{Latch.}

{Latch.}

            I'm constantly intrigued looking back at my life at all the places I thought I would have been by now.  Most of my subconscious list is still untouched, and yet, internally, oh the places I have been, the things I have seen.  Maybe my journey was never meant to be one of distant miles, but a journey of internal proportions.  For that is the journey I seem never to stray from its path.  I'm constantly thinking about things.  Everything.  I look up in the sky every single day and think 'God, it is so beautiful.'  I literally lose my breath at the sight of the ocean and I am taken by the people I interact with.  I find myself lingering on them hours after they've left, years after they've passed.  My thoughts wrapped up so much in people that can't give me anything at all sometimes.  I'm closer to my sister in her death, than I think I ever was when she was alive.   I rely on her more today then I ever let her know when I could.  My mind spins at what I'm supposed to take away from the notion that I could be closer to someone in their death than I could be when they were standing right in front of me for twenty-three years of life before that.  Does that say something about the person that I was, or the person that I've become?  And in either case, am I pointing out flaws in my character or strengths?  A small testament to the walk I take daily through the twists and turns of grief and the stumbles and falls of personality building.  I change every single day.  The way I look at things, the way I react to people and what I take away from each of them.  I'm harder on myself than anyone I meet could ever try to be.  I rip myself apart for the way I wish things would happen, and the grace I wish I walked with more often.  These things I latch onto my sister for.  She had them all.  A beauty I really think so many saw, and something she rarely lacked, if at all.  If I could be just a trace of the person I think she was, God, the person I would be.  Sometimes I even beat myself up for longing for those parts of her as well.  I think 'Why are you so weak?'  She struggled.  We all do.  We all do.  I couldn’t even explicitly list off to you what I think her struggles were.  I think if I tried I'd be pretty close to right, things I silently noticed about a girl I spent all of my life with.  But is it something we sat and talked about, no.  Just as she could totally do the same for me.  She's in heaven laughing at the struggle I still try and deny daily in my quest for a life content, in one where I throw my hands up to the mercies of an over-analytical minded girl fighting with the 'but maybe's', and the 'is that what they REALLY meant' struggles I'm constantly arguing with inside, in moments I should relish in all that I don't know, but want to.  The uplifting part of me tries to remind that I am vulnerable, not weak.  I hold onto things that I should let go, because part of me wants to wait for the moment that those people turn to me and want to hold on as well.  It may never come.  The strong parts of me knows that.  I'll still hold on.  I love my life.  I love every minute of my life.  The difficult moments are hard.  So damn hard.  And still, smiling or crying, I'll walk or crawl away with something to roll about in my mind for a few days, a million days.

Truth be told, there are so so many things I lack as a person, so many things I'm desperately trying to learn.  I can't explain why I hold onto the things that I do.  Why I cherish moments with certain people,that they may not note in their lives at all… I do know, that it is those moments that have brought something to my life.  Sometimes I think we hold onto things because whilst the lesson is hard and usually painful, the knowledge is still needed.

    That’s what I think life is all about.  Exploring who we think we are, what we think should be, and in reality what we lack and latch onto just to get through…

            Your struggle is your own, and probably mine, but we are special and lovely for taking the time to recognize that it's building something in us, for something, one day, we may just figure out. 

…

             

Song Sparrow, Sing Me A Song...

For Ash

     My sister loved birds. I teased her about it a lot. What an odd thing for a twenty four year old to start loving and collecting. Girls our age collect stories of late nights downtown with friends, shot glasses from cities they’ve visited, shoes. Sixty year old women collect birds. Since she’s passed away, I’ve found a love for all things feathered. It’s made me feel close to her in a way A chance to build on the collection that she isn’t able to finish. We split her quaint collection of birds between my mother and sister. I moved into my apartment, with two bird figurines, and a tiny tattoo of a bird with ‘Ash’ floating above it. In the months since my sister’s death, I’ve waited to see her again. I don’t explicitly know how the next life works, and I’m definitely navigating my new life without her, completely lost most days. I’ve been praying and waiting for some time with her. In the weeks after her death, I waited for beautiful dreams of her in heaven. Even beautiful dreams of things we had once done together, but those dreams haven’t come. Any dreams really. I’ve felt spiritual disconnect unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I look for her in everything that I do. Sometimes I even wonder if I think about her too much. Eight months since she left us, and coming up on what was supposed to be our twenty fifth birthday together, I’ve been feeling a sense of hopelessness in my quest to be closer to her. I’ve said it over and over again, but I’m an analyzer of all things, and for what might be the first time in my life; and what will probably be the most significant , my analyzing (and Ash I’m quite certain) brought me to tears in a beautiful way this past week.
     I’ve been living by myself since April, and have been glittering this apartment with memories of her. My room has been my last project, and the walls have been bare for the four months I’ve lived here. Do I put pictures of her up? Will that just make me sad? I haven’t known what to do with the space at all, and in all the years I lived with Ash, she was the decorator of our lives. And even now, I am learning she still is. Last week I went to California with my family. We visited the Redwoods of Northern California. I was overwhelmed with tears as I walked down trails, and climbed on trees. Ash and I once ran through those trails together. Summer after summer, hiding from each other; we’d climb and explore the fallen trees. I have amazing memories of time spent there with her. As I walked and listened, all I could focus on were birds. The sky was a pretty blue that day, and despite my crying, it was just a beautiful and bright day. This really isn’t that significant, given my obsession with them since her death, but there on the trails I decided I should somehow incorporate this into something for my walls that would make me happy, while still incorporating her love of birds We left and drove to Monterrey, California and stumbled on an amazing antique store. I felt a fire inside of me to find something in this store for Ash. Two problems, huge store…closing in fifteen minutes. I managed to grab two ‘Bird and Nature Magazines’ from 1906 and a beautifully famed piece of wall paper with a bird on it. I actually loved the framed picture, and it had some blue in it. The magazines, if anything, were old and might make for some interesting faded wall hangings. When I finally made it home to Texas, I began to thumb through the magazines. Instantly, I was disappointed. I was expecting lots of cool bird pictures, and what I got was scientific looking fold out diagrams for the most part. Until page 23. A story titled ‘The Song Sparrow’, opened with this,

     ‘While men are speculating on the truth of the statement, that “wealth lessens, rather than increases, human happiness,” the ecstatic notes of the song sparrow are offering ample proof that , in the bird-world at least, happiness is not dependent upon fine feathers or luxurious quarters. During the cheerless winter days, although his dusky little form is indistinct among the dead leaves of the frozen thicket, this brave bird sends a thrill of joy through every heart, as his song, clear and rapturous, rises above the hoarse moan of the wintry wind, and mingles with the snowflakes.’

You can imagine the tears streaming down my face. The only thing in my mind as I was reading this, was Ash. These words were floating off of the page at me. Everything, I’ve ever thought about her was here on this page, in a magazine about what she loved…and someone else wrote it in 1906. I kept reading, only to find more proof that Ash wanted me to see her. Not in a dream as I had imagined, but in her own free spirited, not so blatant way.

     A poem by Henry Van Dyke,

‘With darker patches at his throat, And yet of all the well dressed throng, Not one can sing so brave a song. It makes the pride of looks appear, a vain and foolish thing, to hear his sweet, sweet, sweet, very merry cheer. A lofty place he does not love, but sits by choice, and well at ease, in hedges and the little trees. That stretch their slender arms above. The meadow brook; and there he sings, till all the field with pleasure rings; And so he tells in ever ear, that lowly homes to heaven are near, in sweet, sweet, sweet, very merry cheer.’

