The Ones That Matter

I should be working on a project right now . . . but I'm watching the fifth season of One Tree Hill and thinking about my life instead.

There are very few people in your life who will always be there. Very few people in your life who you can be your true self with and they love you because of your idiosyncrasies . . . not in spite of them. Very few people in your life who hurt when you hurt, love when you love, and laugh when you act like a total nerd.

I am lucky enough to have two people in my life who are exactly that. Most people are lucky if they find just one person . . . but I have two . . . and it will be three when I find the one I will spend the rest of my life with (he's gotta be out there somewhere, right?)

But these two people . . . we could not talk for days or even weeks and yet somehow they always know when I need them . . . they somehow always know.

I don't think these two people know how special they are to me . . . and how much they have changed my life . . . and how much I need them (even though I tend to push people away when I need them most).

I got this text tonight:
"Knowing when you're not doing well isn't always a good thing because even though you don't want to talk (which is cool) I can't help but mentally visualize you upset and not happy. And that smile. Gosh I miss that smile! And from the sound of things I don't think you've smiled a whole lot lately. It just sucks knowing I can't actually be there to hold you and tell you everything's going to be alright."

This person has a lot of things to figure out in his own life . . . and yet all that matters to him is my happiness. He is one of the best people I have ever met. Actually . . . that's a lie. He is THE best person I have ever met. He is the most fantastic friend someone could ever ask for. Last year I told him he was my best friend . . . and that is still true. He's my brother. My best friend. My confidant. My comedian. And I just love the kid. I don't know what I would do without him.

Then, this morning I got this posted on my wall on Facebook:
"A sucky haiku:

Jake's nub is on me.
Coffee exams badger yeah!
I see you in weeks."

We've known each other for six and a half years. We haven't been best friends the whole time . . . heck, for about five of those months we weren't friends at all (and those five months were torture without her). She knows me like nobody else and half the time we are probably the same person.  We have conversations in "bear." We run around with towels tied around our necks as capes. We have iCarly marathons. We do spontaneous things that some people only ponder doing . . . and this was all just the summer before our junior year of college. When we were in high school we were the girls people always looked at and thought "Wow, they're strange." Well . . . the only thing that has changed about that is that we are a few years older. She is also an amazing writer. I know she doesn't want to admit it most of the time . . . and I know having people read her novels scares the crap out of her . . . but the day that I can go into Barnes and Noble and buy every copy of her book that is on the shelf will be one of the best days of my life.  She is also one of the strongest people I have ever met . . . and she makes me want to be a stronger person. She has had more happen to her in her almost twenty-one years of life than most people have in a lifetime . . . and I'm jealous of how she handles it with so much grace and a smile on her beautiful face. She has a lot of absolutely wonderful things in her life right now and she deserves all of it. And I am so grateful to still have her in my life after all this time and after everything we have been through.

God sent me these two people for a reason and I thank him everyday for bringing them into my life.

I could go on and on about the effect they have had on my life . . . but I'll leave you with this . . . 

The people you have in your life . . . do they make you want to be a better person? Do you thank God everyday for sending them to you? Can you imagine your life without them? 

Would you be a lesser person without them? 

I know I would be.

Just A Word

When we were in high school we often had a difficult time seeing beyond the reality of those four years. All our problems seemed never-ending and horrid.  Our friends were going to be around for a lifetime. And we couldn't see how much things would change after we left.

Now that we are in college . . . we may be older, but the same song is playing.  At times it is difficult for us to see past these four years. Past this campus. Past the classes and the parties and the relationships. But what happens when we leave? Some of us will continue our educations. Some of us will scatter anywhere we can find a job.

But we will all leave eventually. We will start our adult lives. We will start our careers. Get married. Have kids. And everything that happened in college (and high school) will only be a faint memory. None of it will matter. In the grand scheme of things . . . these four years will be a blip.

When all is said and done . . . these four years will only be a word . . .  in a line . . . of a song. The word still makes the song what it is . . . but there is SO much more to it.

So, the next time you start to stress over you life or worry about your relationships or torture yourself with pettiness . . . think about your song and if you are going to let that word take over the meaning or if you are going to look forward to what's to come.

He has taken me by the hand

It is amazing how the Lord works in our lives sometimes.  He has always been very obvious about what he wants me to do.

Lately, I have had the chance to minister to a friend in need.  I am not the most knowledgable person about the Bible and theology and such . . . but somehow He gave me the wisdom and the right words to say to my friend; put the thoughts in my mind that allowed me to tell her exactly what she needed to hear at exactly the right time.

I've also been praying about the path the Lord wants me to take in my relationships with people.  He has been sending me signs left and right, but I chose to ignore them because I liked the security blanket I possessed.  I ignored the insecurities and anxieties and uncertainites . . . but I could only hide from these for so long.  On Sunday, a friend and I went to church and in Sunday School the teacher prayed that the Lord would guide me.  That night I began to get feelings I couldn't ignore.  Feelings that something wasn't right and that I needed to make a change in my life.  It had become very clear to me what had to be done.

After everything is said and done, I am happy with my life and the people in it.  I am happy with the life decisions I am making and the role the Lord is taking in making those decisions.

I have given my life to him and that includes all my worries and problems, because I know he is there for me.  He has taken me by the hand and is guiding me through life just as a father guides his daughter through a crowd.

I feel safe in his grasp.

He is all the security I need.

He fills me with his love.

He is the only one I need.

How Do You Know?

How do you know if you are making the right decisions in your life?

Sometimes things just don't feel right but that could be for one of two reasons.
1. It really isn't right, or
2. It is right, it's just uncomfortable for you.

But, how can we ever tell the difference between the two?

Sometimes we trick ourselves into thinking the second one . . . just so we can hide from the possibility of getting hurt.  We don't want to ask the hard questions because we are afraid of what the answer might be. We just settle because we don't think we can find anything better.  But by doing that we are simply prolonging the inevitable and keeping at the bay the good that is to come.

But what happens if the feelings you are having are truly unwarranted? And yet in order to protect yourself you simply just stop. Stop your relationships. Stop your friendships. Just stop trying. Would that be in vain? Would you later regret the decision only to find out there is nothing you can do to fix it?

