Wednesday, May 2, 2012
untitled rant blog.
Why do I keep my emotions bottled up inside me until I burst? Why can' I just let out a healthy amount of anger each day to save myself from having a mental breakdown? I know this isn't good for me, but I can't change the way I am. Whenever something happens that irritates me it just throws a few more logs on the fire that is burning inside of me. Then all of a sudden the fire will start spreading, burning everything and everyone down in its path. I throw things. I cry at random moments. I scream at pets and inanimate objects. (Today it was the dogs and my sunglasses.) I start showing my friends the cold shoulder. I never really scream at anyone. I never actually let people know that they anger me. I just let the fire build and build and build until I can slowly let it out through small spurts of evil acts.
How do you let people know how they're making you feel? I've always thought it was better to just keep my feelings to myself and keep a smile on my face. If that's the right way to go about it, there's something wrong in the world because I don't like the way it makes me feel. I feel like an idiot that can't get anything right. I feel like the friend that none of my friends want to be around. They all tell me that they love me and they want to spend time with me, but if that's true then why do I feel this way?
I thought I would try to write an anger blog saying all the things that have been upsetting me, but that couldn't do any good. Once things are down on "paper" they can be read and I don't want someone to happen upon something I wrote out of anger that could start a bigger fight in the future.
I think this all boils down to me being a people pleaser. I'm so worried about what everyone else thinks about me and how everyone else feels that I don't take the time to deal with the problems that really need to be worked on.
I'm just so fed up with everyone treating me like I'm a carpet they can just stomp all over. Maybe one of these days I will learn how to stand up for myself. Maybe.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
As college comes to an end
I entered college in the fall of 2007. As a freshman I thought I had the whole world ahead of me and I was ready to chase all the rainbows and kiss every frog. It's now the spring of 2012 and in these 5 years I've learned that most of the rainbows are illusions and all of the frogs are toads. I've also learned that your friends will change faster than the Texas weather and that alcohol isn't always the answer. I've done a ton of things I said I would never do and haven't done even more things that I promised myself I would. I haven't studied as much as I could and I've failed more tests than I care to mention. I've hurt people's feelings. I've broken people's hearts. I've made someone's day. I've spent too much money. I've stayed up too late.
If you would have asked me when I was a High School senior where I would be in 5 years I definitely wouldn't have placed me here at all.
I know that I am young. I know that I have a long road ahead of me. I have many years to accomplish all of my hopes and dreams, but when will the accomplishments begin?
I read a quote today that said, "I feel too deeply and want too much." I can't think of a better way to describe me.
No one quite understands what I want in life, the least of all me. I blame that on the fact that I want more than it is humanly possible to achieve in one lifetime.
So as college comes to an end I reflect back on my time here at college and I'm thankful for the good times I've had, a little weary about stepping into the real world and only slightly confident that I will live the life I want to live.
If you would have asked me when I was a High School senior where I would be in 5 years I definitely wouldn't have placed me here at all.
I know that I am young. I know that I have a long road ahead of me. I have many years to accomplish all of my hopes and dreams, but when will the accomplishments begin?
I read a quote today that said, "I feel too deeply and want too much." I can't think of a better way to describe me.
No one quite understands what I want in life, the least of all me. I blame that on the fact that I want more than it is humanly possible to achieve in one lifetime.
So as college comes to an end I reflect back on my time here at college and I'm thankful for the good times I've had, a little weary about stepping into the real world and only slightly confident that I will live the life I want to live.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
My Memaw
My Memaw's memorial service was today and I stood up and read this. I thought that I would share it with the people that weren't able to make it to the service. Maybe if you didn't know my Memaw, this will give you a little insight to how great she was.
I’ve always considered myself a very lucky girl. Some people never get to know their grandparents. I’ve been lucky enough to live these 22 years of my life with six loving grandparents. I was Memaw’s first grandchild and even though I know she loved all 7 of us just as much as the other, I always thought we had a special bond. I owe a lot of myself to my Memaw. I not only got my long, slender fingers from her, but also my thin, impossible to hold a curl hair. She and I found a way around that curse though: a perm. I remember the first time she permed my hair. I thought my eyes were going to burn up due to the horrendous smell and chemicals floating around in the dining room. I was so happy with my bouncy locks that I let her do it a second time a few years later. Looking back now I’m not sure if it’s the curly hair I wanted, or just more one on one time with her.
I also got my love of a few things from Memaw: Elvis, Conway Twitty, Matthew McConaughey, and my papaw, Curtis Smith. I guess by a few things, I meant a few men.
One of my first crushes developed watching Nick at Nite every time I stayed the night at Memaw and Papaw’s house. Memaw and I would watch “Cheers” reruns and I thought Ted Danson was very cute and I always wanted to go somewhere were everyone knew my name and find my own Sam Malone. That’s another thing I can credit to Memaw, I can’t go to sleep without watching TV first.
I know Memaw hasn’t painted much in a very long time, but her artwork is still scattered all over my parents' house. When Christmas rolls around every year I hang up a painting of a little redheaded girl and Santa Claus that she painted my first Christmas. I’m very sad that I didn’t get any excellent painting skills from her, hopefully she passed them down to one of the grandchildren.
When I was in 8th grade I wrote a paper for a contest and won a scholarship for it. It was called “Is Freedom Really Free?”. If anyone has been in my Memaw’s kitchen they’ve seen this paper. When I had her read it for the first time she loved it so much that she asked me to sign it so she could hang it for the world to see. I don’t know if I was happier that I’d won a scholarship from the VFW or because my Memaw was so proud of my work.
Speaking of Memaw’s kitchen. She was one of the best cooks in the world. I know we all have our favorite dishes, but the one I’m going to miss the most is her enchiladas. Every year for my birthday Memaw would slave away to make this perfect dish. That was a great thing about Memaw, she always let us choose our birthday dishes. This year for my 22nd birthday she told me that she was sorry, but she just wasn’t going to do it. I was sad, but I didn’t want to pressure her into it, I knew how long it took and I should just be happy that she was cooking me anything at all. When I walked into the kitchen the day of my birthday lunch there they were. Pans and pans of cheese, beef, and, my favorite, chicken enchiladas, a big bowl of guacamole, and homemade tortilla chips. I didn’t tell Memaw then, and I hate to rat my mom out now, but Mom had told me the day before that Memaw was making the enchiladas. She was going over to help Memaw prepare everything and let it slip why she was going over there. I acted surprised nonetheless and everything was wonderful. I have the recipe for her enchiladas, but I know they will never be the same.
