Hair

Today, I went shopping and decided on the way home to get my hair cut. I had thought about getting it cut for a few days and knew I needed to do it. I'm growing my hair out to donate to Wigs for Kids, but it needed to be trimmed. It had lots of split ends, so I went ahead and got three inches cut off. It makes me kind of sad because I know it will be a while before I'm able to cut it off. I have to cut off an entire foot, which is kind of a lot. Before today, I probably could have cut it off, but I wanted to donate healthy hair, not hair riddled with damaged ends.

I donated my hair once before in high school to Locks of Love. I am not a fan of some of the things they do, so I've decided not to donate to them again.

My hair is one of my favorite physical things about myself. Probably because I don't like a whole lot of the other things about myself. It's super shiny, at no effort of my own. It's always been shiny. I used to think it was from swimming all the time (cold water supposedly makes it shiny) but when high school ended, so did my 4-6 times a week swimming habit, but my hair stayed shiny. It's ridiculously straight, making it easy to take care of. It does get all funky when I sleep on it, but running a straightener through it is pretty much all it takes. It's quite lovely.

Hypochondriac

Sometimes I think I'm a little bit of a hypochondriac. I don't mean to be, it just sort of happens. Last weekend I got sick (I'm still sick, actually) for the second time in less than six weeks. Normally, I get sick twice in a year. Maybe. I had two colds this summer, bronchitis a few weeks ago, and another cold now. It always makes me suspicious that something else is going on. Part of it may be that I'm working with kids, but I've worked with kids during the school year before and it wasn't an issue back then. I didn't really get sick when I was away at school much, either, even though I shared an apartment with three other girls.

If I'm honest, which is the whole purpose of this blog, sometimes I wish there was actually something wrong. I have this weird desire to get out of all my responsibilities for a legitimate reason without feeling guilty about it. I really don't have that many responsibilities, but sometimes it feels like they're going to crush me.

I know that if something ever is wrong one day I'll probably change my mind, and don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for my health, but sometimes it just seems like it would be nice to just disappear.

Risk and gain

I don't cry a lot. I never really have with the exception of last fall when I cried at least once a week, usually because of school or out of frustration about grad school and decisions that needed to be made about applications. My entire future, in some ways, rested upon those applications. I guess if I think about it like that, it seems pretty normal that I cried about them on a regular basis, even if I felt like I was just going crazy at the time. Because, let me tell you, I was convinced I was. To the extent that I contemplated going to see a neurologist (the fact that I get headaches regularly factored into that as well). I didn't go see a neurologist and I am fine.

At various times, people have accused me of being cold-hearted or uncaring because of how rare it is that I cry. In movies, for example, I rarely shed a tear which is unfathomable to some of the people in my life when it comes to movies like A Walk to Remember. I think part of it is that I hold emotions in. It's easier to do that than to let them out because if I let emotions out, that requires letting people in, and people, generally, have the tendency to hurt you. Is that a good way to live? No. Ninety-nine percent of the time, at least. I've come to realize that if I fail to take risks relationally or otherwise, I don't really get anything back either. And sometimes most of the time, I'm not exactly sure how to handle that.

Wal-Mart

Today, I went to Wal-Mart for the first time in almost two years. Weird, right? Yeah, probably.

It started in August of 2009. I heard a commercial on the radio for Wal-Mart stating that they supported socialized health care, which is something that I not only do not support, but vehemently disagree with, but that is another post for another time. Also, I felt it was hypocritical for Wal-Mart to say that "affordable" health care needed to be available for everybody when they don't even provide affordable health care for their own employees. I know that's the norm for retail stores not to provide that for their hourly workers, but Wal-Mart is not exactly hurting on their bottom line. At that moment, I decided I didn't need to, or want to, shop at Wal-Mart anymore. It wasn't just that, some of their other business principles are a little on the shady side as well. Yes, I am well aware that there are a lot of places with some shady business principles, but Wal-Mart is sort of the biggest chain. I went once or twice after that with friends, and hadn't been back since. Until today.

I went with my class at work to buy items for Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes. It was, well it was kind of weird to be back there. I tried to convince my co-teacher that we should go to Target, but he would have nothing do with it. He said Wal-Mart was what was beautiful about capitalism. I said I thought it was the competition between the two, but that is beside the point. I can't say that I'll be back soon. The trip was fine, I just don't feel that Wal-Mart is a company I want to give my business to.

I know that choosing to boycott a company sets me apart and makes me different, but you know? I think I am okay with that.

