My Daily.

I have recently become obsessed with my daily horoscope. Yes, I know that there are a lot of people who indulge on this daily habit of checking your horoscope and trying to find its relevance in throughout the rest of your day, but I have suddenly let my horoscope it dictate my days. 

Crazy? Yes, but only because it is proving my theory that when we read something or someone tells us something we are inclined to focus on that language we have taken in and make decisions that will make that statement become our reality or truth. For example, the whole positive self talk theory that every insecure teenage girl has heard a million times in attempt to help them through their adolescent identity crisis. You know what I am talking about, that stuff you thought was bull shit!?! Remember being taught that if you tell yourself something positive in the mirror or in your head everyday, you will then start to believe it and it will eventually come true. That is because we focus on these words we have read, spoken, heard or written and our decisions are dictated by them, making us make them our reality. 

My horoscopes are becoming my reality.... Coincidence? Or am I just that powerful?

I Love Public.

Everyone can most likely agree that public bathrooms are one of the most awkward concepts in society. Whoever thought the idea of creating a gathering area for people to do one of their most private acts in public had to have one sick sense of humor and they probably have never had a serious case of diarrhea either. I understand stuffing six stalls in one room saves money and space, but it is just wrong. I am pro having one toilet alloted to one room as a social/comfort code and feel that it needs to be put in writing and voted in the next legislative session, ASAP. No more potty orgies, just saying.

Also, I understand that sometimes we are away from our own personal porcelain thrones and need a rent-a-pot, which gives public restrooms a legit purpose, but isn't it the worst knowing that you not only have to go number 1 or even the dreaded 2 in public, but that you might actually make eye contact in a public bathroom with other people who are doing the exact same thing as you. AWKWARD!!! You would think this would put you on a equal playing field with your other potty goers, but no, for some reason everyone still tries to act innocent within those bathroom walls. YOU'RE NOT! Stop judging, ass.

Eye Contact, why are we all so scared of it? In almost all situations eye contact is so intimidating, for example: in relationships, work, school, parents and of course to prove my point, public bathrooms. It is almost like we believe that if someone looks into our eyes they can read our soul and we are exposed completely. Trust me, people don't care that much, stare at them, you're safe. Knowing that we will all still avoid eye contact out of habit, I will continue with my rant. 

Now, you might be able to relate to this scenario... you accidentally glance at someone leaving the stall you are heading for... ugh eye contact is made... you feel awkward knowing that you both just shared a bathroom moment with a complete stranger. Not a good moment, by any means, but an intimate and embarrassing moment none-the-less. All you can think is something along the lines of: are they thinking what I'm thinking? Do they know I pee & poop too? Are they judging?  So you both judge the other because of your own guilt and assumptions. These are just typical human coping strategies, but it doesn't change the fact that you both pee and poop. Darn it. 

 Then there is always the awkward hand wash with the overweight lady you heard struggling in the stall next to you, as you were balancing over the "can" making sure you don't touch anything that you didn't bring into the bathroom with you, in the meanwhile you are struggling to multitask and finish your routine bladder disposal. While washing your hands next to this monument of a woman, you might find yourself thinking to yourself, act like you didn't hear her or even notice her, don't make eye contact and God help her fight the urge for small talk!... You dry your hands quickly and bust through the door back into the hall, the comfortably safe hall. 

YEESSSSSSS!!!!!! You're safe! You've just made it through another awkward public bathroom experience. You continue down the hall, only to notice everyone is avoiding eye contact with you, it is so obvious that something is not right, something is very wrong with you. The hall is no longer comfortable, it is now a long stretch of social anxiety. You find yourself resorting to what people naturally do when they feel like an outcast or abnormal, you glance down to hide your eyes. Walking with no visual aid or direction, you notice the catalyst for your social doom... a tail of toilet paper dragging down the hall, mating with your shoe. FML.

Who's Turn?

Your turn-

You waited so long to speak-

you doubt, and so your voice sounds meek.

Should have listened and noticed its existence-

Now I'm baffled by its presence.

Withholding words cause of hesitation-

leaves me despising your lips indecison.

In turn-

My words seem to trip over my lip-

you seem uninterested in my tongues struggled slip.

I've become scared of my most loyal lover:

Attention.

While you hide in bed with yours:

Imagination. 

My turn-

I can only imagine in words-poetry-verbs. 

Knowing poetry isn't your preference-

only because it is too welcomed by what you have protected. 

I want to wake your imagination-

instead I'm left thinking you're far too complicated.

Now - - I want attention. 

For the Love of... Writing?

I have found myself living in a fantasy world this past week or so, which explains the glazed over look on my face that I have been walking around with only to make everyone around me uncomfortable. No, I don't need professional help or rehab my friends, it is just a form of depression not a drug addiction. I kid! I'm fine, but this state I am in is not any kind of fantasy world worth wasting your dreaming in, it's far too close to reality and emotional to be a dream, but for lack of a better word, a nightmare. 

Working two full-time jobs only leaves time for writing and day nighmaring I am afraid. I am at a point in my writing where I am actually living vicariously through my book because I am writing too in depth for comfort and pushing myself to create vivid imagery. It's draining. I've always been a believer in the power of words and language (see January blog "Words" for another one of my rants). I have read books that have left me feeling just about every emotion on the emotional spectrum. Whether it be happy, sad or even some form of depression, I feel these emotions for hours after reading. So with that said, writing a book only makes you feel the emotions you are trying to portray constantly, I am exhausted to say the least. 

Now, I ask myself this question every time I pop open my little white apple to write, and the questions is: Is it sane to purposely lose control of reality and live in a fantasy world, just so that you can make your reader feel alive, while you are left dying to create it? I know this sounds dramatic, it is, and don't forget pathetic. Thank goodness this is my place on the internet to whine and bitch, and I love it oh so much.

If you haven't come to the conclusion already, here it is. I have writer's block and emotional problems. 

I Won't Ask!

My friend K.J. and I had conversation on the way to our recreational basketball game last night, and this little session of gab really got me thinking about the things that are okay, and things that just aren't okay when it comes to social settings. This needs to be broken down, I'm going to attempt to get you on my same page of thought right now... 

We all know to say our please and are thank you, to give more often than we take, and to never beg. Oh God, you never beg! You will be stoned with humiliation in our society. Especially if you are begging for love, just buy a puppy if you need that. (Is there a program where you can adopt a dog for the dogs first good months, when it is still cute, exciting and new and then trade it in for another new born when that gets old? Wow, that idea sounds like how most of my friends treat relationships... never mind I'll just get a new book.) 

Now, my conversation last night was about how it is more appropriate to ask to give than it is to ask to receive in our culture. For instance, asking to receive comes off as begging and asking to give comes off as this selfless and a saint-like act. I won't go into how I believe everything we do is driven by self-centered motives and how the word selfless should be taken out of the Oxford, Webster, iDictionary and all other books containing factual information or definitions, because it is a fictitious and fabricated concept. Even if we do something nice, not for the verbal recognition, but just for the simple fact that it is suppose to make us feel good or strike a few good marks for us in "heaven". I often think, I hope St. Peter remembers this one when I ask, "Please, let me in." The simple understanding that this is going to make me feel good makes the act not selfless folks, Nice... but not selfless. Keep up the good deeds though, I have nothing against people feeling good for receiving and giving. 

Okay... so I guess I went into it the whole self-centered theory. I couldn't help myself, people that know me, know I love deconstructing anything and everything about our ideology as human beings. For those of you who can accept that they are self-centered, accept my last paragraph, let go and keep doing shit that makes not only everyone around you feel good, but hell why not you too. Now for those of you who really think they are selfless, you are either the one exception... "A MOTHER" or you are just now realizing and incredibly frustrated that you aren't as perfect as you thought. Get over it. I hope you cringe the next time you get the warm and fuzzies and realize you DID premeditate that you were going to feel those if you did something "selfless"! Sucka. 

Now let me give you an example of when it is okay to ask to receive, but incredibly awkward and forthcoming to ask to give. I was born with a God given talent and genetically perfected hands for the perfect back scratch, tickle and massage. My friends who don't look at my fate stalky hands like they are meat packing or labor hands, know of their soft sensitive side, and they take full-advantage of it. I am asked at least 4 to 5 times a week perform one of those three luxuries for a friend. This is the catch, they always ask and it usually doesn't happen right on the spot because I try and avoid being used more often than not. :) This is where my comparison takes place... Every time after I do not serve them, they later ask or state in disappointment, "You never scratch/tickled/massaged my back!" Now, asking to receive is one thing... but is it my responsibility or at all socially acceptable to walk up to a friend and say, "Hey! I want to scratch/tickle/massage you!" Is that not creeper status and awkward! Sometime asking to receive is just more acceptable than asking to give. Amen.

