Me? A published author?

I turned in ALL my english composition essays this past weekend! Yay! All done for a month! I even submitted an essay about my potty training adventures from last summer!Anyway, one of my essays had a comment from my professer. She asked my permission to submit one of my essays to a college literary magazine! Say what!? I was so shocked, but very honored. I'll paste the essay below! Beware, its not like the greatest essay ever, but someone thought it was good!



My Personal Black Hole

Whether it’s a Coach, Chanel, or Kavi, cotton, leather, or canvas, most women in America carry a purse with them wherever they go. According to Webster’s dictionary, a purse is a bag; a container used for carrying money and small personal items or accessories. This explanation does not do any justice to the purse; a purse is so much more than this. A purse is a vital, personal companion that acts as an essential survival kit, a representation of the owner’s life, and a portable black hole.
I always feel prepared when I tote my purse around, but it feels a bit like Mary Poppins’ bottomless bag. If ever hunger strikes at an inopportune moment, or if boredom attacks while stuck in the doctor’s office, a purse is always helpful. A purse is a survival kit for every situation. If stranded on a deserted island, a purse could keep you going for a few days. At any given time I have Tylenol, vitamins, crushed crackers, a smashed granola bar, half-empty water bottle, at least four pony-tail holders, a book, spare jar of baby food, two happy meal toys, band-aids, hand-sanitizer, enough change to buy a coke or two (if there happens to be a drink machine), and my husband’s pocket knife. These few items could help entertain, treat minor wounds, create a defense against the wild, ward off starvation and dehydration, and keep the hair out of my face. Everything I need to survive fits right into my purse.
In the movie Wizard of Oz, the fortune teller looks into Dorothy’s basket so he could adequately guess facts about her life. Every item in a purse represents an aspect of the owner’s life. Looking into a purse is like looking into a crystal ball; many secrets can be told with just a glimpse. A Jane Austin novel in a purse gives a snooper a picture of a hopeless romantic; one who likes to escape from the trials of life into an eighteenth-century adventure. Multiple medical bills show a history of illness, or a past, major medical event. An expired coupon for Oreos and a crumpled aerobics class schedule leaves an impression of a forgetful, frugal cookie-lover, who works hard to keep the Oreos away from her hips. Like it or not, a purse can give away some dirty little secrets.
It never fails that when I drop my keys into my purse, I will later spend ten minutes searching for them. My purse is a black hole, which sucks all things of importance into its depths. Contents disappear into oblivion and then mysteriously reappear in my purse. Every now and then I’ll discover things in my purse that I have no recollection of storing; apparently the purse black hole occasionally will reverse itself. The black hole is the only drawback to carrying a purse, but I continue to tote around my little black hole despite the risks.
No matter the brand or design, purses are important parts of most women’s lives. Women spend hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars on purses, but a purse is truly a priceless commodity. A purse is not just a void in which to carry around a wallet, cell phone, keys, and other essentials; it symbolizes the very essence of each individual woman. A life without a purse would be a depressing and inconvenient existence.

Squeaky Squeaker

You know when your in a quiet place, like the movies, a classroom, or church, and someone is breaking the silence with awkward sounds... ok not farts, just sounds. Well yesterday I was one of THOSE people. I was already late when I entered a silent room to take my final at JCJC. I tried tiptoeing back to the computer terminal to take the test, but my wet flip-flops squeaked very loudly. Of course I picked the computer with the creaky chair. Every breath I took the chair squeaked, so I tried not to breathe too hard. Every time I moved my eyeballs the chair squeaked, so I noisily got up to get a better chair. I could feel the death stares being thrown at me from across the room. The new chair didn't squeak, but it rolled noisily. The test supervisor just stared at me in disbelief. I attempted to give him an apologetic smile, while gesturing at the squeaker chair. He really did not look liked he cared about my chair problems. So finally I get settled at the computer to type... I never imagined a keyboard as loud as the one I got stuck with. I finished my test quickly and noisily, and left without making eye contact.

Oh what a day!