Writers block

"The easiest thing to do on earth is not write." - William Goldman

I've been writing in here for what, a week? I feel like I have writers block already. I guess I thought I had more stuff to be brutally honest about. Or, I'm unwilling to admit to all the other things I could admit to. But heck. Nobody is reading this right now. Or potentially ever. It might help if I commented on other blogs to get some traffic. I just haven't.

Today, I ate cookie dough as both a mid morning snack and as part of dinner. The other part of dinner was pringles. Super healthy, I know. This is probably why I struggle with my weight. And by probably I mean it is. Most of it, at least. On the bright side, I did lose a pound between last Friday morning and this morning. I haven't seen the number I saw on the scale since I THINK 2008. The last time I am completely sure of what my lowest weight was was August of 2006. I've got a little less than 25 pounds to go before I reach that weight. That weight is also the weight I want to be at by the wedding I'm in in May. I'll still have plenty to lose after that, but I wanted to do something realistic. Maybe when it's all said and done, I'll tell what I weight at my heaviest. Right now, I'm too close to that weight to disclose it. 

Today, I went into work early because one of my bosses wasn't going to be there and there needed to be somebody at the desk. It turns out I didn't need to be there because another girl (who wasn't asked to be there and didn't ask if she could be) came in. I stupidly didn't take any kind of book to read, so I basically sat there for two hours doing (almost) nothing. Nothing of importance, for sure.

I am attracted to one of my co-workers, which I know is something I have to be ridiculously careful about since we work with children. He has told me on more than one occasion he doesn't want to get married or have kids (although other things he has said make me question those statements) so I'm not really sure why I'm attracted to him. I'm basically wasting my time. Even if he did want to get married, but didn't want kids, I'd be wasting my time because I want kids more than just about anything else. I want children to the extent that if I'm not married or in a serious relationship that I think will end in marriage in the very near future by the time I'm 30, I fully intend to start the adoption process. I know it's hard to do as a single, but it can be done. If that means I have to go out of the country or adopt a child that is olderish (like elementary/middle school age), that's fine. I just want a child. I guess really I want two or three. I don't want for my child to be an only child.  I'd love to adopt an olderish sibling pair/group. 

There are so many things I could have done this morning and this evening to be productive. A paper to start writing, a test to study for, textbook chapters to read. I've done nothing. That's pretty typical for me. I always push stuff off and then wish I wouldn't have. Then I stress about it because I never know if I'll have all the time I need. It's ridiculous and I shouldn't do it, but old habits die hard. Nothing terrible has ever come out of it, which is why I guess I continue to do it.

Alright, so clearly my writing was not that blocked, because I said a lot. Well, I typed a lot. I probably didn't actually "say" much.

Music

"It's cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness of pain: of strength and freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature and the everlasting beauty of monotony." - Benjamin Britten

Music is, I think, such an odd thing. It's unexplainable, really. It has the ability to connect with people in ways words rarely can.

There are so many songs that have lyrics that are very reminiscent of certain times or of certain people. I recently heard The Reason by Hoobastank. It was ridiculously popular my freshman year of high school, and hearing it instantly brings back memories of a spring break trip to Washington D.C. You and Me by Lifehouse reminds me of a short relationship between two members in my group of high school friends. Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift is what I wish upon my ten-year-old cousin who is growing up much too fast. Wagon Wheel by Old Crow Medicine Show never ceases to take me back to the person who changed my life. Of course, it is just one of many songs that take me back to him. Fireflies by Owl City reminds me of summer of 2009 in a multitude of ways. There's a Christmas song that's something about a Holly and a Berry. I don't know the name, but the first like is "Oh the holly she bears a berry the blood it is red." That song always reminds me of car rides in my mom's van at Thanksgiving and/or Christmas to see family in the next state over. More specifically, it reminds me of my dad. He usually repeated that song no less than three times. Be Thou My Vision and I'll Fly Away will always remind me of my grandpas. The former was sung at my papa's funeral after he died of brain cancer in 2004. The later was sung at my grandpa's funeral in February after he died of... Well, he didn't die of anything, really. He was 101. It was sung with everybody in the small church holding hands. The image of my dad laying his spare hand on my grandfather's casket is forever etched into my mind.

Music has a way of getting through to a person. A way of making them feel emotions they didn't know were inside of them. Sometimes it's hard. I can think of several occasions when I could not listen to certain songs, or even music at all, because it was too difficult in light of what was going on at that moment in my life. I also think that music has a way of healing any ailment.