What if by confronting the reality . . . the truth . . . it makes things better? If by laying all your cards out on the table all the doubt and the anxiety can be cleared away?

So, with all these possibilities . . . how can you tell if you are making the right decision?

Productivity & Ignorance

I miss being productive.

I miss that feeling of accomplishment when I complete something and am able to cross it off my to-do list for the week in my planner.

Finishing a book is great.  Getting all the prep work and painting done at the job site is fantastic.  But neither of those things quite add up to the feeling I get when my day is chalk full of things to do and one by one I do what I have to do, go where I need to go, and see who I need to see.

To most people, while I am at school, I must seem like one of the busiest people alive. Shooting from place to place, always busy and out of breath, and constantly having something to do.  Many people look forward to summer vacation as a time where they can slow down, not have anything to do, and just relax . . . but me?  I thrive in chaos.  I can't stand to be idle for too long.

This is one of the many reasons I am looking forward to going back to school.  Organizing my apartment.  Getting everything ready to start classes.  Going back to work.  And of course, having my friends just a short walk away from my door.

I'm sure you probably think I'm crazy.  Who is this girl who wants her vacation to end and is looking forward to being thrown into the insanity that is 20 credit hours, approximately 4 field experiences, a part time job, Teaching Fellows obligations, and of course, friend-time?  I can't explain it.  I love to be busy and I do my best work the more busy I am.  The productivity will come again very soon.  And soon enough I will be stressing out, not sleeping, forgetting to eat, and running around like a chicken with its head cut off. And the strange part? I CAN'T WAIT!!

There is one thing, though, that I could never miss.  What is it you ask?

Ignorance.

This past weekend as part of my Teaching Fellows scholarship I was required to attend Junior Conference.  This is a weekend where all the rising junior teaching fellows from across the state get together at a university (this year it was Elon) and attend lectures and workshops aimed at making them better-rounded and more successful teachers.  One of the workshops I signed up for was named "Student Disabilities: Teaching Students to Understand Handicaps."

We had done disability simulations at school where we were able to see how people with different disabilities felt, but I was still interested in seeing what the presenter had to say.  First of all, we spent the first seven minutes of the session watching the video for Lady Gaga's "Born This Way." I love Lady Gaga as much as the next person, but this video did absolutely nothing to supplement what we were supposed to be learning about.  Then, the presenter proceeded to find a video of Weird Al Yankovich parodying "Born This Way" and she seemed more committed to making sure the video was working than actually wanting to give us information that would make us better teachers.

I could have dealt with all that if it hadn't been for the fact that the presenter was patronizing the use of political correctness when it comes to people with disabilities, NEVER used person-first language when referring to people with disabilities, and was completely ignorant when it came to asking a boy in the session about his Tourette's.

Let me explain.

Patronizing the use of political correctness when it comes to people with disabilities is pretty self explanatory. (not using the word "retard" to label someone with an intellectual disability. not using the word handicapped)

Person-first language is best demonstrated by an example.  Instead of saying "a Down's boy" you would say "a boy with Down's."  This phrasing implies that a person with a disability is not defined by the label they possess.   That the label doesn't make them who they are.  That they are simply a person who has to work a bit harder for something than everyone else.

A boy in the session came forward with the fact that he has Tourette's syndrome. Wikipedia tells us that Tourette's syndrome is an inherited neuropsychiatric disorder with onset in childhood, characterized by multiple physical (motor) tics and at least one vocal (phonic) tic.  The first question out of her mouth was asking him if he curses.  How ignorant does someone have to be?  Especially someone who is teaching a seminar on helping our students understand other children with disabilities.  Only 5% of people with Tourette's syndrome actually curse as one of their vocal tics . . . but you wouldn't know that if you only got your information from movies that portray people with Tourette's in a comedic way.  She should have asked him if he would be comfortable sharing with everyone how his Tourette's represents itself instead of being so blunt in her questioning.

This may not seem like a big deal to most people, but this is my passion.  A fellow special education major and myself exchanged glances throughout the entire session and when it was over, we could not believe what had just happened right before us.  That there was someone so incredibly ignorant teaching others to understand those with disabilities.  Words cannot explain how insulted  I felt by her words . . . and I don't even have a disability.

I can try to articulate how this made me feel the best I can . . . but some things simply can't be put into words.  Just picture someone's face with them slack-jawed in complete and utter shock and you will get only a smidge of how I actually felt during that 75 minute session.

So here you go folks.  Here I am missing productivity and ranting about ignorance.

Such a happy post, huh?

Mensonges

In French, "mensonges" means "lies."

Dictionary.com defines "lie" as:
–noun

1.

a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; anintentional untruth; a falsehood.

2.

something intended or serving to convey a false impression;imposture: His flashy car was a lie that deceived no one.

3.

an inaccurate or false statement.

For some reason I have been thinking about lies and lying lately.  We all do it . . . whether we mean to or not.  A lie could even be withholding a particularly important piece of information.  But most of the time?  It is completely on purpose.  We tell ourselves that we do it just protect the other person from pain or anxiety . . . but really? Our reasons are much more selfish.  We lie because it is the easy thing for us to do.  We lie to protect ourselves.  We lie so that the person we are lying to will still approve of us or not become angry with us.

The most upsetting part about being lied to is most often not the lie itself . . . it is the fact that the person lying to us doesn't think we are worth the truth.  They don't think we are deserving enough in their eyes to be told the truth.

**This is where I would make a joke about the French getting it right when it comes to their word for "lies:" "MENsonges.  But that would be a lie . . . Women lie just as much as men do.  The French could have easily made their word "WOMENsonges." You would think I would be biased and say that all men are liars and cheats . . . but I have seen women do the exact same things men are accused of.**

It becomes scary for us when someone we love and trust lies to us . . . betrays us . . . shows a side of themselves we never thought could exist.

Then what starts happening in our brains (and our hearts)?

Everything is turned upside down and mish-moshed every which way.  If someone we trusted completely could lie to us . . . then anyone can . . . so how can we know who to trust and who to keep at an arm's length?

It reminds me of a lyric in a Vanessa Carlton song called Heroes and Thieves.  It says:

I'm blinded by these

Heroes and thieves at my door

And I can't seem to tell them apart anymore

How do we separate the heroes in our lives from the thieves? How do we tell who is here to help us and who is here to hurt?  