One of my brother’s favorite memories also involves the kitchen. But it was Memaw teaching him how to cook Spam. If I’m being honest, that was one of my favorite things she would make us too. No one can fry a piece of Spam like Memaw can. Another one of Trevor’s favorite things about Memaw was how kind she was. For example anytime that he and Christian would stay over they’d ask her after Papaw went to sleep if they could build a fort. She would always let them and would even deliver their drinks and snacks to their fort.
Every time I've walked into the kitchen the past few days I've expected to see her standing at the kitchen sink or my the stove. When I pull out my cell phone at the kitchen table I hear her tell me to put it away. And I know when Christmas comes around I'm going to be looking for her everywhere I turn. My Memaw was an amazing grandmother and friend. I will miss everything about her and I know that everyone else here will too.
I’ve always considered myself a very lucky girl. Some people never get to know their grandparents. I’ve been lucky enough to live these 22 years of my life with six loving grandparents. I was Memaw’s first grandchild and even though I know she loved all 7 of us just as much as the other, I always thought we had a special bond. I owe a lot of myself to my Memaw. I not only got my long, slender fingers from her, but also my thin, impossible to hold a curl hair. She and I found a way around that curse though: a perm. I remember the first time she permed my hair. I thought my eyes were going to burn up due to the horrendous smell and chemicals floating around in the dining room. I was so happy with my bouncy locks that I let her do it a second time a few years later. Looking back now I’m not sure if it’s the curly hair I wanted, or just more one on one time with her.
I also got my love of a few things from Memaw: Elvis, Conway Twitty, Matthew McConaughey, and my papaw, Curtis Smith. I guess by a few things, I meant a few men.
One of my first crushes developed watching Nick at Nite every time I stayed the night at Memaw and Papaw’s house. Memaw and I would watch “Cheers” reruns and I thought Ted Danson was very cute and I always wanted to go somewhere were everyone knew my name and find my own Sam Malone. That’s another thing I can credit to Memaw, I can’t go to sleep without watching TV first.
I know Memaw hasn’t painted much in a very long time, but her artwork is still scattered all over my parents' house. When Christmas rolls around every year I hang up a painting of a little redheaded girl and Santa Claus that she painted my first Christmas. I’m very sad that I didn’t get any excellent painting skills from her, hopefully she passed them down to one of the grandchildren.
When I was in 8th grade I wrote a paper for a contest and won a scholarship for it. It was called “Is Freedom Really Free?”. If anyone has been in my Memaw’s kitchen they’ve seen this paper. When I had her read it for the first time she loved it so much that she asked me to sign it so she could hang it for the world to see. I don’t know if I was happier that I’d won a scholarship from the VFW or because my Memaw was so proud of my work.
Speaking of Memaw’s kitchen. She was one of the best cooks in the world. I know we all have our favorite dishes, but the one I’m going to miss the most is her enchiladas. Every year for my birthday Memaw would slave away to make this perfect dish. That was a great thing about Memaw, she always let us choose our birthday dishes. This year for my 22nd birthday she told me that she was sorry, but she just wasn’t going to do it. I was sad, but I didn’t want to pressure her into it, I knew how long it took and I should just be happy that she was cooking me anything at all. When I walked into the kitchen the day of my birthday lunch there they were. Pans and pans of cheese, beef, and, my favorite, chicken enchiladas, a big bowl of guacamole, and homemade tortilla chips. I didn’t tell Memaw then, and I hate to rat my mom out now, but Mom had told me the day before that Memaw was making the enchiladas. She was going over to help Memaw prepare everything and let it slip why she was going over there. I acted surprised nonetheless and everything was wonderful. I have the recipe for her enchiladas, but I know they will never be the same.
One of my brother’s favorite memories also involves the kitchen. But it was Memaw teaching him how to cook Spam. If I’m being honest, that was one of my favorite things she would make us too. No one can fry a piece of Spam like Memaw can. Another one of Trevor’s favorite things about Memaw was how kind she was. For example anytime that he and Christian would stay over they’d ask her after Papaw went to sleep if they could build a fort. She would always let them and would even deliver their drinks and snacks to their fort.
Every time I've walked into the kitchen the past few days I've expected to see her standing at the kitchen sink or my the stove. When I pull out my cell phone at the kitchen table I hear her tell me to put it away. And I know when Christmas comes around I'm going to be looking for her everywhere I turn. My Memaw was an amazing grandmother and friend. I will miss everything about her and I know that everyone else here will too.
Monday, July 4, 2011
One-eyed hobo
Have you ever wanted to impress someone so much that you don’t think it will ever be possible? It’s rather infuriating. The person just seems so out of reach, so out of your league, that you don’t think there’s anything you could ever do to make them go, “Wow. I want to spend more time with you”.
I think I’m a pretty interesting person, but I feel like I have a hard time conveying that to others. Most people probably see me as pretty shallow, but I have more to me. (I promise I do!) So why can’t I express all the other sides of Jordan Lea Smith to the people who seem exceptionally better than me?
I try to tell myself that these other people don’t have anything over me, that they’re just normal human beings like me, but it never fails that they will do or say something that makes me feel like an illiterate, one-eyed, hobo from a third world country. (I know that may be pushing it, but you get my point.)
So I have two options here: I can either, A) find ways to grow and better myself as an individual each and every day and hope to one day be successful and cultured enough to impress the person that I want to impress or B) try to accept me for who I am and stop trying to impress other people because in the end, people should accept me for who I am as well.
Or maybe even a combination of the two.
I think I’m a pretty interesting person, but I feel like I have a hard time conveying that to others. Most people probably see me as pretty shallow, but I have more to me. (I promise I do!) So why can’t I express all the other sides of Jordan Lea Smith to the people who seem exceptionally better than me?
I try to tell myself that these other people don’t have anything over me, that they’re just normal human beings like me, but it never fails that they will do or say something that makes me feel like an illiterate, one-eyed, hobo from a third world country. (I know that may be pushing it, but you get my point.)
So I have two options here: I can either, A) find ways to grow and better myself as an individual each and every day and hope to one day be successful and cultured enough to impress the person that I want to impress or B) try to accept me for who I am and stop trying to impress other people because in the end, people should accept me for who I am as well.
Or maybe even a combination of the two.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Falling
I feel like I’m falling. Falling into the black abyss with no knowledge of when I’m going to land. Or what I’m going to land on. I may keep on falling forever. For all of eternity.
Why isn’t there anyone catching me? Where is everyone?
Last time I was on solid ground there were millions of people around. Now as I fall down this hole no arms are reaching for me.
I feel like I’m falling.
Head over heels.
Heels over head.
Spinning and turning.