So, it's been forever since I've blogged! I started back at Jones County Junior College this summer, so I've been crazy busy! Adeline will be one next month! What?! I know, crazy! Our family just got back from the beach, which was awesome! Coen is still talking about all the fun things he did! I'll try to write a few detailed blogs on everything that has happened lately, but for now, let me tell you about the past two days!
Adeline hasn't been feeling well lately, so I made an appointment to take her to see the doctor. Yesterday we left bright and early to drop Justin off, so that we could make it to the doctor at 8:30 am...fun. I had dressed Adeline in her cutest little outfit to show the doctors we take care of her, and don't neglect her needs...like cute clothes. Well, she's had been coughing and gagging(which is why we were going to the doctor), and all of everything thing that was in her little tummy landed directly on her clothes. I had no time to go home, so I cleaned her up with baby wipes the best I could. I found a yellow onesie in the back of our car for her to wear... I didn't know why, or how long it had been back there, but I was thankful. Of course I had to explain to every one we saw that she had vomited on her cute outfit. She has an ear infection, and the drainage is making her gag. Poor Adeline was told countless time what a cute little boy she is. I drape a blanket over her car seat when we left, and off to the pharmacy. Of course Coen rips open a toy when I'm checking out. If anyone wants a light-up saber sword let me know, because Coen will NEVER play with that toy. Adeline naps when we get home while I wash the car seat cover and try to get the vomit smell out of the car. I was unsuccessful at the latter. While I am selflessly cleaning vomit, Coen is stealing all the snacks out of the fridge... and dumping them on the floor. Anyway, when naps are over I put Adeline in her car seat to go to Walmart. She pukes again. If our fridge hadn't been cleaned out by Coen I wouldn't have left the house. I mean Justin could have walked home from work at that point. After fighting the crowds in the Walmart parking lot, we actually had a pleasant shopping experience. This is not the norm. Anyway, I probably could have kept my sanity if today hadn't been so horrendous.
My day started out like any other day; I made a yummy bagel for breakfast and loaded the kids in the car to take Justin to work. We dropped him off and were halfway to Laurel when a car comes out of nowhere and almost rear ended me. I was going 65 and he was probably going 85-90. He swerved out of the way just in time, but as we cross a bridge, he starts veering my direction. I laid on my horn and screamed. I look over and see a man passed out in the driver seat. He regains consciousness in time to swerve back in his lane. He never hit the brakes, or pulled over, or stayed in his lane for more that 2 second. Of all days, I left my phone at home, or I would've called the police. He ran off the road, nearly missing trees several times. I was in tears, feeling helpless. I was out of his way, but I had no idea if he would hit someone else. I don't know if he was drunk, sick, or drowsy, but he did not belong on the road. I made it a block from my house, and a red truck, over-flowing with JUNK is turning, and some of his junk comes flowing out into the road. I swerve and miss, and made it home alive.
Coen takes it upon himself to make my day worse. He pushed his train table to the middle of the room so that he could go potty in the corner of his room. I could have forgiven this, but he proceeds to blame it on our toy poodle(we have a toy poodle now). Excuse my crudeness, but the poop was as big as the poodle.
When I was cleaning the kitchen, I put a carpet cleaner under the sink. I walked away, but when I came back the kitchen was flooded. Apparently I bumped the pipe, which caused the pipe to bust. There is now a bucket under our sink. I think this is a sign from God to remodel our kitchen. Justin does not agree.
Well an hour later Coen is screaming at Adeline, telling her to get out of the bathroom. I go to check it out and there is poop ALL OVER THE BATHROOM FLOOR! I cried. My son is potty trained! He has been for months. He sleeps in big boy undies! He does this to drive me insane.
SO Justin and I are having a date night tonight. Dinner, Movie, Sams... the perfect night. I also made a 100 on my music appreciation final! So yay!
Oh and Coen ate 2 lunchables for lunch. He didn't think I would notice I guess. He had to have scaled the fridge to reach them... Like I said, he's doing this to make me crazy!