Rinse and Repeat

Enjoy this excerpt from my newest blog published online by The Bundle Magazine about my physical touch love language:

Some things you just know: the sky is up, chicken minis taste like heaven and everyone sounds better in the shower.

One night, my roommate Brooke was about to make the trek to our community bathroom for her shower. We had just been playing our ukuleles together and she asked me to serenade her as she showered. Apparently, I looked like a travel-sized Spotify playlist.

I asked her if anyone was in the bathroom, and when she said “no,” I propped the laptop up on the sink with the ukulele chords, held up my small Kala uke and sang “Reflections” by MisterWives and “Riptide” by Vance Joy to her while she showered. Of course, another girl from our hall walked in, so I clumsily explained why I was standing by the hand dryer with a Mac and a mini guitar. She laughed and encouraged me to continue.

As a previous choir nerd (shout out to the alto section), it makes sense that I would sing in the shower.

But I’ll be honest that it’s not just the shower – I sing everywhere. When I get ready in the morning, on the way to class and in the car. And through the joys of living in a community bathroom, I’ve realized that it’s not only singers who let loose when the suds start.

Continue reading here

A Cat, Not a Cat Lady

Enjoy this excerpt from my newest blog published online by The Bundle Magazine about my physical touch love language:

I don’t really like cats.

This is probably due to a combination of being scratched by one of my grandmother’s kittens as a kid, and never owning one because of my dad’s allergy.

However, the more time that passes, the more I’m sure I may not be a cat person, but I have become a cat myself.

To understand this analogy, picture an affectionate cat. One that rubs up against your legs, sits on your keyboard at the most inopportune times and loves to be held.

Before you get the wrong idea, I don’t cuddle up against people’s legs, but I did cuddle up next to my church small group leader during our “Tarzan” movie night. I don’t sit on keyboards, but I did sit on my roommate’s lap while she finished her calculus homework. The last one I will concede to: I do love to be held.

Continue reading here

My Roommate’s Big Fat Mexican Surgery

Enjoy this excerpt from my newest blog published online by The Bundle Magazine about my roommate and her unexpected surgery in Queretaro, Mexico:

My roommate Brooke and I are pretty dorky. We watch sunsets on rooftops, have “roommate dates” at Chipotle and jam out to “No Matter Where You Are” by Us the Duo. So when her dad organized a mission trip to Mexico and invited me along, we excitedly labeled it “roommates’ first trip.”

The first few days were magical. We sang Christmas carols in Spanish, guzzled down Mexican coke and shared the gospel with elementary school kids.

About halfway through the week, Brooke’s stomach started to hurt. I went into diagnosis-mode and credited it to a lack of sleep or bad tacos. But her stomach ache persisted.

She stayed in our motel while the rest of the team performed other concerts and serenaded other church contacts. When we finished our route, we got a phone call: Brooke’s pain escalated. Our missionary friend tried calling the family doctor but it was almost midnight – no one was picking up.

Her dad told me the situation and asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital.

“Yes,” I said. No hesitation.

Continue reading here