Still balling, and still thumbing, Ash ended our evening with this,

Here Be My Loves

By John Vance Cheney

Here by my loves among the feathered things


The angels lend their tunes to, and their wings.

The lowly sparrows, cradled on the ground,

To hear earth’s heart, and sing that happy sound;

The thrushes, they of melody so pure

Whether ‘tis earth’s or heaven’s I am not sure;

Why I thought it would all come so easy, I’m not sure. Nothing about this journey has been easy, and I don’t think it will be. I’ll be dealing with her death for the rest of my life. Little moments like this one are what make me believe that though it feels impossible at times to acknowledge, there is most definitely a God far greater than anything I can completely comprehend. I understand Ash’s love for birds now more than I ever did when she was still alive. And now I know in fact, these things really aren’t that random at all, but probably exactly as they were supposed to be. In reading these words, I can only imagine what her new life must be like, but I think her love and connect with the bird-world as this passage describes, go hand in hand…or feather in feather if you will. I love you sister, Happy Birthday to the most beautiful girl I know, and the one I miss and love so much!

Chronicles With Coping...Or Something Like It. Chapter Two.

Okay Mind, I Don't Know What You Want Me To Do With All Of These Feelings...

     Coming up on three months, and I don't know that I've found my way to a good place yet.  I'm somewhere in between functioning and acknowledging. At this point, I kind of feel like I'm just getting through the days and hanging on to routine.  There is a growing stack of self help books next to my bed, and yet I can't even venture to open them.  The sight of one, honestly brings tears to my eyes.  Part of me thinks, 'No, you're not ready for this', but I think the more accurate statement is 'No, you don't want to deal with this, and reading this book is sort of dealing with this.'  Maybe it's not, I don't even know anymore.  As always, I'm finding comfort in music, some days it is the only place I find comfort.  My life is one big contradiction right now.   Somedays, I wake up thinking, I'm okay.  I understand and I have so much to remember about Ash, so much to be thankful for.  I mean God, I'm sitting here writing this, how can I even utter a complaint, or feel anything but grace for all that I still get to have?  However on most days, my whole being says, 'Are You Kidding?!  Get back in bed, and stay there, you are allowed, and no one will mind. The idea that someone is going to be able to tell me how I am supposed to be feeling and what I can do to cope, is lost on me.  I realize I'm not the only girl whose ever lost a twin sister, and yet all of me feels like, yes I am.  No one will ever know or understand this loss. This feeling.  A huge part of me has just shut down.  My life is a really awkward exchange of completely carefree times with my friends, to a complete lack of understanding of myself and what this situation has brought into all of our lives.  At times I feel like I have no connect.  My friends are having these beautiful dreams about Ash.  I am not.  I think I'm struggling with that a lot.  Honestly, I couldn't tell you the last time I had a dream that I remembered, but to not be dreaming about her, when I feel she is all that is on my mind at any given moment.  It's sad for me.  I want that to be a way I can cope,  to be laughing in my sleep with her.  I've never understood less about how my mind works and the motions I'm going through, than this moment now.
     My mom wishes I were dating more, to get my mind off of things, and all  I can think is that I am a girl with some serious emotional baggage right now...and who wants that?  Its a lot to ask someone to take on.  I don't even want to deal with it, but I don't get a choice.  I don't even know how to answer simple questions like 'How many brothers and sisters do you have?'  I go from juggling how to answer  little things like that to wondering how I will incorporate her into my wedding as the 'Maid of Honor' she was supposed to be.  I don't want to even think about how our birthday will be.  I'm not ready for it to just be my birthday.     I'm reading my journals a ton right now, and entries like this are keeping me going.
     'Ash is still amazing as always, and is coping well.  The girl is so so strong.  I really can't put it into any other words.  I love my days with her, even if we are just sitting in her hospital room...usually I'm watching her make jewelry or paint.  Mainly because she is simply amazing at it, and I can't compete.  I've tried, but while she's whipping out some fantastic, beautiful, necklace...I'm staring at an open box of beads wondering how I'm going to use every color in the box and still make it look cute.  And those stupid little tools you have to use to clamp together a tiny piece of chain...yeah, I'm not good at that either.  So I just sit and watch her, we talk about food a lot...haha.  Mostly about things we wish we could cook...and if the hospital allowed, I bet she'd be able to whip it up in her room.  I'd probably watch that too, and be the official taste tester of course.  We talk a lot about our plans for when she gets out of the hospital, and most days I force her to listen to stories about my class.  Most days she ends with a ' Thanks for sitting with me, I had fun with you.'  We are best friends, and we've honestly spent the last twenty four years of our lives together, day to day.  And yet, I don't know that we've ever been closer, or enjoyed each other more than we are right now.'
    I wrote this three weeks before Ash passed away.   'Ash' dangles around my neck daily, it is tattooed on my ribs forever, I have this unbelievable need to keep her spirit current, and reminders of her with me constantly. Testament to the place I know I am trying to get in my grieving.

Chronicles With Coping...Or Something Like It.

The Superficial Blur Of Things. Chapter One.


I've been feeling the need to write for weeks now.  Only I haven't known where to begin, what to say, or even what it is that I am feeling.  Part of me is scared of what will come out, if I really allow myself to sit down and admit to all that I know is lingering, all that I havent allowed myself to answer inside.  'Did she know I loved her', 'Was she scared?'.  It's a weird internal struggle with myself daily.  If I let my mind wander, there is no limit to where it will go.  That is a scary notion knowing that for every question I have to rely on everything but Ash as a source for the answer.  I find myself getting mad for even thinking about what her last moments could have been like, because truthfully speaking, the phrase alone is still troubling.  As we were getting ready to move down to ICU, I couldnt help but be angry.  A nurse came in and hugged me, which made me mad too.  One, because perhaps I should have known, but her name was lost to me.  And two, why are you hugging me?  What does that mean?  I read into everything.  Perhaps she was just trying to comfort someone way too young to be going through all of this, and in hindsight, I am sure this was probably the case, but as a nurse, what do you know that I don't?  By the time we got down to ICU, I was in silent tears.  Ash was already in her special place, she was really good at this.  When things on any given day would hurt, or get scary, she would close her eyes, and let her  mind take her somewhere while the nurses did what they needed to do.  Still, even with her eyes closed, and her form of meditation happening, I didnt want to let her see me crying.  I didnt want her to know that I was scared, and really I dont know if I was scared or overwhelmed.  I needed her to think that this was just like everyother trip we'd made down to ICU, becuause at this point ICU had become regular for us.  Only, this was not the same.  I waited in the waiting room for almost an hour, alone.  As a nurse walked me in to see Ash, she asked that I not talk to her, because she needed to concentrate on breathing.  There were tears in her eyes, all I could do was wipe them away.  I wanted to pick her up and run out of there.  I held her hand as she began to mime all that she wanted to tell me.All I can remember thinking, is 'this is not what twenty four year olds should be dealing with.'  I souldnt be gathering up my twin sisters few neccesities for yet another few days in ICU.  I should be helping her find her shoes, her car keys, as we head out the door on our way to Trudy's for a martini and probably a stuffed avocado.  And yet leaving the hospital early that morning, there was no doubt in my mind that after a few hours of rest, I'd be back in ICU, joking with her about her attractive nurse.  Even my mother's unexpected call to come back to the hospital didnt really cross my mind as that odd.  I knew Ash was having a hard time, but with all that we've been through, for this to be the end, didnt even cross my mind.  Ash passed away on Sunday December 12, 2010, with Leukemia.  Of all the most frustrating things, its not even the Leukemia that brought her life to an end.  Pneumonia and a lung infection, that doctors could not get a grasp on.  Seriously?
I havent stopped in three weeks, on the go all the time.  Mostly because when it is quiet, there is time to think, and for now I'm not quite ready to think about it all.  I wasnt ready for Ash to go, not that its something I could have ever been ready for...but utterly and completely unprepared doesnt even begin to explain it.  Emotionally, I've never felt more alone.  It's weird to be completely surrounded by loving people and feel like you can't put into words anything beyond the superficial 'thank you', and 'i'll let you know if i need anything.'  Who am I kidding?  There is a lot that I need right now, but I wouldnt even know what to ask for, nor that its even something you could give.  I can barely process what I am feeling, assuming that I'm even allowing myself to scratch the surface of all that is to come.  I don't know that I ever completely let people into my life.  Not the way you are supposed to anyway.  At one time I'd venture to say I was an open person, but in reality, I'm extremely guarded in all that directly relates to how I'm feeling.  I don't know why, and I don't know where it comes from, but for me, to open up to an extent, is to turn over control.  Control of what I'm feeling, and control of how those feelings are used.  If I hold onto it all, deal with it somehow, there are no unknowns.  The only person I've never had to let in to get everything about the person I am has been Ash.  I turn to her when things are hard, and I don't know what to do.  So to now be faced with this, and she's not there to turn to... I am at a loss.  Something that's been there my whole life, I will never have again.  Its not even a relationship I can begin to mimic with someone else.  The permanence of it all is setting in, and at night is when I feel it the most.

