302/365

302/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

Why am I posting this picture today? Well...


It's a little bit clearer than this one.


And this one.

And...










...these ones.

I love my mother. But when I hand her a camera, say, "It doesn't have to be good," and she says, "You're setting me up to fail," I think I need to re-evaluate.

Okay but I seriously LOVE my mother. And I love her pictures, too. Thanks for taking these, mom!!

Tonight I continued my path of trying to figure out what just happened these last three months. I was asked to speak at FUSE, the youth group at our church. Before Africa, I had to write everything down when I had to speak in front of people. I'd plan a million things to say and be finished in 10 minutes. But tonight I could have talked for two hours with much less psycho-planning. It was really fun to talk to a room full of kids, teens, and some adults about the story of my life so far. Missions is a lot about what you do when you're there. That's obvious. But it is just as much about the story and the testimony. I feel the (happy) burden to share it and I am so thankful for the opportunities. I haven't sought them out, either. Which is really cool to me. The RU4 Children blog, and tonight - I'm getting to share with people that I've never met before. That don't know the first thing about me.

I told the crowd tonight that I'm 25 years and 302 days old and I know that because I keep a blog chronicling my life every day. As soon as I said it out loud I SO wished it were a joke. I think the kids did, too.

It is really cool that I have a story to tell, though. I always prayed and asked God for a good story. I was a pretty dumb kid - that was before I knew that all good stories MUST have some sort of conflict. A story without conflict is boring. I have to remind myself that the hero normally wins, though. So, assuming my story is not a tragedy (it's not), the conflict will resolve. Just sayin'.

Thanks FUSE and Chris and Amber for letting me be a vessel tonight. It was awesome.

135/365

135/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

This is the coolest concert T ever!

It's my mom's and it's from the Elvis concert she went to. Me, Lauren, and Rachel all used to sleep in it and I remember it coming down to our knees.

I decided to wear it yesterday because Mimi wanted everyone to come to the birthday party wearing a shirt with writing on it...no real reason. Mom pulled this out of her drawer and I put it on. I'd have walked out the door with it, but one of the sleeves was almost ripped off and she wouldn't have that. So she sewed it up and I went to the party and got chocolate on it!


Because of this cake.

99/365

99/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

I learned something about stamina and pushing yourself today.

I learned that no matter how tired, hot, and spent you may feel, you can always go farther. Even when you know you KNOW you can't go any farther, you can. And what else, you can probably sprint it.

I learned that today, but I also learned something else...chicks be CRAZY.

I decided to go for a 5 mile run this morning. I averaged a 9 minute mile pace which, for a girl who couldn't beat a 10 minute mile when she was 13 (and barely run the entire thing), I was feeling pretty awesome.

The loop that we run in our neighborhood has been featuring some interesting animals, lately. Normally it's just different kinds of birds, but my parents spotted a coyote and we saw a beaver the other day! Kinda crazy.

Today I noticed these little goose babies. They must have just been born because we haven't seen them before. They are so cute and furry and cute! Every time I ran around them the momma goose squawked at me a bit. Overly protective, I get it.

Well, I decided the last time around that I really wanted a picture. I was just walkin' my run off, feeling good but certainly happy with my walking pace.

So I pulled my phone out of my arm band and took a picture:



I wasn't really satisfied. You can't zoom on the iPhone (right?), so I stepped a little closer.



Cute, right?

Momma started squawking. But she squawked before and that didn't phase me much.

So I got closer.



And that's when she started rufflin' her feathers. Then she squawked louder and then she charged.

I mean, charged. Flapped her wings, opened her beak, and ran full speed right at me.

And that's when I learned my lesson about endurance.

I turned around and sprinted the opposite direction which led me right to....the water's edge! I was trapped! I turned around and she was still after me! DANG CRAZY CHICK!

So I put my arms over my head and ran against the water, hoping she'd let me go. I ran. Fast. For awhile. And I did not feel tired at all. I just ran five miles under the hot Texas sun? What? I felt like a spring chicken!

I think I found my new training regimen. And the good thing is, when the goose ceases to be scary, there's always gnarly dogs and wild hogs! Also, sex offenders and fires. There are lots of scary things to run from!

On the other hand, there are lots of good things to run towards. Maybe if somebody just held a piece of blackberry cobbler a few feet in front of my face the entire run it'd produce the same effect.

