Slamming Doors

Well, I'm done my fall semester, and Christmas break is officially here.  And here I am, two in the morning, lounging around in my room at the new house (which is FINALLY somewhat clean after coming home with all my college stuff to find it completely wrecked).  I'm weary and my body aches from cleaning and packing all day yesterday, and moving furniture and cleaning MORE when I got home.  But despite that, I feel completely at ease.  I'm not so much sleepy as I am relaxed. I feel like I'm floating, the sounds of the room coming to me kinda muted and mellow like I'm hearing it underwater.  The whirring of my laptop, and the planes flying nearby, and the soft snoring of my boyfriend from my floor where he crashed before making it to the couch, are all serving to lull me off into a contented state of total relaxation.  And right now I can't help but think about how wonderfully blessed my life has become, and how thankful I am for all the things, even the seemingly bad things, that led me to this place.  I'm starting to realize that sometimes even the most painful events can be a blessing in disguise.  That, had those painful things never happened, I would've never had the amazing things I have now.  It's almost funny to me: I had been so upset from being hurt, when getting hurt was the best thing that could have happened to me.  I thought I was losing something good, when really bad things were getting out of my life so that great things could happen.  I was foolish, and attempted with all my might to hold onto the things that weren't good for me.  Now, looking back, I'm so thankful that those doors were slammed in my face.  Because I'm kinda silly sometimes, and if they hadn't been closed for me, I would have gone through them.  And if I had gone through them, I would never have experienced this happiness I feel now.  Happiness I could never have gotten on the other side of the slammed doors.  The happiness may have come about from really painful stuff, but to me, this happiness was worth it.

Just Tell Me That You Still Believe

I wish I had a better understanding of people.  Sometimes, I even wish I could read minds.  I know, that would be a horrible superpower to have, and would backfire all the time.  Sometimes it is best to be oblivious, after all.  But sometimes, sometimes I stare at people and try my hardest to find out what people REALLY mean, what they REALLY think.  I think if I could read people's minds, and know what's really going on with someone, it would prevent me from saying the wrong thing, and hurting people and causing people to be mad at me.  I seem to do that a lot.  I've realized too late that I've already lost some of the most important people in my life, because I couldn't predict or be sure of what they were thinking. I've said stupid things and done stupid things and hurt them without realizing, and by the time I had a grasp on what was really going on, it was too late.  They were gone.  There aren't any second chances when it comes to stuff like this.  

The thing that makes it really sting is the little voice in my head that keeps reminding me that it's all my fault.  The pain I caused them, the pain I now feel at their absence, all of it could have been avoided, SHOULD have been avoided, if I had the ability to see things through eyes other than my own.  Even now, though I understand what my shortcoming was, I'm no closer to knowing how to fix it.  I still don't even know where to begin to know how to grasp another's thoughts.  And even now it's still causing problems.  I'm continually hurting one of the most important people to me, and I don't even know how to stop.  If I could just know what they were really thinking, I think I could figure it out.  But I don't know how to know.  I can't get that information from them.  People never tell you what they really, REALLY think, after all.  And the information I have gotten from them is so completely contradictory I don't know what's truth and what's false.  Shady actions and blatant horrid words strike me in the face, and my brain is telling me that they're lying when they feed you kind, placating words.  But then my heart speaks up and vehemently denies the possibility.  "They're there for you" it says.  This is someone who's had your back time and time again.  They've held you when you've cried and made you laugh when you didn't feel like being happy and they've said so themselves that they'll never leave you behind, that you're too important to them to abandon.

And then my brain speaks back up.  It calls my heart stupid and naive.  It reminds my heart of all the times they WEREN'T there for me.  Reminds of the darkest times, when they abandoned me when I needed them the most.  Reminds me of the contradicting stories and all the times I trusted and was let down and hurt again and again and again.  My brain tells me not to listen to my heart, reminds me of how broken I ended up whenever I had faith in them.  It begs me to run for my own good.  My heart begs me to stay for the same reason.