Falling out of Sadness

I've had a fluent stream of thoughts since Sunday. I've wrote a little here and there while trying to figure out what my thoughts actually meant, but gathering them into a whole idea and putting them into words has taken some time.  I realized that sometimes you just need an amazing friend to tell you to snap out of it, get over it and be realistic. I have that friend, and she isn't shy to tell me how it is, even if it hurts. I respect that.

This past Sunday I spent the day with this verbal friend, and this Sunday changed my perspective tremendously. It saved my sanity. Now, this makes me sound completely unstable, but I'm not, I just have had a dark cloud hovering over my life for a couple months now. It's hard for me to let go, especially after losing someone, but it was put in perspective for me perfectly on Sunday, "You're no longer in love with what you lost, but you are in love with your sadness." This might not make sense to everyone, so let me explain...

Sometimes we become so comfortable in our state of being that we don't want to change it, even if it means remaining sad, mad, depressed or hateful. These are all horrible moods and emotions to continually feel, right? But we can actually find comfort in these emotions, so much comfort that we keep them around to protect or restrict us from feeling the opposite emotions, because the opposite emotions like happy, make us vulnerable again. And if we just continue to be sad then we don't have to go through the roller coaster of being happy and then completely crushed again. We just find ourselves being happy with being sad. Contradicting? I know, but my past reality. It was refreshing to know that I don't need anything or anyone, just a change of perspective and an attitude adjustment. 

While trying to come to this empowering and optimistic conclusion, a friend asked me what I thought love is and to define my ideas of love for her. God, the never ending question that people have been asking for generations and generations to understand why they can feel so surreal and then so shitty again and again, lover after lover. I truly thought about the word love and came up with this definition: "Love is a word, yes. But more of a category for other words and emotions. It's comfort, companionship, lust, adoration, affection, routine, interest, hard work, friendship and family. Settling is not a negative thing when it comes to love, just a reality. With each lover we lose, it is human instinct to improve upon their loss with the gain of a better and more fulfilling lover the next time we choose to love. Meaning we will always improve our lover with every relationship we move to, as long as we are confident and are patient to wait for someone better than the last. Eventually, we are content and settle with a lover because we are ready to nest. Love is just a category and the idea our species has created to define the feeling all those words create within us. The lust and butterflies, they come and go, and are not consistent or love. Every relationship is case sensitive because we each love differently and in different cycles. It's truly chemical, the feelings we define as "in love." Hard work and settling are what is truly everlasting and what I would consider love."

I want to fall out of sadness and into "love."

SAVE JACKIE!!!

My dear friend and Co-worker, JacMac, has reached a new level of concern today, September 18, 2009. It has been a bumpy couple months for my little buddy, I understand this and have sympathy for her shortcomings and stupidity. Aside from her colorful personality and good looks of course, she is having a hard time finding another part-time or full-time job. I have taken the liberty of assisting her in the matter. This is the purpose for my blog today. Jac needs a job!

Don't get me wrong, she is a hard worker and very capable of doing great things in the work force... but when I glanced in her cubical today and noticed she was applying, on freaking Craigs List, to be a pimp for a company called, "Women-Finding-Women" I knew that the little voice inside my head was God asking me to reach out to a friend who has completely lost her morals for survival... I was horrified at first and then the opportunist in me gave her the address to my recreational basketball league that takes place every wednesday night, thinking I might get a small commissions check for leading her to a gold mine of "Women-Finding-Women-Weekly." She took down my reference J.I.C. (just in case) she has to actually take the pimp'n job to pay her car payment this month. ;)

This is where you, the reader comes in... If you have any references, ideas, friends, help wanted or leads on a job, leave a comment for Jackie on this blog so we can get her steady employment and save the face of her beautiful family. THANKS!

JacMac (in black)

Just a Little Story

I finally moved all my crap/important items into my drawers and closet today. I have had a mountain of clothes on the floor in my room that changes shape every time I dig through it for my next outfit. For the first time in weeks I can see my floor! It's TAN! Who would have known?!?! Feels good to have some order in my life. It is crazy to notice that once I start getting a little control in my life, other things start to get in order too... like my room.

 I love both my jobs, and I haven't been able to say that for the longest time now. The teacher I assist at the high school has been one of my favorite people/teachers for years now and I'm so excited to learn everything I can from her. She continues to teach me more and more about how to effectively influence and teach kids in our profession. I owe her so much for taking the time to help me with my craft.

The other day in class we did an exercise that really forced the kids to open up to one another and get to know the journey their classmates have been on in their lives, what their dislikes and likes are and so much more. When J.J.(teacher/friend) announced the activity we would be doing that day, you could see some of the kids were nervous about exposing their personal feelings, stories and qualities with the other students in class. But after a couple people opened up and shared, it was like a wild fire spread across the desks, everyone was becoming more comfortable and honest. I would have never known how inspiring and strong my students were until this day in class. I am so impressed with what kids can endure and overcome these days. I have been inspired by the honesty and life stories of each and everyone of these students. That day in class really helped me put my life in perspective and find my footing again. I thank them and hope they know that I support and believe in their abilities to become who they dream.

My Techno Alias

It has recently come to my understanding that I will occasionally take on a completely different personality when texting. Of course it is different with close friends who know me and interact with me on a daily basis, but when you meet someone new, someone you have no obligation to, it is incredibly entertaining to mess with them by creating a new "you" through your text messages just to see how they will react or respond. Interestingly enough, my text alias seems to intimidate or entertain the most conditioned text messenger. I LOVE IT. But when is living in this text message world too much?

We can become anyone we want through text, it's empowering. I understand that. For some reason it gives you a sort of high becoming and portraying yourself in a way you most likely wish you could be. I've decided it is actually quite frightening what we can become. The funniest part is I more often than not, find people more entertaining and attractive through text messaging. That's incredibly hilarious and SAD. How impaired have we become interacting face-to-face? I almost rather text date than actually date in some instances. I hope you don't find me rude, but people are becoming less and less well-rounded as the years go on and become more technology driven. Where did the depth go? We'll read 1,000 texts a day, but won't pick up a classic by Hemingway. It's complete bull shit. There aren't many people you can head to coffee with these days and leave knowing the conversation at hand was life changing or enlightening. Instead, your coffee date will most likely go like this, you grab your coffee, sit down in a uncomfortable contemporary steel chair, exchange a few sentences of dialogue and proceed to text message some "fake" person on the other end of your mobile phone. Unless that "fake" person on the other end of that text message is me, that shit is not worth ignoring the flesh and blood sitting across the table from you. I'd like to challenge everyone to get a grip and freshen up on their social skills in reality and not technology. Soon "sexting" is going to be considered better than actual sex! This is a road that might solve the filthy distribution of S.T.D.'s, S.T.I.'s and H.I.V., but seriously, let's not play it too safe. 

SAY CHEEEEEESE!!!!!

Back to school. It's the first school year in my life that I am not a student. It is crazy to realize how much of my identity was "student." Although, I might not be a student, I am still mistaken as one, and not in a good way. As most of my reader's know, I am going to be a high school teacher and I am currently a T.A. right now at the school I will work for until the semester change, when I should hopefully have a job teaching. Now, when ever you start a new job, you want to seem as though you are qualified for that job, right? I know that I'm qualified, I have the degree and shit, but it's hard to be confident when you are walking down the hall of the high school you work at and your fellow faculty member asks you where your hall pass is because they think you are a student. I'M TWENTY FOUR YEARS OLD. Embarrassing. This is only where my story begins. 

So I remember why they had me do all those story problems when I was in high school, it was for future reference like this, my problem solving skills were being finely tuned and ingrained in me to solve all sorts of problems in my life. So I saw the problem and I came up with a solution, I would make my hair a little less fun, dress in dull colors, act serious or mad and stop smiling so much. This was my new image and hopefully would make me look more like a teacher. My first day in my new image was picture day! O' joy! I hate pictures, always have. Every picture in my childhood has me frowning in a camouflage outfit. I would wear nothing but camo when I was a kid, I must have known that my life would be an ongoing battle for attention. 