The answer?

We can't. 

But what can we do?

Take comfort in the Lord.

Take comfort in this:

Shmorgisbord!

Today was one of those never-ending days . . . kind of like The Neverending Story . . . except not.

The day started with my dog jumping on me 20 minutes before my alarm was set to go off. There are two things that should be mentioned here:

1. When my dog jumped on me I was dreaming and in my dream a strange animal was jumping on me and pushing on my bladder. I instantly awake to the bear with the crazy eyes looking right at me . . . ready to play . . . I, however, was DEFINITELY not in the mood to play.
2. Waking up moments before your alarm goes off is one of the most frustrating things EVER! Then, all you can think about is how nice it would have been to have those extra few minutes only to be jolted awake by your favorite song or preset melody of annoyingness. I, for one, always make sure I don't enjoy my wake up song TOO much because I am bound to despise it eventually after it continues to disturb my slumber morning after morning considering sleep is one of my favorite things . . . along with Mcdonalds mango pineapple smoothie (Mcdonalds: you can send the check to my house or give me a lifetime supply of the aforementioned smoothie; either will do) and my planner that keeps me sane and my OCD in check.

After I finally dragged myself out of bed I had to quickly make myself some breakfast (it was an egg and cheese bagel . . . that I made myself . . . not one of those pooptastic frozen things) because my mom and I were going to work with my dad to help him paint and such at the job site.  I would say that going to do manual labor was a nice change from hanging out with my friends, reading, and spending time with my puppy . . . but that just isn't the truth.  I am by no means a primadonna or a sissy-priss . . . but I believe the Lord gave me intelligence so I could get around cleaning door frames and priming walls.  Needless to say, I got the job done. What got me through it? The almighty dollar.  I need money to buy a new computer so I will do just about anything at this point so that I can lay the old lady I am currently typing on to rest.  It also really didn't help that one of the guys on the crew working outside the house used the bathroom 3 TIMES over the course of the day while his colleagues must have used nature as their toilet (as men are so conveniently able to do).  Every time he came in the house my mom would make a comment on how he has the hots for me.  OF COURSE, MOM! What guy wouldn't want to get at this? I mean let's get real: every guy is looking for a girl who rolled out of bed and throws a hat on, no makeup, and of course we can't forget the sweet sweet smell of sweat! I know that if I were a guy, that is exactly the type of girl I would go after. I hope I have made it blatantly obvious that sarcasm was all up in THAT!

After working through the day my mom and I came home, I fed the pup (who had come with us to the job site and was being a complete maniac the entire time), and took a shower. Oh, an awesome shower . . . but only after I documented the poofball that was my hair after my mom had french-braided it the night before so it wouldn't get in my way working today:

After my shower my mom said she wanted to show me some stuff that I might be interested in having.  She brought out her stash of old jewelry and keepsakes.  I got a lot of amazing things (like the original wedding band from when my parents got married over 35 years ago . . . they have new ones, don't worry).  But, there are two things I would like to share with you! The first is a ring that is actually made of ivory! If you live under a rock you should know that ivory (which comes from an elephant's tusk) is illegal to harvest now.  Unfortunately the ring is too big for my teeny tiny fingers, but I plan to find a chain for it.  The ring belonged to my dad a really long time ago . . . so it is kind of like carrying him with me wherever I go.

The second is one of the coolest pendants I have ever seen.  I'm not sure exactly what it is yet, but I know when I ask my dad about it there will be a story for me to hear. I plan on also finding a chain for this also.

I love it when my mom breaks out all the old stuff she has and tells me stories.

Also, yesterday I spent almost the entire day reading and eventually finishing The Hunger Games.  I had heard they were making a movie out of the book, but I had never heard of it before.  This is one of those books you get so into you feel like you are actually there with the characters . . . feeling what they are feeling . . . being happy when they are happy . . . sad when they are sad . . . and even wishing you could find someone like Peeta (read it and you will know what I mean). I couldn't be happier about reading this book and can't wait to read the second part of the trilogy, called Catching Fire.

My night has ended by watching Pretty Little Liars (which is getting more and more suspenseful by the moment) and writing this blog. I shall now do some reading in a book I'm trying out called Leftovers. I say that I'm trying it out because I am unsure as to if it is actually worth reading or if I should move on to the other books on my list like Jodi Picoult's Handle with Care, Water for Elephants, and the four books in the Lord of the Rings set.

The dilemmas in my life are life or death aren't they?

I leave you with this thought:
Do you feel a sense of accomplishment when you pick off a piece of paint that is on your skin from the day's activities? These are the things that haunt me!

Perspective

As I sit here watching Friends and type this on my iPod touch I am getting another one of my overwhelming feelings to write. Is it possible to simultaneously have so much going on in your head and also have nothing going on? Or maybe it's that I have a lot going on in my head, but none if it really matters. It's like having a conversation with one of the most superficial people in the world: words are coming out, but they aren't really saying anything. I'm having all these thoughts, but I'm not really thinking anything.

All that is circling around those perfectly smooshy lobes is completely out of my control and by simply worrying about it or thinking about it . . . I'm only hurting myself.

It seems that every thought I have about returning to Wilmington in August is accompanied by a feeling of anxiety. Despite the fact that I have amazing friends and a dope apartment waiting for me there . . . I can't shake this feeling. I should be flailing my arms around in excitement at the thought of returning to my favorite place on the planet (so far) . . . And there are times when I do get excited to be back and to show off my new found confidence . . . but there is always that pit in my stomach that just doesn't seem to go away. I remember how I felt last summer . . . barely being able to contain myself at the thought of going back. I would say that I wish I could be that girl again . . . but that would be a lie. If I were to be that girl again, yes, I would be excited about going back, but I would also be without this past year of growing experiences. Another word for it? Naive.

When I think about it . . . I would take this past year of growth along with the anxiety any day. Why? Because the anxiety will go away. I will remember what made me so crazy about Wilmington. My life will just change again. Bad memories will fade. Good memories will resonate. And all will be as God has planned it.

I guess we just have to take the good with the bad.

Or maybe take the growing up with the bad.

Its all about perspective.