Both my brain and my heart have gotten me hurt before.  I no longer know which one to listen to, if I should listen to either.  I'm terrified to take action at all, honestly.  Every time I do, it's another mistake.  Will this next time, be the last?  Will the next mistake I feel almost certain I'll make be the one to tip them over the edge, and make them abandon me for good?  Can I prevent this from happening?  Everything I thought I knew about them has been completely upended, and I don't feel secure in knowing anything about them anymore.  


I'm terrified to try, and get destroyed again.  But I'm terrified to not try, and have them slip through my fingers.  But most of all I'm terrified because I don't know what to do.


Song of the Day:
Believe- Skillet


I'm still trying to figure out
How to tell you I was wrong
I can't fill the emptiness inside
Since you've been gone

So is it you or is it me?
I know I said things that I didn't mean
But you should've known me by now
You should've known me

If you believed when I said
I'd be better off without you
Then you never really knew me at all

If you believed when I said
That I wouldn't be thinking about you
You thought you knew the truth
But you're wrong

You're all that I need
Just tell me that you still believe

I can't undo the things
That led us to this place
But I know there's something more
To us than our mistakes

So is it you or is it me?
I know I'm so blind when we don't agree
But you should've known me by now
You should've known me

If you believed when I said
I'd be better off without you
Then you never really knew me at all

If you believed when I said
That I wouldn't be thinking about you
You thought you knew the truth
But you're wrong

You're all that I need
Just tell me that you still believe

Is it you or is it me?
I know I said things that I didn't mean
You should've known me by now
You should've known me

If you believed when I said
I'd be better off without you
Then you never really knew me at all

If you believed when I said
That I wouldn't be thinking about you
You thought you knew the truth
But you're wrong

'Cause you're all that I want
Don't you even know me at all?
You're all that I need
Just tell me that you still believe
 

my pledge to him

i won't use your shoe to kill the spiders.  

i will share my fries with you when you've 

finished all yours and are still hungry.  

i will eat the onions when we order the supreme pizza.  

i will not laugh when your tummy growls and 

gurgles, but will instead growl back. 

i will try my hardest not to be annoyed when 

you beat me at children's card games. 

i will be the big spoon sometimes.  

i will kiss your finger if you smoosh it in a door.

i will wear that lotion you like that you 

think smells really good. 

i will send you random texts and put silly gifts 

on your windowsill and leave you wondering

how i scaled the outside of your dorm 

to the fourth floor to do so.  

i will remind you to eat so you don't forget and

bake you lots of cookies when you do. 

i will let you win in mario kart and brawl.  

sometimes.  

other times, i will not.  

i won't ever smack you.  

i will always let you know i respect you, 

even when i'm teasing you.  

i will hold your hand.

i will like you a whole bunch.

Memos to Myself

Hey You.

Yes, You.  Stop being unhappy with yourself.  

You are perfect.  Stop wishing you looked like someone 

else or wishing people like you as much as they like 

someone else.  Stop trying to get attention from those 

who hurt you.  Stop hating your body, your face, 

your personality, your quirks:  love them.  Without 

those things, you wouldn't be you.  And why would you 

want to be anyone else?  Be confident with who you are.  

Smile: it will draw people in.  If anyone hates on you 

because of who you are, than stick your middle finger 

in the air and say "Screw it, my happiness will not depend 

on others anymore."  

I am happy because I love who I am.  

I love my flaws.  I love my imperfections.  They 

make me me.  And "me" is pretty amazing.

Copper Cupcakes

Whenever I'm upset, my favorite thing to do is bake.  Something about making cute cupcakes or that perfect pan of cornbread is somehow just so therapeutic for me.  I don't like being home alone at night, so whenever my mother would travel for meetings, I would stay up the entire night raiding the cabinets for ingredients, scouring the internet for recipes, and baking.  I'm not sure what it is about cooking that de-stresses me.  I think it's the concept of working with my hands, taking raw materials and combining them in ways that make something amazing in the end.


