Bring it 26--I'm Not Afraid of You...Most of the Time...

So a week ago, on May 4th, I turned 26 years old. To be such a random, seemingly anti-climatic milestone, it certainly has brought out a gamut of emotions in yours truly. Of course, part of that probably stems from who I am--loud, stubborn, creative, crazy, sassy, angry, sad...like everybody else, only oftentimes 100-fold in intensity (or at least, this is how is feels). Most of the time, like about 80-90% of it, this mix of intense emotions and feelings makes me love the hell out of my life. I have wonderful friends, and a family that I'm finally coming to peace with--well, I'll get to that later. Something about my personality draws people to me much of the time, and I love my life the most when I'm surrounded by friends and strangers and laughing like there's no tomorrow. Perhaps this is the case because, after years of self-hatred and struggling to accept my issues and learning the balance between keeping things bottled up and sharing too much, I've come to realize that every day should be lived as if it's your last--not just because it very well could be, but even more so because this life we're each given deserved to be lived in such a way. Nothing is guaranteed, and never has this been more true than for those of us who have discovered that we were made in such a way that I can be, at times, my own best friend, and at others, the worst of all enemies--sometimes, I'm both at once. I'll say this much for certain-- life with me is, and never will be, boring. Or ordinary, routine, simple. When I enter a room, I like to make a grand entrance; in my hopes and dreams, I also hope that, when I leave a room, people are more than anything sad to see me go.

My 26th year brings with it much more responsibility, primarily financially (but isn't it usually the case that these are closely entwined?), since as of June 1st, 2012, I will be paying for all of my own health insurance (medical, dental, vision). I've paid for all of my own rent, car insurance, cell phone bills, gas, food and entertainment, utilities....well, you get the picture. I've grown quite used to it, and I know that my parents will help me out before they let me starve--after much complaining and making me feel bad about it first, of course. It must be said that I'm grateful in that I'm very respectful of money and very careful with my own (most of the time anyway--haha), and I'm extremely responsible in terms of work, friendships, keeping home--all of that sort of thing. People my age often have a shock coming to them after they get out of school (grad school or whatever it may be) and they have to learn to handle their money years after my brother and I did--all at an age where there is much more to lose than at, say, 15 years old. I didn't have that shock, though that's not to say it still doesn't hurt when a particularly large expense comes up or that I don't yearn to own things or go places that are in no way in my realm of reality for now....or for a very long time. Working all the time and barely scraping by isn't always fun, but that is why I choose to work at a place that I love with people that are amazing and good friends; it is also why I find a way to reward myself with something small with each paycheck (if possible--and usually it is)--a book, a $5 movie, a night out playing pool with friends, more organizational stuff (shut up)...little things, but so rewarding all the same.  Maturity has helped me take each new year in stride (for the most part), but sometimes I truly wish my parents had helped me and Brent out a little more over the years for the fun stuff. I had a stellar education, and they paid a fortune for it, but I wish I'd been able to go to more football games at Ole Miss, or more trips while at GPS. I wish I wasn't still made to feel bad for occasionally needing help; sure, I know that if I really need it (often for food or gas), I'll get help from my parents, but I wish we could skip the making me feel worthless for a couple of hours or days beforehand--especially since it is so rare, and I ask for so little each time ($20 is the average). It makes me want to shout, "Okay! I get it! Money is important, and it's better when it's earned, and y'all shouldn't have to bail me out of a bind ever..."--you get the idea. Except that I think they should sometimes. I work very hard, usually leaving for work before 10 AM and not returning home until well after 10 PM. On Wednesdays, I leave for work at 5:45 AM to arrive by 6 to sort the truck and get my specialist stuff out--most of it before we open at 10 AM. Usually, I end up staying longer than I'm scheduled, because I'm still a major register force in addition to my Key 6 duties (which, did I mention, I love, love, love doing? Seriously, I adore Key 6. I don't hate the register by any means, but I had no idea how much I'd love Key 6 before I started doing it), so I typically have 2 days on the floor (ie Key 6) and 3 on the register--to get everything sorted and out, and also to work on any new projects/tasks each week. I have a lot of help, both in Key 6 and at the register--I could sing Laura's praises all day, every day for training me well on Key 6 and helping me out even now when I need it, and we have some new register people who are stellar, and helpful, and respectful, and willing to listen to me (at nearly 3 years primarily on register, I am by far the most seasoned at it in our store--most burn out after 6 months to a year). These people are all my friends so nobody misconstrue any of this rant as in any way negative towards them OR my job. I love it all, and (for the most part, usually) I'm good at it. The point is, I do work hard.My parents are well aware of this, so sometimes I wish they would both acknowledge my efforts and show that they are proud of me and also...cut me some damn slack when I'm not perfect with my money every second of every day (or, I don't know, when gas prices shoot up seemingly overnight and I simply can't keep up for that week).

I'm well aware, especially at this point in my life, that much of my anger towards them stems from their unwillingness (inability as well?) to acknowledge all of my psychological issues at all. They constantly write them off, no matter what they are. I get it, you don't want screwed up kids, but you got them--and ignoring the issues and belittling them as individuals only creates more problems and exacerbates the ones that already exist. By trying to pretend they don't exist, you've helped make the problems so much worse and infinitely longer lasting. I wish my mom would admit that she had eating problems--pictures and little offhand comments don't lie. The thing is, I'm so much stronger because of my past, and I'm currently at a great place psychologically (both in how I express myself and work through problems, and in terms of medication), and that is almost entirely my own doing. I took the initiative and got tested (and my parents not only doubted the results of several professionals, but still continue to insist that the anxiety, depression, and ADHD don't exist), and I personally seek out emotional help in times of stress. Whether I have the backing or belief of my parents or not, I know what it feels like to see in yourself no other escape than cutting or starving yourself. I know how much it slowly destroys the soul to be your own biggest adversary. And I know how much it rips the heart apart to see the complete and utter sadness etched into the faces and woven into the hugs of your best friends when you go through periods of what seems like bottomless and hopeless relapses and it seems you will never be reached. Though I know it's silly, part of me is--and always will be--intensely worried about what I've done to the spirits and hearts of my best friends, and I will spend every day trying to thank them for helping me, believing me, loving me. I never want them to understand my darkest moments, but I'm constantly looking for a way to let them understand how wonderful it feels when they help me back out into the sunshine. They try so hard, and I love that they believe I am worth it. Regardless of how my parents and other family members want me to feel about it, I DO NOT AND WILL NEVER REGRET MY PAST. I AM NOT ASHAMED OF IT. I AM PROUD TO HAVE SURVIVED IT, AND TO STILL BE SURVIVING IT. I AM STRONG, AND I HAVE MY PAST TO THANK FOR THAT. Sure, I regret moments, things I've said, the way I've handled things--but my demons? No, not even a little.