Swirling and spiraling.
Why isn’t there anyone catching me? Where is everyone?
Last time I was on solid ground there were millions of people around. Now as I fall down this hole no arms are reaching for me.
I feel like I’m falling.
Head over heels.
Heels over head.
Spinning and turning.
Swirling and spiraling.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Quick rant.
Why do I let people take advantage of me? Do I have a sign over my head that says "Hey everyone! Walk all over me! I love it!"? If so I need to figure out how to take it down because I really don't enjoy it. I do love being a nice person and I do love doing things for other people, but there is a point where enough is enough. Just once I'd like other people to do things for me. To think of me before themselves.
I always thought that you were supposed to treat people the way that you want to be treated. I don't know what is wrong with 95% of the population, but I wouldn't want to be treated the way they treat others. Oh wait, I already am treated that way. So why do I have to keep being the bigger person? Well, that's because I was raised better than that and would rather see myself hurt in order to help someone else.
Maybe I just need to grow a backbone.
I always thought that you were supposed to treat people the way that you want to be treated. I don't know what is wrong with 95% of the population, but I wouldn't want to be treated the way they treat others. Oh wait, I already am treated that way. So why do I have to keep being the bigger person? Well, that's because I was raised better than that and would rather see myself hurt in order to help someone else.
Maybe I just need to grow a backbone.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
What I like about you...er...me
5 things I like about myself
1- My sense of fashion. I like to think that I know what I'm talking about when it comes to fashion. :)
2- The love I have for my friends and family. I don't think too many people love like I do. This can be a good thing and a bad thing though.
3- My ability to forgive people. I don't forgive everyone, ok I just don't forgive a few people, but I very easily forgive people. Just apologize and I don't see why you don't deserve a second chance.
4- My movie collection. It's pretty great.
5- My hair. Even though it's not as long as I'd like it to be right now, and it rarely ever does what I want it to, I get a lot of compliments on it, so that's cool.
:)
This was hard. I think I realized I don't like too dang much about myself.
1- My sense of fashion. I like to think that I know what I'm talking about when it comes to fashion. :)
2- The love I have for my friends and family. I don't think too many people love like I do. This can be a good thing and a bad thing though.
3- My ability to forgive people. I don't forgive everyone, ok I just don't forgive a few people, but I very easily forgive people. Just apologize and I don't see why you don't deserve a second chance.
4- My movie collection. It's pretty great.
5- My hair. Even though it's not as long as I'd like it to be right now, and it rarely ever does what I want it to, I get a lot of compliments on it, so that's cool.
:)
This was hard. I think I realized I don't like too dang much about myself.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Making history
The Subject I love(d) most at college.
I LOVED History of the Cinema! Both classes about it that I took. If you know me, or read my blog at all you know that I love movies. So there was no reason I shouldn't have loved that class. Not only was it about one of my favorite things in the world, it was taught by an amazing teacher, so it was an all around glorious class.
:)
I LOVED History of the Cinema! Both classes about it that I took. If you know me, or read my blog at all you know that I love movies. So there was no reason I shouldn't have loved that class. Not only was it about one of my favorite things in the world, it was taught by an amazing teacher, so it was an all around glorious class.
:)
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Just a short note.
4. A short note to all of my exes.
Dear exes,
Thank you for making me into who I am today.
I'm happy we didn't work out.
-Me
Well that was easy!
Dear exes,
Thank you for making me into who I am today.
I'm happy we didn't work out.
-Me
Well that was easy!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
memmmmorrrrry alll alone in the moooonlight!!
5 most memorable things to happen in 2010:
1. My 21st birthday party! My dad's band played a private concert for me and my friends at a pool party. It was amazing! I had my friends, family, and just an all around great time! I can't wait for the next go around...well my 22nd. :)
2. Having my heart broken the final time by someone and then getting over it.
3. Moving into my first house. Even though it's just a renter, it's see an awesome step in life.
4. My Big Dip ceremony in May! I got my mentor ring from SFA. It's a huge step in life to have a college ring and I'm very proud of myself.
5. Going to throw a few together...Seeing Taylor Swift, Gary Allan, Lady Antebellum (twice), Miranda Lambert, Kellie Pickler, Gloriana, David Nail, and Eric Church in concert. :)
1. My 21st birthday party! My dad's band played a private concert for me and my friends at a pool party. It was amazing! I had my friends, family, and just an all around great time! I can't wait for the next go around...well my 22nd. :)
2. Having my heart broken the final time by someone and then getting over it.
3. Moving into my first house. Even though it's just a renter, it's see an awesome step in life.
4. My Big Dip ceremony in May! I got my mentor ring from SFA. It's a huge step in life to have a college ring and I'm very proud of myself.
5. Going to throw a few together...Seeing Taylor Swift, Gary Allan, Lady Antebellum (twice), Miranda Lambert, Kellie Pickler, Gloriana, David Nail, and Eric Church in concert. :)
Friday, February 25, 2011
Bad angel get off of my shoulder now
2. Lyrics to a song that fit my current mood/situation
"Bad Angel"
Bad angel, get off of my shoulder
Bad angel, let me be
I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation Street
(Dierks Bentley)
I woke up bound and determined
That I would not light it up today
But one drag would stop my shakin'
Right now I could go either way
Bad angel, get off of my shoulder now
Bad angel, let me be
I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation Street
(Miranda Lambert)
Well the cap is on the bottle
and the bottle is on the shelf
Should I take it or leave it?
Honey, how am I gonna help myself?
Bad angel, get off of my shoulder (get on off of my shoulder)
Bad angel, let me be (oh let me be)
I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation Street
(Jamey Johnson)
Well I know I should not gamble
'Cause I can't afford to lose
She'd hang me from the rafters
By the laces in my old working shoes
Bad angel, get off of my shoulder
Bad angel, let me be
I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation Street
Yes I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation
Temptation and Salvation
Temptation and Salvation Street
"Bad Angel"
Bad angel, get off of my shoulder
Bad angel, let me be
I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation Street
(Dierks Bentley)
I woke up bound and determined
That I would not light it up today
But one drag would stop my shakin'
Right now I could go either way
Bad angel, get off of my shoulder now
Bad angel, let me be
I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation Street
(Miranda Lambert)
Well the cap is on the bottle
and the bottle is on the shelf
Should I take it or leave it?
Honey, how am I gonna help myself?