This is probably why I also love working at the anvil.  Making jewelry is actually my preferred outlet for stress.  The repetitive clang of metal clashing, the energy flowing through my body as I bring the hammer down in quick succession.  It is mindless work, a mechanical movement of my arms, yet at the same time I am sharply focused, molding the metal to my will to create a work of art.  The mindlessness of it helps me empty my mind of what is upsetting me, and being focused makes me hone in on something else, leaving no room to think about anything else but the weight of the hammer and the feel of hot copper against my hands.  Even though mindlessness and focus are contradictory, they seem to twine together into a moment of serenity when I'm working.


Unfortunately, though my thoughts keep me awake in the middle of the night, the neighbors definitely wouldn't appreciate the sound of my hammer awakening them from their rest at two in the morning.  So it's at these times that I turn to the kitchen.  I tend to feel at home in the kitchen (cue the age old joke about girls belonging in the kitchen).  It's true though.  I feel a sense of peace baking or cooking.  Maybe it's because cooking is something I taught myself.  I didn't grow up helping my mom cook or bake cookies like most girls did.  My family was pretty much "fend for yourself" when it came to food.  I had never even baked a batch of cookies from scratch until I was in high school.  Before that I had always scorned cooking.  I viewed it as "girly", and I wanted to stay as far from that adjective and the things I associated with it as I could.  When I finally realized how silly I was and gave baking a try, I found that I enjoyed it.  It was soothing.  I didn't really want to let people know I liked it though.  I wasn't good at it at first, and I used to get really discouraged because a lot of my friends were really good at baking, and I felt inferior because I wasn't.  I still get discouraged sometimes.


But as I continued to try and experiment, I learned and improved.  And as I improved, my self esteem improved too.  As a girl who, unfortunately, thrives on being told she did well, I am ecstatic every time someone tells me that they like what I make.  It makes me glow to know that I made something, and someone else enjoyed it.  Whether it's muffins I baked or a figure I made with clay, when I make something, and that something I made makes someone else happy, I am happy.

Lessons Learned

This summer was a summer full of lessons I needed to learn.  Some of them I learned, some of them I'm in the process of learning, and some of them I still am completely confused about, and am just going to hold on and hope I'll see what's going on eventually.  And all of the lessons were the hardest lessons I've ever had to learn.


Through the course of this summer, I learned that just because a relationship means something to you, doesn't necessarily mean that it means anything to the other party.  It doesn't matter how long the relationship has gone on, or how supposedly close you were to that person.  In the end, one critique could make them completely turn on you.  Throw you away like you're nothing.  Flip out and cause a scene just because you happened to be invited to the same gathering as they were.  With some people, it doesn't matter if there's enough good history between you to fill a thousand pages, and then a thousand more.  With some people, the moment you stop coddling them and bowing to their every idea and whim, they toss you away.


I learned that just because you were under the assumption that you were close enough to someone that you could point out a concern you had about them, doesn't mean you are actually close enough with that person to do so.  It doesn't matter if you've been extremely close for any impressive amount of time.  It doesn't matter if you pointed out that concern out of love, because you thought you knew they were better than that, and wanted to address the problem early before it became a character flaw.  It doesn't even matter if the person had previously done the same to you on multiple occasions, pointing out flaws in your personality and character that you weren't aware of, even ones that you didn't agree with but respected the opinion of the other anyways.  None of that matters, and some people will destroy you the moment you assume you're allowed to do the same.


I learned that you should never trust some people completely.  You should never be naive enough to think that some people have the best intentions at heart and will do right in the end.  You should never assume that some people are anything more than selfish creatures who would rip you to shreds and break your heart to get what they want or do what makes them feel better about themselves.  I learned that some people will use any excuse they can think of to justify destroying another human being's life, and explain away their actions until they have convinced themselves that they never did anything wrong.  