And then I'll make millions off my new book, The Blackberry Cobbler Diet.

You heard it here first.

85/365

85/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

Nothing really matters about today except that after I worked out I decided to go outside and rake up some dead grass in our garden. That's when I realized that Gracey was gone. I could hardly believe it. It's totally not her style. There's no way she could have got out of the backyard and she'd been inside all afternoon anyway.

Right?

Well somehow, she got out the garage door and she followed her nose right out of our yard. And I didn't notice until almost two hours after she left.

Rachel, Jacob and I got in our three cars and explored the neighborhood. Completely helpless. What do you do? I talked to garbage men, I talked to strangers...I decided not to yell after the kids getting off the school bus.

I called the humane society. Rachel called the city. I posted two ads on craigslist and another on a pet finding site. We made fliers.

I didn't know what else to do so I raked the garden and I cried. And I prayed out loud. Here's what I knew: I was sad. I know that God doesn't like to see His children sad. So I figured, maybe I can appeal to His heart. I knew it could be worse, I did. But it didn't mean I wasn't just plain sad.

Then mom came home with the fliers and we ran to the store to buy tape.

My dad made it home from work in the meantime and he wanted us to pick him up. He's good at spotting animals and he has the sort of energy that makes you feel like things are going to happen. We needed that.

Plus, he freakin' loves that dog.

A few years ago we made some Christmas yard art. A big star with "unto you a Savior is born" scripture painted on it. We use a bunch of wooden stakes to hold it up and dad decided to use them in a pinch. He broke a few up and threw them in the van.

And we were off. First stop, the end of the street. We got out and started banging the stake in the ground when we hear a few barks. Not uncommon, but dad's ears perked up.

"That second one sounded like Gracey."

I wasn't so convinced. But I motioned for Rachel to get out of the car and go check.

Dad beat her to it. I didn't even see him go, but before I knew it he was at that fence. And as he tells it, first dog - no, not her. Second dog - no, not her. And then...there she is. Her face right up next to his on the other side of the fence.

"SHE'S HERE!"

And I felt one extreme emotion flip flop to the other extreme emotion.

We knocked on the door and met the nicest family ever. They were cooking burgers and were going to walk her down the street and knock on doors after dinner. They found her sniffing some bushes nearby and she came to them immediately when they called her. This guy is smart, because he held up a leash and judged by her reaction that she had an owner. He could tell that she knew what putting on a leash would mean.

We told him we'd been praying and were so thankful and he agreed that faith surpasses all circumstances.

Then he asked if we lived in the house that puts up the star every Christmas.

Guess we'll have to fix those stakes.


Dad was all too happy to share the good news.


Next stop, tracking chip and collar. This girl won't leave us again, I'll tell you that.

75/365

75/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

If you follow me on Twitter, you've already seen this picture. I didn't take it with any intention of putting it on my blog, believe me, but I was thinking about it...and I think this picture is a better uhhh snapshot of my day than the pictures of dirt in our backyard that I just took.

It won't be in my top 10 at the end of the month (check out last month's winner over on the right!) but anyway. Here's the scoop.

I decided to do my laundry this morning. Only the second time I've done my laundry since I moved home in December. I'm not dirty - just resourceful.

So I went to search for something to work-out in and the pickings were slim. First, the Where's Waldo socks. And then those neon pink shorts. I take after my dad, I guess.

Finally, that shirt. I remember the day I got that shirt. I started playing softball in third grade and I LOVED it. My dad played on a church team and for the longest time I'd tag along to his games and head straight for the playground. But one day I stayed and watched the game. And somehow, without any previous knowledge of the sport, I was enthralled.

I remember one particular game where I was sitting next to my mother, young and naive, happy and free. Mom decided it was time I grew up so she leaned over to me, pointed to the umpire behind home plate and said, "Look, Brittany, it's a Pat." Well. I didn't know what that meant. I figured the ump's name was Pat, so I asked her if the ump's name was Pat. She said, "No. 'Pat' means I don't know if its a boy or a girl."

The joke must have fell flat then, but it freakin' cracks me up now. I hope I say stupid stuff like that to my kids.

So eventually my parents let me sign up for softball. After I lost my baton and had to quit baton. I cried, but it's probably the best thing to ever happen to me. Gosh, what a DORK I would have been!