I approached the lady at the photo counter who had all the information and the cards with names on them to give the photographer when it was your turn to be photographed and documented into the archives of horrible year book pictures taken by Life Touch Photography. Bastards, they always catch me when my smile is deflating and limp making me look like I have a crazy case of Bell's Palsy. The woman at the counter looked me up and down and said, "Senior?" I responded with, "Ugh, I'm twenty four years old." She gave me the pity look you get when you are inadequate at something, searched the faculty file for my name and handed it over with a hopeless glance. Great! I still look 16. Now I just look sixteen, boring and angry. It didn't end there though, the lady who prepares you for the photographer thought I was a Junior and the photographer thought I was well developed Senior. I knew he thought I was well developed because he couldn't take his pretty blue eyes of my rack. Is it like a prerequisite when applying for a photography job that you have to be a perv? Cause I qualify and need a second job. Think I look old enough to get the job, because I'm sure they aren't hiring Juniors and Seniors in high school!?!?!

When telling this story to a friend, she answered, "At least you look young!" Let me remind you all about the theory of age; it is not good to look young when you need to look older to be credible, e.g. when buying beer with your I.D. that no longer looks like you because you change your hair length and color every month, leaving both you and your I.D. photo looking underage and unalike. Now on the other hand, it is also not good to look old when you need to look younger, e.g. after your husband of 25 years leaves you for a younger woman (it is my personal believe that men age better than women) and you are left trying to find a new financial plan(male) but they're all swooping the younger chicks, leaving you screwed and penniless. I need to look older by next week and I have to stop laughing at the students when they disrespect authority. 

Butterfly Effect

Finally!!! I'm out of the twin (one seater) and back in my big kid bed (two seater). My bed has been used as THE symbol of my maturity with friends for a while now. It might be funny to tease a twenty three... shit... twenty four year old for sleeping in a twin sized bed, but I want to prove them wrong right now, just for shits and giggles and because a new blog has once again been demanded from one of my four readers. 

I just want you all to know that I have not outgrown that bed, and I feel like I am so immature that I should probably have characterized sheets and an oversized stuffed animal that smells like years of cuddling and drool. I felt like a high schooler today. I've finally developed a strong crush, and for the first time since high school, I changed my outfit like 9 times and freaked out that my hair wouldn't look sloppy perfectly. Having short hair makes perfection look silly, but when it won't look messy "perfectly", then I see red. Now to me having a crush seems so adolescent and juvenile. I had a friend tell me like a month ago that she had a crush, I responded with, "Aren't we too old to have those?" I'd like to publicly retract my last statement on "crushes" and say, "No, we are not too old to crush!" And after worrying about money, sanity, school and what I'm going to eat next (my biggest decision of everyday), having a crush is a great vacation from worry. 

Now, what to wear?!?! I haven't unpacked anything from my move and I've been wearing the grossest outfits all week. They've probably noticed, huh! Why do I care? Now this is why I've missed having a crush, because they make me get ready in the morning... and the make-outs are way better. Okay, I like crushes mainly because the make-outs are better. And this is my explanation for that, maybe pressure makes everything better? Developing a crush puts pressure on the situation and in-turn makes everything that happens within this "crush" you have developed and created in your head worth while. Now that is my butterfly effect theory! I can hold hands, kiss and cuddle with anyone, but it is only the ones I crush on that give me butterflies. I'm attracted to the other ones and interested, but the crush makes the difference. I think it is all psychological really. I've missed my crushing abilities. I got to get ready! 

To be continued...

Home~ Sweet~ Home~

I'm sitting here (well actually laying on my twin bed, yeah I know twin beds are for kids or college students living in a dorm, I am neither of those), in my room, wondering where to start first when it comes to packing your life away. I'm moving out of my parents house for the last time. One might look at my age and say, "It is about damn time Chels", but I have really enjoyed moving in, then moving out, then back in five or six times in my young adult life... Okay, I Lied. It's a pain in my ass, but at least I got to see my mom everyday here and there.

Although, it is strange moving this time, knowing that it is the last time this home will be mine. Stupid I know, how as humans we create these strong attachments to material things we have decided to give sentimental value to in our lives, but in my pathetic defense, we moved into this home the year I was born and it has been my safety zone and home base my whole life. Every time I've screwed something important up in my life, I've come back to home base to pick my ass back up, swallow my pride and start over. Whether it be quitting a basketball team, getting kicked off a basketball team, changing colleges, or most importantly ruining my relationship with someone I loved, they all led me back to home base to rehabilitate myself and cope. I'm scared as hell for my next screw up to say the least because I won't be able to run home, my roommate Chip will have to talk me off the top step at our new place... seriously the staircase is huge... at least broken arm worthy. She is soft spoken, caring and logical, don't worry, I'll be fine.

While packing, I've been thinking about all my memories here. I want to thank my siblings for every great childhood memory I've had with them. My best friend and brother Dave and all our adventures together all over the neighborhood and in our imaginary world we would create with lego's and action figures. My little sister for all the fights and drama. My oldest brother for the torture and finding my sister-in-law Kaydee who is like one of my own sisters and best the decision he has ever made. My sister Danielle for her humor, care and designer couch to make-out on because I don't dare do it on Howie's couch. My sister and best friend Katrina, for always being my best escape from reality, her connection with me that gives her the skill to know when I need her most and always being there for me, and MOST importantly for always understanding my oddness. I love you guys and miss you so much. I had the best childhood because of my siblings and parents. And don't worry, I didn't forget you Levi. I will always look back on my memories with my best pal Levi who grew up across the street from me. I'm so proud of him and what he has made of his life. I love you buddy.

I want to thank my parents for building a home that can be a happy memory for us all, not just my family but all the friends who have spent hours sitting around the bar in the kitchen hanging out and eating my mom's amazing cookies. We will all miss 2288 in Williamsburg. I try and understand how it all worked out over all these years. My parents could possibly be exact opposites, but they built something that worked for me and hopefully the rest of my family. I'll miss watching TNT double header's on Sundays with my dad, and always rooting for the team playing the Jazz, just to get his competitive side surfaced again. I still hate Karl Malone purely to tick my dad off. My dad with his tough side that only covers up what a softy he really is. He is my biggest supporter, fan and buddy. Through basketball and now school, he wants me to achieve my dreams. I thank and love him for being a dreamer too. My mom, my closest and best friend ever. I will miss our talks laying in her bed on any given afternoon. Our cokes with sonic ice and the unofficial book club we've created together because of our love of literature. Her voice and hugs that always calm me down on a stressful day. All her sayings in her soft spoken voice and her ability to love and connect with any and all of my friends. She is the ideal mom and best friend. She fills the two major roles in my life and that is why when I think I've lost everything, I have everything in her. I love you guys so much and I love my memories here and can't wait to build a home and memories with the one I love.

Bad Luck... Equals New Beginnings.

I don't like to think that there is such a thing as Karma, because it makes me feel doomed every time I make fun of some random misfortunate looking soul, as I point and laugh while saying, "your team" to my nearest friend. It just makes the statement, "karma is a bitch" make so much more sense to me though, because I am a bitch, which in turn makes karma one. I need to be nice, maybe. Bad karma is not a good time.

After thinking a lot about my life, I realized that I have had a series of misfortunate events these past couple months, whether they be let downs or mess ups, I'm not fully aware of why they are happening to me. Is it bad luck, or bad karma? Now, I can look at this negatively and feel sorry for myself or take the higher road and realize, whether it is bad luck or karma, improving myself is never a bad thing, so why not do it regardless of whether it cures my karma or not. Improvement is needed now and fast, before loss of sanity happens.

I've felt almost every emotion there is possible to feel in the last couple of months. As much as I've hurt, been frustrated or even been happy, I am thankful for the ups and downs because I have never felt more alive. I have put walls up and missed out on some great opportunities because of my past let downs, this is only hurting me more. It is okay to be vulnerable and honest with how you feel and what you really want. It is the only way to be happy. There are things we lose and gain during the trials of our lives, somethings we will miss and other things we can do without. It's refreshing to know that you can do without somethings and there is only more to gain by letting go. Whether it be in relationships, careers or friends. I've found that you can only build from what you've lost and in turn won't settle for anything less than what you have already had if you value yourself and your worth. I'm ready for bigger and better things, hopefully self improvement will give me luck or create a that better karma I need. 

Brentano 309 time!

It has been a weird couple of weeks for me. I have been trying to get my job all lined up for teaching in the fall and then starting a new one to finish out the summer with has been interesting. It has been crazy. My parents have FINALLY sold their house and informed me that I have to be out by August 31. They said they'd never kick me out. LOL. I guess it's time though, and I'm thankful for that and for everything they do for me. I love and will miss seeing you guys everyday like I have the past couple of months. Saying bye to this home will be a challenge for us all.