Kelly Maultsby!

 
I'm not exactly sure why, but I love yelling Kelly's full name at the top of my lungs in a British accent . . . don't question my lifestyle.

I love her and all her boy problems!!

I met Kelly my freshman year of college through my friend Lindsey (who I am living with next year).  We were kind of friends . . . but the kind of friends who only go out together on Friday and Saturday nights.  Then, at the beginning of sophomore year Kelly set me up with one of her really good friends. We started dating and consequently I starting hanging out with Kelly more and we became much better friends.  Although the relationship ended, my friendship with Kelly remains and I couldn't be happier.

I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, and I truly think that I was in that short-lived relationship with the boy so that I could develop my friendship with Kelly.

We have so much fun when we are together . . . even if we are trapped in the mountains doing puzzles. Kelly is one of those people who isn't afraid to act stupid with me . . . or puzzle with me over spring break. Yeah, we are just that cool.

If it weren't for Kelly my taste in music would not be nearly as good as it is now . . . and I am extremely jealous that she is going to Bonaroo this summer to see an amazing assortment of kickass bands. I know she is super stoked . . . AS SHE SHOULD BE.

Kelly and I have just recently discovered our taste in boys is almost EERILY similar. For instance, Kelly, myself and all our girlfriends went out to dinner at Indochine for a going away for the summer get together and as were waiting outside for our table to be ready I turn to Kelly and say, "Ok, the guy . . . " She stopped me there and just said, "I know." She knew exactly who I was talking about (and there were a lot of guys around) because she had been looking at him too. I got a kick out of that . . . and it was a bit freaky (but in a good way).

Kelly also has the most awesome style. She wears things that I could never in a million years pull off . . . and she does it well. I will see something in a store and think its so cute and be jealous because it is so Kelly and sooooo not Keslie.

Although I could probably say much more, I will leave it at that.

Kelly and I never cease to have fun and act like retards . . . but also have our serious talks and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Chapter Books

I know I feel like writing right now . . . I've actually had the urge for a couple days . . . I'm just unsure of what to write about. I guess I'll just let it flow and see what comes out (that's what she said).

I was looking at my blog and my last post was be babbling about pretty much nothing and the one before it I posted in December 2010 when I was in this blissfully happy state where I felt like my life was perfect and nothing could go wrong . . . too bad that didn't last very long. I'm not saying my life changing was a bad thing . . . well maybe temporarily it was . . . but overall I am a better person because of it. A more wise person. That much closer to being a grown up. There are certain firsts we all have to go through, so at least I've gotten a couple more over with so I can move on with my life.

I keep looking at my puppy, Kodi, and thinking about how much bigger and more grown upy he has gotten since I saw him over my easter break from school.  When I was home for easter break I could not even sit down to put my shoes on without him being all over me and he was constantly on the move.  Believe me, he is still one crazy pup, but he has definitely matured over the past month or so.

Then I think about me.  How much I have changed from the time I graduated high school, pretty much exactly two years ago.  If I had only known then what a different person I would be as I head into my junior year of college.  It is still shocking to see that in writing. A JUNIOR IN COLLEGE?! I am halfway through my undergraduate career? When you think about your life plan you say, "I will graduate high school, then go to college, find a job, get married, have kids, and be happy." We say we will "go to college" like it isn't a big deal . . . but as we graduate high school we never think about how much growing up we actually do from the time we start our freshman year at the age of 18 to the end of our senior year at the age of 21.  You think, "It's only four years . . . " But in that four years you have experiences (good and bad) that will change you forever. You have relationships (good and bad) that will change you forever. It seems you learn more in those four years outside the classroom or the lecture hall that you pay thousands a dollars a year for . . . much of the learning and growing you do has absolutely nothing to do with your major, or you gpa, your community involvement, or the awards you win . . . and everything to do with the paths you choose.

If I have changed THIS much and experienced THIS much in my first half of college . . . I can only imagine what God has in store for me in the second half.

I'm very excited to see what He has in store for me in this next chapter of my life . . . because God knows it's about time I end that last (horrible) chapter that was drug out much longer than it should've been (kind of like how Hawthorne writes his sentences in the Scarlet Letter) and start a new one. So far the chapter is VERY eventful . . . and this is only the beginning.

So here's a question: How is your book looking? Is it about that time you end one chapter and start another one?

Yeah . . . I don't know . . .

So . . . I'm sitting here at work (aka the place I owe my BITCHIN' grades to) for the second time today.  Of course my coughing . . . well, hacking like a pack-a-day smoker, and my sniffles, like there are a million tiny people smooshed together like sardines (but only the good smelling ones . . . if they exist) isn't distracting all the students AT ALL from taking the tests I am supposed to be proctoring.  On the up side: I don't sound like a boy going through puberty anymore!! Woohoo! I had thought of a much more vulgar excuse for my lack of voice . . . but I don't think my oh so classy blog is quite ready for it yet.

I know I SHOULD be studying for the two psychology tests I have on Tuesday . . . but that's like three days away! I would not be a real college student if I started studying for them now.  A college student starting to study for a test before the night before is the equivalent of 73 green bunny rabbits stampeding the White House . . . (aka nevaaa gonna happen). 

My life is not all that interesting right now . . . but that's not saying I haven't perfected the art of writing about nothing. Actually, now that I think about it, my life could be viewed as interesting with lots of things going on . . . just things that I don't necessarily feel comfortable sharing with anyone who has access to the Internet. So you will just have to either be my frienddddd OR live you life knowing that you have NO IDEA what is really going on in my life . . .  this is where you (world) realize the hole that is in your life and decide you can't live without me.

I am moving back home for the summer though! Woooooooo . . . ooo . . . ooo . . . A few months ago I would've groaned at the thought of spending another three months in Charlotte when I could be in Wilmington . . . but much in my life has changed AND I have changed a lot in the past three months and I couldn't be happier about going home. So my dad and MY PUPPY are coming down on Tuesday (or Wednesday) to help me move out of my suite. I would say that I am going to miss my suite . . . but I'm kinda not going to. Too many memories I DON'T want to remember, ya knoooowwwwwwww.

But anywayssss : ) all that is on my mind right now is: "HERE'S HOPIN'!!!!"