One Sunday there were some people at church selling these t-shirts, and because Christ WAS my life and everything else WAS softball and my BIGGEST dream was playing softball in the olympics (possibly another scary future I've avoided - I coulda been a Pat myself - not that there's anything wrong with that...) - I had to have one of those shirts.

At the time, my daddy gave me anything that I wanted. So he got me this shirt and I loved it. But, it stayed behind when I went to college. And it stayed behind when I moved to New York.

But today, when I was in great need, this shirt was there for me. This lovely, 17-year-old shirt. All broken in and awesome.

I also mentioned on Twitter that my hair just might be 3 days old.

But I don't think you need me to expand on that one.

52/365

52/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

Scary, isn't it?

Today I did something really weird but really fun. I demonstrated to two of my mother's classes how to make marshmallows. Why? Because I'm an expert. I made them once and watched Alton Brown make them once. So I'm by and large the best one for the job.


I told mom that I wanted to be introduced as BDubb but I don't think she was listening.


Look at this fancy mirror! I bet Rachel Ray didn't have this when she started out.


This picture scares me. What kind of people are going to sit and watch me try to avoid awkward silences? High school people, that's what kind. Scary high school people. I don't know how my mom does it.

I tried to avoid the line, "When I was in high school..." but it found its way out once or twice. Oh well.


Here's the set up. I didn't want to mess up or forget anything.

How embarrassing would that be?

Most of you know that I am very meticulous when I cook. I read and re-read the directions.

But did you know that when you're talking the entire time and trying to be engaging and witty and soooo cooooool that maybe you might forget to add some ingredients?

Okay, one ingredient.

But sometimes one ingredient doesn't really make a difference in taste.

Unless your making marshmallows and that ingredient is sugar.


Yep. All these kids watched me forget to put in the sugar and not realize it until they left.


And all THESE kids watched me forget to put in the salt and not realize it until they left.

It was stressful!!


But it was really fun. This kind fella helped me pass out samples of plain marshmallows and chocolate dipped marshmallows. Then he helped me wash all the dishes! I asked him if he'd be my husband. Then I freaked out and got all flustered and said I mean be my ASSISTANT but it was too late.

I'm engaged.

He wants to be a chef and go to the Culinary Institute in New York. So to all you New Yorkers...guess I'm comin' back!

But only on one condition.


You forgive me for never ever taking off this brilliant footwear. My boots and I, we just cannot part.


Here is the finished product. Part II. Part I went straight into the trash. Sugarless marshmallows are NOT the diet food of the future. Part II is much more fun anyway, because some of mother's smart kiddo's asked if we could put food coloring in them. They wanted to make them red and cut them into hearts like the Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland. I said, "Awesome! Let's do that!" and then I made them a green square. SIKES! I like to build them up only to tear them down.

So, all in all it was a good day. And my mom is amazing. And I'm going to stick to cooking in my own kitchen without the watchful eyes of sugar-craving teenagers.

47/365

**WARNING**

This post contains blood.

I don't really care to censor you so I didn't think twice about this picture, but just in case you're super squeamish, the picture is down below rather than up top.

About a year ago I decided to buy some rollerblades (guess where this is going). I love to rollerblade. Used to go all the time when I was younger with the kids on the block and at the roller rink down the street. We did the flying V and fidgeted during couple skate.

One time I got asked to couple skate and it sent my cousin, Chelsea, crying to the bathroom. I don't know why she liked him. All I remember is that he was really short. And um, I don't remember if I accepted but I must have because she cried in the bathroom. Sorry, Chels.

I used the rollerblades only once. The day I bought them. I skated about 1.5 miles down the street to go to church Wednesday after work. I stayed in the bike lane, but the bike lane was only a few feet away from the flying cars going down the uneven mean streets of Brooklyn. I'm fairly careless about my safety, so I didn't control my speed there and back, but I was smart enough to decide I'd wait to skate again until I had some knee pads or a helmet.

Of course, I never bought them. But the weather around here has been so amazing. I've been outside every day this week enjoying the sunny 60s and ever day I've been wanting to rollerblade. So today I did. And it was sort of a disaster.