Honesty

Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom. - Thomas Jefferson

If Mr. Jefferson was correct, I have a very wise 10-year-old in my class. Today, several of the children in my class had to write sentences for coming into the building loudly. After discussion with my co-teacher, we wrote a sentence and decided it needed to be written 15 times by each child who had been loud. When one girl asked how many times they needed to write the sentence, I said 15. She responded, "that's not very many." Her honesty cost her and some of her classmates five extra sentences, so maybe that wasn't such a wise thing for her to say, but I do appreciate her honesty. I know she'll go far in life because of it.

Lies and fear

"We tell lies when we are afraid... afraid of what we don't know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us.  But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger." - Tad Williams


As you may have noticed by now, I am starting every post with a quote. I hope to continue this, but at some point, I may stop. I found this quote when I was searching for a quote for the last entry and it struck a chord with me, so I thought I should use it.


I think that part of the reason I chose to do this was that as I looked back over some of my old journal entries, there were places where I didn't necessarily lie, but I didn't exactly tell the truth either. It was a mixture between the two. I guess technically that makes it a lie. Sometimes it was because I didn't want other people to know the truth, but more often it was because I was unwilling to face it. Obviously, one way to avoid that is not to write about it at all. I guess the entire purpose of this blog is to be completely honest about everything, and tell the complete, 100% truth. It's harder than I would like to admit. Some of the stuff I have written (and I'm sure stuff I will continue to write) is not stuff I want to admit. Especially not to people that know me. I have a hard enough time letting people get to know the surface version of me, much less the legitimate me. It's kind of scary opening up. Because when you open up and allow people to get to know you, they have the potential to hurt you, and who wants to deal with that, right?

My Ex Best Friend Part 2

Several weeks later, he met a girl and they started dating. This was when it all went downhill. We talked a little bit less when they started dating. No big deal, that happens in a lot of new relationships while the couple is adjusting to each other. They broke up after about a month and then got back together just before Christmas. Over the next few months, we stopped talking almost entirely. I found out later that it was because his girlfriend was jealous of me because of how close he and I were and wouldn't let him talk to me. That should have been my sign, but it wasn't. I wasn't content talking as seldom as we did, but I went with it. I figured something was better than nothing and chalked it up to that we were both about to graduate and start college, among other things. That April, he proposed to his girlfriend. I didn't find out from him, so I wasn't exactly happy about that. I realized that it was time to answer his question. Regardless of whether or not he was serious when he asked.

We continued to not talk a whole lot over the next few months. I was regularly reminded of the fact we weren't together. We both have common names. Like top ten-fifteen in our birth year common, so it's not uncommon for me to see my name and his name together. And I did. A lot. And it was so flipping hard. In June, I went to a wedding and when I got home, I asked if I could call. I realized talking to him that night that he wasn't happy, and I hated that I couldn't do anything about it. He kept telling me everything was fine, but it goes back to the fact that we were best friends and we picked up on that stuff. We started talking again more than we had been. Not a lot, but more than once a month. He continued to date the same girl on and off. The next fall, I transfered schools (I was at a community college) to the school he was at. I've never admitted this before but part of the reason I chose that school was because of him. Mostly I chose it because it had a good program for my major and I didn't want to go to the university in the city I live in, but him being there helped. They broke up in September and we started hanging out and talking a lot more. In October, we had a phone conversation that made me fall for him all over again. We were talking and he could just tell that something was wrong. I denied it, but he was right. And I realized, again, that he knew me better than I did.

In November, he started dating a new girl. She made his ex (whom I should add was abusive) seem like an angel. I was not a fan of this new girl. Part if it probably had something to do with that she was still in high school. If I recall correctly, she wasn't even a senior. We talked less and less. In January or February, he was supposed to come over one night but never did and never said he wasn't going to. I texted him around 11 and told him not to bother coming over. He was livid. We didn't talk for weeks. Then he said he missed me. Then it got to the point where we hardly talked at all by March. I texted him when I found out my dad had cancer (he's fine now). He was sympathetic. That summer when my dad's surgery to remove his cancer went awry, I tried to talk to him and he was pretty unresponsive. He and his girlfriend broke up in October. They were still talking for a month or so after that. That ended when we were hanging out one day and she went ape shit when he wouldn't tell her who he was with or what he was doing. She then proceeded to tell him to have fun with that bitch and not to get any STDs. He was mad that she called me that (I though it was kind of funny, personally) and that she would insinuate that that was what we were doing and/or that I had STDs (I don't). That fall, things were... Well, they were perfect. Beyond perfect, really. I was sure that we were going to get together. He gave me a picture frame for Christmas. It had seven slots in it and his card said he wanted for it to be filled with us doing seven things together by the next fall.