Bad angel, get off of my shoulder (get on off of my shoulder)
Bad angel, let me be (oh let me be)
I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation Street
(Jamey Johnson)
Well I know I should not gamble
'Cause I can't afford to lose
She'd hang me from the rafters
By the laces in my old working shoes
Bad angel, get off of my shoulder
Bad angel, let me be
I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation Street
Yes I'm standing at the crossroads
of Temptation and Salvation
Temptation and Salvation
Temptation and Salvation Street
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
It's the start of something new
My horoscope for Feb. 23: You see what's wrong and you know what to do now. The time has come to make it real, and it's a lot bigger than any one person. Be cautious, emotions, perhaps coming from another person or event, oppose your life dreams and stifle any imagination you may have. This can result in an emotional confrontation. Ambition, practicality, and achievement are admirable, but they are means to an end - not ends in themselves.
Well I'm not sure how accurate this is going to be, since I haven't done anything today. Considering its 4 in the morning and I still haven't gone to sleep from yesterday. I'm trying to think about what's wrong. It could mean my job. It could mean that I just need to go up to work, get my last paycheck, and quit. That would make sense because that would be a very difficult thing to do, even though I know I need to do it.
It could also mean a few problems I've seem around our roommate situation. Nothing too harsh, but I think if I do confront people about it, there will be serious "emotional confrontation".
I suppose we'll find out in the morning...er...later today.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Valentine's Day
Today is Valentine's Day. I've gone through a range of emotions already today and it's only 3PM. Considering I got out of bed at noon, that's pretty early to me.
I woke up mad. Mad that I woke up alone. Mad that everyone was posting "Happy V-day!" on their facebook walls. Just mad.
Then I hit the "I don't care if I'm single, I'm going to have a good day" phase. I took myself to Ihop and had chocolate chip pancakes. They were yummy.
On the way back home I turned sad. The stupid radio always gets me. Sometimes I'm happy for the love songs, but other times they just hit you the wrong way.
So here I am, stuck at work, sad.
I don't want to be like some people and say that I'm happy I'm single, because I'm not.
But I don't want to sit an whine all day either.
Unfortunately I'll end up doing the latter. I'll probably go buy myself some chocolate covered strawberries tonight and watch a sappy movie and cry.
So, yeah...Happy Valentine's Day.
I woke up mad. Mad that I woke up alone. Mad that everyone was posting "Happy V-day!" on their facebook walls. Just mad.
Then I hit the "I don't care if I'm single, I'm going to have a good day" phase. I took myself to Ihop and had chocolate chip pancakes. They were yummy.
On the way back home I turned sad. The stupid radio always gets me. Sometimes I'm happy for the love songs, but other times they just hit you the wrong way.
So here I am, stuck at work, sad.
I don't want to be like some people and say that I'm happy I'm single, because I'm not.
But I don't want to sit an whine all day either.
Unfortunately I'll end up doing the latter. I'll probably go buy myself some chocolate covered strawberries tonight and watch a sappy movie and cry.
So, yeah...Happy Valentine's Day.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Introduction
I’ve always thought of my life as the biggest movie of all time and myself as the tortured, hopeless-romantic, damsel-in-distress waiting for her prince charming to come make everything make sense. Of course, in my head prince charming looks a lot like Matt Damon, sings like Michael Buble’, and treats me like Tom Hanks treated Meg Ryan in every movie ever.
In reality I’ve just kissed a lot of frogs, more than I’d like to admit.
My first boyfriend and I had the makings of a storybook romance. Third grade boy meets third grade girl and they chase each other around on the playground and then they stick together through all the tough times of fourth and fifth grade. He buys her necklaces, she buys him cologne, they have a million chaperoned “dates”. Then one day at lunch during sixth grade the boy (oh who am I kidding...) Andrew sits with another table full of girls. A week goes by and we stay separate during lunch every day. (Lunch was always the cruelest part of the day in Jr. High). One day two girls turned around to me and said, “Andrew doesn’t want to be your boyfriend anymore.” I was so shocked. We’d spent three wonderful years together and it was over just like that? I was devastated. I barely made it off the school bus before I burst into tears and ran into my mom’s arms.
That was my first encounter with boys being complete jerks.
Over the years things just got worse.
Later on in my sixth grade year I fell in love with an older man, an seventh grader. He had band the period before I did so every day my best friend, Shanna, and I would wait outside the band hall for him to walk past and when he did we would giggle and blush all the way to our seats. One day I even said hi, and of course the giggles came harder. Looking back now I realize that 11 year old Jordan had no game (not that 21 year old Jordan really does either). Being in a small school, everyone knew of my obsession and it became a sort of joke. At the Valentine’s dance that year my friends got him to slow dance with me to Selena’s “Dreaming of You”. I was in heaven, but after that he rarely gave me the time of day. I pined over him for two years. When he graduated from Jr. High, so did I, I began dating a Sophomore in high school. Today he’s happily dating my old best friend Shanna. Funny how those things happen.
These days I wouldn’t call him a jerk, but back then I thought the fact that he wouldn’t date me was the worst thing in the world and I cried myself to sleep many nights. I don’t know how many times I’ve thought the worst thing possible was happening to me, but I think that’s one of the biggest things you have to know about me, I’m a bit over dramatic.
Back to that Sophomore. His name was Clint and he was one of my mom’s actors in the play “Hillbilly Hankerin”. He and I hit it off pretty quickly and he had a truck, so I thought I was set for life. We started dating in December and things went south in May. After 5 months and 11 days it ended with me saying over the phone, “Now don’t you go and tell your little friends that you broke up with me because I’m clearly breaking up with you”. (I thought I was feisty for a 13 year old.) After that I ran into the living room, into my mother’s arms, bawling. Even though I’d claimed I did the breaking, I blamed it all on him.
I know, still a bit over dramatic, but 13 year old me swore up and down that no guy was ever going to date her ever again. Luckily (or not) for me a few have since then.
This brings us to the beginning of the core of my story. This is also the beginning of my high school years.
As I mentioned before, I was in band. I played the the flute and couldn’t wait to march with the Mighty Leopard Band at Van Vleck High School. The band begins marching practice during the summer before school actually starts, so I had to opportunity to meet a few upperclassmen before I had to walk through the front doors of the school for the first time. Since this is where my “movie life” begins, let me paint the picture for you.
The scene is set in a small band hall: beige walls, dirty white tiles, black chairs and instrument cases strewn around carelessly. Students milling about reuniting with friends they hadn’t seen all summer long. There’s an old raggedy couch along one of the walls with seniors sprawled across it, clearly marking their territory and young freshmen hanging around them, trying to get noticed. A few over-achievers are already putting their instruments together, talking about music they’d like to play for contest, and then actually playing a few songs from past years.