Who Knew Playing Teacher Would Lead To This!

     Welp, student teaching is off to a fantastic start.  I LOVE IT.  I mean, I didnt have any question that I would.  For once, I am sure of something in my life...and for me there is no other place than with these kids.  I'm loving the unlimited access to butcher paper and dye cutters.  The laminating machine is like a shrine to all the wonderful file folder games I'm creating, most likely to be un-usable after one year of teaching...and still, i.love.it. These kids are falling at my feet for hugs and finding gold in a freshly sharpened pencil from my desk.  I asked one little boy to at least stay in line if he was going to dance on the way to class pictures.  His response?  

Student:  "Oh you fancy huh?  Oh you fancy huh?"  

Me:  I mean I'm kind of dressed up I guess?  It's picture day!  You're supposed to be fancy.  Right? 

Student: "Nail done, hair done, everything did..."

     He just kept saying it over and over again, and finally when he started popping the collar of his shirt, it all clicked.  He was singing Drake's new song Fancy.  My nails and hair were done, so you can understand why I was confused...oh and he's six!  Ahh the little things.

    On Friday we had a school wide assembly to kick of a fundraiser we're starting next week, and there was a surprise performance from the 5th grade girls talent group...appropriately named 'The Superstars'. They sang Ke$ha's Tik Tok, only they brush their teeth with a bottle of water, not Jack.  And they arent trying to get tipsy, just a little crazy.  As for the dudes?  They are still lining up because these girls have swagger, but they kick them to the curb unless they look like Justin Bieber.  A song after my own heart.  They had neon hair extensions and Kanye West stunner shades to complete their performance.  Awesome Friday.  That's about all I have for now.  But if you're needing a little pick me up...my.new.favorite.song.

Much Love, 

a

Stripped.

That's what it honestly feels like. Stripped of sleep.  A relaxing weekend with my family.  All peace of mind.
 Vulnerable and oddly sensitive I've gone through every emotion imaginable this week.  Truth be told, I'm having a really hard time.  I can't help but wonder why God thinks we are strong enough to go through all of this a second time.  I can't help but feel defeated, and frustrated.  I can't help but feel this second diagnosis takes away from 'the perfect match' that my stem cells were supposed to be.  I'm weakly questioning everything I know and believe.  I know this is a test of my faith, but I'll tell you, going through this so blindly is a test of every ounce of my being.  I know the relationship I have with God, (a strong one I feel), but even that isnt answering all that I have questions for right now.  And what does that say?!  A whole different can of worms.
     There are no definitive answers, which means there is no comfort.  Just a need to lean on all that I believe is right in my heart.  I pray that I've made known what Ashley does for my life and everyone she comes into contact with.  I'm not worried about her ability to beat this cancer, because she's done that, and that she will do again.  I pray that I can be some version of strength for her,when it gets hard. She is far stronger than this cancer could ever be, and she proved that within the first hour of her diagnosis the first time.  She is stronger than my whole family combined.  Stronger than I'll ever be, in every sense of the word. 
  So here is what I have so far:
  Someone out there hasnt heard Ashley's story, someone that really needs it.  Although to most she is beautifully shy, she is infact the funniest person you will ever meet, and not so shy!  She often laughs at her own jokes...much before anyone else.  And I love her for it.  She can laugh at life, and find pleasure in the little things.  (Probably the only person who after a month of being sick in the hospital post stem cell transplant, and a virtual inability to eat could say: " I'm so skinny!  Ehh, this month hasnt been sooo bad!").  Perhaps God is needing to give us fresh perspective for something we've missed, and if that is the case, I'm ready and open to learn.  A new perspective for the amazing nurse and mentor she is going to become. 
     If not perspective, then this will just round 2010 out as the worst year of my life...and for those of you that know all the circumstances aside from cancer that have surrounded my family this year, you can understand.  This is fine...BECAUSE STARTING 2011 AND BASICALLY THE REST OF OUR LIVES OUT WITH A HEALTHY SISTER, WHO IS LEUKEMIA FREE...IS BLESSING ENOUGH FOR ME!  I LOVE YOU ASH, AND YOU'VE GOT THIS!

Much Love,
a

I'll Be A Cool Kid One Day...Just Not Today.

     And so it seems, I can fly alone.  I had my doubts... but I maneuvered the airport like a champ.  Aside from my developing ADD, I somehow made my connecting flight in Dallas, despite having to stop at four different arrival/departure screens to check my connecting gate... and two rounds on the tram.  Minor complications.  You know what's funny about flying alone?  I find that I am way more interested in what other people are doing, than I normally would be.  I finished all three of my magazines waiting for my delayed flight to arrive, which meant I had no game plan for entertainment once the flight actually arrived.  So I did what I do best, and I opted for some people watching. (I know that sounds creepy... ehh, I'm not bothered).
     Ahhh to be in love and flying together.  The couple next to me cuddled like they were curling up on their living room couch, with a fresh copy of The Notebook from Red Box.  Never mind the awkward smallness of our plane, of the stationary arm rest in between them... nope, they were right at home.  I wanted to take a picture, but I quickly decided this was probably inappropriate and not proper people watching etiquette.  Entertaining, nonetheless.
     Two seats in front of me... cutest family ever... and they had a baby.  I smiled when they sat down, but they had no clue of the internal struggle that was ensuing as their precious baby began to get restless mid flight.  'Smile and stare?'  'ask to hold baby?'  'don't ask to hold baby?'  'just make funny faces at baby when Dad isn't looking?'...
I opted for smiling and staring... and then when baby and I were seemingly having a staring contest amongst his giggles, the Dad caught on.  I awkwardly muttered 'he's happy!'... haha ... duh.
  Flight number two I was delightfully stuck between an eight and six year old.  Seriously...could you have better seat partners?!  I think not, by the end of that flight...they might not have agreed.  My friend Pace built a 3D Lego pirate ship that he was far too proud to disassemble for our flight.  Instead he boxed it up and covered  every inch of the box with duct tape for safe keeping.  You can imagine his dismay when I tried to help him safely store said ship under the seat in front of him, and managed to break the mast.  Who would've guessed all that duct tape wouldn't serve its purpose?!  Amber: Strike One.  Strike Two came when I told him he could use my arm rest to take a nap.  I guess leaning on a total stranger to sleep is a little weird, even if you are only eight.  His brother refused to share his...and he was really tired!  I'm really a pretty accommodating seat partner... if you allow.  He wasn't quite sure:)  Strike Three:  I threw away his empty plastic cup when the stewardess came around.  He was probably planning on using that as a new mast for the pirate ship I already broke...
Either way, I made it home.  I finished the night with the big kids at Happy Hour at Eddie V's.
Savannah was absolutely beautiful,  but most definitely happy to be home.