I learned that I'm a naive fool.  I believed some people didn't possibly have it in them to turn so completely against someone who had, at one point, been supposedly important to them.  I believed that some people weren't capable of being so completely callous as to throw away a relationship that was claimed to be so important to them at one point.  


I learned that some people are just disgusting people, who don't care about anyone but themselves, who will hurt you without remorse, and there's nothing you can do about it.


I'm still in the process of learning all of this.  I'm still broken right now.  It still hurts to know that I was so worthless to someone who was so important to me.  But as I work towards moving on, I'll become stronger.  I'll become wiser.  I'll become a better person.  And someday, I will find other people.  People who are worth having in my life.  People who won't throw me aside when they disagree with me.  People I won't have to coddle or bow down to or walk on eggshells around to keep them happy so they won't leave.  And someday I won't even think about the people before.   Someday, all this hurt will be behind me and they won't be able to touch me ever again.  I'm no where near that stage yet.  I'm still in the stage of feeling agony from all the pain their selfish actions caused.  But someday I will be okay.  And I'll be smart enough to not let such worthless people into my life again.

Musings at the Produce Stand

So, today at work I decided that every time I got a lull in customers, I would write something.  Whether it be about my day, something I'd been thinking about, or what, didn't matter.  This is what I came up with.  I left the grammar and spelling mistakes for the most part the same way it was when I scrawled it out.  The ellipsis note where I stopped that train of thought and went to work with customers.


...So, I don't even know why I'm writing this.  Maybe it's because I'm sitting at the produce stand at the hottest freaking day of the year in a summer dress I haven't worn since I was 15, completely bored out of my mind.  Maybe it's because I'm refraining from playing my DS at the stand because my sales numbers are down and since I can't park my car out front to show I'm here and I refuse to try and hide where the produce comes from if the customer asks (because EVERYONE on the Eastern Shore knows anyway that strawberry season is way over and those are definitely Driscoll's), I have to try other methods of trying to get customers to buy, one of which so happens to be sitting out front of everything trying to look studious by writing in a notebook instead of leveling up my Ampharos.  Or maybe it's because I'm freaking stressed and have a lot going swimming through my mind and maybe if I write it all down it will get out of my mind and stay on paper and I can fill my mind with fun things instead.  Or, maybe it's all three...








...A lot has happened and a lot of time has passed since I've last written anything, be it in blog form or written out on paper or otherwise.  One of the first big things that happened to me recently is my dog died.  For those unfortunate enough to have never met him, Buddy was the most beautiful English blonde yellow lab to ever frolick the Eastern Shore.  He was short and stocky and quirky and twerpy and cheeky as all get out, just like the young lady who was lucky enough to have him as her best friend.  All through my school years, he grew with me, from a playmate in elementary school because the only kids who lived around me were boys with cooties, to middle school and early high school where he was always happy to see me, even if I was an awkward teenager with a bad haircut.  But as a new chapter in my life was starting to begin, the last chapter of his life was starting to end.  Tumors started growing in every major organ in his body except his right kidney.  By my sophomore year of college, the cancer spread to his brain, and the seizures started.  For weeks at a time, I slept downstairs in the living room so I could hear when he had a seizure and could sit with him at 3 in the morning to comfort and assure him in the confusion and temporary blindness and deafness that would occur after his seizures.  This lasted until April, when we decided that it was time.  At this point, the cancer had also spread to his lungs and throat and the tumors often prevented him from breathing.  Easter Monday, we took him into the vet first thing in the morning; on the way there one of the worst breathing fits he'd had yet started, and by the time we got to the vet he was no longer able to walk.  Two vet techs rush out to get him and rushed him into the back room and immediately attached an oxegyn mask to keep him alive long enough for them to find out who we were and what was going on.  I remember being bothered because Buddy never liked having his nose touched and the oxygen mask went around his snout and I could tell it bothered him.