Amongst all this is me. Even though I had a lot of friends growing up, I was always a shy girl and never liked to walk into places alone. I can’t quite remember how I arrived at the band hall that summer morning, it all blurred together once I saw him.
In reality I’ve just kissed a lot of frogs, more than I’d like to admit.
My first boyfriend and I had the makings of a storybook romance. Third grade boy meets third grade girl and they chase each other around on the playground and then they stick together through all the tough times of fourth and fifth grade. He buys her necklaces, she buys him cologne, they have a million chaperoned “dates”. Then one day at lunch during sixth grade the boy (oh who am I kidding...) Andrew sits with another table full of girls. A week goes by and we stay separate during lunch every day. (Lunch was always the cruelest part of the day in Jr. High). One day two girls turned around to me and said, “Andrew doesn’t want to be your boyfriend anymore.” I was so shocked. We’d spent three wonderful years together and it was over just like that? I was devastated. I barely made it off the school bus before I burst into tears and ran into my mom’s arms.
That was my first encounter with boys being complete jerks.
Over the years things just got worse.
Later on in my sixth grade year I fell in love with an older man, an seventh grader. He had band the period before I did so every day my best friend, Shanna, and I would wait outside the band hall for him to walk past and when he did we would giggle and blush all the way to our seats. One day I even said hi, and of course the giggles came harder. Looking back now I realize that 11 year old Jordan had no game (not that 21 year old Jordan really does either). Being in a small school, everyone knew of my obsession and it became a sort of joke. At the Valentine’s dance that year my friends got him to slow dance with me to Selena’s “Dreaming of You”. I was in heaven, but after that he rarely gave me the time of day. I pined over him for two years. When he graduated from Jr. High, so did I, I began dating a Sophomore in high school. Today he’s happily dating my old best friend Shanna. Funny how those things happen.
These days I wouldn’t call him a jerk, but back then I thought the fact that he wouldn’t date me was the worst thing in the world and I cried myself to sleep many nights. I don’t know how many times I’ve thought the worst thing possible was happening to me, but I think that’s one of the biggest things you have to know about me, I’m a bit over dramatic.
Back to that Sophomore. His name was Clint and he was one of my mom’s actors in the play “Hillbilly Hankerin”. He and I hit it off pretty quickly and he had a truck, so I thought I was set for life. We started dating in December and things went south in May. After 5 months and 11 days it ended with me saying over the phone, “Now don’t you go and tell your little friends that you broke up with me because I’m clearly breaking up with you”. (I thought I was feisty for a 13 year old.) After that I ran into the living room, into my mother’s arms, bawling. Even though I’d claimed I did the breaking, I blamed it all on him.
I know, still a bit over dramatic, but 13 year old me swore up and down that no guy was ever going to date her ever again. Luckily (or not) for me a few have since then.
This brings us to the beginning of the core of my story. This is also the beginning of my high school years.
As I mentioned before, I was in band. I played the the flute and couldn’t wait to march with the Mighty Leopard Band at Van Vleck High School. The band begins marching practice during the summer before school actually starts, so I had to opportunity to meet a few upperclassmen before I had to walk through the front doors of the school for the first time. Since this is where my “movie life” begins, let me paint the picture for you.
The scene is set in a small band hall: beige walls, dirty white tiles, black chairs and instrument cases strewn around carelessly. Students milling about reuniting with friends they hadn’t seen all summer long. There’s an old raggedy couch along one of the walls with seniors sprawled across it, clearly marking their territory and young freshmen hanging around them, trying to get noticed. A few over-achievers are already putting their instruments together, talking about music they’d like to play for contest, and then actually playing a few songs from past years.
Amongst all this is me. Even though I had a lot of friends growing up, I was always a shy girl and never liked to walk into places alone. I can’t quite remember how I arrived at the band hall that summer morning, it all blurred together once I saw him.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Stand Still, Look Pretty
Stand by for important words from Jordan after this short song lyric break.
:)
I want to paint my face
And pretend that I am someone else
Sometimes I get so fed up
I don't even want to look at myself
But people have problems that are worse than mine
I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time
And I hate the way you look at me I have to say
I wish I could start over
I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
You might think it's easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty
Sometimes I find myself shaking
In the middle of the night
And then it hits me and I can't
Even believe this is my life
But people have problems that are worse than mine
I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time
And I wish that everyone would go and shut their mouths
I'm not strong enough to deal with it
I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
You might think it's easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty
-------
Now while I didn't write that song, I can relate to it in every way possible.
Sorry it's been so long that I've blogged. I wish I could say that it's because I've been incredibly busy, but I really haven't. I mean, I've started a new semester of college, I go to work a few times a week, but that's about it. Other than that I watch tv and just hang out with friends. I've just been trying to re-analyze my life. I'm tired of the way I look at myself and portray myself to others. I feel that I always talk about how much I don't like my life, how sad I am. Well even if I am sad about things at times, I'm living my life. I'm happy on the normal day to day.
They say you're supposed to discover yourself sometime in your life. I can tell you that I haven't discovered myself yet. I know what I, the 21 year old, wants out of life, but I don't know what I'm going to want 5, 10, 50 years down the road.
I'm sure things won't change drastically after a while, but I'm currently waiting for a "kick". You know like in "Inception", the slight jerk or fall that makes them wake up from the dream. Of course this is more of a blur than a dream.
I feel that at this young of an age I shouldn't consider my life a blur. I'm not sure that anyone should ever consider their life a blur. We all only get one life. You should document every day and cherish every thing you do. You'll never, ever have another January 27, 2011. Ever. That day is gone. Forever.
So here's what I did today:
Woke up at 9am. Ok, my alarm went off at 9am, I rolled out around 9:35am after a few rounds with the snooze button. Showered, got dressed, grabbed a redbull and headed to my first class. As I sat in Convention and Meeting Planning, not texting on my phone (the teacher said she will take it up high school style if she catches us), I planned out a centerpiece for a table at the VV Senior Serve. One of mom's students asked her to help with his table, and since I'm the "party planner" of the family, I get the task. I'm really happy about it though because this is the sort of thing that I love.
After that I left class and called and talked to my parents for a bit as they packed for the convention they are attending this weekend (TETA). I then dropped Truckie off at WalMart to get his oil changed and I moseyed around the store while I waited. Decided to buy the "Steel Magnolia" cd because I'm a fan of their first song, and thought it would be handy to sing along with in the car. Man was I right! When I got back in Truckie and popped the new cd in I was very happy with my decision. After that I made another decision: to eat lunch at a restaurant alone. Shocking, I know. But I did it. Had nachos at Posados all by my lonesome. It was refreshing actually. Spent a little more than I wanted to, but I enjoyed it. After dropping the leftovers back off at home I walked around Hobby Lobby for a while, just browsing. Promise. I then had the best idea I think I've had all month. I was going to vacuum Truckie out and run him through the car wash.