Much Love,
a

Summer This, Summer That...

     A day off.  Lovely.  I planned on starting by sleeping in.  The sun, my tangled sheets, and my stupid pillow had other plans.  7:00am...wide awake.  Can I just say that there is nothing more unsatisfying than waking up before your alarm and having ample time to turn off  three pre-set alarms.  Strike One for the day.
     Fine.  Whatever.  I'll get up.  Shower...and because I was up so early, there was time for a small concert series.  This was nice:)  Getting dressed today was no walk in the park either.  It should have been a comfy t-shirt day...but it was not.  Mostly because I am not really a comfy t-shirt sort-of-girl.  I'd like to be...but I haven't gotten there yet.  I tried on my whole closet...twice.  Instead of sleeping in tangled sheets tonight, I'll be using a pullover for a pillow, and a blanket made out of draped tank tops.  I finally settled on jeans and a ruffled tank...which I later regretted, as I was walking through the mall with my bosses baby, and my strapless bra on display...she felt my shirt served better purpose as a toy! Ehhh, Strike Two.
     I was walking past Abercrombie & Fitch...and honestly, the cologne billowing from the stores entrance was almost unbearable, that and the fact that I was probably going to be the only person over the age of seventeen, but I'm an adventurous girl, so I ventured in anyway.  I circled one rack...laughed at my presence in the store, and left.  There is just something not super appealing about wearing a shirt that says 'Who Needs Brains When You Have These...'  At seventeen I might of laughed and considered...at twenty-three, I still laugh... but seriously Abercrombie?  I was offered a job at an Abercrombie once, and at the time I was certain it was going to be my leap into the fashion circuit.  Of course I would have started as a cashier, maybe a greeter...and then I'd likely make my move to Model/Official Spokesperson(this is where I'd put the 'I'm kidding, haha'...except that at 15, I thought I was being discovered.)  In hindsight, it could have been that I was most likely wearing their clothes head to toe.  But I'm sure I flattered myself into thinking that they wanted me to work their because of my great fashion sense and gracious people skills...
     I think strike three came when I was trying to put  baby to sleep.  Mainly because as I was pushing baby through the mall, I could feel the glares and quick glances at my ring-less left finger.  I cut my losses here, smiled, and said 'Come on love, let's go find Daddy', and resorted to rocking baby inside the store, while her mom shopped some.
  Revelation of the day:  I could most definitely be content with a career as a nanny.  A calling of sorts...  So much fun, and I don't even get paid to play with this little one.
     What I love about summer is that despite the repetitive school...work...school...work schedule, is that it is still summer, and I can't be anything but content with where I am at.  Life is good, healthy, and full of lovely people.
xoxo a

For A Young Girl Of Twenty Three...I'm Quite Opptimistic You See...

     It's officially the first day of summer. Which really has no real relevance to my life as I've been out of school for a month and a half now...oh, except that I started summer school three weeks ago...so summer...ehh? No real comprehension of the actual meaning of the word. But anyhow...being that swimsuit days are imminent since I've been wearing one for the better part of a month...I decided tonight was the night I jump start my 'I'm Going To Look Like A Victoria Secret Model...Even If I Have To Stop Eating...Forever...Diet' diet plan. One Problem: I have no will power when it comes to working out...and I have an addiction to Diet Coke. Today though, given the day...I made a compromise...I spent an extra dollar on my 12-pack and bought Diet Coke plus Vitamins and Minerals! Who knew?! I also went for a jog...and my thought process went a little something like this...

Five Minutes In: "Alright! This isn't so bad...you've got this!..."
...music up please! Born and raised in the U.S.A...by the way of New Orleans...
(this was me opptimistically singing Lil Wayne becuase I was still feeling AWESOME!)

     Seven Minutes In: And I'm over it. My Ipod keeps falling out of my sports bra (only legit runners have cool armbands...I'm far from legit as you will see)...I'm getting tangled in my headphones...with every step that I run...my Ipod thinks this is a fun way to shuffle all that I am trying to listen too...I do not.

     Ten Minutes In: Run to the stop sign...Run to the stop sign!" Cool down lap! except that I see headlights up ahead..."And we're jogging again..." No worries. I am that runner... I have no shame. I'm oddly faster and more coordinated in the presence of other people or random passing cars. Uh huh, cool, I know.

     Twenty Minutes In...I think: (my vision was blurred I'm sure..;)
"Amber...you have to keep going...it's 10:30...at night. No one will find you until the morning if you die here..."

Conclusion: I still hate running...

So, all in all...I am a work in progress! Did I mention that I've def. been scoping out a five mile course I came up with few days ago? Clearly I'm going to be working my way up to that it seems.

Not Signing Up For Any 10k's Soon,
xoxo a

Questions I'll Die Trying To Answer.chapter six.

      There was once a time when I idolized this movie.  And by idolized, I mean, I wished, I longed, I believed that I could have been cast in Kate Hudson's place.  Little does Hollywood know...their next big star resides here in the great state of Texas.  Witty, single, twenty-something?  Romantic Comedy? I  mean please, I'd call that more of an autobiographical piece.   Okay, Okay, just kidding.  I'm pretty sure that any girl under the age of thirty would agree that there is a way to parallel every song we sing, every movie we see, ...to our lives in some way.  And yes, I say parallel in hopes that I'm not the only one, although  I'm really probably pretending that my life is totally the same thoroughout the whole movie.  Songs on the other hand...I dont know how, but someone out there is shopping my life story to various artists, and they are choosing to use me and my daily encounters as inspiration for material.  Its really very flattering.  So today I was going through some of my playlists, specifically,  'Soundtrack To My Life' and 'Everyone's In Love But Me...', and it sparked my current epihany!  Well, that and an honest, eye opening, 'I am not crazy, am I?' conversation with a friend...
I AM NOT TOO PICKY . How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days...you're not helping me.  How am I supposed to lose a guy in ten days, if I can't even find one that is open to any emotional attatchment?  Anything other than a proper face to face conversation does not qualify as one on one time...a text is not the same as a phone call...and I know it is all about the chase...and you have to keep up some sort of hard exterior, but could you chase me a little to keep it even?  I
Not to mention that ten days is a freaking world record in terms of losing a guy...any mention of a possible commitment, and all bets are off.    I know your judgements are already forming...but hold off for a sec.  I will fully admit to my own commitment issues.  And although, I think I am painfully obvious in shedding light on my attraction to you...the truth is, I am not.  That half smile I just gave you...yeah, that was me telling you I am in love, oh, and I have been.  In my eyes, this past six months of texting banter...a full blown relationship;)  You feel the same way right?  So later, when I'm upset, it's because I'm really hearbroken you didnt understand that's what this was...haha.  For loving writing as I do, I am terrible at verbally expressing how I feel, so I'm just going to need you to go ahead and figure me out.  Mkay? Thanks.  I also don't think most guys are willing to put in any effort beyond that to see what could develop, and honestly I don't know that I blame them.:)   Or perhaps it's just most guys I am attracted to.  In which case, I say...lame. lame. lame.  So, Reason # 894 I am,  and continue to be very, VERY, single.  That, and probably this blog, if I am being completely honest...
much love,
a

And So It Is...