I am so excited for all the new change taking place in my life. Everything is finally starting to line up for me. Today is a very special day though, my best friend is coming to visit me for six days. She was my roommate (Brentano 309) my freshman year of college and she is the person in my life, like than my mom and sisters, who knows me best. We are both about to encounter a new chapter of life that is going to be incredibly challenging and rewarding. I can't wait to spend time and reflect on how we got here and how we are going to get through what lies ahead. I love you Kim. You just left Dallas, I can't wait to see ya girl! 2.5 hours!

Just a Thought

Majority of the population spends their lifetime trying to find themselves. Looking for our identity as an individual consumes our lives and influences the decisions we make throughout our lifetime. It is human nature to want to know who we are and where we are going. But I don't want to find myself. I want to create myself. 

Naturally, I decided who I was at a young age by believing the opinions of others. The weren't always right, but they weren't always wrong about me. I decided who I was solely on my talents and what people told  me I was good at. Never challenging myself in any areas that were intimidating or uncomfortable for me. Playing it safe was easy and fulfilling enough for me at the time. The talents and interests that come easy to me are the things I chose to define who I was. I decided at a young age that I would play college basketball and excel in athletics because it was a talent I had found early on in life. No one ever mentioned that it is alright if childhood dreams aren't always what they seem and that you don't have to follow through with them. I pushed through the years of basketball even after my love for the game had left me because failure and quitting has been made into such a negative concept, especially in athletics. Quitting can be just another form of change. And change can be the best thing for us sometimes, it was for me. Changing my life direction when I was ready for a new chapter was out of the question, because it would make me a quitter. The time finally had come, I decided to end my basketball career and move on. I found that the only way to create who I really wanted to be, was to contradict myself. Entirely.

I had to step out of my comfort zone and face my intimidator and be uncomfortable. I could perform athletically in front of thousands, but turning my writing or something I had crafted in, knowing that it could be criticized and rejected was my biggest fear and insecurity. I pushed myself and overcame this fear of rejection and I started writing. This was when my blog was created. It was my way of putting myself out there and conquering my fear. I never would have created this part of me, the part of me I had feared, if I hadn't contradicted my childhood goals and the portrait of myself that had been painted by others my whole life. The brush was finally in my hands, and I became my own artist. 

Creating who I wanted to really be started with contradicting everything I had been told I was by myself and others. My journey as an English major has helped me deconstruct my life and beliefs. Now I can really create my own ideology and belief system. I always thought I knew who I was, but I haven't even made my own decisions till recently. In academic classes such as philosophy, literary theory, sociology, and psychology we are told we are products of our environment. There are positive and negative effects that come from all environments, but if we are aware of their influences we can control how effective they are in our lives. I want to decide for myself who I will be and were I will go, even if my environment and beliefs contradict me. My education and literary studies have opened my eyes; eyes I never knew were closed.

The Danger in Expectations

This past month I decided to try something out, a little experiment if you will. I realized that being let down had become a very consistent emotion in my everyday. When something negative becomes consistent in anyone's life, their common sense and the ability to think usually leeds to them deconstructing and dissecting their life's current changes or reasoning for feeling this way so often. One of my thoughts on why I was creating and feeling let down was the danger in having expectations. When we create expectations for the people around us, we are giving them the power to prove us right or more often than not prove us terribly wrong. Expectations are very dangerous. My mom said it perfectly when she said, "Don't let expectations become fantasies". True and powerful statement mom's. Agreed.

 Let me give you an example to help you understand my current realization. Dating. Yes, the dreaded social structure we created over time to find that person that fits you perfectly and will share the rest of your life with you. Otherwise known as THE MATE. I don't know what would be more painful, the caveman approach, which is getting hit over the head and dragged into a cave or having dinner with a liar who uses all their words of deceit and gloat? Then once you buy into their lies you find out that they are a total tool and mass texting all the same lines to every other girl that would buy into it the same act. How generic do you feel once you find out that it's working on everybody? Sucks, huh. Ugh...I think I would rather take a couple good hits from the caveman, they can't even text or communicate with words. Perfect. 

Now, having loved and lost, and being the shoulder to cry on for my friends who have also loved and lost. I know how we cope as women. We tell ourselves we can do better and then point out all our recent ex's negative flaws we just barely started noticing at our heartbreaks convenience because it helps us detach from our attachment to them. Attachment, what a bitch, you know her well I'm sure, it's their smell, their laugh, their comfort, their smile... you know all the visual and emotional bull shit that had you hooked to them because you've wasted all your free time making those things more important than reality. Now they go from being everything you ever wanted to being everything you least expected. Fact is, they didn't change. Your EXPECTATIONS did. Before you created expectations and fantasies about who they are or are going to be FOR YOU. Now that they are gone you look them in the eyes, during one of your ever so dramatic break-up fights, and say, "I see your potential, why can't you see it?" Umm, because you made it up in your head. New rule. Date people who have already obtained a potential that will satisfy your needs. NO more fixer uppers. Stop having expectations that are fictitious. Majority of people suck, stop making them out to not. Be prepared.

Now back to my experiment. I tried living my life without expectations. Tricky, right? It's nearly impossible. It's like losing hope completely, not just in others but even yourself. I changed completely during this period of time. Did things I wouldn't normally do because I didn't have expectations for myself. Expectations for ones self are goals, standards, morals, integrity and character. Just because I can't expect others to have these qualities; I can and will expect them from myself. I came to the conclusion that expectations in others can be premeditated disappointment we create in our head. We create these expectations/fantasies to give hope in the people we interact with in our life. I'm back to the realization that the only person I have control over is myself. I can only expect what I can control. Myself. Even if it means letting go and trimming off some social fat or coming off as a complete emotionless bitch when someone does something that shocks everyone because of their EXPECTATIONS! Wow, I feel better. Thanks.

Movement

movement... 

my mind paralyzing attraction;

they’re perfect in every reaction.

applying pressure to my every exertion,

my desires want solutions.

movement...

body language-

two souls perfect communication.

beats and pulse heightened-

holding my breath to create distraction. 

movement...

why can’t I describe you;

only feeling mesmerized by you.

you’re not even aware of your natural mastery-

I’m clinging to your every faculty.

movement...

in sync without speaking;

my curiosity overcomes thinking.

logic and reason become an illusion

captivation creates conversion. 

movement...

rare in a companion-

my most fatal attraction.

OVERRATED & UNCOMFORTABLE.

The rain has overstayed its welcome the last couple days. It is June, not April. Eff' April showers, you missed your window this year you harlot. Back off already, I need to lay out. Not only has the rain ruined my tanning schedule and given me afternoon insomnia, it has also become my hairs arch nemesis. Every time I leave any warm comfortable shelter and enter out into the cold, humid, moist downfall, my hair lies lazily to the side of my head. VOLUME is everything when you are a round faced Italian with short blonde hair. The rain is destroying my swagger and forcing me to hermit away. It needs to exit my life story, now. 

Interestingly enough, the rain has brought to my attention a mutual understanding with one of my close friends Drewbie. At lunch today, after running through a squall from my car Harriet into one of our beloved Cafe Rio locations, Drew and I landed upon the conversation of kissing in the rain. Now, I can enjoy a storm just as much as the next gal, but viewing it from the inside of it is not my idea of sexy or arousing. A nice covered porch, house or car window is very much appreciated for my comfort and viewing pleasure. This dry comfortable preference was only reiterated while I was eating my pork burrito completely soaking wet from my fifteen yard jaunt in the rain from my car to shelter. My current damp condition killed my appetite, so I can't imagine what it would do to my sex drive. 

Getting to the point...Why does our media and society make kissing in the rain out to be some exotic and sexy experience?!? It is extremely overrated. I'm here to tell you why. Much needs to be thought out before you fall into, and believe in this exotic cliche and imagery that is kissing in the rain. For one, rain is filthy, disgustingly polluted and dirty. It falls through our toxic atmosphere and lands upon your head and your partners head only to drip from the hairs, scalp oils and hair product of each one of your heads and down your faces. Gross. 

Not knowing your partners hygienic rituals only brings more fear to the current chemistry that is falling down your faces, onto your lips and into your mouths. You are eating their Herbal Essence or Suave... literally, and not in a good way. (cheap shampoo=cheap kiss) Now, the kiss finally takes place, it might be nice, it might not, but at this point it is not the quality of the kiss you are going for but the story of you kissing in the rain. Why do you do this? You do this because the imagery of this wet kiss has been made out to be an ideal aphrodisiac by our pop culture. Fool'd again, you fall into our media's tempting lures. We are all puppets, dammit.