Let me tell you, I felt like the coolest person in the world doing this all by myself. I just imagined every guy that drove by me while I was doing this was thinking, "wow, that girl really knows how to take care of her truck. I need to give her my number". Of course no one did, but it helped me work. My new cd helped me work as well. And it didn't hurt that it was one of the most beautiful days I've seen in years. I had planned on running Truckie through the plain ole' Laserwash, but when I drove up the machine wouldn't take my money so I drove across town to the new "Zippy's Express Wash" and let him ride the conveyor belt through one of those really cool long "ride-thru" car washes. Man, after an oil change, a clean out, a vacuum, and a 5-star washing Truckie was on cloud 9!
After my grand adventure around town I settled down for a bit and went to my evening class for a little over an hour then hit up the sushi place with Stevie around 6. After sushi we watched an episode of Dexter then ran to the redbox to rent "The Kids Are All Right" and into Kroger to get some ice cream. I was disappointed in Kroger because they weren't carrying the brand of Vanilla Bean that I usually get. I ended up trying something new that was called "Madagascar Vanilla Bean". I'm not sure why these vanilla beans were from Madagascar but it set Stevie and me talking about the film and we decided she's the Hippo and I'm the Zebra. For obvious reasons...to us, that is.
While watching the Oscar nominated movie, (Yes, that's the reason we grabbed it. Trying to watch all the best picture nominees before the awards) the lesbian couple call each other by the pet names "chicken" and "pony", so naturally Stevie and I assign names to each other, she "pony" and I "chicken". We then decided to change our phones to our new names so when we call or text each other we will see our pet names. But as we did this we thought of other girl couples that we've assigned to each other. I ended up changing her name to "Pony/Ellen/Ellie" (Ellen DeGeneres and Ellie from Cougar Town) and she changed me to "Chicken/Portia/Jules" (Portia, Ellen's wife and Jules, Ellie's bff in Cougar Town. Needless to say, we were very proud of ourselves.
After the movie we watched two more episodes of Dexter and are now in bed. Pony/Ellen/Ellie is luckily asleep and I am here telling no one the story of my very full, very tiring day.
So good sir, or lovely lady, if you have read this entire blog, God bless you and yours.
Come back any random day where I just might document something worth reading.
Cheers!
:)
I want to paint my face
And pretend that I am someone else
Sometimes I get so fed up
I don't even want to look at myself
But people have problems that are worse than mine
I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time
And I hate the way you look at me I have to say
I wish I could start over
I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
You might think it's easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty
Sometimes I find myself shaking
In the middle of the night
And then it hits me and I can't
Even believe this is my life
But people have problems that are worse than mine
I don't want you to think I'm complaining all the time
And I wish that everyone would go and shut their mouths
I'm not strong enough to deal with it
I am slowly falling apart
I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start
You might think it's easy being me
You just stand still, look pretty
-------
Now while I didn't write that song, I can relate to it in every way possible.
Sorry it's been so long that I've blogged. I wish I could say that it's because I've been incredibly busy, but I really haven't. I mean, I've started a new semester of college, I go to work a few times a week, but that's about it. Other than that I watch tv and just hang out with friends. I've just been trying to re-analyze my life. I'm tired of the way I look at myself and portray myself to others. I feel that I always talk about how much I don't like my life, how sad I am. Well even if I am sad about things at times, I'm living my life. I'm happy on the normal day to day.
They say you're supposed to discover yourself sometime in your life. I can tell you that I haven't discovered myself yet. I know what I, the 21 year old, wants out of life, but I don't know what I'm going to want 5, 10, 50 years down the road.
I'm sure things won't change drastically after a while, but I'm currently waiting for a "kick". You know like in "Inception", the slight jerk or fall that makes them wake up from the dream. Of course this is more of a blur than a dream.
I feel that at this young of an age I shouldn't consider my life a blur. I'm not sure that anyone should ever consider their life a blur. We all only get one life. You should document every day and cherish every thing you do. You'll never, ever have another January 27, 2011. Ever. That day is gone. Forever.
So here's what I did today:
Woke up at 9am. Ok, my alarm went off at 9am, I rolled out around 9:35am after a few rounds with the snooze button. Showered, got dressed, grabbed a redbull and headed to my first class. As I sat in Convention and Meeting Planning, not texting on my phone (the teacher said she will take it up high school style if she catches us), I planned out a centerpiece for a table at the VV Senior Serve. One of mom's students asked her to help with his table, and since I'm the "party planner" of the family, I get the task. I'm really happy about it though because this is the sort of thing that I love.
After that I left class and called and talked to my parents for a bit as they packed for the convention they are attending this weekend (TETA). I then dropped Truckie off at WalMart to get his oil changed and I moseyed around the store while I waited. Decided to buy the "Steel Magnolia" cd because I'm a fan of their first song, and thought it would be handy to sing along with in the car. Man was I right! When I got back in Truckie and popped the new cd in I was very happy with my decision. After that I made another decision: to eat lunch at a restaurant alone. Shocking, I know. But I did it. Had nachos at Posados all by my lonesome. It was refreshing actually. Spent a little more than I wanted to, but I enjoyed it. After dropping the leftovers back off at home I walked around Hobby Lobby for a while, just browsing. Promise. I then had the best idea I think I've had all month. I was going to vacuum Truckie out and run him through the car wash.
Let me tell you, I felt like the coolest person in the world doing this all by myself. I just imagined every guy that drove by me while I was doing this was thinking, "wow, that girl really knows how to take care of her truck. I need to give her my number". Of course no one did, but it helped me work. My new cd helped me work as well. And it didn't hurt that it was one of the most beautiful days I've seen in years. I had planned on running Truckie through the plain ole' Laserwash, but when I drove up the machine wouldn't take my money so I drove across town to the new "Zippy's Express Wash" and let him ride the conveyor belt through one of those really cool long "ride-thru" car washes. Man, after an oil change, a clean out, a vacuum, and a 5-star washing Truckie was on cloud 9!
After my grand adventure around town I settled down for a bit and went to my evening class for a little over an hour then hit up the sushi place with Stevie around 6. After sushi we watched an episode of Dexter then ran to the redbox to rent "The Kids Are All Right" and into Kroger to get some ice cream. I was disappointed in Kroger because they weren't carrying the brand of Vanilla Bean that I usually get. I ended up trying something new that was called "Madagascar Vanilla Bean". I'm not sure why these vanilla beans were from Madagascar but it set Stevie and me talking about the film and we decided she's the Hippo and I'm the Zebra. For obvious reasons...to us, that is.