     I am the most un-coordinated you will find, I've known for awhile.  But today I felt the need to put it on display for oh...everyone.  Trip on my way to class.  Check.  So naturally, when I finally arrived to class late, and with all of my hair blown in front of my face thanks to this 'Are we in Chicago...no, still Texas' weather...I thought it would be a good idea to put my bag next to my chair instead of behind it as usual.  Not so my friends.  Not so.  Fast forward to a 36-slide powerpoint (that my professor decided to 'just read') later...and I stepped on it, wrapped my leg in a strap, and had one of those slow motion, there's nothing I can do now, I hate my life, this is sooooo embarrassing, hi, yes, I am falling right now, catch me?' moments.  Ugh.

Dear week, it's Tuesday.  Not Monday, Not Friday the 13th, just Tuesday.  Get with it already, okay?  So I sat there for another 45 minutes after that, probably bright red, but mostly just worried that I also stepped on my Iphone in my stupid bag.  Stupid bag? yes.  Stupid bag that broke my phone?  Not today, and thank goodness!  It has not been a good few weeks, although, I am totally still loving my rental car!  Getting in the wreck...sucked...and it was scary.  I find myself increasingly aware of stupid driver's now...almost too aware.  I kind of feel the need to write down all license plates, so when they just drive away after hitting me...I'll have them.  Not to mention that anything over 70 in the fast lane...not acceptable anymore.  I know, uncharacteristic for my race car like driving ways...but after spinning out five times, on the free way, with cars driving at me....suddenly, despite it not being my fault...its just not worth it.  Stepping off my soap box....now.
So I have the most awesome job ever!  What did I do today?
Oh...just created some life size Alice in Wonderland playing cards.  No big deal.  Mind you, I'm currently not certified, and therefore cannot be paid for this job...but who cares!  It's way too awesome to care!:)

Devin...(who is super quiet and rarely speaks) walked into class and after seeing this:

Exclaimed this: "Miss Henley you are so crative!( I'm assuming this is his version of the word 'creative')  This is just like the book...you are very efficient!"


Funny that he couldn't say the word creative right, but efficient...no worries.  LOVE it!   So, all in all...Wednesday was a good day!  I got to craft all morning...in heels though...bad idea.  But the finished product was a hit!  Let me tell you, these kids do not miss a beat, and after loving this little number, they also quickly began to notice all that was un-finished with all of my other 'playing card gaurds' that were hanging around the room.  "He doesnt have any hands or feet yet...."  "That one needs a head..."  Fun times.
     Easter weekend was awesome!  Pictures to come:)  I may be 23, but my Dad definitely sent me on a scavenger hunt through the house for clues to a huge prize!:)  There was a $1 bill in each egg!  So I went home with $10...and....wait for it.....$50 to one of my favorite stores! Super cute, super fun!  Always thinking that Dad of mine!  My favorite clue?

'When you are hungry and need something to eat, look inside this for some lunch...______'  haha, so clever too.

     What a weekend it has been.  I am exhausted, which is why I've decided to forgo all class related activities for the evening and just relax.  We had our benefit garage sale, and it was so amazing!  We raised about $2300 for our friends Dad.  Super awesome!

This is my friend Kristen...

She likes fire trucks...what can I say. ;) Love you Kk!

I fell asleep today...at 5:00 this afternoon...and if it didnt sound like my neighbors were building a spaceship in their backyard...maybe two....I probably could have called it a night.  So now I'm off to work to finish payroll for my boss...and then I plan on hanging out with my new bff Aubrey...

CUTEST. BABY. EVER.

Much Love, 
xoxo a

     

All A Blur...

      It's been a good week, but thank God it is over.  Well, almost over.  Last week I was taking naps outside, and just enjoying it all!  Fast forward to this week, and  my procrastinating ways are finally catching up with me, and I find that it is becoming increasingly difficult to procrastinate as I want to all while maintaining the amount of sleep  I want to.  My family probably thinks Im getting mono, I have no energy by the time I get home.  Kindergartners wear you out!  But seriously, so entertaining!  Today, Abigail asked me "Whose Mommy I was?"  I'm still trying to decide how I want to take that.  Complimentary that she could see me as someone's Mommy, or sad that she thinks I look like someone's Mommy.  I'm just going to assume that it's default stereotyping as at five I would also assume anyone taller than four feet was a parent too.  I am convinced that she is going to go into fashion, as she is fascinated will everything I wear.  "Ms. Henley...I love your hair!"  And she already goes for the bargain, which is good to learn early!  You can escape the credit card debt later on..."I love that bracelet! (note: she is probably in the process of taking it off my wrist as she tells me this) I'm going to have it, okay?"  The boys are fun too.   Jude spends all day telling me, "Shouting Courtesy Isn't Showing Courtesy!" and while they aren't shy about letting me know when they aren't happy...(like when I put Oscar's chair up for him...bad idea) they hug me in random passing, and they light up when I walk in the room.  I love them!
   Work has been rather slow...except for today.  PSA for all you pet owners...if you are going to have skiddish dogs, and leave them at home alone...

1. Get an adequate fence so I dont have to interrupt 'Shadow' and 'Peanut's' adventure through the neighborhood.

2.  If you are going to leave them at home to embark on adventures of these sorts...put tags on their collars so I can call you and tell you I have them.

  To the man whose yard I returned said pets too...if they arent yours, I am sorry.  They acted as if your yard was 'home'. 
     This week I also discovered that I have a problem.   I can justify anything.  You name it, and I'll come up with a pretty legitimate reason as to why I need it, want it, bought it...or didnt do it.  Everytime.  Case in point:  my guitar.  I begged, pleaded, hinted....as to why I HAD to have one.  Rising singer/songwriter was not reason enough for my parents...sheesh...what do they know?(I have quite a collection of songs I've penned over the years, and if youre lucky...and I've had some red wine, I might even sing one to you)  To my parents I was somehow convincing nonetheless, and...five years later it is still sitting in the corner of my room, with a broken string.  Sadly,  the broken string isnt even my doing.  So there it sits, except when on rare occasion I feel the urge to convincingly strum along, usually while something else is playing in the background, as my playing seems to sound so much nicer in the company of other instruments.  All this, and you think I would accept defeat?  No no.  I may have spent an undisclosed amount of time on the computer today convincing myself that I needed a new, much fancier, RED GUITAR!  If that doesnt say 'Rockstar'....well then, I just dont know what does.

       Tip of the Week:  Ray Lamontagne's 'Trouble' as a song starter on Pandora is sweet sweet bliss for the soul...just saying.

       

And It Went A Little Something Like This...Questions I'll Die Trying To Answer.chapter five.