The kiss is over, you are most likely left unsatisfied, freezing, wet, uncomfortable, awkward looking and haggard. Was it worth it? Unless this kiss ends with a trail of wet clothes and a pregnancy test, you are probably just making the awkward drive home looking like a wet dog and chaffing from the seam of your wet designer jeans. 

Drew and I both decided that kissing in the rain is just not doing it for us, especially after you factor in the cons to this widely viewed pro, that is, kissing in the rain.

Trash Talking, Threes and Blisters.

I've been reunited with my competitive demon. It's the part of me I never wanted to see again, but she's back. It's been months, well considering I hated college basketball, it's been years since I've enjoyed or cared to play basketball. I've had my little glimpses here and there of joy, but nothing too reassuring that I might actually love the game. It all happened on Memorial Day when my dear friend Kayla was spending the holiday with my family. Kayla is still a prisoner of college basketball, so her horrible hobby tends to follow our friendship around and stress both of us out. Hearing her stories sends me into my instinctive combat mode. The negativity streams through my veins and creates some of my best verbal attacks. It's sick, really. So entertaining and therapeutic.

Now it is known that my family used to have quite the competitive side. Over the years we have all calmed down immensely with our rage and competitiveness. Which is a giant blessing for someone who has failures. LOL. Well it is Memorial Day and Karen decides to get out the bocci ball set. Italian bowling, really? This was the beginning of my competitive down fall. After Kayla and I destroyed and trash talked my nine year old niece Quinn and my sister-in-law Kaydee, it still wasn't enough! All of the sudden Kayla and I weren't satisfied with our team win, we wanted to kill each other too. Before I knew it, I was lacing up my J's and raising the basketball hoop on the driveway to the legal 10 ft. regulation height. Kayla was fueling my demonic athletic side with her verbal and physical trash talking. Little shit. We can thank her for my downfall.

We play a couple games of horse and 21. It was intense, and to my disappointment my nephew Christian kept screaming that I was losing. So much for family support, bud. I was fine at first, but could feel my competitiveness starting to boil... after a couple games Kayla and I were screaming at each other because of a misunderstanding in rules and the fact that she can't count worth a shit. It has been so long since I've cared about winning or losing a game of basketball. With my family in my backyard and the next door neighbors who go to my parents church and all their family in their yard, I was screaming the most unkind and irreverent words at the top of my lungs. I apologize for the loss of face to my family, I'm sure they'll get some unkind glares at church for their "failure" in raising a well mannered and lady like daughter... To my surprise Kayla held her ground and in the middle of our verbal battle she kindly reminded both of us how much we enjoy acting like completely insane animals by saying, "I love us". This was my breaking point, my demons have been released and you can all thank Kayla for that. I then went on to join two recreational basketball teams, and started playing pick-up with the college girls that are home for the summer. I'm addicted! My feet are falling apart and my back feels like an antique. Someone please help me. Burn my Jordan's and break my wrists... I can't stop. I'm shooting unreal percentages!

Kayla Burningham, "The Instigator"

Buying time.

I am at a transition period in my life... again, maybe this is just life. Shit. After graduating college, one is expected to find a job and start their adult/professional life. I'm in the process of doing that, but waiting has become my worst enemy. I HATE WAITING! I am stressing out. I feel like I did when I was waiting for basketball scholarships to come through when I was eighteen and completely oblivious to the physical and mental abuse that came with signing that ever so attractive athletic scholarship. Trickery. Waiting is the worst for me though, the stress is paralyzing. I just want next fall to be here. I need it.

As of now, I'm bored of my current employment, as most people probably are in our economy. Where are all the jobs that bring you a fulfilling day, and continue sending you home happier with yourself and how you have spent your time? WHERE ARE THEY? I have one of these fulfilling jobs that will start next fall. Not sure what that job will be completely, but I have one. The problem is... what do I want to do June, July and August? I need money, but I don't want to dread my everyday like I am right now. Finding work is probably one of my least favorite obstacles in life, well that and finding a mate! Both seem to be more work than what they are worth in the end. The problem is, the only jobs that seem available to anyone are part-time retail and food industry jobs. Gross. How sad is our economy right now, it's pathetic. I am extremely frustrated. All those people who use the side of the brain that I don't use, you know the math side and logical side, not the artistic, abstract side. Yeah, they need to bring their "A" game and get the ball rolling financially for this country.

You know what the most annoying thing to me is, when you go to apply online for one of these bull shit jobs that high school students should have, not college graduates, and the company or organization you are applying for actually puts these applications under the link titled "careers"... career my ass. If they are going to use trickery and actually make you believe their is a career on the other end of that application, they should legally be forced to add under their company goals, drive employees clinically insane. I need a need a new job for the next three months. Can you tell? I'm going insane.

My Best Part...

Always there;

on the other end of my calls.

Without fail;

catching me from each fall.

I don't think I'll ever compare;

you love perfectly.

I'll always mimic your character;

my ideal example.

The part of me I cherish most-

you.

Love hearing these words...

"You remind me of your mom"-

my favorite compliment and accomplishment.

"You look more, and more like your mom"-

always searching my reflection for you.

You're my best friend, listener and critic;

you unconditional love always proves this.

You're the most beautiful woman I have ever seen;

completely honest, selfless and driven.

I will always have hope,

to be just like you.

Seeing the world beautiful and new.

You're eyes aren't blurry or judgmental-

you love whole hearted and unconditional.

My hero;

is in my everyday reality.

My fan, My friend, My mom.

An Overdue Thank You

Now that I'm all graduated from college, it's time to start planning my future. This is one of the weirdest times in my life yet. I've never had to plan something that can be so permanent. Getting into a career just seems so final. It is a scary thing for someone like me to feel like something is final or permanent. A flaw, I guess. So of course, to make permanency an easier concept for me, I pick a career that is as close to being a student as possible, teaching.  As exciting as it is to think about actually having enough money to save and live very comfortably, it is also so sad to say goodbye to the title of "student". I have been a student nearly my entire life, and I love it. I've bounced around from school to school since high school, and as hard as it 

was to keep having to redo credits, change majors, make new friends, play college basketball for morons (excluding the Evansville coaching staff) and move all around, I wouldn't have had it any other way. I have had the best college experience. I learned so much about myself and the people around me. Becoming and English major has changed my life entirely. I love my professors and friends that have been so influential in my academic life. 

My parents have been such a powerful influence and support through all the years. I'd like to thank them publicly for their love and support. I'd also like to thank my sisters for their support. I don't know how many times I've had to call my sister Kat or drive down to visit her in California, just for her advice, love and support. Thanks you Sis. Thanks to all my close friends who have been there for me through it all. All the way from my childhood best friend Kim Lance to Kim McMillin, Cammie Campbell, Maya Gross, Kayla Burningham, Jen Allen and my Kristin B. Lyons. Thanks for always being there for me when I needed a push to get through school, a semester, a paper, a relationship or any other life stresses. I love you guys so much and want you to know how much your influence and help has helped me to succeed. And to all my other friends, recent and old. Thank you so much for your friendship and loyalties. It truly is such a gift to find real friends, some people will never find friends who are actually what they portray themselves to be. I have been blessed with many honest and real friends. I was looking at some quotes I've kept over my years in college, I hope you guys enjoy them: 

"A friend is one who knows you and loves you just the same." - Elbert Hubbard

"A man's growth is seen in the successive choirs of his friends." - Ralph Waldo Emberson

"A single rose can be my garden, a single friend, my world." - Leo Buscagila

"A true friend never gets in your way unless you happen to be going down." - Arnold H. Glascow

"Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and those few be well tried before you give them your confidence." - George Washington

"Friendship is a single soul dwelling in two bodies." - Aristotle 

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that gives value to survival." - C.S. Lewis

"I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing." - Katherine Mansfield 

My Artist

Can you see me in color?

Or is your vision just as skewed.

Decisions are black and white-

isn't that how it has always been viewed-

trained to see only in shades.

Where is the color?

Make time for this change-

Stop, and notice.

White is only your canvas-

black simply the guidelines.

Color is the personality-style-soul-mine

Know you paint your own picture-

and it's absolutely beautiful.

Too inspired to be bias or blind.

Am I broken?- I'm finally seeing in color.

They're so vibrant and clever.

Your colors drown my ignorance.

Completely capturing my vision-

my artist, my wisdom.

Now that I see you-

I'll never misuse or abuse you.

Honest in my portrayal-

will you keep me?

Filling in my lines;

and covering my canvas.

I'll catch your colorful eyes-

like you've captured mine.