Most euthenizations are done in this nice, comfy room with couches and mats on the floor so you can sit with your pet as they peacefully lull into slumber eternal.  Buddy left us heaving for air on a cold, metal table with something touching his nose.  We went home and I spent the rest of the day getting up the nerve to get rid of his dish bowls and wishing I had taken more pictures of him.  I don'r really remember much else looking back on spring right now, and summer too has blurred into one big, stressful mess...








...Apparently, Buddy wasn't the only best friend I was to lose this year.  It all started with hurt feelings, which ended up hurting more feelings.  Miscommunication and refusal to communicate caused more hurt, and pairing that with anger and insecurity and assumptions and demands, it escalated to the point that, when I tried to talk her into us trying to fix it, she had already become bitter to the point of deciding that I wasn't worth enough, that I didn't have enough to offer a friendship, to bother trying to fix things with.  It ended with her deleting me from her life, and from what she's acted like in front of me thus far, a blatantly obvious frigid demeanor whenever I'm in her presence.  This sucks because a group of us, she and I included, are going to a convention less than a week away.  Her determination to be obviously and openly cold-hearted towards people she doesn't like who are around her, while before was a good tactic for getting people to leave us alone, now just promises to make for a painful weekend for me and an uncomfortably awkward weekend for those who have found themselves caught in the middle.  currently, my game plan is, if I can even get a ride up there anymore, to split off and do my own thing.  Because being around her is sure to end up going bad, and our issues with each other have already ruined too much of my summer to ruin my convention experience too...








...One good thing about all this, is I am perhaps even more excited about going back to Liberty University. than I was before.  Just 24 more days, and I will be headed back to Liberty.  Totally worth the 12:00 curfew to leave all this drama behind.  And I'm going to be in East Campus to boot!  I really wish I had listened to Henry brag about East all those times he did, because I still haven't the slightest clue what to expect from it.  I'm also kinda worried about space.  I know there's just gobs more space in East than main dorms, but it IS still asking three girls to share one closet.  And it's really got me nervous because it is three girls with the impression that there is going to be a lot of space.  That the thing about us girls:  if there is free space, we can find a way to fill it with stuff.  Another reason the whole space thing makes me nervous is because yeah, we have more space and storage than main campus, but we also have a lot of stuff we totally wouldn't be using in Main dorms.  We've got freaking pots and pans and cookie sheets and a blender and a rice cooker and a Foreman grill and just a LOT of stuff.  I just have to wonder, is there room?  I also have a feeling my metalwork won't go over too well with the others on East Campus.  I mean, I'll admit myself that the sound of a hammer hitting an anvil is pretty darn grating on the ears.  I wish there was an out-of-place place I could work.  Maybe I can convince one of the boys that a great way to keep themselves in shape for their respective military branch is for them to lug 60+ pounds of tools on a hike up to the monogram for me so I can work where I won't be disturbing an entire row of apartments.  Because I sure as heck know there's no way I can get those tools up there myself...








...So, right now there's a pretty slow lull at the stand.  No one has come around for maybe the last 35 minutes at the stand.  It was pretty busy this morning, busier than usual, but I still don't think I will sell out of anything.  I have to admit, I'm nervous about my job.  I don't sell as much as everyone else for some reason, so I have a feeling my days are going to be REALLY cut in August, which I really just can't afford.  I have a feeling a sizeable part of it is the fact I don't have a car here since I don't drive.  So even though the stand is set up and such, if they don't see a car parked outside, I guess they assume we took a quick break or changed shifts or something.  I'm trying to sit out where people driving by can see me, but if they aren't looking when they pass because they assume I'm not there then that won't really do much.  I really need to sell a lot today though.  I'm depending on getting several days in the beginning of August.  I leave for college August 16th, so I only have about two weeks with which I can work.  If I only get like a day each week, then I'm beyond screwed.  Let's just hope that if that happens then at least the jewelry business will pick up quickly when I start it when I go back to Liberty.  I should also definitely look into working more with pearls and crystals, since that is traditional bridal fare, and Liberty is exploding with traditional brides.  It would be a great customer base, and I feel a whole lot better about customers seeing the product before buying instead of ordering online and their being the risk of them not liking it like they liked pictures of it.  It would also get rid of the hassle of selling and buying online.  Like shipping costs.  Freaking shipping costs, man...