What completely destroys me however, is the knowledge that--without at least their acknowledgment of the severity and reality of my issues, past and present, and even more so their admittance in their involvement of the issues themselves (not in causing them--that was all me--but certainly in exacerbating them to the extreme)...without these occurrences, I can never truly overcome my issues. I can fight them, and I can win much of the time. Even if everything came together and my parents stepped up to the plate, I'm aware that they are lifelong struggles. I'm not afraid of that. What I fear is that, as they continue to reject the things about myself I most know to be true, I will having a harder and harder time overcoming the itching, ever present feeling that I am not important, that I don't even exist. If those parts of me that so help define me continue to be rejected as true and real, I fear I will believe them in time. Don't misunderstand--I'll always (at least on a subconscious level) know that I am loved, appreciated, and respected by so many. My fear of feeling not real is far scarier than that, and much deeper. I began cutting myself years ago in large part to remind myself that I exist; if I bleed, if I hurt, if I can cry--I am a real person, worthy of all that entails. The deepest and darkest of my depressions don't reside in a sad or angry place; instead, I stumble into a black hole, and I feel nothing. I'd rather feel the most distraught of sadness or the meanest of angry a million times over than to be devoid of emotion. I don't interact with the outside world, and I don't feel part of it. More often than not, I have to physically be pulled out of it; as I get older, I can sometimes do this myself, but often I continue to need help. This dark hole is a rare presence in my life (much rarer than in years past, or even months past), but it remains as strong as ever. Stronger sometimes. I'm always afraid I'll tumble into a dark hole, and be unable to resurface. I'll be alive, but I won't be me. I'll be quiet instead of loud, hateful instead of loving, exhausted instead of exhausting. I fear it, yet I continue to beat it. Even amidst my fear, I have every belief and hope that I'll always beat it--but I know that it is a very real possibility that, one day, I could just be WRONG about that. Like I said, the support or even acknowledgement from my parents wouldn't be a cure-all, nor a guarantee, but somehow I know that if I had it, I may be able to get to the point where I'm never (or very rarely) afraid of that dark hole. Sure, it would still exist. I could still fall into it. But the freedom of NOT FEARING IT--well, I can only dream.

I have no idea how--or why, for that matter--my blogs always go from short and sweet to long and (semi) venting. Apparently, I have a lot to say...ALL THE TIME haha. Of course, this is probably the biggest factor behind the infrequency of my blog posts. They take hours, and while they are intensely therapeutic and helpful, they are exhausting. There are only a couple of people who read this blog at all, and perhaps one or two with any sort of regularity, but those who do must think I'm all kinds of nuts. Luckily, these people know me well, so naturally they already discovered long ago that I'm just a wee bit crazy, mostly in a good way (I hope!), not to mention the fact that I do not readily give out this URL anyway. It is a public blog, and as of right now I have no plans to change that fact, and I never will make it private unless it becomes a HUGE issue for an extended period of time--meaning, if my safety or that of those I love is ever threatened, I would make it private. Honestly though, I have no fears. My life, while unique and interesting to those in my inner circle (and perhaps to others, especially should they stumble upon it while in the midst of their own struggles, similar to mine or not), is not globally (or even nationally) vitally important by any means. Since I haven't posted this URL on Facebook and never intend to (I also ask that nobody else do it either, unless you ask me first and you have it set to certain people) and I've personally given it out to a handful of people (like probably few enough to count on two hands), I have little fear of feeling the need to change anything about this blog as it is. I'm aware that people will lead others to my blog, and that's fine. All I ask is that nobody clue in my family, particularly my parents; my brother is another story, and at one time or another he has known the URL and accessed the blog, and that's never a problem. He may still know it, and if he doesn't, he is always welcome to that information. He and I understand our family and childhood, the world, and each other in a way that is completely unique. I love it and I hate it--but I will always love him. It never fails to amaze me how alike we are in terms of caring for others, and wanting to give back, and in being so accepting, and especially in our shared disdain of the judging of others. We were raised by wonderful, hilarious, insanely smart parents--who sometimes I think may have been better off not having children. They are awesome to their friends, but much of their world is a show. Their best friends have been the same for years--many they knew before any of them had kids--and it's fun and interesting to see them all interact. Thirty years (and 10 and 20 years in other cases) is a long time for any kind of relationship, especially friendships. There is a different kind of love, patience and understanding that sets the stage for such long, true friendships. I respect them in that way, and in many ways, I emulate how they interact and treat their friends with my own precious friends. That all being said...my parents' friends (and let's be honest, my parents themselves much of the time) can be incredibly fake towards the outside world, and I sometimes wonder how much of that (and how often) spills over into the lives of the others. Appearances and their importance are tricky subjects for me, and I fully acknowledge that I'm often naive about such things, but I'm learning. I think all of us will always be learning about so many things--at least, I hope we (especially me) always strive to--and how the world views us ranks right at the top in terms of things that are ever changing and often lead to sticky situations. I work with the public every day, and have for 11 years now (restaurant chains, waiting tables, retail), so I have a pretty good understanding of how fabulous and also how terrible strangers (and family, friends, acquaintances, etc.) can be to each other. People get nasty when they are made to wait for their food, for example, and don't care to hear about the accident with an employee and a slicer in the back, or that you ran out of something, or that others have been waiting for far longer than they have, or that IT'S A GAME WEEKEND IN A COLLEGE TOWN SO FREAKING DEAL WITH IT. In retail, people get angry about the weirdest things, and it's a balancing act that constantly requires revision dealing with the public. About 75-85% of the time, I love people. I've been surprised hundreds of times over by the kindness of others, or their interest in me, or in their ability to bring me to tears with words and actions to loved ones that they don't think twice (or don't think about at all in some cases) about putting on display. Of course, all it takes is that one VERY nasty person to ruin your day, or at least (these days after lots of practice in calming down) your interactions with the next few people you must help after they leave. Again though--the reactions of contempt from strangers who stand up for you without being asked or even expected when others take nasty to a whole new level, well, few things make me feel more special, or important, or in a way, loved. For every awful customer there are 10 wonderful ones, even if it's not readily obvious.

**SIDE NOTE: PLEASE ALWAYS BE NICE TO THOSE SERVING YOU, NO MATTER WHAT THE CAPACITY OR SITUATION. THEY ARE PEOPLE TOO, AND HAVE OTHER THINGS GOING ON. DON'T MISUNDERSTAND--I'M NOT TELLING PEOPLE TO TAKE CRAP FROM PEOPLE SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU ARE IN THEIR WORKPLACE...JUST BE KIND.**
(There have been times that I have been snarky to those waiting on me at various places--usually at fast food drive thru lanes for some reason--and often will turn back around or drive back through the lane to apologize. I'm sure they see me coming and are waiting for rudeness or yelling, and it too often surprises them to hear me admit fault. Being on both sides of such situations, I can truly tell you that words can not describe how much it means when customers do the same for me-- it's the little things people, and an apology can completely change somebody's day for the better, or help them feel important once again.)

Anyway, see what I mean about the long posts? Haha, I can't help it! Really though, I started talking about the public because of the importance of how others view you. Appearances matter, and I'll be the first to admit that. I think we all need to be flexible enough to work with others, no matter where or when. It's important to not offend others, or hurt the feelings of another just to make yourself feel better (never understood this by the way). That being said, I refuse to change the core of who I am or go along with a trend or idea to make life easier for myself or others. My beliefs are important to me, and I will stand up for them, as I think everybody should. But I try not to offend others, and though I know I often still fail in this regard, I'm growing out of this as I get older. Those who first meet my parents (new work friends, for example) love my parents--and who wouldn't? They are fun and exceedingly nice to strangers and those they know alike. Those that really know them, however, are harder to convince when it comes to liking my parents. Some of my friends all but hate them, but these friends are the ones who have had to argue with my parents about how they talk to me, or present me to the world, or most of all how they make me feel about myself. These friends have had to literally pick me up from the floor where my parents words and actions have left me, and they've wiped my tears more times than I can count after my parents succeed in ruining my good mood in under ten minutes. I believe these friends do not hate my parents per se, but instead just love me too much to get too close to them. Their love of and for me far overrides any feelings towards my parents, good or bad. My brother gets this, but he is far away (10 hours in the car, approximately). Also, there are aspects he does not understand, because I haven't let him. For some things, I haven't let anybody understand. I'm working on that though. All in all, my brother and I seem to be overly giving and loving and trusting and respectful (most of the time!), because we want others to feel how we were never allowed to feel--needed, wanted, loved, respected, believed, and understood. I guess I have to thank my parents for instilling all of that in us, even if they did it completely backwards, and typically without knowing they were or meaning to show us any of it.

