Parties at 25 certainly are different from those in years past...

I'm so proud--writing another blog only 4 days after the last one. So, after my lengthy blog on the 5th, I had to work the following day but THEN...I went out downtown to celebrate my birthday with some of my friends and it was so low-key, which was exactly how I wanted it, and I had a blast! It was a completely random group of friends, but luckily I make the kind of friends who can meet new people and instantly hit it off. The group consisted of: Me, Evan (who drove me there and back--whew!), Murphy, Evangeline (who sadly got sick and had to leave early--SAD!), Kayla, Brittany, and Bill. We ate at Chili's, where I decided to have not one, but TWO, specialty (read: GIANT) margaritas--Tropical Sunrise and Chambord 1800--which were delicious but deadly to a girl who rarely drinks anymore, and never drinks tequila at all. Of course, we got queso and chips and salsa, and then I had the chicken crispers for my main dish. After we were done, the group moved to the Big Chill, and this is where Evie left us :(. Everybody but Kayla got the Orange Dream slushie drink thing, and she got the Sangria one. All of them were made with PGA, so we were riding high after those, even though I only drank about half of mine because I was drinking too slow and they wanted to move on. The last stop was Taco Mac--and here my final drink was red wine, my old faithful friend--and this was when Brandi joined us! Even though it was freezing outside, we didn't mind because, well, we were all tipsy, and because we were enjoying the conversation so much. What we DID mind, however, was the fact that it seemed every crazy homeless person spotted us and felt the need to talk to our table. I must say, it was pretty hilarious, but WTF?! Either the number of crazy homeless has exponentially increased since I last "partied' downtown (in December for Erika's bachelorette party), or I was too drunk to notice before. It's weird visiting old favorite bars when you have a completely different outlook on drinking.

Actually, it's a little strange just to revisit those old memories--bittersweet, perfect in my mind, like the stories of another person. In many ways I am a different person from even last year, and even more so from my college days. Granted, I'm still me--adore my friends, love to read, a workaholic through and through, goofy as hell--but I'm glad that I have let the alcohol-soaked days pass me by. My memories from college are excellent, but it exhausts me just to think about the late nights and the sheer number of drinks I used to be able to down without passing out or dying. In many ways, I'm more like my high school self these days than my college self. Instead of drinking to have fun, I let my creativity do its thing...and it usually ends up surprising me. Don't get me wrong--sometimes, drinks are still pretty fabulous ;)

Anyway--I got home after 2 AM on Friday night/Saturday morning and I've worked early in the morning every day since then. Needless to say, I'm excited to have Monday "off" from work--formal work that is. I've still got lots to do--cleaning my house and my landlord (to decrease my rent and save for a car), a few errands to run (grocery store!), and a book club Skype date in the evening. Sorry there aren't any pictures from my birthday party--we all just got so into talking we didn't take any. Oh, old age...haha.

25 Things I've Learned in 25 Years (but mostly since adulthood)

1) Age really is just a number, but the years do start to fly by more and more quickly as you get older. Really, it's the company you keep that allows you to act like a child when you need to rant, a teenager when you need to be silly, and an adult when things need to be serious...I'm so glad I have friends who let me do all of these things--and with style.

2) Being cool doesn't mean you have to follow the crowd; in fact, much of the time the opposite is true. Don't hurt others or disagree to get what you want in life, but don't be afraid to stand up for what you believe in. Also, it doesn't matter what other people consider fun--or even what you may have once thought to be so--find the activities that you most enjoy and embrace them, without losing the ability to compromise.

3) Hangovers DO exist. In college, I could literally party until 6:30 AM, sleep from then until 8 AM, and be up, ready, and at work by 8:30 AM. Looking back, I know I had to completely reek of whiskey and beer, but then again...who didn't? With the exception of a few times--mostly when I mixed a bunch of liquors in a single night--I just didn't get hangovers. Usually, I had a headache that was more of an annoyance than really painful, and typically it was gone within a couple of hours. Now, however, my hangovers last all day and often well into the next night, and usually they pop up after I've been awake for a few hours and think I'm in the clear. Sneaky little bastards. What's more--this isn't really a big deal to me anymore. If I want to drink, I do it in moderation and try to end the night kind of early, drink lots of water and take aspirin before bed, have another glass of water and two more aspiring waiting for me in the morning, and make sure to always eat something substantial before I drink. Occasionally--read, perhaps 4 times a year--I go all out, even knowing about the hangover to come. It's simple really--I just do it before a day off at work.

4) Most of the time, I really like to clean (especially laundry because of the fresh scent and easy feeling of accomplishment). For the most part, I've found a way to enjoy the actual act of cleaning, but it's more than that. I really do feel better coming home to a clean house after work, because it's a great feeling and it also means that I can spend my downtime reading (or watching movies or the occasional TV show) with a glass of red wine.