Hope you all are having a day that would knock the purple and yellow striped socks off any stray chinchilla!!!

Changes

This time last year I was a completely different person. 

This time last year I was making promises to myself and to those around me that I did not keep.

This time last year I had become a person I did not even like to look at in the mirror.

This time last year I was the person I thought I would never become.

This time last year . . . I was someone I could barely recognize.

The changes I promised to make did not happen when I went back to school in January of 2010 . . . at least not until I hit rock bottom.

The worst place you could be in your life . . . or the best, because you can only go up from there.  That is what I needed.  I needed a boulder to hit me over the head, showing me the childish decisions I was making in my life.

And now?

When I think of my life . . . I smile.

When I look in the mirror . . . I smile.

When I think about my decisions . . . I smile.

When I think of the person I have become . . . I smile.

I have done everything this semester I said I would do (except for the whole going to the gym thing) and then went above and beyond.

I got (very) involved on campus.
I even surprised myself at the amazing grades I made.
I developed friendships that will last a lifetime.
I found an amazing guy who makes me smile everyday and makes me wonder how I ever got so lucky as to find him.
I have made my parents proud and able to brag to their friends about me (one of their favorite things to do).
I have made new friendships that I am so thankful for.
I have disconnected myself from destructive people and places.
I have found an amazing new church where I have and will grow closer to God.
I have witnessed God's presence in my life and let's just say . . . he's always very obvious about what he wants for me, and I have been truly blessed.

I cannot help but sit here and smile about the amazing things God has done in my life and he deserves so much credit for the woman I am becoming.

At times people ask if you could go back and do it all over again, would you?

Absolutely not.  It was all those . . . mistakes . . . that made me who I am, someone who I am proud of, someone who can stand proud about the decisions she is making.

I would do it all exactly the same because who knows if I had done it differently if all these amazing things would be happening in my life right now.  I'm not about to risk it.

So I say: Make lots of mistakes, because you never know what blessings they will bring you.

When I ring in the New Year I won't be setting resolutions or planning life changes or contemplating my decisions . . . I will be in the arms of the man that makes me the luckiest girl in the world, thanking God for all that he has given me, and praying that my friends and family achieve the same happiness I am experiencing, if only for a moment.

So I sit here . . . listening to Mumford and Sons sing to me in that mellifluous way they do so well . . . asking you . . . are you happy with who YOU have become?

Are you amazed at how far you have come this past year?

Are there mistakes that you've made that you haven't received the blessing from yet?

Are you the person you want to be?

I Just Don't Understand

how some people behave the way they do.

Immature.

Close-minded.

Unable to move on.

I just don't understand how people can think it's alright to take "sides" when they only know half a story (and the half they DO know is coming from someone who is renowned for emotional tugging)

I realize that I'm still just in college and only a year out of high school but every time I think I am finally getting away from that childish, silly behavior . . . once again, it hits me like a ton of bricks.

I see and hear it happening around me constantly. I have it happening to me.

Is this what human nature has come to?

Is it an inevitable future that we will always regress back to the days of gossip, slander, scheming, "sides," and the "mean girl" mentality?

It is becoming a bad thing for someone to stand up for themselves and for what they believe, even if it is different from everyone else.

People are shunned and looked upon with a sneer as if they have no right to voice their own opinion.

Is our species becoming so insecure that people aren't able to handle it when someone who may not be as intelligent, or beautiful, or tall, or rich as they are speaks out against them?

What gives some people the idea that they are so much better than everyone else and that the mousy wallflower has no right to speak at all?

I feel bad for people like that. One day they will realize that beauty and money can only get you so far and it's the mousy wallflower who finally decided to break out of her shell that will have the most success, be the happiest, and have the most fulfilling life possible.

I understand now . . . but will they ever learn?

For A Friend

Some things just make me sick. And not just in a figurative way . . . like in a woah nelly there are some seriously upset frogs jumping around in my stomach area right now.

People make mistakes all the time and the smart ones learn from them. It just takes some longer than others.

No one can ever possibly find out what they need to know about someone in ten, twenty, or even thirty minutes. They don't know how that person is on a daily basis.  They don't know their ability to commit to something wholeheartedly.  They can't possibly know their pure passion for something that is so incredibly clear if you see them doing it.

Just because someone makes a few silly decisions that harmed no one else but themselves is that really a good reason to take something so incredibly invaluable away from them? I can understand a minor punishment . . . but some people are just a bit too not understanding of the flaws in others.

I've made mistakes and I have made life-altering changes because of them.  But still, some people will only see the mistakes and ignore the changes, my love for what I want to do with my life, how committed I am to achieving my dreams, the type of person I am in my everyday life.

It's horrible that some people have to be that close-minded.

Passion is something that many people nowadays are losing in their lives for what they do as a profession or even in their general day to day lives.

Who cares if you were underage and drank in college!

What about in the future?  When we are past our crazy college years and ready to settle down with a career that we are truly and utterly PASSIONATE about?

Should those silly, minuscule mistakes we made take away from our chances of being able to do something we will love for the rest of our lives?  Take away from our chances of being able to give others the experiences that could change their lives?

If I can affect just one child in my lifetime of teaching I know that my life will be complete.

But what if I was prevented from fulfilling that one lifetime dream because of an unimportant teenage act?

it's heartbreaking.

Two Weeks

Until I move back to Wilmington and begin my sophomore year of college.

Even though things aren't exactly as I thought they would be at this point in my life the good far outshadows the bad. Also, the bad is what made me make the changes that have produced the good.

I joined the UNC Wilmington Class of 2014 group on Facebook to offer my "knowledge" to the incoming freshman because, I mean, I was in the exact same position as them a year ago. I always wish I had someone to ask questions to. I see all the things they are writing on the wall and in discussions and most of them are extremely excited (rightly so) but they have no idea what they are actually getting into.  You learn and change so much as a person during even just the first year of college and of being away from home. They will have some of the best experiences of their lives and make friends that they will have for a long time to come.

They are all very excited to go to college but I think that returning students' anticipation is even greater simply because we know what we have been missing this entire summer.