I feel bad ranting about my parents so much, because they are wonderful people. It's just that the hole they have ripped open in me is a tough problem to fix, and in regards to anything personally psychological, I remain a little kid in how I feel and deal with those subjects. Sometimes, I act like a 7 year old when it comes to them; even as people are telling me to not care or worry about it, I always will. Many of these feelings of inadequacy and self-contempt have roots beginning when I was about 7 years old (or before, in some cases), so that little kid brand of pouting is mixed with very real adult emotions and problems. But only sometimes, of course. I genuinely love going to my parents house to watch DWTS and just catch up on Monday and Tuesday nights (when I can make it). My mom makes something delicious for dinner (and frowns when I get seconds), we drink some red wine, and lounge. It's great, unless it isn't. At 26 years old, now that I'm more friend than child to my parents, I'm glad that they are mine. The pain they caused or helped cause doesn't go away, mind you, but the older I get, the more human my parents become. They had lives before me and my brother were born, even before they met or had dreams of a family, and they both suffered different, but very sad, forms of, well, abuse, at the hands of their parents. Though they got spanked with belts, and my mom still has scars from the fingernails of her angry mother, most of the abuse they received was psychological, emotional, and mental. Oh, patterns in behavior. I'm lucky--and very glad--I was raised by them and not by their parents. My grandparents are cool--well, since I really have little contact with my mom's parents (none with her mom since I was 19) and have a love-hate relationship to say the least with my dad's mom (she likes to make up stories, and we are always the bad kids for some reason) and barely remember my dad's dad, since he died right before I turned 11, I guess I can say they were cool. I have fond memories with and of them, just none in the past 7 or so years. They are strange people, and I commend my parents for turning out even kind of normal.

Anyway, I sort of just realized that I need to make a concerted effort to blog at least twice a month--once a week would be even better, but let's not get crazy here! I just have too much to say, and it would probably all be better expressed in 1-2 hour increments instead of 6-8 hour chunks of time. I'll work on that.

In conclusion, however, 26 isn't so bad so far. We'll see how I feel when those insurance premiums start draining out of my paychecks, but for now--I'm okay. Wiser, funnier, smarter--and all while many think I'm still 21 or 22! As I've grown up, I've become better at doing just that. It sounds strange, but for someone who always so hated change, I've actually come to accept it better, and in some cases, embrace it.

Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Can we somehow come up with a way to have 30 hours in a day instead of 24?

First things first, it's been entirely too long since I blogged--as per usual, haha. This time around, however, the craziest of my schedule is about 90-95% to blame. Here's the thing--I LOVE being busy, I thrive when working on roughly 5-20 projects, I'm so much happier overall when my life is hectic. Once again, this is why I will forever and always be grateful that I was properly diagnosed (once I took the initiative to get myself tested, since my family kept me from doing so for quite sometime---or you know, the first 23 years of my life) with moderate to severe ADHD and set up on a medication schedule. It took very little time--maybe a couple of months to get the strength and dosage quantity ideal for my body, mind and schedule--but I never regret going through 5 rounds of testing followed by a stair step method of trying out the medication to get to where I am today. People hear about the 5 rounds of testing and they outwardly, dramatically groan as if to sympathize with me. I then get to correct them and explain that, not only is this the proper process of diagnosing and treating anything medical and/or psychological, but also that I requested that my doctor test me for as much as he saw fit. On my mother's side, I have an aunt who is severely bipolar with schizophrenic tendencies (the bipolar disorder was exacerbated by improper medication and entirely too much of it from a very young age; the schizophrenic tendencies were created almost entirely by these medication issues--especially after they started being obvious, and the solution chosen for her was to medicate more and more); on my father's side, I have an alcholic aunt (my dad's twin sister actually) who began her struggles at the age of nine. My dad's brother is a whole different story--I'm not even sure what his issues may be, especially since I haven't seen him since I was roughly 12 or 13, by his choice. For sure, he's got some deep-seated repression issues. My mother's mother is very likely bipolar herself, but she's never been diagnosed--I haven't spoken to her since Christmas 2005, when I was 19. She has missed so much--as did my grandfather because he refused, until very recently, to even attempt to reach out to us, citing that "he had to live with her" (ie, my grandmother) as the reason (so yes, he lacked any balls at all). He and I have reconciled (he also now speaks to my mother, whom he didn't speak to in this time either), but I will never trust much of my extended family ever again. The decision to cut ties was pretty mutual, though I have no idea if my grandmother realizes this--she probably thinks she just gave us a big "F you" this entire time. Sometimes, I'm sad when I remember that she missed my graduation from Ole Miss (she grew up right outside of Oxford in Abbeville--in the house I lived in for about nine months in 2005, right before everything went to hell with the family)--as did my grandfather, who is the very reason I'm a 3rd generation Ole Miss Rebel in the first place.
{Side note: I love this story. My grandfather grew up in Chicago, and when it came time for him to pick a university, he wanted to find the most southern school he could find, with the perfect southern hospitality and a less hectic way of life than he was accustomed to in his youth. Naturally, he chose Ole Miss and fell in love with it, which admittedly is pretty easy to do. When my mother was looking around at universities, my grandfather said--only half joking--that she could go to any school as long as they didn't have a tiger as a mascot . She visited and actually really liked Alabama, but her heart loved Ole Miss. When I was college "hunting", I simply stepped on the campus early in the morning to go to the Turner Center to work out--oh, the dedication and drive of my teens!-- and knew I was home.}

Not only that, but my 2os are something they know nothing about, nor have really bothered to ask about in any way. Though my decision not to speak to them was rash, I don't regret it nor do I think I was being immature by deciding to cut ties with them--the words they said to me can never be unspoken, and the emotions behind them make it impossible to believe they used those words to achieve anything other than hurting me as much as they could. I may be stronger now, and their words would not cut so deep if they said them now, but even if it were the case that this falling out happened now as opposed to 6 years ago, the end result would be the same. I've never hated as she hates, and I hope to never hurt anybody as they hurt me.

But I digress! The above stories make up a good bit of why I'm happy I went through such rigorous testing and now, nearly 2 years later, I'm still so proud that I got tested in the first place. My love of being busy would not be possible if I could not stay on task, and the anxiety and depression would creep up much too quickly. Nothing is perfect, of course, nor will I ever be completely free from that anxiety or depression or so many other things, but I can handle them now. I get to win over and over again in the battle for my sanity. Nothing can take that away from me. I can be an individual and not be afraid of who that person may be. Of course, when I fall, I fall down pretty hard. I don't have relapses and episodes every other day anymore, so every few months when I have the feeling that I may relapse at all, I just down completely. I'd rather feel intense sadness or pain or anything that constitutes a real feeling than to feel, quite literally nothing at all. Luckily, I'm getting much better at keeping these at bay these days, and I have incredible friends who help pull me through them when I need help. My friends are wonderful for so many reasons, but if I had to choose a single reason why they hold such a special place in my heart, it is how willing they are to simply listen. Words can sometimes fail us, but that true, patient, loving ability to listen--completely and without personal motive--well, all I know is that for me, that has yet to fail me. It's not that I need to feel important (though it doesn't hurt!), or even special or unique in my pain; I've learned that I sometimes just need to be reminded that I am heard when I need it the most. Sad as it may be, I've accepted that there is a very good chance that I'll never stop needing--albeit, only occasionally--that I am real. That I am here. That I exist. There are worse things to need.

But yes, busy doesn't even begin to describe the chaos I call my life these days. Controlled, well organized chaos that is...covered in post it notes. I thrive on this, and I have people who understand me. People that enjoy my company, and love me. People that don't mind having to remind me that not only am I real, but that they wouldn't want to live their lives devoid of my presence. I wouldn't want to imagine my life without them in it either.

Because of these things, I am grateful. More than anything, these things and people remind me that I've found peace within myself, something I for so long didn't believe existed. And, of course, that even if I'm in a place full of anxiety, there is always a way to find that peace again. I'm capable of reaching it, even if it seems impossible to do so at the moment. I know I can, because I've done it before. I've always had help, but I'm no longer seeking to reach a point of not needing that help. I finally believe that needing others means you are that much stronger, and very, very real.