I went to the lake trail and it was completely empty and beautiful. No fast cars. No people to maneuver around. I went one mile around and was feeling pretty good and then I hit a puddle and I barely fell. One knee to the pavement and two fingers in the grass. It burned a little but I just really wanted to keep going. So I did. And then I looked down and was a little surprised by the red and by...the chunkiness going on. It looked a little chunky. I didn't think chunks came out of your knees. But I really wanted to keep going.

I actually was feeling pretty good. I can't remember the last time I flat out scraped my knee. It was sort of awesome. I think battle wounds are stories. A person without a scar must be coward and a bore. They must have never rollerbladed by themselves around a man-made lake.

But then I ran my hand along a wooden post and it was kind of funny but not really. I looked down at the chunk and I figured maybe I should go home. So I reached for my keys, which were in my bra, because where else are you going to put them? And low and behold, gone. Really not funny. You can't exactly get on your hands and knees with rollerblades on and a chunky knee. Where I fell was right next to where the water flows into the lake. I really didn't want to go in there.

So I started skating around again, really slowly, all adrenaline gone, so my knee was starting to throb. Thankfully, I found them pretty much right away. In the grass near my fall.

The neighborhood dogs barked (felt like laughing) as I struggled outta there defeated. Driving back, my knee started to throb but all I could think about...was taking a picture...and blogging about it. Who wouldn't want to see my bloody knee? So I took the picture. Then I cleaned it with water and peroxide and I got myself some ice cream. Yep. I'm reverting back to my childhood. Feels good.

47/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

38/365

38/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

I like this. I think it's cool and beach-y. I made the whole thing for $2, which I spent on twine and white spray paint.

But everyone else in the house?

"Cool...what is it?"

"Is that a paper bag?"

"Cool."

"Who is that? Jesse or Joel?"
My dad really said that. Jesse and Joel are my tall, full grown male cousins. He didn't have his glasses on.

But I really like this thing I put on my wall. Then again...I also painted my entire room spearmint gum green with navy trim in high school and I liked that, too.

Let's take a closer look.

Isn't it beautiful? This is a card that my Brooklyn forever and ever roommate, Kate, gave me. She is very classy and she is crazy about art. And horses. And kids and dancing and music. And books. The world around her just moves her. She is constantly inspired by it.

Sarah Kim gave me this card. She has a thing for Monet. Like that girl in 10 Things I Hate About you who was "involved" with Will Shakespeare? I imagine Sarah has moments like that with Monet.

This is the inside of that card. This represents one of my most favorite New York moments: Dinner with Sarah Kim at Serendipity and she hands me this card and says "I'm going to read it to you right now out loud," and she did. And it was AMAZING and I loved that moment. Sarah Kim...I don't want to talk about it. Come to Texas.

And this.

Her.

My aunt, Monica, sent me this card when I was a freshman in college. It struck me. I wanted, and still do, to be her. Look at her!

I have made up many stories for her. I won't share them all, but she just looks so happy and so completely at peace. And...okay a little bit Jane Austen-ish. I can't help it. I project Jane Austen on to everything.

For some reason, I only have this side of the card. But it's a great side. All five kids (not so much anymore) signed it in their own interesting way. Monica, this card made my day back then and it still makes me so happy every time I see it.

If I ever find myself in a field, with a flower, and a house in the background, and I'm incandescently happy (movie? er...book?), don't be surprised if I re-create this moment.

37/365

37/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

BOY OH BOY am I cutting it close today! Right now it's 11:13 PM. It'll be later than that when this post goes up.

After the laziest day ever yesterday (anyone who follows my Twitter feed can attest - I don't think I've ever been on that site so much), today was a complete turn around.

I woke up wanting only to enjoy IHOP's free pancake day with my friends Shelbye and Amy. But I knew that it couldn't happen because there were busy and I was kinda busy.

So I put on some clothes, braided my hair, hugged my dog and ran out the door into the COLD and mildly snowy (not really) morning to go babysit a sweet baby for a few hours. OH and I also made some coffee and fried an egg. That's for Misti. Then I was going to come home and work out and work on some cookies. But that didn't happen because I ended up babysitting longer which was wonderful! I didn't mind it at all. Such a sweet baby.

I got home just a little later than expected and plugged in my dead phone and had a message from Shelbye, desperate for a guitar player for the youth worship service tomorrow night.

By the way, three precious people I know and/or am acquainted with and/or am related to are in the hospital tonight. This is spastic, but it's related. Please say a prayer.