While watching the Oscar nominated movie, (Yes, that's the reason we grabbed it. Trying to watch all the best picture nominees before the awards) the lesbian couple call each other by the pet names "chicken" and "pony", so naturally Stevie and I assign names to each other, she "pony" and I "chicken". We then decided to change our phones to our new names so when we call or text each other we will see our pet names. But as we did this we thought of other girl couples that we've assigned to each other. I ended up changing her name to "Pony/Ellen/Ellie" (Ellen DeGeneres and Ellie from Cougar Town) and she changed me to "Chicken/Portia/Jules" (Portia, Ellen's wife and Jules, Ellie's bff in Cougar Town. Needless to say, we were very proud of ourselves.
After the movie we watched two more episodes of Dexter and are now in bed. Pony/Ellen/Ellie is luckily asleep and I am here telling no one the story of my very full, very tiring day.
So good sir, or lovely lady, if you have read this entire blog, God bless you and yours.
Come back any random day where I just might document something worth reading.
Cheers!
Friday, January 21, 2011
One of the best men who will ever walk this earth
I love this man.
He sings the songs that get me through the day.
Gary Allan is my rock.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
What a trip
I love when I find something that I didn’t know I needed.
I planned to spend the rest of my weekend partying with friends and possibly not remembering any of it. It was Rugbyfest, what better to do, right? Last minute on Saturday night I decided to splurge a little and drive myself to the state line to see my grandparents in Louisiana. It was the best idea I’d had in a while. Driving the two hours to their front step was the most liberating thing. I got to jam out and just be myself for a full 120 minutes. Gosh I needed it. And I didn’t even know it till after it happened.
What is it about driving that makes me feel free? Is it the fact that I’m flying down the road at 70 miles per hour? Is it that I can turn my music up as loud as I want and it doesn’t bother anyone? Whatever it is, I absolutely love it.
While in visiting my grandparents my Grandmother and I took a trip to WalMart. There I learned one of the great things about Louisiana: liquor in the grocery store. As I was walking and gazing into all of the beautiful bottles of wine that I’m used to on the alcohol aisle I ran into a bottle of Jack Daniels. It didn’t quite click at first till I saw a bottle of Crown. I looked back, thought for a second and remembered that in Louisiana they can sell liquor in the grocery stores. I then quickly decided that I needed to buy something. I found a bottle of Belvedere and he was glued to my hand. Half the price of the one I bought in Texas for my birthday! Then I saw the Nuvo. It’s shiny pink bottle called to me. It went straight into the basket. Lately I’ve been craving Tequila Rose so I looked around for the tasty treat and found it sitting on a lower shelf, patiently waiting for me, so it joined the Nuvo in the basket and I sadly put the Belvedere back by the Ciroq. My reasoning was that I already had a Belvedere bottle for my collection and wasn’t going to buy three bottles of liquor on a WalMart trip with my Grandmother; two was plenty. I would have felt bad, but Gran herself had put some gin in the cart first. Needless to say, I’m going to have a few great nights in Nacogdoches once I get home.
I also splurged on the new Taylor Swift cd. I’ve been trying to avoid it, and I had done a good job so far. But I had a good tip night at work on Saturday and money burns a hole in my pocket, so here I am sitting on the bed listening to Taylor sing me into a blissful coma. I wish and pray to God every day to give me her talent. The way she writes her songs just gets me. I try to write my best, and in prose pieces it works, but I can’t write a song to save my life.
And I’d love to. I’d love to sit down and pour my heart out into a song, pick up a guitar, add music and sing it for the whole world, for my friends, just for myself.
I planned to spend the rest of my weekend partying with friends and possibly not remembering any of it. It was Rugbyfest, what better to do, right? Last minute on Saturday night I decided to splurge a little and drive myself to the state line to see my grandparents in Louisiana. It was the best idea I’d had in a while. Driving the two hours to their front step was the most liberating thing. I got to jam out and just be myself for a full 120 minutes. Gosh I needed it. And I didn’t even know it till after it happened.
What is it about driving that makes me feel free? Is it the fact that I’m flying down the road at 70 miles per hour? Is it that I can turn my music up as loud as I want and it doesn’t bother anyone? Whatever it is, I absolutely love it.
While in visiting my grandparents my Grandmother and I took a trip to WalMart. There I learned one of the great things about Louisiana: liquor in the grocery store. As I was walking and gazing into all of the beautiful bottles of wine that I’m used to on the alcohol aisle I ran into a bottle of Jack Daniels. It didn’t quite click at first till I saw a bottle of Crown. I looked back, thought for a second and remembered that in Louisiana they can sell liquor in the grocery stores. I then quickly decided that I needed to buy something. I found a bottle of Belvedere and he was glued to my hand. Half the price of the one I bought in Texas for my birthday! Then I saw the Nuvo. It’s shiny pink bottle called to me. It went straight into the basket. Lately I’ve been craving Tequila Rose so I looked around for the tasty treat and found it sitting on a lower shelf, patiently waiting for me, so it joined the Nuvo in the basket and I sadly put the Belvedere back by the Ciroq. My reasoning was that I already had a Belvedere bottle for my collection and wasn’t going to buy three bottles of liquor on a WalMart trip with my Grandmother; two was plenty. I would have felt bad, but Gran herself had put some gin in the cart first. Needless to say, I’m going to have a few great nights in Nacogdoches once I get home.
I also splurged on the new Taylor Swift cd. I’ve been trying to avoid it, and I had done a good job so far. But I had a good tip night at work on Saturday and money burns a hole in my pocket, so here I am sitting on the bed listening to Taylor sing me into a blissful coma. I wish and pray to God every day to give me her talent. The way she writes her songs just gets me. I try to write my best, and in prose pieces it works, but I can’t write a song to save my life.
And I’d love to. I’d love to sit down and pour my heart out into a song, pick up a guitar, add music and sing it for the whole world, for my friends, just for myself.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Blogging
I have been trying to blog for at least the past two weeks. I can't ever make my mind up about what I want to blog about. I don't want to sound redundant and write about the same thing all the time: I'm sad, I'm lonely, I want a boyfriend. I want to write something profound. Something that people will read, then sit back and go "wow, I never looked at it that way before". I've been told I don't need to push it. It'll come to me when I'm not trying. But still, my fans beckon me and I need to write something.