Humble Humility:  The Kind Where Just A Little Is Enough

 

     Judging by my life's events, you would think that humility was a passion of mine. A passion it seems, but not one I am purposely seeking. Walking up stairs is a task I still haven't mastered, and all those times I went strutting through the grocery store, only to get back to my car with one earring...or something in my teeth. Humble Humility at it's best! We go through this life day by day, the best we can. Doing what we think is right, but never fully knowing if the decisions we are making are good...or good for the moment. Sometimes, it is all I can do to just decide something, just for the sake of making a decision and moving on. Getting dressed in the morning alone is a task. And for what? So all the cute guys at school who aren't noticing me can not notice me AND my well thought out outfit? I mean can you honestly remember what someone else was wearing just the day before? I am lucky if I can remember what I was wearing two hours ago. My only saving grace most days is my tendency to fall out of my daily outfits as I'm falling into bed for the night. It really is a great system. There is no tricky 'Is this clean?' head game in the morning, because it is always nicely piled right there on the floor. Don't worry, this is not going to be a chapter on how I get ready in the morning, moving on...now. The lessons we learn on a daily basis, are typically hard to understand and at times, even hard to acknowledge. However, it's something you take in stride. Something you should make reasons not to forget...because as I've learned, God will bend you in a way that is far more embarrassing, than if you had just been a little more self-aware in the first place. A way of humbly reminding you.  Case in point:  Not only am I the most un-coordinated you will find, but I also am becoming more increasingly aware of my tendency to love all that is un-cool. A self-proclaimed dork, and maybe just maybe...ready to own it.    All that being said, I look back and it's no wonder embarrassing things keep happening. It's embarrassing that I get dressed up to go grocery shopping. It's embarrassing that until now, I've cared so greatly about such minimal things. I'm going to say that 2009 has been a jam packed year of life lessons. I've done more living in my twenty-three years then most will ever have the chance to do. I've learned lessons that some are lucky to have not had the chance to learn. But I'm grateful. I've learned things some don't grasp until they are well past a time when those lessons might have been helpful, perhaps when it is too late...

Humbly humiliated? Yes. But, forever changed? I can only hope.

Humility has a humorous and sometimes cruel way of reminding us of all that we should remember in our daily encounters with others. A few I've found most recently...

1. That we arent as cool as we think we are.

2. There will always be someone more beautiful or handsome.

3. Someone always has it harder than we do.

4. Not having your Starbuck's in the morning is not a tragedy. Not having somewhere to sleep at night is.

5. You don't have to be in love to give love.

6. Life is so much easier when you don't beat yourself up for someone else's "idea" of the kind of person you are.

7. What your family thinks about the way you live your life...the best reference to go by.

8. Feeling good about the character you possess...so much better than feeling bad. So you should probably do things that make your character known to others in a positive way.

9. Nothing beats being happy.

10. It's much easier to let someone in, when the door isn't closed. But, if it must be closed, shut it lightly. Treat people kindly. Hopefully, when you do finally open the door, they are there, waiting with open arms.

11. Hard times are hard, but you're experience can make it softer for someone later on.

12. No matter what choices you make in life, good or bad...Good people will be there to dry your tears or give you congragulatory hugs. If you havent been shown this love before, be that love for someone else.

13. Good friends are hard to come by. If you find some, let them know what they mean to you and hope they feel the same.

14. Life Is Beautiful.

15. As a last resort, ice cream, comfy blankets, candles, and Sandra Bullock movies are still a popular remedy for a close to a hard day. You may go to sleep crying and with a stomach ache...but when you wake up, the sun will be shining once again.

Much Love,

a

Really Sir? Really?

So let's talk about my weekend...and GO!
Disclaimer: Mom, I already took care of it...and the Insurance...bc I know that is your next question, I have a plan for that too! So...I love you, and Sorry, and I love you?! xo (You should probably look at this picture and remember I'm your favorite before you call me mad):)

I got ANOTHER speeding ticket. Ugh. I mean, I don't even know if I can be mad. I only learn lessons the hard way, that is for sure! I will say, for all the lesson learning I am doing, it's about time for some fun lessons.
Like for example...
closing out my bank account and going to Las Vegas...a fun lesson to be learned.
serial dating, dream worthy date...on a night I should be doing papers...a fun lesson to be learned.
eating ice cream for breakfast....lunch...and dinner...a fun lesson to be learned.
Where I used to be charming and friendly, I find myself just bitter and annoyed with the officers pulling me over. First of all, can we remind ourselves of my 5'6 frame, and Miley Cyrus playing on the radio? Not exactly threatening, so if you could refrain from using your CB radio announcer here in this empty parking lot...I bet I'll still be able to hear you if you would just get out of your car and walk up to my window. Mkay Thanks.
Secondly, although I am sure you are a very nice man, you are about to kindly tell me I am going to be $200.00 more poor...so we can probably just skip this small talk...I don't think you really care to know 'what kind of line of work' I am in, and suddenly I am not in the mood for sharing. The Tx State window sticker is a good indicator...Occupation: 5 minutes ago...Student. Now that we've met: Really Poor Student.
So it seems my days of race car driving are over... Tonight I pretended my little two door cobalt was a Buick and I was a feeble 70 year old woman, all the way home. Slow lane, not so bad...and cruise control...my new 'life tool'.

Now, let's rewind back to Thursday night. Dinner with Donnie, Kane, and my two favorite Ashley's. Good times all around! Ended the evening @ Clayton's...before he went off for an Architecture presentation. A quiet drive home, and my good friend Amos Lee sang me to sleep. What would this world be without I-tunes? Sad, sad, sad.
Friday night I went to Homecoming at my high school. I haven't been back in a few years, and I'm going to say, for the first time I didn't wish I was still in high school!:) Success! haha. Adult life is finally more fun, minus the responsibility...but I can deal.
Saturday was Jessica's funeral. Obviously sad. It's so crazy to sit there and really realize she is not here anymore. I think for me, most of my pain comes for Elysia. I can only imagine what she is going through, and I can really sympathize because in February when Ash was diagnosed, it was a possibility that I could at some point go through the same thing. My world would be over. Ash is my everything. It's not something I could ever prepare for or understand. I think her parent's put it so perfectly to say that Jess is now free from a body that held her captive. She really can be so close to us all now, and she is free and able to live as she used to.
Saturday night was Breezy's Sweet 16. Crazy. She is my exact opposite, and anything girly...not even remotely exciting for her. So you can imagine her annoyance when two hours before her party, I asked her if she wanted me to pick out an outfit for her...and where I should set up my 'Sweet 16 Hair/Makeup' Station? haha, I lost. but she looked oh so cute dancing with her friends, and we had a good time for sure.

Much Love Always,
a

Lesson Of The Week: A Lesson For The Weak...

So I've been doing a lot of thinking this week, as I often do. There is a song I love entirely too much, and in it she sings..."I think I think too much...." yep, written for me for sure! However, on rare occasion, the sad music I always end up listening to and the candle lit room I write in does make for some good self-realizations. I will be the first to say that I analyze way too much, but I always learn something. And because I know you want to know...here is what I am thinking:
I'm finally realizing that the standstill I feel I am in is all brought on myself. No one is going to hand me what I am looking for, no one is going to point me in the direction that I am going to find it...except for myself. Happiness is something that has to be sought after, and if you don't have enough of it, its because you aren't pursuing it enough. They say you have to go after what you want whole heartily and passionately, and I do not. I don't mean this to be misconstrued as if I have this looming cloud over my head. I do pursue happiness, and I have it... but not to the extent I know that I could. I have such expectations for my life, that I think a lot of the time I am afraid to pursue them at all. I am weak and scared. And all too often, I let that be my excuse to seek the comfort in what I already know. Here's the deal though, I have nothing to lose, because right now, in terms of those dreams...I have nothing. I feel like for the past five years, I've been struggling to find out who I am. And until now, I don't think I really had a grasp on it. I push a lot in my life away completely, because it's safe, and I know what to expect. Unexpected is scary, but knowing every move I am going to make is finally getting repetitive. I am ready to be vulnerable to the bigger picture. I'm ready to quit pushing everything and everyone away and embrace all that I don't know! And there is a lot. If there is one thing I've claimed to know...it is that life is all too short! I am surrounded by amazing people that have had it hard lately. And even that is an understatement. I want to take what I have honestly learned from them and let that be reason enough to hold myself accountable to all I should be doing. I claim to be learning so much from them, and yet here I am sitting back, and letting this ONE life pass me by! It is short, but it can be sweet, and I am ready to make it so so sweet.