My Artist.

Spring Cleaning!

I love Spring! Not just because school is out and it is my birthday season, but because it leads to my favorite thing in life... LAYING OUT! Laying out is an art. Flipping at the right time, positioning yourself not to have annoying tan lines, keeping your coke ice cold in the sun, and holding your book just right so no shadow overcasts your perfect tan. It isn't as easy as it looks. It's a skilled art. :) Spring is the start of laying out conditioning for everyone. Everyone starts losing that winter coat, so to speak. I'm in the process of losing my winter coat every morning. Running, dieting and picking up heavy things. I absolutely hate lunges, buggers. The first week was hard and a burden on my schedule, but I'm feeling great now, and the results keep me going! I can't wait for the pools to open and for Worm to get here. She's my tan "spotter". Like my work out buddy, but for tanning. Oh shit, I'm explaining jokes in my blog, that probably means I'm not funny. Aww Rats, back to the drawing board.

Spring is so great, people start not only working out and cleaning up, but they hit the tanning salons or start doing outdoor activities to get that ever so luring tan. Why is everything that is a danger to your health so attractive? What an annoying fact. It's true though, everyone looks better with a cancerous tan. Their bronzed skin is so sexy isn't it? Although, if you really think about how it is just burnt, dead skin awaiting its next shed... that's not very sexy. Yuck, but hot right?!?! Oh I hate mixed and contradicting feelings! Gross, BUT sexy. I think the tan is why everyone loves summer. It is not just because of the weather, BBQ's, cool nights, and make-outs, but it's the fact that it is so much easier to find someone attractive during the summer. You always hear people talking about having a summer fling or dating a lot in the summer. This is my theory on why, TANS! Everyone is more confident and attractive with one. It's a fact. You will overlook some of the most annoying traits, flaws, bad social skills, stupidity and settle for someone you wouldn't even think about dating in the more dreary months of fall and winter. This is because of that damn tan. For those of you who are having a hard time finding people attractive these days... There is hope, THE TAN.

~A Few New Favorites~

10. Crystal Light Lemonade & White Grape. Freaking bomb and it is totally substituting my Coke addiction .

9. Dancing with my friends. "I just wanna dance", as Dane Cook would say. It's what we do.

8. Ogies  breakfast/brunch with my favorite girls and by far our favorite boy.

7. Watching all the Wes Anderson movies all over again with Chris. And making fun of him for not being cultured in Cinema. 

6. My work out & diet routine up and running again... literally running. Yum... Cottage cheese and peanut butter.

5. Conversations with Chip. Seriously amazing. EVERY TIME.

4.  Funny/serious/meaningful/incriminating text messages from a old friend I can't seem to get rid of. She's like herpes.

3. Kristin B. Lyons. Just her. Everything about her. Unless she is calling me "crazy". What's "normal" anyways?!?!

2. GIRL TALK. GIRL TALK. GIRL TALK. Best work out c.d. ever! KAT call me. I'll help you download it.

1. GRADUATION! Time for a new chapter in my life. Transitions can be the hardest times, but usually the best for me. I'm obsessed with change. So excited to see what will come for me in the next year.

Prepare to laugh, Angus Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging!

There comes a time in almost every readers life when they find out that they are reading only depressing texts. This was my time - in my life. I have been reading epic poetry all semester and on top of that, the books I have been reading for enjoyment have been even more depressing than the death of the great warrior Achilles and the annoying journey of Odysseus. I HATE HOMER. (Kris, I still haven't started my latest epic. Laugh it up.) I don't know where, or who decided that depressing literature makes the BEST literature, but the literary canon is full of depressing shit. Being an English major, for two more weeks, I am forced to fill my head and emotions with all of these texts. Let's just say I finally realized this problem and decided to go back to my roots, adolescent literature. I'm not talking about any of that horse crap books in the Twilight series or freaking Hatchet. I mean british adolescent literature. British humor! It is my absolute favorite. God save the Queen, for comedy alone. 

A wonderful and beautifully humored co-worker told me about this series she had been reading. She said when she read it, "It reminded her of me." This is the one of those huge "red flag's" for me. Let me explain, it's always a "red flag" when people are either, 1) Setting me up with their friend that they think is just like me and we'd totally love hanging out. This always ends with their "perfect friend" feeling out humored and simple. Just happens. 2) blind dates. I know it's going to end badly when they say, "You guys will be perfect together!" Just so you know, for the future, no attention whore is going to want to date another attention whore. The stage is only big enough for one of us. Ya hear?!?! And finally, 3) book suggestions. I usually end up reading the suggested novel and find that I am not at all who I thought I was, but I'm actually awkward and not funny in other peoples eyes... So I usually avoid reading their "books that remind them of me". So naturally, I figured it was another depressing novel. I found I had no intentions to read it.

BUT! She kept mentioning it on the T.S.A. hotline. Since she's rad and not unattractive, I decided to take her word for it and was in search of this perfect book. Now I'm just pissed, I could not find it, why? I was looking in the wrong section at the local B & N. I was looking in the Literature section, not knowing that it was actually in the teen section. Blast. A teen book?!?! That means no sex. What a waste. I literally stopped reading the third Twilight book 3/4 of the way through because Edward "the prude" wouldn't seal the freaking deal. That Mormon author should know that no vampire is going to withhold lovin', especially if he is like half a century old and has been single in a double's world with his patch work quilt made-up hot family the whole time. Everyone around him has been getting some for years. Get. Real. Hasn't she seen that vampire movie with Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise? Sex is always the foundation. 

Anyways... I'm off course. Back to my point, I have found the funniest series of adolescent literature. I have never laughed out loud so many times while reading a book. This author, Louise Rennison has absolutely mastered recreating the hilarious thoughts of a teen who is curious about her sexuality, make-up, older boys, her lesbian teacher and can't help but be completely annoyed with her family. (Is anyone else having flash back of their teen years?!?!) British humor is absolutely hilarious, because there are no boundaries and she says it how it is from a teenagers point of view. No filtering out thongs and snogging in British humor, it's a riot. If you need a laugh and a quick read, pick-up, Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging, By Louise Rennison. I'm just starting the second book in the series called, On the Brightside, I'm Now the Girlfriend of A Sex God. Trust me, if you have a sense of humor and don't mind a cup of PG-13 humor with your crumpet, you will absolutely love this fun series. 

Word Vomit

My life is words-

never at a loss.

That is;

until you.

Fumbling my words-

that is utterly absurd.

Utter and mumble,

I'm completely flustered.

You've captured my tongue,

leaving me numb.

Numb, as in: 

captivated-infatuated-dumb

I'm closed.

You see through me.

Preoccupied in other things;

avoid real feeling.

Look you in the eyes?

No, to revealing.

Blindness and doubt keep me from jumping.

Your smile is hopeful-perfect-tempting.

Move slow;

your movement is too inviting.

You've got me hooked, 

without even casting a look.

Keep it shallow;

I'm emotionally fasting.

Don't get serious-

I just need your fix.

"Friends?", I say.

Good, this will last another day.

Howard, I think you've got a Cowgirl on your hands.

This weekend after a night of extreme dancing with our friends, Swopes and I woke up to hit the open road. She was making her way to CSI to watch the mighty Bruins slap stick in a friendly game of baseball, the great American past time of course. I was on my way to the farm to meet up with family and friends for my Grandmother's 86th Birthday bash. It's always a memorable experience to talk to my Grandma about what the hell is going on in my life. She always understands and has the best comments and straight forward criticism. Hilarious. Seriously though, 86 years old and not one similar thing our generations can share in common, but good conversation and friendship. I love my Grandma Dot. Even if she says that six (Thanks  D!) letter word that is no longer politically correct in any of the fifty states, when commenting on my overlarge Jordan basketball shorts I lounge in while playing catch up with her. I can talk to her for hours upon hours. Happy Birthday G-Dot. Love you doll.

It's funny to remember how much of a country girl I was when I was younger. Loved the dirt, farm life, shooting guns, riding dirt bikes and hanging out with my Dad. This trip I took a ride in our old Ford pick-up truck with Howie (my father). It was like old times, when I would sit in right next to him in the middle of his pick-up truck and admire him like he was some kind of super hero. I loved just shooting the shit and changing the water on our farm with my Pops. There is something about our families land, it has this affect on my Dad, he loves it so much and we have some of our best and most memorable conversations while driving around. He becomes my equal and my friend, not just an authority. It's been too long since I have felt that close to my Dad, I've missed it. 