...So, there's this bee that has been chilling on my tip jar for the past 45 minutes.  It's actually pretty freaking adorable.  He points his antennas towards you when you come near, but so far nothing has made him want to move.  People have even thrown money in my tip jar trying to get him to react, which is a plus for me because hey, it means more money in my tip jar.  He's just sat there, for the past 45 minutes, shifting around and cleaning his antenna and just being gosh darn cute.  I guess it's just too hot to collect pollen today.  But somewhere's there's gonna be a Queen Bee pretty peeved her worker bee chose to slack off and hang out with me today...








...Just another hour and a half before I can start packing up, go home, and cool off.  I can do this.  Heat, you ain't got nothing on me!!!!...








...Man, I really hope I can arrange a ride for Otakon in time.  That really has me worried.  I pretty much only have one option I know of at this point, and I've asked twice but haven't heard back on the matter yet.  On the one hand, I don't even want to go at this point.  Not really.  It has been such a stressful crap-fest of stupid so far trying to get things figured out for it, and my entire time there is probably going to be dampered anyway by the same things what has made planning so stressful.  On the other, I kinda really really want to go.  I want to go and gawk at the brilliant cosplays and laugh at the horridly done cosplays and go around all the booths and browse all the stuff they have for sale and get ideas and be inspired by it all.  I've never been, and I've heard so many wonderful things about it, and I want to experience it for myself, dangit...








...I really wish I wasn't such a burden on my friends all the time.  I have to rely on them on so many things, namely rides.  I hate that what I can and can't do, and where I can and can't go often depend on whether or not a friend can give me a ride there.  It is fair to anyone, especially them.  I worry they feel like they have to offer to give me a ride even if it isn't convenient for them, just because I can't take myself anywhere.  Sometimes I feel less like a friend and more like a dependent.  Friends are equals; friends are give and take.  And because I can't drive I'm constantly taking and taking and I can't give rides back.  If one of my friends is in a tight spot or needs someone to come to them, I can't do it.  And it complicates what should be simple situations.  It really makes me sad...

Beauty May Be in the Eye of the Beholder, But the Beholder Reads CosmoGirl and Expects a Size Two

I have to admit, I have a bit of an inferiority complex.  I also have to say that it's no surprise I do.  I'm a bit different than most of the girls I grew up with.  I'm short for my age, with a long torso, which makes my legs even more obviously short.  I'm also built stockier than most girls, with broad shoulders.  The broad shoulders and stocky build help hide a lot of the excess weight I have, and lets me to wear said weight far better than most people in my weight range, but the extra pounds are still there.  I also have rather drab brown hair, that used to be almost black at times.  When paired with my almost pasty pale skin, my hair makes me look washed out and sallow.  My mouth is a bit too small, my head and feet are too big, and my face is too long.


All of these things I learned about myself, because at some point someone told me it was so.


All my life, it was always the other girls and how they all looked, then me. When I was very small, I was picked on because my hair was too dark and I had glasses.  Around 6th grade, I started developing before the other girls. Where the other girls were still scrawny or childishly chubby, I started curving out in ways the others weren't yet.  It was weird.  I was weird.  And the others let me know I was weird every chance they got.