In March, things started to get weird again which I later found out why, though the reason is not mine to tell. By mid April we had almost entirely stopped talking, and I had to go see a counselor because it was having such a huge impact on me. I realized I didn't need him in my life. I was doing good until I came back to school in the fall and he texted me. All he said was "hey." I knew I had to be careful. And I was. He had a girlfriend, and I wasn't interested in him anymore (finally). They broke up, he started dating a new girl, but things were still pretty much the same with us. Then in January. The 22nd, to be exact, we were supposed to hang out. We were going to go to a new fast food place by my apartment and then play some Mario Kart and Super Mario Bros. on my Wii. One o clock rolled around. I texted him asking if we were still doing something. No response. I thought that was odd considering he had posted something on Facebook ten minutes prior to my text message but left it. Around four, I texted him again and asked if he was still sick (he had been sick earlier in the week). He said he was sorry that he just woke up. I asked if we were still doing anything today. He said he didn't think he was going to be able to make it to (insert name of city I lived in) that day. I said "that's fine." I was mad, but I just left it. Until I got on facebook less than an hour later and his status said "Movies all day with my girl" (Or something along those lines). Let me add that his "girl" was his most recent girlfriend (she was an ex at the time because they broke up in the fall because she had cheated on him). From that moment on, I knew I didn't need him in my life anymore. We've spoken four times since then. Twice briefly, one legitimate conversation on Skype, and one text conversation. He and his "girl" broke up recently. I'm not surprised. I have no idea why, but that's not really important. I'm sure if he wanted to talk about it, I would listen, but it would be hard. I still hate not having him in my life and there are nearly daily reminders of that.

The picture frame he gave me that year for Christmas is still empty. It's just not mine anymore. I gave it to a friend who knew what had happened and said she could use it. I think in a lot of ways that picture frame was representative of our friendship, so it's nice to no longer have it in my possession.

My Ex Best Friend Part 1

"I mean, maybe not all friendships have to be saved. You know, maybe we're just meant to spend a certain part of our lives with certain people and then move on." - Dawson's Creek

In my first post, I alluded to my cut off relationship with my ex best-friend. I typically choose not to talk about it because there is so much back story to everything that it's hard to even know where to start. Even though I rarely talk about it anymore, I feel like the people who know what happened get annoyed when I bring it up (this is more my perception than anything, I think. None of them have ever said anything to me about it).

We started talking in December of our freshman year of high school. His cousins lived in the same neighborhood as one of my friends, and I started talking to them on AIM. Several weeks later, a second friend started talking to his cousins and then subsequently started talking to him. The two of them were crushing on each other. Because I was a 14 year old girl, it was basically a requirement for me to talk to my friends crushes. So I started talking to him. We talked on and off throughout the rest of the school year. He lived two hours away so we never hung out, just talked online. We didn't talk a whole lot that summer, but when school started back up we started talking again. A whole lot more. Over the next four to six months, he became my best friend. We talked about everything. My family "issues" his issues with various girlfriends, school, life, and pretty much anything else that came up. That February, he sent me a Valentine's Day card. It wasn't in a romantic way, just as a way to show me his appreciation for my friendship and for always being there for him. I realized when I got that card, though, that I had feelings for him. I had no intention of telling him, but that didn't last long. A few weeks later, we were talking and he could tell something was wrong. Of course he could, he was my best friend. We were able to detect little subtleties. It was kind of amazing, really. Eventually, I told him. He was surprised that I felt that way, but felt like because we lived two hours away, it wasn't realistic for us to be together (and it wasn't, we couldn't even drive yet). At the beginning of summer, I was away on church trips for two weeks and we only talked (I think) once in that period. When I got back, we got in a fight about who knows what. In an attempt to end the fighting, he asked me to marry him. Dumbfounded, I said "what?!" and then told him I wasn't going to answer that question. I promised him I would one day. On New Years Eve he was going to be in town and we were supposed to hang out for a few hours before I went to a party one of my friends was throwing. The plan was for him to call or text me when he was able to hang out, but he never texted me at all. Not even to say that he wasn't going to be able to hang out. I was mad. As in livid. I blew up at him the next day and he said he thought it would be better if he just left me alone. That lasted maybe two weeks. I couldn't handle it anymore. Things went back to how they were, more or less.

We finally met that August. August 1, 2006. I remember it like it was yesterday. We met up right off the interstate to go to a theme park that is about half way between where we lived. I thought it might be awkward since we had never met before even though we talked all the time, but it wasn't. It was like we had been friends forever. We spent the morning and early afternoon there before getting bored and leaving. We headed to some nearby outlets and shopped for a while before he took me back to my car and we both headed home. It was the perfect day in nearly every way. I do remember wishing we would have held hands (yes, I still liked him) but I wasn't mad that we didn't.