2012 is Shaping Up to be a Busy Year!

Over the past few years, I've learned a thing or two about myself. Most of these things seem to deal with my mental/emotional health, my relationships with others, and the like. But one kind of fun trait I've discovered in myself is my love of organizing, planning, and being busy with a variety of activities (thus, the 4 blogs haha!). As such, I now own 6, yes SIX, planners/calendars. One is my wall calendar (HARRY POTTER BABY!) that hangs on my refrigerator, the second is a tear off calendar full of book suggestions (for fun and for SCI, let's be honest) and coupons for my work as a bonus, 2 are in my phone--one is called "free time" and it allows me to program my activities for the day/week/month/etc. and shows me how much free time I have allotted for each day and so forth (read: not much--by choice!) and the other is the standard calendar that comes on the iPhone (which I really only use to put stuff in so I won't forget it on the random and rare days when I don't have another planner with me or when it's simply faster to key it in there and put it down on paper later), one is a small purse planner that goes through 2013 (the spaces are small, so I really just use it to pencil things in well in advance)--I never thought I'd need to schedule things so far in advance, but getting older lends itself to that haha, and last is my favorite planner of all. It's my "The B Word: You Say I'm a Bitch Like It's a Bad Thing" mega purse planner, and I LOVE IT. For one thing, the spaces are really big so there's plenty of room to write too many details about everything, which I always do by the way. Plus, there's a full month view at the beginning of each month, so I can still pencil things in and add details/comments on the fuller pages; not to mention, there's a "Notes" page for each month, and a comments section to the side of each page (I use it primarily to pencil in money stuff--what bills are due each week, or two weeks by pay check, and my projected "play money" that's left over. For each week, there is an opposing page with an absolutely HILARIOUS quote justifying bitchiness. It's amazing--I just wish they made one that covered 2 years, or at least 18 months! I discovered this same brand of planner last year once all calendars and full sized planners went to $3, and fell in love with it. This year, I bit the bullet and paid more for it--don't get me wrong, I waited until it was half off! HAHA. Anyway, I carry my bitch planner with me everywhere I go pretty much, so I can easily see that 2012 is going to be one hell of a year. I'm not going to list everything, but here's some biggies.

In February, I'm taking the LSAT again. I did well the first time, but if I score roughly 5 points higher on February 11th, I'm eligible for more scholarships! I'm dreading student loans, so any help is fine by me! In the meantime, I'm studying more (of course) and working on the rest of the law school application stuff, especially the personal statement required for each one. Considering the first application (UT) is due ONLY FOUR DAYS after I retake the LSAT, I've got my work cut out for me. (Side note: I'm applying to four law schools: UM, UT, Memphis, and Samford). Not that work will slow down to help me out, naturally, but I've found I work better when I'm busier--it keeps me more structured. I have a lot of work and personal (fun!) days planned for January, so YAY!

In March, I'm going to Washington, D.C. for Jamie's Bachelorette Party, and I can't wait! I'm going to use some of my vacation days so it won't be a rushed experience--I haven't been to D.C. in forever! The following Sunday, March 25th, I'm going to a baby shower for a work friend...or maybe hosting it at my house. Just 3 days after that, Holly turns 21 and I'm throwing her a big party (probably either the 30th or 31st).

April will be nervewracking, as I await responses from the law schools in regards to my LSAT scores/applications. Fingers crossed already! Plus, of course, Karen's birthday is in April, so I've got some present planning to do. Hopefully, my tax return will be in my bank account by mid-February, so that should help all of this a bit--though I'm going to have to put much of it away for a car.

In May, I turn 26...and my life will change a ton. Oh, did I mention I have 2 dentists appointments between now and May, and I have to schedule a gyno appointment as well? Oh, and I've already begun to tentatively plan Kristin's Bachelorette Party, since she got engaged in December and asked me to be her MAID OF HONOR! She said the wedding wouldn't be for at least a year--probably longer--but a good Bachelorette Party equals early, thorough, intense planning starting NOW. I'm totally stoked!

Anyway, that's just a smattering of what lies ahead for me in 2012. I'm so excited to jump right into the madness. It's gonna be a BIG, AMAZING year!

A Quick Christmas Recap

Well, Christmas has come and gone for another year. It makes me sad and relieved at the same time. The fact is, Christmas is stressful no matter what you do for a living, or how your family acts during the festivities, or what kind of presents you receive from loved ones. I'm pretty sure retail ranks up there in the challenging holiday jobs department, but I still love it for some reason. I think it's because I see so many good people rise to the occasion, and get to laugh at those who make the holidays a million times worse by being jerks--or that try to anyway. And I love my work friends during the weeks leading up to Christmas, as we all humorously lose our minds together. Group delirium and the subsequent laughter at work? Priceless.
As per usual, there was drama in my family during Christmas Eve AND Day, but I will still--as always--take away only fond memories from it all. It's what I do--it's what a lot of people do--and it was mostly great anyway. Of course, it doesn't hurt that I RACKED UP during Christmas. Gift cards galore, adorable (and much needed) new clothes and shoes...and a brand spankin' new 32" flat screen, no glare TV. I'm in love with it! The multitude of DVDs I also received are being enjoyed a million times more by me due, in large part, to this new TV.

Anyway, I'll write a longer post later to share some of the funny stories from the Christmas season, but for now, I've got lots to do on my day off. Can't wait for CHATTA NEW YEARS!!

I'm getting too old for all of this, or is it too young?

Life can be pretty tough sometimes, and it is always going to be unpredictable. These are the things--among others--that make it interesting and fun, sad and often seemingly unbearable. I've known this for a long time; it was taught to me practically from birth, and then instilled further in me by the lessons of my parents: namely, having to get a job at the age of 15. Though I had my moments of hating working in those early days, usually when I had to miss out on a school dance or some other naturally life changing (haha) event, I found that I thrived in the workplace pretty much from the get-go. Customer service was, and still is I hope, my thing. I love interacting with people and (usually) spreading as much joy as possible. I've worked in fast food, upscale restaurants, and those oddly misplaced in-between ones that don't seem to fit into any category of restaurant exactly. I've worked countless registers and numerous customer service desks. I've been doing volunteer work for as long as I can remember, namely, spending 40 hours a week during the summer when I was 13 volunteering at a daycare near my parents' jobs. I've cleaned houses, condos, and apartments, and I've also been the head cleaning lady/maid for an awesome bed and breakfast--where I often pulled double duty by serving the rich at upscale shindigs hosted at said B&B. There have been moments I've wanted to rip my hair out--or really, the hair of so many, unnamed obnoxious, cruel, etc. etc. customers, but in the end, I've loved each and every job.

Like I said, customer service seems to be my thing, which probably helps explain why I dove so passionately into psychology and resurfaced with both a bachelors of arts degree in the subject and and intense, ongoing love of all things psychological. People often seem shocked that I'm working in a bookstore after I've already gotten my degree, but these people should realize that well over half of the staff in my store alone have college degree in a diverse, amazing group of subjects. And, if any of those shocked customers stepped back and used their own intuition, they would realize that I employ the use of that degree every single day; honestly, most days I use it multiple times each hour of every day. Because I'm not working directly in my field, people assume my degree is being wasted.