Things stayed the same in middle school school.  Even if they didn't remind me everyday, it was still painfully obvious walking into my classroom that I was the odd one out.  By middle school, my classmates had discovered hair dye and tanning oil.  The other girls, many of which were naturally blonde already, were now blonder and tanner than before.  I wasn't allowed to dye my hair and didn't really want to be tan, so pale and dark haired I stayed.  My classmates were pretty girls, who wore pink and applied nice make-up and did their nails and styled their hair and were fashionable and feminine.  I was the odd one, all long dark hair and pale skin and gunmetal jewelry.  I was the rocker in the small town, the punk of the class where everyone else was a prep school country girl. In high school, I wasn't picked on so much, but it was still painfully obvious where I stood.  I ate lunch alone.


In 10th grade, I made my first friend in school.  She was weird too.  We sat together at lunch, at a separate table than the others.  In 11th grade, I met my best friend, another weirdo.  The three of us ate lunch together, separated from the others.  This was the school year that one of my teachers told the class that she wanted her daughter to dye her hair blonde again because dark hair and pale skin look horrible together.  I was sitting in the front row, a seat to the right.  Everyone looked at me, and the teacher gave a hastily put together apology and said something along the lines of "it's not that way for everyone, of course."  I told her I didn't mind and knew she didn't mean it, and class went on as normal.  That day I went home and cried.  In 12th grade I said I was considering getting a lip ring, and another girl called me trashy and goth for it.  I was upset I was called trashy.  The teacher was more upset I was called goth, because for a small Christian school, being called goth is more insulting than being called trashy.  At my senior formal, my best friend, her date and I were seated at a small table that had been separated from the rest of the students.


I graduated high school, and had never been called beautiful.


Upon arriving at college, I cut and dyed my hair.  I made friends, far more easily than I expected I would, and had the time of my life.  People opened up to me, instead of shunning me for my weirdness.  Then I found out I wasn't weird, just awesome.  I found out that it wasn't considered gross for a girl to play video games and that my opinion mattered even if I chose to wear black t-shirts and jeans instead of pink and frills.  I found out that it's okay that I'm not as feminine as the other girls, that it's okay for me to prefer romping around the woods and getting stuck in trees I was brave enough to climb, but too terrified to get out of.  I didn't have to be like everyone else.


At the end of the year I returned to my old high school for my best friend's graduation.  People were amazed at my appearance.  They called me beautiful, said I looked amazing.  The very people who had once thought me less than plain.


Did my face change so much in a year?  Did a box of red hair dye, a haircut, a dress, and a pair of high heels really make so much of a difference as to bridge the gap between homely and stunning?


Of course not.  The dress, and hair dye, and high heels, and make-up wasn't what made me beautiful.  I shone that night because since leaving there, I had been called lovely.  I had been told I had the most beautiful eyes someone'd ever seen.  I had been praised for my beautiful dark hair and my porcelain skin.  I had been told my laugh was infectious, and that my smile could light up a room.  I finally came out of my shell, and captivated those around me.


I still get insecure sometimes.  It's hard not to, with the media pushing images of starved women down my throat.  It's hard when fashion deems my size "Extra Large".  It's even hard when I stand next to my friends and all of them are tall and skinny and model gorgeous and I'm constantly looking up to them, and them down at me.


But that doesn't really matter anymore.  Because now, now I know that even with my faults, or maybe because of them, I'm beautiful.

In Other News...

Oh dear, it would appear my Eternal Rival seems to believe he's worth enough of my time to hate.  I'm sorry you were so misled, dear sir.

The Beginning

Oh dear, I appear to have started a blog on a friend's whim.  Here I sit, with a glass of milk and nothing to write about.  How awkward.


