I don't want to sound spoiled. So as a preface: I am VERY thankful and blessed to be able to use this kind of technology to keep in touch with friends, family, and mostly Chris when I have to be living two hours away from him at this moment. Seriously..I always get that whole "well at least you dont have to write letters back and forth" comment from people. But for me...well..besides that fact that I DO still write letters....I can appreciate both sides of the story. See, no matter how wonderful it is to be able to talk AND see the person youre talking to....it's extremely more painful than lets say..a letter, phone call, or even a text. Because then when faces like this:
happen, you don't get that gut wrenching horrible feeling in your stomach knowing that there is nothing you can do at that moment to ease the stress of being away from someone you love. I also don't mean to say that I wish he would just be perfectly fine and only express sadness when i'm not staring at him through the screen. Seeing this reaffirms the fact that it is obviously painful to be away from each other....and for that I am thankful to you, Skype. I guess what i'm trying to say..is thankyou, and, also, you make me extremely unnecessarily sad regarding this already sad situation. Chris Tate, when you look this way..there is nothing that I want more than to jump through the screen and hug you. And knowing that I can't is not a fun feeling at all. I MISS YOU. This on the other hand:

that's a bit better. ;) Doesn't completely cut it..but what can ya do. (5 days!!! <3) So, in conclusion...I love and hate you, modern technology. You are oh so convenient and so very torturous at the exact same time. And yes, I really do enjoy writing letters..and I hope that I will continue to do so forever. Long live ink and parchment.

is hilarious. I was at work, and needed a copy of my birth certificate. I called him and asked if he would go to the safe where my mom keeps all that good stuff, and he starts looking through it to find it. He then pauses and says.."Do you want the good news or the bad news..?" I said something along the lines of "Dad..what." and he says, "Well, I found your birth certificate.......but it says that the father is Juan Miguel Rodriquez the fourth. I just noticed it. I'm going to have to have a stern talking to your mother when she gets out of the shower." I cracked up..wondering how he comes up with these things right off the top of his head.

But wait..the story goes on...
He comes to work, document in hand..and tells me to take a look at it. He had scanned a copy (like I asked) but blocked out his name..and for real put "Juan Miguel Rodriquez el Quatro" in place of the fathers name space.......

Don't worry..he actually did give me a real copy as well. Oh goodness..what a crazy man he is.

I've told this story a million times. But upon stumbling upon my lovely co-counselor from last summer's blog...and stalking almost every aspect of it, I just feel the need to express my love for Anna Harrison. So the story lives on:

This past summer, one of the most hyped up moments of Staff Week at camp...is finding out who your co-counselor is. This is a huge deal. I mean HUGE. This person, like it or not, will be living with you about 3 feet away (or below if you choose the bunkage route) with 8 crazy little girls for 3 months. Count it. Three. To put it plainly; if you don't like them......then your camp experience=much different than if you did like them.

Now...to clarify something...it's impossible to not 'like' somebody that works at this camp. The personalities/faiths/nature of everyone hired there just kinda works, if you know what I mean. So in terms of "liking" I really mean...if you just "click."

So, the day came. Long story short..I found my cabin with my face and my co-counselors face slapped on the outside of the porch. Well, not literally our faces. Polaroids of course. And there she was. Cute little Anna Harrison...who somehow I never really talked to during staff week (not intentionally..its a big group of ladies). We move in..and the first impression? AMAZING. No i'm just kidding..I was scared to death. She seemed great. nice. adorable. But....she was organizing her camp things as if there was going to be an inspection for the most organized cabin. Oh, and she brought about a bajillion things that I didn't even think to pack. Main point=I got done unpacking (unpacking=randomly placing items where I felt they might should be placed..unstrategically) in about 20 minutes. She got done unpacking (unpacking=strategically and thoughtfully placing each item according to its class and nature) in about an hour. This worried me..(quite obviously too. I sat indian style on my bed watching her as she caringly put away her many things) it didn't worry me because I thought she was crazy. It worried me because I was afraid she would be upset at my 'different' living style.

This was day one. Day two..little bit tense waking up in the same cabin alone..Day three...in LOVE with her. Day four five six seven eight nine...and ninety=RIDICULOUSLY in love with her. Proves how amazing God is. We didn't have that much in common besides our love for the outdoors and camp and most importantly, God..but we learned from each other, cried together, laughed together..and were counselors to many girls..together. I can honestly say that she was one of the best parts of camp. I love her.