It's not. It certainly isn't the way I imagined I would be using it, but I wouldn't change my experiences for the world. Even now, as I'm trying to branch out (LSAT) towards "bigger and better" things, I realize that those aren't the right adjectives to describe my new quest at all: "different and slightly unnerving" probably fit better. Though so many try to make me feel-- intentionally or not--that what I'm doing isn't good enough (read: you have soooooo much potential! what a waste of such intelligence! blah blah blah!), I don't feel the same way at all...and haven't for quite some time. I love what I do, and the family I've created for myself at work, and one of the hardest parts about even deciding to TAKE the LSAT was knowing that, eventually, I would have to leave my home at the bookstore--and more upsetting, my family there--behind in order to take such a leap of faith. The thing is, I want to try law because I think I would be good at it, and I believe I could help a great deal of people, especially using the psychology and law together. Dubious looks abound from strangers, family members, friends, your mom...when I tell people wanting to help others is my primary reason for wanting to take such a risk. Everybody assumes, and many opt to voice loudly, that it has to be because I want to make more money more than anything else. Seriously??

I won't even try to lie and say I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to not have to, quite literally, live paycheck to paycheck. My bank account the day before pay day usually ranges anywhere from $10 to, no lie, 6 cents. It would be wonderful to make unexpected plans with a friend to go out for dinner and drinks and not have to spend an hour budgeting before I go. I'd love to be able to travel and see my friends in their hometowns nowadays without worrying that I won't be able to eat anything but Ramen noodles for the next 6 months. And I would have loved to have been able to buy a (new to me) car when my other one broke down after 16 years of life, instead of having to bum off my parents for the use of their truck (which they are very, very generous with, but that's not the point). Do I think about money? Naturally. Do I worry far too amount and much too much about money almost everyday? Probably. Am I alone in either of these things, even remotely? Not by a long shot.

I'm not one to pine away for a spoiled rich life, living in a house with dozens of rooms and several brand new, high end cars. I don't care to have a yacht (though I'd totally love some Sea Doos... some day). Flashy jewelry doesn't really suit me; it clashes too much with my flashy personality.
I love nice jewelry, and even own a few pieces, but I wear the same rings and bracelet everyday, and I used to wear the same necklace everyday for nearly two years. I don't feel the need--or want--to show off to people in that way, and I'm actually way more turned off by people greedy for money than I could ever be turned on by what Mr. Trillionaire buys me. These things just aren't my style, and I hope they never really are. I love nice things, especially clothes and shoes, but I don't need a wardrobe that could leave me showing up to the next three years' events never wearing any same stitch of clothing; I wouldn't do it anyway. I appreciate money, and I respect what it means for society as a whole, but I'm not a slave to it, and I plan to keep it that way. The fact of the matter is, of course, that money really does matter to most people in the world; oftentimes, it holds more value to those people than family, friends, God...you name it. It is for those people--the ones who so clearly don't get what is important at all--that I most feel sorry. Between losing friends over business deals and getting constant requests for handouts, that life made so rich by cash and changes turns out to be so poor in the things that matter most. I mean, what's the point of having a yacht if there's nobody to enjoy it with you? What kind of loser needs a yacht when nobody wants to talk to him or cuddle with him or anything. Yay for you and your giant boat...I'll be over here talking to real people and being what used to be called "social". It is unfathomable to me what it would feel like to not laugh (almost) every single day, to squeal with joy for a friend's good fortune, hold their hand (literally or metaphorically) when life becomes (hopefully briefly) unbearable, have debates and learn new things...basically, I don't ever want to think of a world or a life where my amazing friends aren't there forever (well, as forever as it can). I miss GPS, and Ole Miss is rooted in my heart causing an intense drive to get back there to live, but I'm no longer afraid of what new adventures and risk taking will bring; the friends who have known and loved me for years are the first ones in line to cheer me on during my triumphs and behind me to catch me if I fall. My bookstore friends have joined these ranks as well, and in June I will CELEBRATE 3 years there.

So no, it is not an easy decision for me to make, and I won't even let myself think of how much of a mess I'll be when (and if!) the time comes to bid adieu to my wonderful job. Even as I know I've formed forever friendships, and built up good references professionally along the way, and even though I know time and distance do little to destroy strong friendships like mine, the leaving won't be any easier. I'm fully aware of this--I just choose to think of other things at the moment. It's months away at the earliest, and time goes by fast enough without me speeding it along with my thoughts.

Sometimes, I feel like I have far too much responsibility AND restrictions at age 25, this is life. Money can be a real bitch, and I'm becoming more and more convinced that the economy will never, ever be anywhere near "fixed", at least not in my lifetime. This is not to say that I'm all la-de-da about finances; in fact, I'm anything but that. When my store didn't make percentage last week--and I very nearly doubled service leader with over a 6%, so WTF?--I could have totally sworn actual steam was pouring from my hours for a couple of hours. Because for so many of my coworkers, especially the young ones, the amount of money I'm losing out on every time that happens (and worse, cumulatively) doesn't seem to be within their realm of understanding--or caring. But when I lost out of just under $100 of extra money in my account because they don't feel the need to push for such things as discount cards, or my family Christmas for that matter. The thing is, I'm glad we are a little less tough on mess ups and blips in performance than we used to be, but 3 years ago when I started (after the 3 month probation period), I got a write up for missing percentage 2 weeks in a row. Again, I think that may have been a little harsh and too early in my career for that...but I'd gladly trade that for now. People don't make percentage for weeks, and since much of the blame is deflected to me as head of ATR and I try to use constructive criticism to make positive changes when it does, they continue to perform like that--and get worse and worse, most times--because they have nothing to be afraid of. I always hated the idea of write ups, until I realized their importance to the store--and company--as a whole (as long as it becomes constructive and not suicidal inducing). A team should work together--and more importantly, WANT to work together. A write up isn't always terrible, and it doesn't mean you're on your way to the unemployment office. Much of the time, it really means we like you enough to want to give you ways to change the problem, so that you can stay rather than losing you as an employee. So, I guess...write ups for serial offenders and disastrous occurrences and not all the time, but write ups need to come back. My GM is incredibly fair and respectful of everybody. Nowadays with the obvious difference standards (especially for register people who both want and can work ) , or criterion rather, for being a successful employee, everybody should realize that if the GM has to give you a write up, it's because you slacked off on what you should be doing; family medical problems and the like are handled very differently and almost always honored if at all possible.

Plus, I'm sick of cleaning up other people's mess first thing in the morning, and somtimes having to do reshop too, all while always being the one to stock everything and also, you know, WAIT OF PEOPLE. One of the primary reasons I created the register communication log back in the summer was to ensure this time of year would go as smoothly as possible...or people could just ignore it, not make percentage, and never seem to make the connection between the two. Believe it or not, I know a thing or two about the registers--after nearly 3 years, moving up to register specialist, taking care of the ATR and oftentimes saving the store from percentage doom--there are few things I can't handle or understand register wise. So how hard is it to just do a few things I ask? We get paid the same amount to do VASTLY different jobs, so get your head in the game a little. At least I know that my bosses and my bosses' boss truly feel awful when I don't get my money because of others--and they relish in the times when I do, especially getting to write me a bonus!--and they know I work very, very hard at every aspect of every job I do there; that acknowledgement and gratitude really does go pretty far. And, if everybody helped out up at the register a little each shift, nobody (let's be honest--me) will have to completely gut and reorganize the registers every month or so, and everything will be easier to find! Plus, I'll be nicer, which may seem like a very benign issue--but none of them have seen me truly pissed off before--at least not while they are there--and they are working their way to seeing that side of me pretty rapidly.

But of course, because it's me, I still love these people. I care for the individual first and a corporation later; I just wish others felt--or would act--the same way. Those of my work friends who do not fall into this category have been godsends and every day become more wonderful in my eyes, and we all help each other out as equally as we possibly can. Of course, all of us who do truly care seem to have matching cases of OCD, which helps (and gets annoying as hell) for organizing and making things work smoothly and effectively a great deal--and also gives us the opportunity to show off our organizational masterpieces with others whose level of OCD-ness allows them to totally appreciate every beautiful fixture, endcap, register, cafe, etc. Baby OCD for the win!

Alright, enough with my soap box! I do love my job, and adore the people in my life. I'm also pretty fond of sleep, so I'm going to go get some of that before I head back into work in the morning.