What Happened To The Days When Being Sick Meant "Princess For A Day"?

I am sick. Well yes, in more than once sense of the word, but today I am refering to being physically ill. I was going to originally spend this post talking about how my inevitable slide into adulthood was beginning, and then through all the sniffiling and work to breathe normally...I had an epihany. A stuck on the couch, six pillows, downcomforter kind of a revelation. I don't want to grow up. Can we talk about how there is nothing more miserable than being sick when you live alone? I will claim the feminist, independent woman card all day long, but when it comes down to it, when I am sick, I am hopelessly needy. I want to be taken care of! Chicken Soup? Yes, please, and if you could snuggle despite my homely appearance, contagious 'I don't know what I have' symptoms, and incredibly bad taste in outfit choice, that would be nice too. As if being sick weren't bad enough, my car broke down on the way home too. My lungs hate me, my car hates me...can a girl get a break?! What did I do? I cried. That's right. Car doors open, car hood up, front seat bawling. Nevermind that there were people all around. I didn't care.
"I just want to get into my bed...wah wah wah"...this probably deterred any possible help from the slew of people waiting at the bus stop in front of my car. The situation looked tragic I'm sure. What did this damsal in distress do you ask? What every damsal would do, I called my Dad. Prince Charming, not so available right now. He drove me home, and towed my car. Good day. I got home, dropped the heels, threw on a hoody and fell into bed. I went to the doctor later, all for her to tell me that the symptoms I was exhibiting were usually cured with sleep and lots of fluids. Really? $30 dollar co-pay for that? I'm going to med-school. Well, sleep? That's not happening this week, and my lungs would beg to differ, so some prescribed relief please. Perscribed she gave, relief...three days later, and I'm still waiting on that part. Ash wanted to bring me soup that evening, but all the way from Austin. And even I, in my compromised state, realized that was ridiculous. However, as soon as I hung up with her, I realized I was cold and thirsty. For five minutes I sat there thinking of how great the days were when I lived at home, and Mom came running with all that I needed. It wasnt until after those five minutes did I realize that wasnt going to happen, and was forced to get it myself. Dizzily stumbling through the hall to my kitchen, I decided growing up sucks. Not only was my Brita water filter empty, but five minutes after cozily settling back into my fort on the couch...burning up! Ugh. I'm hoping menopause is a thing of the past by the time I turn sixty. Then a Sonic commercial came on and convinced me an ice cream sundae was all the cure I needed. Hair sexily fountaining from the top of my head, my black yoga pants stuffed in a pair of Ugg boots, and my comfy hoody on, I treked outside, keys in hand. All to turn the corner to my driveway to remember, I didn't have a car. Defeated, I went back inside, fell into bed once again, shoes and all...and passed out for the night. At 7pm. Being sick when you are young has perks beyone belief. When you are an adult, its just sad.

And It Went A Little Something Like This...Questions I'll Die Trying To Answer.chapter four.

'I Have A Dream'...Now What?

Why are things always better in our dreams? If we are intelligent enough to piece together events in our sleep, that make us want to go back to sleep, even if just for five minutes. Than why is it so hard to make that happen in real life? As if finding out who that cloudy face was you were about to kiss, is going to change the course of your days events. It is pointless. Just like when you wake up one minute before your alarm clock goes off, and yet you still close your eyes for the now 44 seconds that are left in that moment. I mean yes, I can kiss a cloudy face in real life, and with 6th street a mere thirty minutes away, easily so. But what does it actually take? In my dreams, I am invincible. A force to be reckoned with, someone that someone wants to look up to. I am fearless and forward. I take what I want, and demand what I deserve. And in my dreams, I look like Natalie Portman and I might be 5'9, but those are minor details. I'm pretty sure my sister has it all figured out. The other night this is how she told us she was going to sleep...
Sister: "Alright guys, well I'm going to go think about what I want to dream about."
Me: "What does that even mean?"
Sister: "Oh yeah, well I haven't been having very exciting dreams lately, so now I just go lay in bed a little earlier and think about it first."
Me: "Does it work?"
Sister: "Every time".
Now I agree that it does sound like a pretty legit plan, but we first have to remember that all she is really having to think about, is whether or not she is marrying Brad Pitt or Jude Law. And between the secret love children and nanny cheating Jude is accustomed to these days, Brad is the obvious choice. Too much baggage is never a good thing, even if just in a dream. Now 'Dream Planning' as I will refer to it would be great if it somehow involved transpiring dreams into a reality as well. A well-versed optimist, and yet when it comes to the life that I want to lead, I'm a bit of a pessimist. Everything I've ever wanted to do in my life, I've told myself it isn't practical. And maybe it isn't, but jobs that real people have nonetheless. If it is a practical way of living for them, why can't it be a practical way of living for me? Again, most of which I am referring to didn't really grow up 'practically', more like privileged. But still, normal people can have these amazingly wonderful lives too... It happens. A wise professor once told me that it is dangerous to daydream because our reality can never live up to what we imagine in our dreams. But what if what we imagine in our dreams is better than anything we imagine doing in real life? I've had my fair share of crazy dreams, and in some cases it is probably best that they occur only in my head. Vegas showgirl probably wouldn't have panned out, Jesse Spano kind of ruined that one for me...she should have just stuck with Saved By The Bell, I sill looked up to her at that point. Showgirls, not her best move, but VH1 still plays it from time to time, so there's a small kick back I'm sure. Songwriter to the stars...I couldn't make that one happen either. Being able to play the instrument you are trying to sing to, some would call it a necessity, I'll throw that one into the logistics category. I guess part of the problem, is that not only do I have no idea how to go about bringing my dreams to fruition, I also have a small problem with uncertainty. I'm kind of all over the place, and I think I'm kind of okay with that. That I am certain of. Bravery is probably one quality I would need for sure, and maybe a little stupidity. Check and Check. I think it would also be wise to have an ounce of ill-regard for others. Let's face it, in doing what you want, you are probably going to be disappointing someone...so I'm thinking it would be more to my advantage if I could find it in me to just not care. Oh to be self-centered, and driven. Not to say that only successful people are self-centered, but yes, that's what I am saying. Is it such a bad thing? Narcissism is a quality we all posses, and rightfully so.
I am driven, but probably not in ways I should be. I'm driven to blog instead of studying, driven to drive to the mall to spend money I don't have, things of that nature. All the best authors have credit card debt. It's like a pre-requisite. In terms of actually moving forward with a career and life in general...ehh, it will happen when it happens. They say you need passion to do what you love, and passion I have. But honestly, if passion were enough to make all your dreams come true, than I would have been well on my way quite some time ago. My passion for writing started at an early age thanks to my mom's ability to get under my skin, and my mellow-dramatic tendencies. Reading my journals quickly became a favorite past time at sleepovers, as most of my entries started out a little something like this...
Dear Journal,
Today was the closest to worst day of my life...# 7! My journal's became such a hot commodity, that people actually stole them. The one's I still have are probably collector's items at this point. I write a lot, but to say that it is something I could make a career out of...this I am not sure of. I basically write what I know. My life. I'm not this clever storyteller, I can't come up with catchy character names. Sarcasm is my number one tool, and that is all I go on. Life cannot be taken seriously, and my life is far from it. I feel as though my venture through this life would also be much more productive if I didn't find in interest in everything I do. Isn't that why they call them hobbies? No No, I believe that they should all somehow be made into one, cohesive career. And don't even get me started on that dream of 'happily ever after', because I am fading fast on that one. For now my happily ever after is my comfy bed, my room to myself, candles late at night, and Dave Barnes on repeat . I hate to be a broken record, but I am still comfortably bitter, and finding things that I still don't understand about the opposite sex.
So in terms of a dream...I'd like to find out how to first remember what the heck I did dream about last night. I know it had to have been good, because I woke up smiling, only to think..."Wait, where was I?" We're doing good if I can remember if it was happy or scary. The smile is not a sure indicator. It could have either been a nice dream that warranted a nice smile, or I am just reflecting on how ridiculous I am. Most wake up instantly when they have that 'I'm falling' feeling, or something startles them to wake up...not me. I may wake up, and then try and reason whether I am in fact really falling. A recent development: I've mastered the art of pulling muscles in my sleep. Two weeks in a row now. It's a talent even I didn't know I had, and not one I'm sure I would like to keep exploring. Secondly, I think there should be a support group for all the in-between. Hint: If you're confused, I'm referring to myself here. In-between doing what I am going to do, and doing what I want to do. Practicality is by far overrated, and this I am positively sure of. I have been pursuing a degree that I describe as..."it will be a great job when I have children...". Fact: I've been single for five plus years now, children are not in my near future...there not even in any realm directly or indirectly related to me at this point. To all you five to seven year olds out there...when your teacher asks you what you want to be when you grow up, pick something good! And it would be best and less costly to your parents when you are in college if you would just stick with that. Because let's face it, though at five, rockstar sounds a little extravagant, at twenty-three, it's totally looking like a good life plan. Rock On.

