I don't know where to start...so naturally...I'll start with me.

So this is blogging. 

My sisters and friends will be happy I've finally conformed. Conforming is inevitable for me when there is attention involved. I've realized that there is one person that most insecure and boring people hate. That person is the person that talks about themselves. Over the past couple weeks I've been studying the concept of identity. During my studies I've found that...I'M THAT PERSON. For some reason I find my life so entertaining for others. I LOVE TO TALK ABOUT IT. I really started thinking about this self-centered person that is hated in society, a.k.a. the annoying person at dinner parties, the friend in the passenger seat during a traffic jam that won't zippy lippy, a head on collision with chatty kathy in a grocery store aisle, or hearing their ring tone go off right before you are laying your head down for the perfect nap. They just can't stop talking about themselves or all the shit that has happened to them. I find that blogging creates this person perfectly; and I intend on taking full advantage of this cyber stage. The beauty of this blog world is I don't have to be that person attacking you with stories and my drama because you have the freedom of choice. The click of the mouse either opens my mouth or doesn't. With that said... it's time to blog.

One of my favorite Sunday activities for the past couple summers has been tanning. While attending the poorly established college we Utahans call Dixie State, I laid out just about everyday. I looked like an expensive leather handbag... literally, being that those purses just keep getting more and more the size of a body bag then the standard clutch. Anyways... getting to my point. Last sunday while laying out I realized that this year has been quite the ass kicking. Always offending friends that I love dearly, offending people I don't care for, getting kicked off my college basketball team for having a mind and opinion of my own (which we all know my mouth was their scapegoat to get rid of me because they can't count my credit hours to save their lives. Damn having a personality and sharp tongue.), family drama, and well school is always a stress. So while laying out I was thinking about my 2008 run so far and feeling as though life had shit on me, I decided to focus on the positive things. My sis and I start talking about all the make believe happiness we try to convince ourselves we have and we hear a splat! Wouldn't you know the moment I start to think positively about not getting shit on by life, I literally get shit on! Right on my leathery thigh lands an unpleasant pearly poop. We have all always been told to think positively. Always look at the good and choose to be happy. Why doesn't anyone ever get props for being honest and realistic? Once you lie to yourself you get shit on. Lesson learned.