ONLY 10 DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS!! :) :) :)

30 Days of Thanks

So, people on Facebook have been putting their "30 Days of Thanks", posting one thing per day during this Thanksgiving month that they are thankful for in their lives. With my crazy schedule, I've fallen way behind in not even starting on my thankful list, so I decided to just do it all at once on here. There are so many things to be thankful for in my life, and I don't want to miss an opportunity to put a few of them in writing. So, here goes...

1) My amazing, hilarious, creative, lovely family. Quite literally, I wouldn't be who I am without my immediate and extended family, and since I think I'm turning out pretty spiffy, I have to say I owe quite a bit of credit to them. My sense of humor is a great blend of my dad's sarcasm, my mom's quirky wit, and my brother's comedic timing. The intelligence I *hope* I possess is very much due to my parents insistence that I study hard and often, and that I always find ways to apply what I learn in the classroom and out of it to everyday life. Creative writing? Both of my parents, but also from my brother's incredible gifts of poetry and musicality. I'm so thankful, despite passionate fights and heartfelt tears, that we always find a way to find laughter in everything instead of dwelling on the hard parts. I'm so blessed.

2) My honest, crazy, supportive, and loving friends. When things have gotten hard in my life, like really painfully difficult, they are always there to support me with tough love, humor, and just the right amount of sugar coating when needed. I never fear that I'll be mislead by them, but I also don't have to worry that they will say anything to me purely out of spite or just to hurt me. Literally and figuratively speaking, they have in so many ways saved my life. I can never thank them enough, but I will certainly spend every day of my life trying to do so.

3) My "furbabies". Copper and Gus-Gus (and Karma, though she is an outside cat now and actually kind of belongs to my landlord these days) never fail to greet me after a long day of work and/or studying with nuzzles and love. They are my favorite movie buddies, and the best cuddle bugs. There is nothing like the love and affection of animals, and even more so from those who are rescued, as Copper is and Gus-Gus is the offspring of (Karma is the mommy), and I'm so grateful for all they bring to my life. Even if I still hate the litterboxes more than any of chore... okay, cleaning those is pretty much tied with doing dishes. Ugh.

4) My house. I know how lucky I am to get to live in my own house at 25 (with a roommate upstairs, but not really...it's a weird, awesome arrangement), and the rent I pay--which includes all of my utilities too--is kind of incredible. Yes, I clean my landlord's house to knock off part of that, but I'm hardly complaining. Organizing, cleaning, and cheaper rent--kind of three of my favorite things.

5) My job...and all of my coworkers. Having a job in general during this recession is a blessing, so it means even more that I happen to have a job that I adore, where I get to work with some of my very best friends. I'm good at my job, and I get to use my psychology degree all the time in dealing with customers. Leaving it once I (hopefully) get into law school is going to be very hard, more difficult than most people realize and more than I've fully let myself fully comprehend. I know I'll stay friends with these people for years, and since my parents live here, I'll get to visit often...but it will be very hard to not see these people day in and day out. I love what I do, and my slight OCD cringes to think of what will become of those things I care so much about once I'm gone. But I know I'll leave it all in good hands, if I can ever bring myself to do so!

6) My book club, SCI. Not only do I get to keep in touch with four of my best friends, but I'm able to read books I oftentimes wouldn't think of picking for myself. Working in a bookstore, I get lots of book suggestions, so many so that sometimes it is difficult to pick the few I have time to read during any given month. I love the books my friends and I have picked thus far, and I can't wait to see what else people will pick! My sincerest hope when it comes to this club is that it lasts for a long, long time. With all of us living so far away from each other, sometimes the only time I get to talk to these wonderful friends is during our Skype discussions. We always plan on the meetings lasting an hour, but they usually fall much closer to two. We always have to catch up on each others' lives after the book discussion! So totally the best part :)

7) Movies...both my collection and the ones I (rarely, these days) get to see in theaters and at friends' houses. Often, stress relief is most quickly found in a simple movie (or TV show marathon!); other times I really like to pick a movie that challenges me to think deeper, or on a topic that I don't typically give much thought. Plus, movies also help to bring friends and family together, for fun all nighters or lively discussions. Films can be great for healing, learning, and so many more things.

8) Coffee. Yes, so simple and yet...so integral in my life. Caffeine is my friend, always totally has been, but even more so with the chaotic nature my life these days. It's the little things, really.

9) The Holidays, and everything that goes with it. It's true that this time of year can sometimes bring out the worst in people, and I see a good many of those people at work and out shopping, but mostly I see only humanity and love during this time of year. Also, extra holiday money at work is AWESOME!

10) My iPhone. Okay, okay...I know it sounds stupid. I'm just grateful that I have a way to stay in touch with more people more effectively throughout my day. With my e-mail, Facebook, text messages, phone calls, Twitter, blogs...and all the other (clearly too many online services I'm subscribed to...) ways to keep in touch, I don't feel like I'm going to miss out on the important updates in my life. It's a wonderful tool.

11) Facebook (and my laptop). The fact that I'm able to keep in touch with so many friends who live so far away is a blessing. So scoff if you must...but I'm grateful that such a site exists. My laptop helps me update my blogs and brainstorm story ideas and journal entries, and since writing is such an important release in my life, my laptop is kind of crucial. It's getting older and slower, but it has so many memories and documents on it. Simply wonderful.

12) Old TV sitcoms. By old, I mean the ones from my halcyon days--Friends, Will & Grace, Heroes, Home Improvement, Grey's Anatomy (yes, I know it's still on, but it's changed a lot and I don't have time to watch that much TV these days anyway), Seinfield, Daria (miss this one so much!), Clarissa Explains It All, The Secret World of Alex Mack, Are you Afraid of the Dark?, and many others. What's funny is that TV has never taken up too much of my life, and I'm not one to freak out if I miss an episode of something, but these shows brought a good bit of cheer to my life. I mostly don't even get into shows until the boxed sets come out anyway, so the week to week grind isn't pertinent to me. On a side note, I hate commercials even more than ever because I'm not used to them anymore since I watch shows on DVD. Commercials are a bitch! I'm glad that I get the time each week (usually) to watch Dancing With The Stars with my parents (free food AND quality time--double score!), and Tim Allen's new show (drawing a blank of the name right now) is HILARIOUS. I'm glad to see a show that is sitcom format instead of all reality TV. Clearly, I'm okay with some reality TV (DWTS), but at this point I'm really over turning EVERYTHING into a reality show. It's just too much, and it's draining creativity on TV to the point of ridiculousness, and I hate that these "celebrities" with no talent make so much money exploiting themselves, their families, and their friends. I just miss old school TV.

13) Red Wine. No, not in an alcoholic way. I drink FAR LESS than I used to, and I have no real desire to go back to drinking that much at this point in my life. It's just very nice to sit down with a glass or two of wine after a long day and read a book or watch a DVD. It doesn't hurt that red wine, in moderation, is good for the heart and the eyes. Since I'm blind in one eye and have a (very minor) heart murmur, these health perks are kind of awesome.

14) Great makeup. As I get older, I'm much more comfortable in my own skin, but the added spark with makeup always helps cheer me up. There's nothing wrong with wanting to look nice, nor is there an issue with letting it help you feel better about yourself and the world. Plus, makeup is just fun!

15) Fireplaces, and the smells of fall. I'm not a fan of being cold, and my fireplace is one of my favorite parts of my house in large part for this reason. There are few things in life more relaxing and comforting than a warm fire as the weather starts to turn bitterly cold. The smells of fall are just luminous, and just happen to be the first thing that stir up my holiday excitement and help me to be cheerful as opposed to overly stressed during the time of year where happiness should be front and center.