On a different note, about a week ago I lost something that has been in my life for a while now. It's weird that Gossip Girl helped me think through all the stuff that went on but this quote says it all:

Blair: You blew off our most beloved tradition.
Serena: Just get over it, Blair.
Blair: Excuse me?
Serena: My whole life I have been bending over backwards to protect your feelings. And you what? It's not my fault you're so insecure.
Blair: And I'm sure it's not your fault you're so conceited.
Serena: I'm just tired of trying to hold myself back so I don't outshine you.
Blair: Oh my god. Can you hear the words that are coming out of your mouth?
Serena: It's just the truth. From now on, I'm going to be who I am. And if you can support that and not be threatened and competitive, then great. If not...

In this situation, I am Serena.

I love my life right now.

Things couldn't be going any better . . .

. . .  especially now that I have re-evaluated my relationships with everyone I surround myself with . . . gone to the dentist and had no cavities . . . and have gotten my first lady doctor visit out of the way . . .

. . . I know that in two weeks I will finally be back with my school family and in my favorite place. :)

Who Really Knows How It Feels

Lots of things have been going on in my life lately. Some good and some . . . not so good. It's easier for me to hold it in and not talk about it.  Everyone deals with their problems in different ways and this is just how I deal with mine. I don't let it interfere in my life and I don't let it change the way I act towards people . . . I just look at the world differently than most people.

I just watched a new show on Mtv called "If You Really Knew Me." It was heartbreaking and an actual reality show. Not a "reality show" like The Real World. In the show, people went into high schools and tried to break down the barriers created by cliques and stereotypes. I really wish they had that when I was in high school because then I might of had a completely different high school experience.

If people really knew me . . .

There are very few who actually do.

Who really knows how it feels to be the white girl who gets picked on for the color of her skin, day in and day out, during one the most crucial developmental periods of our lives . . . middle school.

Who really knows how it feels to say something and not even be acknowledged, to achieve something and not be recognized, or to simply be in a room and not even be seen.

Who really knows how it feels to have both parents go through major surgery within a three year period . . . one of them twice?

Who really knows how it feels to one minute be your daddy's only little girl to the next minute having two older sisters . . . one of which you never even knew existed?

Who really knows how it feels to feel completely alone even when you are constantly surrounded by people?

Who really knows how it feels to not ever be happy with what you see in the mirror or in pictures?

Who really knows how it feels to have your future threatened to be taken away from you?

Who really knows how it feels . . .

And the sad part is . . . that's not even the half of it.


If it weren't for my parents and the amazing support system I have created for myself (especially this past year) I don't know what I would do with myself.

My parents are the best out there. They are always there for me. Even when I call at 1 o'clock in the morning . . . my mom will answer and talk to me for as long as it takes. Even when I screw up big time they are accepting of me and love me unconditionally.  They tell me how special I am and how proud of me they are.

That is what gets me through my day.

The things we have or the grades we get. The money we have or the trips we go on.

They mean nothing if you don't have the right people around you. They won't make you happier.

So, tell someone how special they are to you. Tell them how the little things they do have affected you.

Everyone deserves to know how special a person they are.

Everyone deserves to know that your life would be lesser without them in it.

Everyone deserves to know that they have influenced your life for the better.

Everyone deserves to know what a gift they possess.

When I Go Back

to school I'm going to:

1. Continue working as hard, if not harder, as I did last semester.

2. Stay busy doing things for Teaching Fellows and try to get more involved on campus.

3. Get a job.

4. Volunteer at the Boys and Girls Club of Wilmington

5. Go to the gym at least three times a week, not including the exercise classes I want to start taking.

6. Not lose touch with all the great friends I made last year.

7. Try to keep my patience with the freshman because I know I was in the exact same spot as them last year (even though I would've gotten annoyed at myself).

8. Keep a more positive outlook on my life and who I am because I have made lots of changes in my life and I should be proud of that.

UPDATE:


9. Keep in better touch with my three best friends from home (that one is for you steph).

10. Go to church every Sunday (or at least try)

11. Find some sort of peer mentoring/counseling program on campus to get involved in.

Time Flies like a Hummingbird

Since I've been home from college I've:

1. Gone on Discovery, a trip that all Teaching Fellows take the summer after their freshman year of college.

2. Gotten my student loan approved. PRAISE THE LORD OR ELSE I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO GO BACK TO COLLEGE THIS YEAR AND WOULD BE STUCK IN CHARLOTTE FOR THE REST OF MY GOD-FORSAKEN LIFE!

3. Gone to Raleigh for Teaching Fellows and get to keep my scholarship. ONCE AGAIN PRAISE THE LORD BECAUSE I WOULD TOTALLY HARM MYSELF IF I HAD GOTTEN IT TAKEN AWAY.

4.  Hung out with my three best friends from high school and went to a Charlotte Knights baseball game where we oogled hot baseball guys in their nice little white pants, went to see Sex and the City 2 because we each have a character that we are just like, eaten way to much Taco Bell, reminisced, and had all around, good, clean fun.

5. Gone to Myrtle Beach with another one of my best friends, Jennifer, and while we were there we also went to my favorite place (a.k.a Wilmington) and I got so tan I looked mexicano (NOT ATTRACTIVE).

6. Gone to go see my friend Jake's baseball team, the Thomasville Hi-Toms, with Jennifer.

7. WATCHED WAY TOO MUCH GOSSIP GIRL!!!!

8. Begun my recreational reading.

9. Gone to Boone with family to celebrate my grandmother's 90th birthday. My cousin brought her adorable 3 month old and he is the cutest, most well behaved little infant I have ever met.  My mom also made me do a song in sign language for my grandmother's birthday, which if you ask me was horrendous because I put it off and learned it like two days beforehand and had to look at the lyrics the whole time. It made my grandma cry . . . so I guess it still counts.

10. I didn't get a job.

11. Gone to Raleigh with Jennifer and stayed with my freshman year roommate, Taylor Lee, and had a great time and I almost stole one of her dogs.

12. Am now in Georgia where family friends that used to live in Florida when we did and have since moved to GA into a house on a lake. It just finished a rain so it's a little dewey, the lake is silent and beautiful, and the buzzing hummingbirds are chasing each other and playing right in front of me.

