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.

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!

One of the best men who will ever walk this earth

celebrity profile

I love this man.
He sings the songs that get me through the day.
Gary Allan is my rock.

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.

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.

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.

Tired.

I'm tired of the waiting. I'm tired of trying. I'm tired of being patient. I'm tired of sitting around and seeing everyone get what they want. I'm tired of being the listener, I want to be the talker. I'm tired of everyone else's drama, I want my own.
I'm tired of older, wiser people telling me to wait and things will happen. I think it's about time that something happened. I haven't gotten what I've wanted in about a year. Yes, I've gotten some things that I wanted. I've had good times. But I'm ready for that one thing that will make life right.
I planned on making this a long-wordy blog about things that I want to happen in my life, things that are happening in my life, and random other facts of life, but it's work time. And like always, work gets in the way and makes my life miserable. yay!