This weekend was a very pivotal point in my life. It's hard to know what you want in life when you are being told what is right all the time, but you are questioning everything you are told. It is good to know now that my parents support my journey to find out what I want out of life. I don't know what it is, but they always know what's going on with me and have the best advice. Love you jokers. Missed you this weekend Kat.

Dancing with Wolves... I mean Worm.

This weekend was a huge success. My favorite of favorites was in town. What a great follow up to my weekend in Kentucky, a fun filled weekend with Worm. It wasn't a normal weekend for me. A miracle took place ya'll. A modern day miracle. I danced. Yes, I know. Crazy, right? For those of you who know me, I don't dance. Ever. It just can't happen. I can't like it. Until I did. 

My first encounter with dancing was in middle school. Good ol' Joel P. Jensen Middle School dances were the highlight of everyone's year, but mine. So much fun for your average kid that was going through puberty and hormonal change. For me, it was my social anxieties worst nightmare. I remember dreading the shit out of having to go to the school dances every year. I felt pressured and forced to go "get jiggy wit it". So I went. My cousin Shanna banana loved watching me squirm. Our whole childhood consisted of her pressuring me to "let loose" and "just try it". She once convinced me to bring my gerbil over to her house to play with her gerbil. Her gerbil had tunnels and what was like a gerbil disneyland in its cage, my poor gerbil only had a wheel it never learned how to use. It was B.D.S. (borderline down syndrome), I swear it. After being conned into bringing my gerbil to her house, her house that was all the way around our block might I add. I quickly started making travel arrangements in my head. BAM! Got it, my mom put everything in zip-lock baggies. So naturally I put my gerbil in a cute and convenient zip-lock bag for the walk to Shanna's house. It was never just a walk with my A.D.H.D. ass, it was a sprint, skip, twirl, spin gerbil in the air and catch it kind of circus act. All I remember was her mom's reaction and facial expression, complete disgust and horror, as she swiftly put the "sleeping" gerbil in a small box, and sent me home to meet the fury of my short fused father Howie. This is the day I learned about death and how the grounding system worked and was going to work throughout my adolescent life. This isn't where the story ended though, sadly enough. This situation had to be scary enough for my parents, having to see their child suffocate the hell out of a gerbil with a zip-lock bag and not feel one ounce of guilt, but then also having a child threaten to kill the others is just a massive red flag! The next morning my mother denied me puffy cheeto's for breakfast, I confidently responded with, "Give me cheeto's, or I'll kill the other gerbil!" I was then on close watch for a couple months to make sure I wasn't a gerbil serial killer.

Shanna banana was an absolute free spirit, where I was a lil' insecure and shy. Hard to believe now, because people can't get me to shut up. It all started when Shanna found out I had a major crush on this boy named Sean, and that I couldn't dance worth a shit. Perfect opportunity for her to point and laugh, right? She disappeared into the dark/bad lighting show that filled the low budget decorated gymnasium. I'm alone. People are dancing around me and I can feel my social anxiety attacking my body and in result it is making my palms and pits sweat. My life! She returns, only to be followed by the teenage love of my life, Sean. And damn he looked good in his K-Swiss shoes and Old Navy polo and jeans. He approaches me, and asks me if he could dance with me the next slow dance. I freaked out, I didn't know how to react. So naturally I made the worst social decision for the situation, I said, "NO! I don't want to dance." Now this response doesn't seem that bad on paper, or in this case, computer screen. But my body language was impossible to misread.  I looked like I was shooing a stray dog. I ruined my first slow dance and crush within seconds. Shanna couldn't stop laughing. All is fair when it comes to family embarrassing the shit out of you, right? 

This weekend I finally let loose and cut that rug I've been avoiding since Middle School. Worm and me went out with some friends to dance and mingle. By the end of the night Worm was climbing off of a box she was perched up on for the sole reason that was to achieve the highest level of attention possible. I finally had my dancing shoes on and she couldn't believe it, she had to get a closer look. Pointing in shock she came down off her box to see it up close and personal. It was true. I was dancing. Mission accomplished, she actually got me to dance. I'm a natural, sorta, okay not really at all. I'm already nervous about doing it again, damn my social anxiety and lack of dancing ability and skill.

I'm Sick of Goodbyes

Another successful trip back to my roots. There is something about going back to where you started that reminds you of who you are and how you got there. I have the best support system out in the Kentucky, Indiana and Tennessee area. Every time I fly out, there is this horrible fear I have that something has changed, that this trip we won't have what we had as friends. You know what I'm talking about, right? The separation that can get between you and friends over time and you can never find that same connection or chemistry you once had together. That is one of my biggest fears. We all work hard to keep this connection strong. With the e-mails, text messages, Facebook and phone calls. It's been five years and I still feel like I never left. 

Once I got out there we jumped right back into what we do best, stories of old times, stories of present times, life changes and the dreaded relationships category. We can lay around for hours and play catch up. When we played college basketball at the University of Evansville, we were so tired all the time from ball that our favorite form of entertainment was laying around picking apart each others brains. This lazy form of entertainment is the reason why we know each other so incredibly well. I know the life stories of my best friends and they know mine. I even let my roommate Kim read my childhood journal! Bad idea, I have been teased about my simple, innocent and tacky personal narration of my little life for years now. As a child I had just about every allergy possible, so I had a sinus infection for a good amount of my lil life. This made me very insecure and my family didn't help much, they would always say, "Chelsea! Go blow your nose!" Kim will not let this line die. Whenever I whine about something she will quickly respond with, "Oh, Chelsea! Go blow your nose!" REAL ANNOYING! I heard it a lot this weekend. 

Another funny thing is we all have different religious backgrounds. It varies from Catholic, to Baptist, to Methodist and of course to Mormon. This usually would form a gap in a friendship because it is hard to connect on a deeper level when belief systems are so different. This has never been an issue. It only brings laughter, usually on my behalf. Mormons aren't common out there. Let me fill you in with the latest, "Point and laugh at Chelsea" moment. We are at Buckheads, watching our beloved Cards get their ass's handed to them by Michigan State, and my friend Kendra is telling a story. Well our booth and the booth next to us were connected and we were jam packed in these two booths with our neighboring party because everyone was out to watch Louisville. Little background for you, Kendra has a sailor's mouth like me and so Cammie interrupted her to tell her to tone it down, or actually to shut the hell up because the party next to us doesn't wanna hear it. I kid you not, the man turns to our party and says, "Shit, I'm not Mormon. Go ahead!" My friends and I fell completely silent, only to explode with laughter. The man's reaction was confused and interested. I had to respond now, to continue the laughter and explain our response to his simple comment. I clear my Mormon throat and say, "That's alright, cause I AM!" He felt so stupid and we could not stop laughing. It seems that every time I go out there, I am the butt of a Mormon joke. It's great!

The only bad thing about seeing my friends is knowing I have to leave them. The distance is hard and I'm never happier than I am when I'm with them. There is something about friends that you know will never stab you in the back or abandon you for insecurities or drama. We aren't like a normal group of girlfriends, we actually are everlasting friends with no jealousy or drama. It's not like one of my most recent groups of friends, no one in this group will be running off with one of my old best friends to start a himalayan whistle kid family right under everyone's nose. Which is a great comfort, cause that shit just gets weird. Now that I'm back in Utah, I miss them more than ever again! It's a never ending circle of missing, freaking sucks. I'm taking matters into my own hands and throwing Louisville and Indiana State in my hat of Grad Schools. Stay tuned ya'll. I love you guys!!!

Kentucky/Indiana Top 15 Favorites

15. Every time I come back it's like I never left. It's home.

14. Steak n' Shake with my favorite people.

13. My John Deere tractor sheets at the McMillin's... and pancakes on my face.

12. University of Louisville. Great basketball.

11. FROGS EVERYWHERE! Or just in butter tubs for Kim. I gave them as gifts. She would stop talking to me for days. So worth it. Pure fear is a priceless thing to witness.

10. Fire flies! We don't have them out here in Utah. Absolutely beautiful to watch at night. I remember when I first noticed them. It was kinda creepy.

9. Southern Gentleman. Best example, Kim's hot step dad, Jim. First time I saw him he was chopping down trees in a sleeveless shirt. This man is fit. I swear it was a seen taken from desperate housewives or something. Classic.

8. Ma Ma's and Pa Pa's farm and feasts. The most beautiful farm right on the Kentucky and Tennessee line. One of my favorite places ever.

7. Hardee's. LOL they still have Hardee's out there. Frisco burgers are one of the best fast food culinary accomplishment.