So I packed up my guitar, made a banana, blueberry, almond, vanilla soy smoothie (rushing - I threw in a bunch of random stuff). And I ate a few pickle slices. I don't know.

Then went to church and we practiced and then AMY walked through the door and I was so happily surprised to see her and her plans got cancelled and David, our drummer/pianist/guitarist/virtuoso/genius was already GOING to get PANCAKES with our friend Joe, so we went after practice and then ZOE and her friend showed up! And Zoe admitted that she reads my blog (they are coming out of the wood work - it's okay, water's fine!) HI ZOE!!

But IHOP was a disaster because our waitress was terrible and didn't realize she had 7 ravenously hungry and cheap people wanting to eat free food with a side of chewy eggs (or an entire other meal if you're David) and we WOULD NOT STAND for waiting for our food for over an hour.

So even though our hunger got the best of us at times, we still laughed and had fun, and eventually ate and parted ways in the cold and WHAT DO YOU KNOW I got the one thing that I wanted today! PLUS extra amazing people.

And then I came home. And my poor dog had to wait on me while I watched Lost. My dad recorded it. GO DAD.

But look at this little thing. Sitting on my bed. Willing me to put down the camera and make up for all of today's lost time.

So I leave my super-spastic non-edited blog to you because I.....



have somewhere to be.

33/365

33/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

In the process of cleaning the room I spent years 14-18 in, I've unearthed quite a few interesting things. A lot of junk, too. But I think I'm just about finished going through it all. I took a huge bag to Goodwill this morning (goodbye, Belmont freshman t-shirts and old text books!) and I've got a ton of things to recycle. Cleaning my room is helping the world. Leonardo DiCaprio would be proud.

Before I started cleaning, mom told me not to give away this basket. It's one of those things that was always there, but I didn't really know why or where it came from.

Turns out her brother and his wife - my uncle and aunt - Victor and Debbie, sent this potted-plant-filled-porcelain basket to the hospital the day I was born. About 25 years and 33 days ago. Somehow, I never knew that.

Mom told me that she really loved this basket. She thought it was really beautiful. Now that I know some young moms and and within that age range myself, I can understand how much a gift like this would mean. And when I heard her talk about it, I could imagine the joy that must have been transposed to every little thing around her after having a little girl. I think this basket still holds a little bit of that joy.

It really has nothing to do with me, but more with my mother's own journey from Oklahoma girl to Texas wife and mother.

I have some other things that I'm excited to share over the next few days. I guess before you can move forward, you have to know where you came from. I'm fusing who I was with who I am...and I'm excited about who I'm going to be.

18/365

18/365, originally uploaded by britrosewhite.

When I was a kid I got a Kermit the Frog toy piano for Christmas. It was small - probably the length of my forearm. It's one of the only Christmas presents I remember from my first childhood (I am currently living my second). It had one of those buttons that played pre-recorded music. I vividly remember sitting at the kitchen table, pressing the button without knowing it while I banged on the tiny keys, and BELIEVING that I was making that music.

I guess I thought I was a genius, but really I was just stupid.

Anyway, once I realized that I was not making that music with my brain and my fingers, I decided that I wanted to be able to. And really, I'm not quite sure I could do that even now, but whatever. That's beside the point.

Fast forward a few years. I was between the ages of young and 8. It was my birthday and I had a big box. Inside that big box was a full-sized keyboard. I cried.

Fast forward some more years to Christmas and I get a guitar tuner in my stocking. My parents didn't think it would give away the fact that the gift in that huge bag next to the tree was a guitar.

And finally, another Christmas. Christmas Eve, maybe. I took a shower. I put on a green sweatshirt and bright pink shorts. I blow dried my hair. And my parents told me to come into the living room. And there was...my uncle Robert! I love my uncle Robert for many reasons. This time I loved him because he helped wheel my very large Christmas gift into it's rightful spot in our living room.

Oh, how I love this piano. I dream about it when I'm far away from it. And even though I don't know if we have ever tuned it, that's okay. I'm sure we will one day. It has caused me much frustration because I can never quite figure it out, but it's also been a great source of joy. And it's helped me to know myself better.

I'm looking forward to next Christmas...really, deep in my heart, I always wanted to be a chick drummer.