And It Went A Little Something Like This...Questions I'll Die Trying To Answer.chapter three.

Helping Yourself To Self-Help...And Everything Else You've Never Wanted To Admit To





So I traveled home the other day, as I often do when my fridge is empty and the Diet Coke's are gone. Upon walking into the office where my mom was diligently updating her facebook status, she presented me with this question:
"Do you think I screwed you up?"
My first initial thought...uh oh, what did I last blog about? Let's be honest, I don't hold back too much when it comes to blogging, because I think my three readers can handle the truth.
Hmmm. I guess I've never really thought about it. Don't get me wrong, I do like to analyze. My life, my decisions...breakfast. However, whether or not the world thinks I am normal is not something that crosses my mind often. I like questions, but what does that mean? Either A. My mom full heartily believes I am in fact screwed up, and unaware of such a fact. Hence, the question. Her inquiry: sort of a test of my knowledge about my level of crazy. Or B. Someone has planted a seed in my mom's brain, and she isn't sure of the answer either. When all else fails, seek a second opinion. Right? I will agree that I am slightly dramatic at times, it is true. Really, I attribute this to my extreme sense of all that is emotional. I am, always have been, and always will be super open about what I am feeling at any given time. If I didn't learn anything else in kindergarten, sharing is one thing I picked up. I am flawed, and notably so. This is probably why on a Saturday night, you can usually find me at Barnes & Noble, perusing it up in the Self-Help section. I'm unsure of what this says about me, but when faced with a challenge, press on! I think if I ever decide to write a self-help book, I will title it 'Don't Judge A Book By It's Cover...Go For One With Fun Colors'. I'm sure I don't actually have half the problems I read about, but good covers usually make for a good read. No harm,no foul. I mean who really has the time to first wander through the isles of self-help books, pick one, and then take the time to read the insert to really decide if it will fix all of your problems. We are curious people, but it is a little embarrassing. No one really wants to be seen in the Self- Help section, so instead you linger at the end of the isle. Curiously looking, all the while still very aware of the nice old woman two isles over looking at cookbooks. When someone wanders onto your radar, you quickly dash into the next closest isle. Beware though, sometimes this too can be tricky. Especially when the isle next to the Self-Help section is conveniently labeled Sex & Relationships. If you've never frequented this isle, you will be met with a slew of covers with very suggestive titles, and lots of scantly clad models. Which is more awkward? I mean, that my friends is a decision you are going to have to make on your own. I'll tell you what is awkward...my mom yelling "Huh...what is this rabbit thing all these books talk about!?".....Me: "A vibrator Mom!" I've never heard my mother laugh so hard, and I can accurately guess that neither has most of Barnes & Noble. So while I was trying to escape the embarrassment, from two isles over, her delayed reaction rang loudly. "Wait! How do you know about the rabbit!?" To the nice man sitting on the floor reading origami books...yes, she is talking to me. No need to worry Mom, one afternoon of any of the prestigious documentaries such as The Kardashians on E!, and you can bet it will be mentioned. I am still innocent as you remember.
While drifting through the countless rows of books Saturday night, I came across a few interesting titles. And just so we're clear...these were found in various sections, not in the previously mentioned.

For starters, "The Secret"? More the like 'The Secret I Couldn't Keep'. It's really not much of a secret when you are in Oprah's Book Club, on New York #1 Bestsellers List, and basically everywhere you look. I'm just saying.

And this one: "Should I Do What I Love, Or Do What I'm Doing (just to do what I love on the side)"...haha. I mean I think it's typical etiquette to first ask when using someone as your muse, but muse is one job title I will gladly accept, even if not properly asked. I don't mind. It's pretty obvious that whoever wrote this book clearly had me in mind. I'm sure if you go to the dedications page, there would be a beautifully scripted dedication, something to the effect of: 'Dearest Amber, Thank you for not having a clear direction or purpose in your life, for aimlessly wandering through college while you try and figure it out...this book is for you.' I'm jealous that I didn't think of it first. You could all be referring to this little blog and saying..."I knew her when she was just starting out...who knew."

I liked this one too,
"Young Women Searching for Love and Sex, and Failing At Both"
Really? Last I checked they came hand in hand. Perhaps if women would find love first and then opt for the sex, they'd have better success rates. Should you choose to forgo the love as a first step, I would recommend a stop by the Self-Help section on the way to your date. Then when you do fail miserably as this book predicts, you are readily prepared to nurse your ailing ego back to health. If that doesn't work out for you, serial one-night stands should not be your next option, despite the suggestions of your better male halves.

And this was fun as well,
"Soulmate: Master The Art of Aloneness & Transform Your Life"
I didn't actually take the time to open this book, but I think it must have gone a little something like this...
Rule # 1: When shopping, channel your inner "lost boy" and fashion all outfits after Ferris Bueller.
Rule # 2: If you think it sounds crazy, it probably is...but boys LOVE this!
Rule # 3: Clingy is the new Cool.
Rule # 4: When spending the night, take his favorite pillow and sleep on his side of the bed. When he says he hates this,he's using reverse psychology.
Rule #5: When he says he is willing to wait until you are ready, he is telling the truth! True Love Forever!
Rule #6: He absolutely loves the five minute play-by-play of your day you've been texting since you woke up this morning.
Rule #7: He feels warm and fuzzy inside when you change his ring tone for you to "Endless Love", without telling him.
Rule #8: When he is having his guys night in, he loves when you break out the fully planned wedding notebook to discuss colors. It doesn't matter that he hasn't even proposed...it's going to happen soon, your intuition is totally on point.
Rule #9: Being alone is a state of mind. Feel the humility, see the humility...you are the humility.
Rule #10: Social activities will throw off your inner core, so you should just avoid being social at all costs.

And finally,
"You Can Heal Your Life: Gift Addition"
Yes, its true. As if buying this book for yourself wasn't gift enough, you can give it to a friend too! Nothing says Happy Birthday, like a gift that says "You have issues".

From what I gather, the Self-Help market is an easy one to break into. Clever Title, Pretty Cover, Lost Consumer...and you've got yourself a #1 seller! Bottom line ladies and gentlemen, you have all of the tools to pointlessly medicate your emotional needs on your own. Logic being the most prescribed.