16) Long chats, long letters, long term memories. Sometimes, it's impossible to fit in a three hour phone chat...actually, it's often too hard to do such a thing. I'm okay with that, even as I know one of my favorite ways to bond with friends is through said chats (and even more so in person, but that's even tougher), because it makes it so much more special when I DO get to have them. Of course, because of that whole time issue, long letters help too. First off, I think letter writing is a lost art form, and I don't want it to completely die out with the the digital age. Second, I'm just much better at expressing my thoughts in writing as opposed to speaking--especially when it's particularly emotional. Third, I just love writing, and though I love to get letters back, I don't write them to others assuming I'll get a written response. It doesn't matter, because I know they'll have my letters, and will hear what I mean so much better. That being said, write to me! I do love getting mail OTHER than bills and junk. Both of these things help lead to those long term memories--the ones that give me comfort, joy, and strength forever afterwards. And what gifts could be better?

17) My Mama's home cooking. I don't get it often because of that damn time issue again, but when I do---YUMMY! Not only is my mom an amazing mother and great at her job, she also happens to be one of the best cooks I've ever met. I hope I have retained some of what she has taught me. Many of my favorite childhood memories have their roots in my mother's cooking, and I also learned about how to be healthier from her as well. Two amazing lessons, a gazillion delicious dishes, and one incredible woman. Thanks, Mom!

18) Movie Dates with my Daddy. These are so rare now, but I can still count on a fun night out whenever an action movie (usually the ones based on superheroes!) hits theaters. These "dates" started with the first Harry Potter, continued through college as I would forgo the midnight releases and drive the nearly 6 hours home to see them with him, and ended with the last movie release earlier this year. The original inspiration for these "dates" may be over, but the "dates" have become a tradition. For that--the time we get to spend because of them more than anything--I'm very grateful.

19) Traditions. Much like the daddy/daughter dates, the other traditions in my life are quite meaningful as well. Whether it's Christmas Eve Service, our annual Christmas Eve viewing of National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, DWTS viewings, monthly (or bimonthly, during less hectic times) chats with my brother, SCI meetings, spending the night and watching HP (and talking all things HP) with Laura, Faux Christmas with my GPS best friends, or so many other random traditions, I'm glad to have the stability and somehow the spontaneity that these traditions ensure.

20) "Regulars" at work, many of whom have become good friends. Retail work can be ugly, and people can be outright nasty when they want to be. That's just the truth, and years of working in customer service have taught me patience and understanding, but sometimes...TOO MUCH. My kind regular customers--the ones who know my name by heart and genuinely want an update on my life when they ask, or who bring me cookies when I'm stressed and give me hugs when I'm down--they serve to remind me that there are so many more good people in this world than bad ones. People can certainly get you down, but not everybody is lucky to have customers who help bring you back up. I am, and I'm so blessed.

21) Hugs and "cheek kisses". As much as I love my crazy schedule, I do occasionally just find it all to be too much. Don't forget, I have clinical depression and anxiety and I'm ADHD. My medicine is something I'm lucky to have, and it helps, but sometimes everything comes crashing down at once. It's fairly normal, and it doesn't worry me when it happens--it just SUCKS. Coming into work or meeting a friend somewhere and being greeted with a hug and/or a kiss on the cheek is oftentimes enough to lift me out of the funk. Like I said, it's the little things.

22) TWLOHA, or "To Write Love on Her Arms". Though I'm less vocal about my past than I used to be--not out of shame, but instead out of maturity--but most of it is no secret. I "was" a cutter (I put it in quotes because a relapse is always possible, and I'm well aware of that, but after months without one, I'm hopeful), I had anorexia, bulimia, and exercise anorexia. I still live with the root causes of many of these issues. A lot of aspects of my life--friends, proper medication, future plans, etc.--go into helping me keep my day to day sanity. But I'm one of those people who usually has to learn things the hard way, hitting rock bottom before I can rise from the ashes kind of thing...and TWLOHA saved my life. The organization is a resource for all types of people--self-mutilators, drug addicts, the eating disordered, and so forth--and it's helped in many parts of my life, but the cutting is at the forefront of the issues helped by this incredible group. As a cutter, I never wanted to kill myself; indeed, I wanted to feel more alive, or sometimes, alive at all. I cut to remember that I could feel things, and to cry out for help on my flesh in a way I could never seem to express in any other way. TWLOHA gave me hope, and a support system, and a reminder. Many reminders. In January of 2010, I got "love" permanently tattooed on my left arm--the side of the body that holds all of my self-inflicted wounds. Many think I did it as a way to cut without cutting, and that's not so far fetched. Many people do just that, and then become obsessed with tattoos and piercings. I still just have my ears pierced and 2 tattoos (the first I got when I was 18 in 2004). Part of me wants probably 2 more tattoos max (one HP and maybe one for the NEDA), but I'm in no hurry, if indeed I ever even get them. No, I got my love tattoo because I love, and because the organization means so much to me (for myself but also many other friends). The primary reason, however, is that it reminds me that I am worth NOT cutting, and that I don't need it, and that I need to respect and love myself as much as my loved ones respect and love me. I got it as a reminder not to cut, even when it seems that's the only thing that will help. When things are bad, I am forced to look at it and therefore must think if I REALLY want, NEED, to do it, and though I've relapsed a couple of times, I know tend to pick up the phone and call somebody instead of making that first cut. Because it's never just one cut, and also because that could be all it takes anyway. Like I said--I never wanted to die, but I shudder to think how easily I mistakenly could have. One of the 2 National To Write Love on Her Arms Day (the other is February 13th) is tomorrow (well, today technically), or November 13th. Mine is permanent, though sometimes I still write in anyway on that day, but it warms my heart when friends tell me they wrote love on their arm for me, or for others. Amazing. Wisdom can be strength and compassion...and hope.

24) Hope. Speaking of TWLOHA, I'm so thankful for hope, and for the ability and gift of hope itself. Times are tough, and hope is easy to lose sight of, but it's always going to come back if you let it. I'm grateful that such a thing even exists, and that I'm lucky enough to feel it. I try to give hope to others, and I think I sometimes do, because it's such an easy thing to give and can so quickly change sometimes day, mood, or entire life. Yelling and criticizing are easy; hope and friendliness take work. So work at something. We all need hope in our lives or we can possibly dream of surviving. And giving somebody else something that brings them hope? Priceless.

25) Food. I know, kind of a given...except it's not for so many people. I often complain about how much Ramen I have to eat to save money, and trust me, it's a lot of frickin' Ramen, but really? Some people can't even afford that, and there will always be a hot meal when I need one at the homes of my family and friends. I hope I remember to donate a toy to the Angel Tree this Christmas, along with some canned foods for this season. As poor as I feel (and am, to a large extent), I have so much more than so many others can ever even dream of having. Sharing is a great gift--for the recipient and the giver.

26) My gift of writing. I'm aware that this sounds conceited, but it isn't meant to do so. I don't think I'm the best writer in the world, and I'm definitely not the most prolific, but I'm okay with saying that I'm a pretty fine writer. Being able to express things how I want them to be taken is very important to me, and though people may not forgive me, listen to me, heed my advice, and so on--I'm glad my thoughts can be seen that way. Writing is a comfort for me, and I hope I never tire of it. Time doesn't permit me as much writing as I'd like, nor does the creativity in my mind, but I always come back to it. One of my first loves, my therapy, one of my "vices", my passion, and something that can piss me off quicker than just about anything else--writing is all of these things and so much more. It's my voice, whether people want to listen or not. I love writing to and for others, but this writing thing? It's really for me--to heal, to guide, to accept.