Procrastination

"Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task." - William James

The truth is, I am procrastinating right now like nobody's business. This is the third entry I've written this evening (the others are set to be published at later dates). I've got a presentation tomorrow evening that I desperately need to practice so I don't look like a complete idiot/so that I will make a good grade. But good gracious, I hate presentations with everything in me. I would write a paper over a presentation any day. I am also so super ready for the semester to be over. I'm taking next semester off (I had wanted to wait until next fall to start anyway but couldn't because of the way the program I'm in is set up). Hopefully it will allow me to work more hours and to explore some volunteer opportunities in my community. I'm always afraid to commit to stuff when I'm in school because my schedule and demands change so much from week to week. Frankly, though, if I would just stop procrastinating and just get assignments/homework/etc. over with, I would have PLENTY of time to do other activities.

America

"It's never paid to bet against America. We come through things, but it's not always a smooth ride." -Warren Buffet

I'm 22. Most A lot of my peers don't like America. They think it is a country of slow progress and greed. They want the government to provide everything. And yet, they won't leave. You wanna know why? Because America is exceptional. I don't really care if that's not politically correct. Political correctness often keeps people from saying what needs to be said. It's a way to keep people from speaking up against political corruptness. I love this country, and compared to other people my age that might be kind of weird (depending on where you are in the country). I have been, am, and will always continue to be thankful to be an American. Thankful to live in the most free country in the world. Do we have issues? Oh man, do we ever. But no country is perfect.

When I hear The Star Spangled Banner sung, I get chills. Even in the heat of a mid-July afternoon. It all just reminds me how much I love America and how glad I am that I get to be one of her citizens.

Letting Everything Out

Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit at home and think about it. Go out and get busy. -Dale Carnegie

The idea of this popped into my head recently. What idea, right? The idea to anonymously blog every (okay, maybe not EVERY) detail of my life. In a public place. Available for all the world to see. The things I would normally write in a private journal? I'll put them here. The things I don't talk about to the people in my life? They'll go here too. It will be an experiment of sorts. It may fail miserably, and if it does that will be fine. Mostly, it comes from my curiosity about people. How much people hide from the people they love. What if my being completely honest with total strangers allowed for other people to realize they are not alone? Or to understand that it is okay to talk about what is happening in their life? If that doesn't happen, that's okay too. I really just want to see where this goes, and to see how far I am able to push myself to be honest.

I have every intention to keep the reader from being able to figure out my identity. For now, at least.

I am not a writer. I don't claim to be one. What I write some days may be incredibly dull and drone on. It may be more exciting on other days. I just graduated with a B.S. in May. I have started grad school part time in a field that will (hopefully) lead to a job in a "helping" profession. I guess most things could be called a "helping" profession, so "helping" might be sort of an odd label, but eh. I work with upper elementary school aged children. I am living at home still, but am planning to move next August to be closer to school. By closer, I mean close enough not to have a commute that is between 90 and 120 minutes each way. I am the only child left at home, but I have older siblings/sibling-in-laws. I anticipate that I will have to make up nick names for them at some point because otherwise it will get confusing, but I have no intention of doing that right now because they are not the topic of this post.

Since I've told myself I'm letting everything out here, I guess that's what I'll do. In some ways, it's hard to write it because that means I have to admit it to myself. I'm a Christian, or at least that's what I claim. I fall short of what I should be pretty much all the time. I pray way less than I should, and read my Bible even less than that. It's been sitting on my stairs since the last time I went to church, which was 11 days ago. I have never been in a relationship. I struggle with my weight (though I am currently down about 20 pounds from mid/late July). I abruptly ended my relationship with my best friend in January for a variety of reasons. Mostly, I stopped being a priority (not for the first time, either) and because he was no longer a person I was able to trust. I rarely talk about it to anybody, but it's something I feel like I have to wake up and deal with almost every day. The reminders of him seem to be never ending, but it has gotten better. I don't have a lot of friends but I don't know of anybody that really can't stand me. I've been told I'm the least disliked person among my coworkers because of my even keel-ness. I equate this to having a personality like Los Angeles weather. The idea of this came from a book I read by Mary Pipher. When I read it, everything kind of made sense to me. Frankly, I'm probably kind of boring. I'm (mostly) okay with that.

None of that was too earth shattering, I don't guess. I may or may not keep pressing on. I don't know what I'll blog about next. I'm looking forward to it, though. I think.