My indecisiveness about what to blog about did lead me to confront myself with the fact that I am not very good at making up my mind. It doesn't matter what it is. Let's go with a general example here. This morning I woke up in time to visit a couple friends at work before I started my day. I didn't want to waste time with taking a shower so I brushed my teeth, fluffed my hair and began the long staring contest with my clothes.
I looked at the pile on my couch, didn't see anything that appealed to me. I kicked around the lump of half dirties on the floor and decided on my favorite pair of jeans that I'd worn on Tuesday. Then I got to the closet. The t-shirts, sweaters, jackets, and other assorted tops glared at me, all calling to be worn. The problem this morning was that I didn't want to look like I was trying to look good. I wasn't going to waste time on make-up and my hair looked rough, so my outfit couldn't outshine my face. With everything in the closet looking too nice or too warm for the day I turned back to the lump of half dirties. I pulled on my cut-up, off the shoulder Old Navy sweatshirt thinking that it looked raggedgy enough to pull off the grunge look I was going for. I then remembered that I wore it on my quick trip to Kroger the night before, and also around the house all day on Tuesday, and to sleep on Monday night, my friends were probably getting tired of seeing it (and it should probably be washed).
Then I had the great idea to put on a relatively cute top with nice shoes so it would look like I care at least a little bit about how I appear to others. Like Oprah says, you never know when you're going to meet your Prince Charming, so you always need to dress to impress. I reached into the closet for my old standby, a pink, patterned shirt from Lane Bryant that is cut just low enough to let people know I'm a woman and flows out just enough to hide the biscuits and gravy I had last night. I looked in the mirror at myself, thinking I was ready to run out the door when I then realized that I had a huge black streak on the side of my pants. I'd worn them when I was painting with Caroline on Tuesday and they were now showing how artsy I am. I threw them back into the half dirty pile thinking that I needed to move them into the completely dirty pile and grabbed a pair of capris that I'd worn the day before. I moved back to the mirror and changed my mind again. The shirt coupled with my natural face made me look washed out and like I didn't know fashion at all. It had to go.
I was just about to crawl back into bed and forget all about the friends that I'd hoped to see before I had to get to work when I spotted my dad's old Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt laying on top of my clean pile of clothes. It, coupled with a green tank top, would be the perfect choice for my morning on the town. No one can blame me for looking bad because I was supporting my team (even though I'm one of the few that still do).
I re-fluffed my hair, all the changing had flattened it again, slipped my pre-tied tennis shoes on and ran out the door.
So, as I said, I'm completely indecisive. Even when it comes down on how to look grunge enough.
And in complaining about having nothing to blog about it seems that I found something to say. I may not be able to make up my mind up about what to blog or what to wear but I sure can ramble on about things.
My indecisiveness about what to blog about did lead me to confront myself with the fact that I am not very good at making up my mind. It doesn't matter what it is. Let's go with a general example here. This morning I woke up in time to visit a couple friends at work before I started my day. I didn't want to waste time with taking a shower so I brushed my teeth, fluffed my hair and began the long staring contest with my clothes.
I looked at the pile on my couch, didn't see anything that appealed to me. I kicked around the lump of half dirties on the floor and decided on my favorite pair of jeans that I'd worn on Tuesday. Then I got to the closet. The t-shirts, sweaters, jackets, and other assorted tops glared at me, all calling to be worn. The problem this morning was that I didn't want to look like I was trying to look good. I wasn't going to waste time on make-up and my hair looked rough, so my outfit couldn't outshine my face. With everything in the closet looking too nice or too warm for the day I turned back to the lump of half dirties. I pulled on my cut-up, off the shoulder Old Navy sweatshirt thinking that it looked raggedgy enough to pull off the grunge look I was going for. I then remembered that I wore it on my quick trip to Kroger the night before, and also around the house all day on Tuesday, and to sleep on Monday night, my friends were probably getting tired of seeing it (and it should probably be washed).
Then I had the great idea to put on a relatively cute top with nice shoes so it would look like I care at least a little bit about how I appear to others. Like Oprah says, you never know when you're going to meet your Prince Charming, so you always need to dress to impress. I reached into the closet for my old standby, a pink, patterned shirt from Lane Bryant that is cut just low enough to let people know I'm a woman and flows out just enough to hide the biscuits and gravy I had last night. I looked in the mirror at myself, thinking I was ready to run out the door when I then realized that I had a huge black streak on the side of my pants. I'd worn them when I was painting with Caroline on Tuesday and they were now showing how artsy I am. I threw them back into the half dirty pile thinking that I needed to move them into the completely dirty pile and grabbed a pair of capris that I'd worn the day before. I moved back to the mirror and changed my mind again. The shirt coupled with my natural face made me look washed out and like I didn't know fashion at all. It had to go.
I was just about to crawl back into bed and forget all about the friends that I'd hoped to see before I had to get to work when I spotted my dad's old Dallas Cowboys sweatshirt laying on top of my clean pile of clothes. It, coupled with a green tank top, would be the perfect choice for my morning on the town. No one can blame me for looking bad because I was supporting my team (even though I'm one of the few that still do).
I re-fluffed my hair, all the changing had flattened it again, slipped my pre-tied tennis shoes on and ran out the door.
So, as I said, I'm completely indecisive. Even when it comes down on how to look grunge enough.
And in complaining about having nothing to blog about it seems that I found something to say. I may not be able to make up my mind up about what to blog or what to wear but I sure can ramble on about things.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
insomnia?
I hate sleeping alone. Especially when I'm in a sad mood.
I wish there was someone to put their arms around me and hold me tight and tell me that everything is going to be alright.
When I'm feeling alone in the world the last thing I need is to lay down by myself for 7ish hours. I need to be told that I'm not alone. I need to be comforted.
I don't mean to sound needy, but I feel like that's the way it should be.
I don't mean that I need a boyfriend, but that would be nice, I just need someone to protect me from all the bad thoughts that flood my mind at night.
If only they made teddy bears that held you instead of the other way around.
But alas, I'm going to lay here in the dark and hug my pillow tight and listen to soothing music to lull me to sleep.
I wish there was someone to put their arms around me and hold me tight and tell me that everything is going to be alright.
When I'm feeling alone in the world the last thing I need is to lay down by myself for 7ish hours. I need to be told that I'm not alone. I need to be comforted.
I don't mean to sound needy, but I feel like that's the way it should be.
I don't mean that I need a boyfriend, but that would be nice, I just need someone to protect me from all the bad thoughts that flood my mind at night.
If only they made teddy bears that held you instead of the other way around.
But alas, I'm going to lay here in the dark and hug my pillow tight and listen to soothing music to lull me to sleep.
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