27) The use of my parents truck. In late April/early May, my car died. I could get it fixed, but that would run me about $2000, and as the car is pretty old (it's a '95), it really just isn't worth it. So, I'm going to have to sell my beloved Dixie for parts, hoard most of my tax return, and keep my fingers crossed for more bonuses and such at work. In order to get a new car, which I need regardless but especially if I'm heading back to school, these things will have to be done. Until then, I'm so very, very grateful that my parents let me use their truck, the only other vehicle they have. They work on the same street downtown so they usually ride in together, and I never complain (okay, rarely) when they need to use both cars for meetings or the like, but they still don't HAVE to let me use it. Since I have a lot going on, and also because I get called into work sometimes semi-spur-of-the-moment, it's very convenient. Sure, somebody else is sometimes available to work, but I also need and love the extra hours. Sometimes, somebody from work could pick me up since I live so close, but often it's too big of an inconvenience or there is literally nobody to come get me, and the truck allows me to get in and earn that extra money, or things like that. It's just nice that I have parents who are willing to help me out.

28) The LSAT. It's driving me nuts and totally stressing me out, and it's also giving me a plan and a purpose and motivation. And it also is helping me remember that I'm fairly intelligent and worth a good job. So, while I want to hit somebody much of the time, I'm happy that it has already given me more than I ever expected in positive payback. December 3rd, people! Send good vibes my way!

29) Baths. I don't get to take them a lot, and often I'll get in and immediately feel too hot and get out within 20 minutes. But after a double, or a day of studying, working, and cleaning, or randomly when I just need to decompress (or want to rip my uterus out rather than face my cramps, or do similar to my spine because of my nerve and muscle damage), there are few things more helpful than a bath. Bubbles aren't required, but they certainly are fun. A bath, a glass of wine, a good book--hello, dream Friday night!

30) The United States (and the rest of the world)--and my life in it. I hate politics, and I often think our government is slowly--or, you know, rapidly--sinking us beyond repair. But I still live in the land of the free (thank you, military men and women!), and in a time full of diversity and cultural learning opportunities all around me. I would love to have the money to travel, and someday I think I will, but for now I'm good in the States. As bad as things can--and may--get, nothing on this thankful list would be possible without the existence of a wonderful world--one that continues to thrive even amidst controversy and scandal. It's a world where it is easy to remember and lament what you don't have and forget what you do. Try and remind yourself of your blessings sometimes. It's way more fun than sulking over your misfortunes--and also causes less wrinkles.

So, that's the list! As always, I talked to much about way too many of these, and this is just a dent of my thankful list. There are so many blessings in my life, and though I sometimes forget in the day-to-day things, I never take them for granted.

I know how lucky I am, and I'm thankful. Are you?

Holidays in Retail, LSAT Prep, Oxford Visiting, Root Canals, and Cleaning...Only One of These TOTALLY Sucked!

Life is so crazy right now, and yet, I absolutely love it. Sure, I'd love a little more free time, but whenever I have free time in my life, I always end up finding ways to work more anyway, so....never mind on the more free time thing. Haha. Between work, house cleaning, and (MOST IMPORTANTLY) LSAT studying, I just have a lot on my plate right now. Today was the one day sale at work, and I LOVE those. They completely wear me out for sure, but I love the excitement level and the preparation for the holiday rush that is seriously just around the corner. Plus, I sold 27 discount cards today, making my total 62 for the week, so my spiff pay out (think, in addition to my regular paycheck, and I hit .21 hours of overtime this week too) is going to be $83.75. Hello, Christmas presents! Just one more reason I adore the holiday season at my work. Yes, it is exhausting to work in retail around the holidays, but the pace being heightened helps a great deal, since it means I normally don't actually REALIZE I'm super tired until after my shift. That spiff pay out will also help me make what I hope will be about 20 or so pies to give out to friends and family for the holidays. Also, this was my 24th week of service leader, so if I hit 25 weeks (hopefully next week!), then I get an additional $250 bonus check in addition to the spiff for that week. I generally do pretty well each week during the holidays, so here's hoping! That extra money will help a ton with Christmas, and also for saving towards getting a new car in the early months of 2012. Fingers crossed people! PLEASE!

So, the LSAT is less than a month away, and while I've been preparing like crazy and am feeling more and more confident by the day, I'm still FREAKING OUT. I haven't taken a standardized test in roughly 8 years, so I'm nervous that I just won't do as well as I used to on such tests. Of course, I've been on my ADHD medicine for over a year, so I'm well adjusted to it and I think it will be very beneficial to me in doing well on the exam. Once again, fingers crossed! Actually, even more so on this one, PLEASE! I'm loving the studying process, but it is weird and a little disconcerting that the testing is based mostly on logic and the ability to apply it to common problems and scenarios--which is HARD to study for, believe it or not. I've been doing okay on practice tests, but I do need to get about 18-20 more questions right on the overall exam to get the score I would like to get. Most of those will need to be made up in the logic games section, where you are given one full scenario that you have to "crack" the "code" (of sorts) for and break down the components for in order to answer about 6 questions directly related to said scenario. There are, at least according to the practice tests I've been taking, 4 of these mini "sub" sections, totaling 24 questions overall. If I am able to quickly figure out all of the connections, the 6 questions fly by. Therein lies the problem, unfortunately. Time is not my friend here, and with only 30 minutes to complete all of them, I'm only going to have a little over a minute to effectively answer each question. Of course, I have to set aside time to break down the scenario, and it takes me a long time as it stands right now. Basically, I'm at the point where I'm able to finish 2 of the scenarios and feel pretty comfortable with them, and then I have like 5-7 minutes to do the other two. All I can do is keep practicing, because my only hope is having the logic tools down to a science to save time, otherwise I'm SCREWED. See? Psyching myself out! I've gotta stop doing that!

I visited Elise a few weekends back, and just fell in love with the town of Oxford, MS all over again. I really, really hope I get into Ole Miss Law School, because I'd love to be living there again, especially since I'll get to live with my best friend again. Here's hoping! I'd go into detail on the weekend, but that would take forever and I've gotta get some studying done and get some sleep before work! Suffice it to say that I had so much fun, and getting to see Bonnie too was a great perk--I'm so lucky I have such absolutely wonderful, true friends. I don't ever take it for granted, and I appreciate all the time I get to spend with everybody when I do. Now that we're all older, we are all so spread out across the United States--my closest friends live in Washington, D.C., Pennsylvania, Ohio, California, Mississippi, and Iowa. I mean, seriously? Most I only get to see a couple times a year--at most--so I really appreciate the time I get to see them. Don't get me wrong--I have great friends here, and I love, respect, and appreciate them as well. I'm just starting to realize more than ever how quickly time goes by, and how precious time spent with loved ones really is. Oh, aging!

Cleaning at Amy's is still going well, but last week didn't really work out, because I had to have a ROOT CANAL. No, seriously. Probably the most painful thing I've gone through in my life. The worst part was actually before I got it done, because my exposed nerve literally made me cry pretty much every time I opened my mouth...and then after a while, even when I didn't. I had to leave work early TWICE, and I NEVER leave work early. After the root canal, I had to take the next day off as well, mostly for gum sensitivity. Next month, I have to get the permanent crown put on in place of the current temporary one, and I'm praying its far less painful this time around. Originally, they wanted to do it on December 1st, but two days before my LSAT made me a little nervous, so December 8th it is! The temporary crown is fragile, so I'm being very careful with it. A toothache is NO joke, and I will never doubt anybody ever again who complains as loudly as they wish if they have one. Typically speaking though, my house cleaning schedule keeps me just as busy as we all know I like to be, and it allows me to live in my amazing house for an even cheaper rent rate. Plus, I get to indulge in my love of organizing and cleaning just a little more. To answer your question, I SLEEP LIKE A BABY WITH SUCH A BUSY SCHEDULE.

Now that the one day sale has happened, holiday season at work is upon us. We won't get into the crazy, every day rushes until Black Friday, but it's starting! I couldn't be happier. Now, if my family would just tell me what they freaking want for Christmas instead of the "you can't afford too much, don't worry about it, we just want to all be together for the holidays and that's all that matters" spiel they've been feeding me, I'd be all set.

Fingers crossed again. Just don't hold your breath on this last one.