6. Southern Accents. Absolutely captivating. It's a danger for a girl like me.

5. Biscuits and Gravy in the morning... or every meal. I blame them for my freshman 30 lbs, that and the waffle machine at the cafeteria.

4. Brentano Hall at the University of Evansville... and all the memories.

3. BW3 wings!!!

2. The great conversation and night life with my girls, Kim, Cam and Heidi.

1. My families. I absolutely love my friends families. They always take me in. Love you guys. Can't wait to see you!

I'm so Excited, I Might Throw Up!

Next Thursday I fly back to the mother land, well... not Indiana, but close enough to friends and family from my year out in Indiana. I'll be visiting one of my favorite cities in the great fifty states, LOUISVILLE KENTUCKY! I can't wait to see my first and best roommate ever Kim (Erin you were amazing too, calm down, I have more than one favorite)! And my other friends Cam Cam, K, and Seltzer. Oh and don't forget my "long lost" Jess! I have some of my best and worst memories with these girls. There isn't a day in my life when I don't reflect on my year in Evansville Indiana. These girls will always have a place in my heart.

This trip will be like all the rest of my visits. Telling stories of our college experience together, throwing bubble gum and cup cakes at ceilings, BW3's, I'll be making my layered breakfast Kim dreams about at least once a week, and late nights playing a little game of, "would you rather" with Kim. Nothing tops my offer, "Would you rather eat with your butt, or poop with your mouth?" Yeah I'm classy. You all know what you rather do. Don't hesitate.

I'm not gonna lie, I'll probably break the shit out of lent while I'm out there. Great fried foods and wings! It's inevitable. I NEED Coke, plain and simple. Kim and I were discussing how great it is that I will be out there at the same time our beloved Cardinals will be marching their way to a National title. Perfection. GO UNIVERSITY OF LOUISVILLE CARDINALS!!!

Lacking Coka~Cola in my Life

There has never been a harder loss to handle in my life. It has been minutes, hours, days, and weeks since my last sip. I literally think that the absence of Coke has made me go clinically crazy. I have no tolerance for stupid people (that even includes the attractive ones now), I'm way too honest with everyone and I sleep the most odd hours during the night and day. My daily clock is jacked up now because I have been a coke addict for over 7 years. I'd like to apologize for anyone who has shopped at my store since lent started, my close family and friends, students, and for anyone I've recently decided to hate. I blame the loss of caffeine and cola. My apologies also go out to everyone who has seen a drop in their soda sales since I stopped showing up with my 32 oz cup.

I apologize to the following:

*7 Eleven
*McDonalds
*Maverick
*Sonic- "Happy Hour" just isn't the same without me, I'm sure.
*Julie-I know you have offered me Coke like 6 times and I have rudely denied it. You're my only true friend, because you offer despite my stupid endeavours. You really love me.
*Katrina & Danielle, for leaving them in their addiction alone.
*Anyone who feels bad for drinking soda around me while we eat. (Drew! Go ahead and drink that coke in front of me)
*My mental health and happiness.
*My pants that no longer cup my ass so perfectly. You'll probably be replaced sucka's.
*And last, but definitely not least COKE. We'll meet again.

Ode to the Tool

The older I get the more convinced I am that 73.7% of guys are tools. One of my favorite hobbies would have to be dissecting these men. Throughout high school I felt pressured as a female to interact, chase and be attracted to this species of male. What a waste of time and energy, luckily I was never attracted to the tools. I thought something was wrong with me, nope. COMMON SENSE is beautiful when you exercise it. Ladies, don't date tools. Seriously.

How do you even define this label we call tool-age. I'm going to do my best and attempt defining "The Tool". The tool: Men who are emotionally and physically high maintenance. Attention whores. Liars. Cheaters. Have an ego on steroids. Spend over 150 dollars on all their jeans. Probably didn't graduate from high school or even attempt too. Usually practice good skin care and might spend close to 1/3 of their pay check on hair products, hair cuts, lotions and teeth whitening kits. One-up kind of guys. (for example: my truck is bigger than your truck. Competition with size is common with tools because of lack there of with their size physically). Women abusers, not always physically, but most likely verbally. This is my definition of the tool. Not attractive.

You might wonder why I would blog about such a worthless thing as a tool, but I have come in contact with so many over the past three weeks. My cup runneth over with tools. And for the first time in my life, I LOVE IT. Not loving it enough to actually date one, but they can be fun and extremely entertaining. Let me get to my point, while on a double date last night I witnessed not only a tool, but a tool chaser. You might ask what a tool chaser is and what would they be defined as. Let me assist you, a tool chasers is: a girl who has tool fever and continues to go after and give attention to these men. I like to call them the enablers and in conclusion, they are the sole reason why tools even exist in our society today. Everything in life comes down to the simple theory of supply and demand, even sex. If we stop dating tools they will eventually die off like every other worthless and threatening thing. A.K.A. dinosaurs and polio.

Last night was one of those moments where you get so excited that you do creepy witch fingers like on the Wizard of Oz and can't help but smile ear-to-ear in pure enjoyment. My date was my oldest best friend ever Weevi, or some might pronounce and call him by his baptismal name, Levi. The best part was that Weevi was just as equally excited as I was, because we are best friends and have shared the same interests since we were in diapers, our interests being: building forts, playing legos, learning about each other's anatomy and being critical of the stupid people that surround us in our everyday lives... A.k.a. TOOLS! We sat back using our eye language some might call E.S.P.. We developed this over the many years of Sunday school and time outs my mom would give us when we would trash my basement in a simple game of build the biggest damn fort physically possible using every blanket, couch and cushion my house could supply. Our imagination was endless and way too curious. I was recently updated on things I must have suppressed from my childhood to prevent myself from guilt or embarrassment. LOL. WEEVI REMEMBERS EVERYTHING! Damn elephant.

We sat back all night and watched this tool chase his prey, prey that was willing to freeze on a slope just so that the tool would still think she was cute and desirable. Before we even got on the mountain I thought this kid was Shawn White by how he was talking about his snowboarding skills to bait in his tool chaser. Be ye not so stupid ladies, usually when guys can't shut up about themselves they are so full of shit their eyes are brown. His eyes were B-R-O-W-N! This was the case, he was riding through the park hitting nothing, but when we were in the car he made it seem like he was superman. If he was a gentleman with a brain, he would cater to a girls needs and take her on runs she would enjoy, but instead he was advertising himself, TOOL. There is nothing in life more entertaining than the mating rituals of human beings. The trickery and parts we all play to lure in our prey. Priceless. LOL. What idot's humans are.

Ladies! Stop fueling the need for tools. Seriously, get some confidence and date someone who has a job and actually is a man. Supply and demand. Stop demanding and their will be no supply. Thank you.

I almost killed Lent, but I started...

Lent is kicking my ass. How inconvenient it is, not being able to grab a quick bite, or have that burst of energy and happiness a glass of coke can create. I tried to cheat even! It's true, I'm admitting it to my four readers. I got a wrap at Red Robin "to go", knowing that the wrap comes with their amazing seasoned steak fries and I would probably fall into their flirtation with my tongue and stomach. After wrestling with the idea of breaking lent, I decided to get the wrap and see where the temptation would take me. The nice hostess brought me my "to go" bag and I was already starting to feel the high from breaking lent just by touching the handles of the plastic bag that was cuddling my food, so I tipped the hostess way to much and in turn received her bedroom eyes, awkwardly. Awkward and interesting what money can do to some people, right? That is beside the point though, I was off with some giddy up in my step. Headed back to work to satisfy my fat tooth. I made it to the break room, sat down infront of my lent killer, opened my "to go" white foam box only to find they screwed me over, NO FRIES!!!! Are you shittin' me. I emotionally tossed and truned, beating myself up over the fact that fries would be in this box and I would probably partake of them, all for nothing! But I can say, I'm still going strong. JACKIE be strong, no more!

If you are wondering what the "I started" means in my title, it's not my period. Why do our minds go there? Ha ha ha. After much talk and wrestling with the idea of writing a book, I have finally started it. As of March 5th, 2009, my book is under construction. What a struggle it has already been, I'm trying to get all these ideas down on paper and organize them so that I don't forget any crucial details. It's killing me already and it has just been a day. I'm bouncing around like crazy, which is normal for me. For all of those who will recongnize bits and pieces of yourself within my book. I'm sorry if I misinterpret details. Realize it is fiction and you are just inspiration for my characters within it. And always remember, there is no narrator or interpretation we can trust as a reader, sometimes not even our own interpretations. That's why reading and writing is such a personal thing. I love writing, and I hope you guys love reading. Thanks for everything!