Very eventful summer, overall but I still have a little bit less than a month before I move back in at school. I really should take advantage of all the relaxing I have been/will be able to do this summer because I know once I go back to school all hell will break loose and I will have no time to relax anymore.

So, time flies like a hummingbird. At least it does for me. Even though your wings are moving so incredibly fast and you think time is going just as fast as you are . . . it's not. No matter how fast you move your wings time will not pass any faster or slower than it always does. <-- (gosh that was insightful . . . just sayin')

This Is For You

Stephanie Wooten.

I know how much you love cows and I was very upset to find out SillyBands don't make cows!

It's such a disgrace.

This is why I LEGIT just sent them this email:

I am very disappointed that your collection doesn't include cows. It seems a bit discriminatory if you ask me. Cows have feelings too and I'm sure they would be very hurt to know that their fellow farm animals (the pigs and the ducks) are stealing all their thunder. I know there are many, many cow lovers out there who would wear them proudly on their wrist in various colors. I hope you see the urgency in my speech. Cows are very important creatures. Where else would we get our milk? Goats just don't do the trick sometimes.

Again, I plead with you to consider my request.

Thank you.

Ya dig?

Mmmmmhhmmmm!!





pineapple.


pumpernickel.


persnickety.


precocious.


aaaaand another word that starts with p . . . .






let your mind wanderrrr!

LOST

No, not like the tv show.

I was reading through my old livejournal entries and I have realized something . . . I don't know if I'll ever be able to write that way ever again. All that I have gone through this past year . . . even just this past semester has changed me. What if it's gone forever? My unique thought patterns. My . . . different . . . writing style. Has what I've gone through really inhibited my writing and my way of looking at the world completely?

This worries me.

When I think about it . . . I think I've lost it, which is depressing. I loved the way I wrote those entries. I could be writing about absolutely nothing and still make it interesting (at least to certain people).

I'm scared.

Like for shiz up the spout, about to panic internally, I need a paper bag while I hyperventilate . . . SCARY.

meep.

Ruts are Badddd

So for some reason right now I feel like my like is in a rut.

Or maybe I'm in a chunk (a chick funk).

Everything just seems different. I guess it might be because I'm home . . . well, in Charlotte. As much as my parents probably hate to hear this . . . Wilmington has become my home. I love my parents and I have great relationships with both of them, but Charlotte just isn't my place. When I'm back in Charlotte I am looking forward to the next time I get to go back to my new home. The place where I am my happiest. The place where all my friends are just a short walk away, instead of a thirty minute drive.

I miss my Wilmy.

This may seem over-dramatic but I don't care . . . I am on the verge of being one of those sad little animals in Homeward Bound that just wants to be home, where they belong.

I try to look on the bright side, though. I am spending quality time with my parents. I am getting my much needed rest. I'm still keeping in contact with all my Wilmington friends. And I'll be back there, living there, in just a couple more months. Ready to start my life back up again (because God knows I don't have one while I'm home).

Sorry this wasn't so happy and silly. :)

I'll try harder next time, I promise.

Oh, and one more thing . . .

meow.

Creative Writing Workage

So, I took creative writing this past semester and had lots of fun with some of the stuff I wrote. I though I would share some of it!

These first two pieces are written about the same thing from the points of view of two different people. In this case, a boy and girl both looking at the same girl.

Of The Female

Look at her. Sitting at the front of the class thinking she’s better than everyone else. I swear she thinks that just because of her long blond hair, perfect skin, perfect clothes, and “perfect” personality she can rule the world. It’s like a poodle thinking its poop doesn’t stink, the reason simply being that its coat is just poofy enough to put that extra bounce in its step and that its nose is the perfect shade of black and always wet, but not too wet.

The worst thing about it is the fact that the teachers love her, the boys drool over her, and all the girls are so fascinated by her that they hang on her every word and think she’s the epitome of flawlessness. Everyone might as well bow down in the hallway as she walks by, lay down a red carpet wherever she walks, and constantly tell her how beautiful and impeccable she is. Just like the poodle. It’s owner gives it a pink, rhinestone incrusted food bowl with the words World’s Best Dog on it, everyone passing on the street admires it, and the breeders say how jealous they are of the owner to have such an immaculate specimen of dog. IT’S HORRIBLE!

It has to be an act. I mean, no one can be that perfect. There has to be something wrong with her. Maybe one of her boobs is bigger than the other. Webbed toes possibly? What if she was supposed to be born a twin but the other baby didn’t grow so she has a lump on her arm with tiny, little bones in it that was her twin sister! I’ll have to do some investigating.

What’s this? The girl next to me just handed me a note. I can already see the name Stacey May as I unfold the paper in the shape of an envelope. That’s her! Maybe this is just the thing that can finally reveal to me her imperfection! I finally get the paper opened all the way and it reads, “Stacey May had sex with five guys at camp over the summer. She’s ready to party this weekend.” Then they put a big smiley face at the bottom of the page. Wow. What a slut. Well I guess I got my answer. Stacey’s flaw was easy. Literally. She is easy and that is her flaw.

Of The Male

Jeez she is, like, the ultimate chick. I mean, look at her! She has long blond hair that ever so often catches the light and it glimmers like she’s a goddess or something. And her face? It’s totally awesome. She’s got these big brown eyes that could burn a hole right through you, a cute little nose that looks perfect for Eskimo kisses, and her smile. Oh, her smile. Is there even a way to describe it? If she were ever to smile at me I am for shiz up the spout that I would melt like . . . like something that melts really fast. See what she does to me? I can’t even form proper metaphors or similes or whatever they are.

As if that isn’t enough, everyone loves her. Like literally, everyone. It’s crazy. All the teachers think she’s the perfect student; all the guys (including me) are in complete agreement that she is the best thing since, like, that time they made Pepsi clear; and the girls worship her. This girl is like the chick in all the movies that all the girls want to be exactly like and all the dudes would die to be with.

If you think about it she’s kinda’ like a combination of that little teddy bear guy from the Snuggle commercials and an Abercrombie model. Just go with me here. Well, it doesn’t really take much to see how she resembles an Abercrombie model but as out there as the teddy bear idea sounds it is completely viable if you just give it some thought. It is impossible to not love the Snuggle teddy bear. Everyone does. Not only is he adorable but every time you see that smiling face come on your TV you can’t help but crack a grin. It is out of the question not to smile when I see that beautiful creature walking down the hallway in my direction, which makes it hurt that much more when she doesn’t even notice me. One of these days though. One of these days I will get Stacey May to notice me.

