfathers initials tattooed into my arm. My Grandparents raised me when my mother (their daughter) couldn't really do it herself. But that's another story all on its own.


Recently I have been going through this turtle thing and I want one. This morning after my little clarinet session I was digging through her dresser to find a pin to wear with my sweater. Low and be hold there was a Turtle Pin.
Seems like my Gram knew I was looking for something. She did always have something up her sleeve.
For those out there that still have your Grandparents, be thankful. I feel so VERY fortunate to have had mine and be so very close. Grandparents are the gate way to the past to shape who you are today. I hope everyone is as lucky as I.
--Brit.