Well I guess I'll start with telling you (the reader) a little about myself (the blogger).  Let's see... I'm a college student studying psychology, I have a cat (I used to have another cat, but just this day she was given away.  I'm still om nom nommin' on chocolate chips to make myself feel better about it).  When I'm not shuffling around in tall grass fighting Pokemon, level grinding in the woods before the final boss, or doing the same old thing with my friends and not getting tired of it, I make Polymer clay and wire jewelry that [cue shameless plug] I sell online with a friend at our online shop JasuraDesigns on Etsy at http://www.etsy.com/people/JasuraDesigns [end shameless plug]


Now that all that boring stuff is done, I guess I'll do five interesting facts about myself.  Or maybe they aren't interesting at all.  Or maybe some will find them interesting, and some won't care.  Would that make them semi-interesting?  Okay then, here we go:


My Five Semi-Interesting Facts About Myself:


1.) Of my many, many fears (including heights, the dark, closed spaces, and mannequins), one of the things I'm most frightened of is parking garages.  I'm not particularly sure why this is.  It's rather weird, but when I enter one I start panicking and cry.  It's rather embarrassing, actually, and I feel awkward every time I go to the doctor because we have to park in one and I end up all jumpy and puffy-eyed in the doctor's office.


2.)  I adore playing video games.  I'm a binge gamer with game systems, where I pick up a game and play non-stop, not remembering to stop and eat or drink something or sleep for about four or five days, or until I get stuck, and then I set the game down and don't touch it for a few months.  With handhelds I'm a bit more consistent.  I'll pick up and play my handheld for at least a half hour a day, some days as much as seven hours a day.  I guess I'm more consistent with handhelds because they're much more convenient, easily carried with you and they don't need to be plugged into a t.v. and such.


3.)  For all that I adore video games, I'm rather terrible at them.  I hardly ever finish one.  Never finished a Legend of Zelda game, never finished a Final Fantasy Game (unless you actually count X-2, which most people don't).  I'm rather mediocre for a gamer, and always reach a point where I get thoroughly stuck and end up either stopping the game or getting someone to clear that part for me (thank you, Kev, for beating up the sky temple for me!).  I usually end up just stopping though.  I also am more likely to finish a handheld game than a system game, probably because I play them more consistently.


4.)  I have an Eternal Rival.  His name is Mr. Collier.  He seems to believe this blog does not exist.  He also seems to believe that I wouldn't have anything interesting to blog about.  And he's right.  I don't have anything interesting to blog about.  Unfortunately for Mr. Collier, he's one of my uninteresting things I'm talking about for lack of something interesting to talk about.  Anyways, I do I am owed an apology by Mr. Collier for doubting my blog's existence.  And it's your move, kid.


5.)  Oh drat.  I can't think of anything else.  Hmmm...  Well, up until last fall I worked at a dog boarding kennel.  I started working there in the beginning of high school, and I couldn't imagine a better high school part time job.  It was exhausting, and tough, and rewarding.  Like me. :)


Well, one of the reasons I started this blog is because a close friend told me she started a blog, and something in her blog stuck out to me.  She talked about how she decided to get into Magic: the Gathering.  She didn't do this because she had wanted to, but because her boyfriend was interested in it, and she wanted to try to understand his interests to understand him better, and be closer to him.  And I thought that's really cool.  It also got me thinking, and made me realize that I'm rather close-minded when it comes to stuff my friends are interested in.  I have the tendency to repeatedly turn down invitations to play a game with my friends because I don't know how to play, and/or am not interested in learning.  And that's not very fair of me.  They aren't just inviting me to play a game, they're inviting me to spend time with them, get to know a part of them.  And I've been turning it down.  So, I've decided to take on a bit of a challenge, and for each of my close friends, I'll try and get into something they really like.  I may try it and end up loving it, I may try it and end up hating it and never do it again,  but I'm done not giving something new a chance.  I'm going to start with studying up on the rules for the Yugioh card game (even if this game is a load of bullocks).  I hope that by doing this, it will open me up and help me stop losing valuable bonding time with friends because I don't like the activity.  And who knows, maybe I'll get a few new favorite hobbies.


Comment Question of the Day:   Is there something you've either wanted to try, and never did, or feel you should try?  What is it?