Woah! A piece of paper just flew past my head and onto my desk. It says, “Stacey May had sex with five guys at camp over the summer. She’s ready to party this weekend.” Guess who’s goin’ to a party this weekend and totally living the dream! This guy right here. Today is my lucky day.

These next few things are excerpts from my nonfiction piece I wrote about the time I spent in the library my second semester of college called Second Home.

I order the same thing everyday: a small mocha with whipped cream. If I had the choice, I would then proceed to sit in the same seat everyday, but that doesn’t usually work out. I am an (OCD) creature of habit . . . and I’m okay with that. This obsessive-compulsive disorder I speak of is self-diagnosed, but perfectionist just doesn’t seem to be an extreme enough word. Many times I have called attention to myself by someone noticing one my eccentricities; for instance having the need to check my back pocket at least ten times before feeling confident my phone isn’t going anywhere, everything having to stay in the exact same place, my daily happenings remaining as constant as possible or else I get anxious and the stomach pains begin, my color coordinated closet, my constant “tick” to sit perfectly, have my clothes situated perfectly, everything around me in its place, my aversion to anything dirty or messy, my mini-freak outs when I get even the smallest speck (you could only see with a microscope) of something on my clothes, not liking to touch food with my hands, germs in general, the list goes on and on. Just listing them distresses me. Clearly, not things I would like to be remembered for. These things don’t make up who I am, but they are a hefty chunk, so instead of being recognized for them I would rather not be noticed at all. It may not make sense to some people, but it makes sense in my (mixed up) mind.

One of the first experiences I had was when I was sitting at one end of a table and a tall man with shaggy blond hair who was on crutches asked if he could sit down at the other end, maybe seven or eight feet from me. Of course I said yes and we sat in silence for a few minutes until a friend of his came along. She was tall, had short blond hair, and was dressed in sweats. She looked really run down, which I later found out was due to her being sick. It’s amazing what people will say when they either don’t think you are listening or simply don’t even notice you are there (my attempt at blending in must have been working that day). This woman shared with her friend, and me indirectly, that she and her girlfriend were having trouble paying their bills and they had to decide which one of them was going to start being a stripper, I mean exotic dancer. Apparently, this woman won, or lost, if that’s how you want to look at it. She began talking about how most of the time she’ll work at the Crazy Horse, but a night or two a week she will dance at Pure Gold. She even talked about the differences between the two clubs and her preferences, as well as her stage name: something typical, unoriginal and forgettable. I just tried to keep looking down, keep myself from laughing, and stay unnoticed so she would continue with her story. I was intrigued by this woman, a lesbian stripper, which apparently isn’t as uncommon as I previously thought. I wish I could have stayed and heard more, not to judge but for the sake of the story, but my child psychology class beckoned.

Another time I was sitting in the library attempting, unsuccessfully, to write a paper. First I only heard him speaking to the man behind me and I could tell just by the shear volume of his voice that he was going to be a character and definitely something to watch. Finally, he came into view. He was a quite large, creepy-looking man wearing an oversized, gray South Pole shirt with the logo in a rainbow of colors. The next thing I noticed was that he was carrying an abnormally large Taco Bell bag filled with food, that simultaneously made my mouth water and my stomach feel nauseous simply because of the amount. As if he hadn’t made his presence known enough with his booming voice, he thought it would be a good idea to teach a random boy a lesson about keeping his skateboard on the floor next to him. The first time he passed by him he pretended to jump on the skateboard and roll away and then proceeded to lecture the boy about being careful with his skateboard and where he puts it. You would think that would be end of their interactions, but no. Strange Man decided it would be good idea that every time he passed by Skateboard Boy, which was at least four or five times, he would pretend to steal the skateboard and laugh like what he was doing wasn’t super weird. That’s all, right? Wrong. There was girl sitting with Skateboard Boy, and Strange Man came to the conclusion that he should stand there talking to her for about ten minutes about her taxes. She looked like she was in pain the entire time. After Strange Man left, Skateboard Boy and the girl didn’t say a word to one another, but instead just stared at each other because one could tell what the other was thinking: “What just happened, here?” It was priceless. I’ve since seen Strange Man, but that time he was wearing an oversized Hawaiian print shirt and carrying a black bag of mysteries.

These aren’t exactly things you see everyday and to some people they may just be odd people, but for me they are people who seem to be confident in their oddities and aren’t afraid to call attention to themselves. At the same time though, they make me feel like my quirks aren’t as bad as they could be. I hate to say it but, they make me feel . . . ordinary.

Oh, here’s an adorable one. Once again, sitting and trying to write a paper (it just wasn’t working for me though) I spotted a boy, well . . . a man, I guess. At first all I noticed was that he was a big, burly man; all manly in his manliness and such. Sunglasses sitting on top of his head, headphones that looked like Oreos covering his ears, a striped jacket colored with different shades of brown, and his bare feet propped up on the table in front of him. Then I looked closer; he is reading Marley and Me and had the sweetest little grin on his face. I even heard him giggle like a little schoolgirl a few times. Maybe it’s just me, but that is one of the cutest things I ever did see.

Then there are always the little things I see that don’t mean much, but are always a sight to see. There was the man dressed in all navy blue who, even though his sweater was pretty hefty, looked like he had breasts, the woman whom it was obvious had just gotten a nose job, and the eerie looking boy with the curly mowkawk with a little pink coloring thrown in there for a little spice.

I also could never forget about Mr. Clean; a man with one of the lowest voices I have ever heard, is incredibly tall, wears pants that are too tight and too short for him, shirts that look like they are from the Baby Gap, and is never without the neon orange baseball hat, worn backwards of course. Then, there’s the chubby Mario! I call him Mario because of the fact that he has one of those greasy mustaches that curl up into little swirlies and a bowl cut. Enough said. He’s a cool dude.

Well, I hope you enjoyed my snippets. And if not, that's ok too. To each his own. Whatever floats your boat. And all those other sayings that basically mean that you are free to like whatever you want. :)