5) I love to read, and I normally like to spend time with other people who enjoy it too. In reality, this is something I've known all my life, but it has become so much more apparent in the past few years. Just a couple of months ago, my dream of starting a book club--or rather, one that will actually last--became a reality. Even more exciting is the fact that it's a long distance book club--with Iz, Karen, and Jamie. For one thing, finding out what others like to read is always fun, and I always like to try new types of books, but it's hard to branch out on a whim. Naturally, having others pick books for you 3 out of every 4 months is refreshing and interesting, and I still have time to read other things that I am interested in as well. The greatest part, of course, is that I get to keep in touch with my friends a little more, even if it's just for an hour on Skype every month and exchanging e-mails. It's a nice addition to friend time.

6) Reality TV is the devil. Yes, I watch Dancing With The Stars, and sometimes other shows will be on in the background as I'm cleaning, but for the most part, I can't stand them. For one thing, they are about as unrealistic as you can get, and there is enough drama in my own life (even if there's not most of the time--by choice) without adding fake drama on top of it. When The Real World, one of the first reality shows, first came on the air, the "reality" was a lot more real. Of course there was editing and leading questions, but 7 random people really did have to live together in a house and get a job and find out what happened. Now, however, they stage it so that there is usually a flamboyantly gay guy who has to live with a (typically Southern, which is so stereotypical) homophobe of the most extreme kind. Or, there's the over-the-top racist with a overly tempermental black guy (I'm not trying to be racist here, as I've seen it happen with other minorities too, but this seems to be the most common). And of course, there are always at least one--but usually more--slutty girl who drinks too much and hooks up with all the guys (and sometimes the girls) in the house. Actually, there is a lot of sex in general, which is a GREAT example for the targeted audience of teens and young adults. More than anything, I miss the sitcoms of the past that were so awesome that viewers became a part of the life of the show, and felt as if they knew the characters (ie Friends, Will and Grace, Seinfield, I Love Lucy, Laverne and Shirley, etc). There are a few of those still around, and I think (and hope!) that they are making a comeback, but in the meantime I'm really sick of the fact that there is, quite literally, a reality show for everything you can think of--families of multiples, little people, the Kardashians (don't even get me started), people who drive trucks in bad conditions, BRIDALPLASTY, and the list goes on. Where's the creativity? I miss that most of all.

7) Quoting classic, cult, or generally crazy movies is an art form. If, upon meeting somebody for the first time, I can start a quote of a favorite movie and they can finish it--we're soulmates. Not that it's the end all be all of deciding a friendship, of course, but it just means we'll get there faster. Many of these now "older" movies are entwined with my childhood and fond memories, and I love when others see it that way too, or at least where I'm coming from concerning this topic. I know, it's weird, but then so am I. FYI--the same holds true for singing Disney songs.

8) It really is the little things that matter in life. Calling to say a quick hello, sending a letter, offering to buy somebody a drink at work, making an extra espresso shot, doubling back to give a quick hug, letting somebody over in traffic, taking five minutes out of your day to listen to somebody talk about whatever they want, bonding with a stranger over something random (like a book, purse, movie, drink, whatever), complimenting somebody on something little such as a new hairstyle or their shoes, going out for a drink with an old friend just to catch up, writing a letter (a personal favorite of mine) instead of just writing on their Facebook wall or sending a text message, drinking a cup of coffee and watching the sun rise, drinking a glass of wine as the sun sets, hammocks and porch swings, homemade iced tea and lemonade, using a family member's recipe for a favorite dish (like my Nanny's peach cobbler), getting off work at the perfect time to feel the warmth of the sun and the wind in your hair, driving with the windows rolled down and cheesy music blaring, scarves, not having to explain yourself to an old friend--because they just understand, memories, the perfect margarita paired with chips and salsa, good makeup and/or hair days, the smell of fresh cut grass, rainy days with no responsibilities, traditions, becoming friends with your parents and siblings, long walks in pretty weather, swinging like you did before anybody told you it was for children. I used to think only the big moments--birthdays, proms and dances, graduations, getting a new car or house (which is nice, don't get me wrong), and the like--were the parts of life that would mean the most and stay with me the longest. Many of them do, but those little day to day ups and downs, laughter that requires you to catch your breath and tears that subside when others catch you, impromptu sing-a-longs or dance numbers and unexpected heart-to-hearts--these are the spice of life, the memories you wrap yourself in when the world just doesn't seem to understand, the in-between moments that make you who you become.

9) While I may be scatter-brained and have an almost laughable short term memory at times, I have an uncanny long term memory for the things that truly matter. When people think it doesn't matter, or that my grief has shielded kind words and words of wisdom, I remember. The hugs that allow me to breathe and think of the important things are etched in my memory. Late night gab sessions and the laughter of friends forms the melody that lulls me to sleep at night. Every time somebody told me I was worth it, or that they loved me, or that I am strong or brave--these have kept me sane and ALIVE. Years of hearing what others thought I did not--because I continued to feel the need to hurt myself and acted on these impulses--have allowed me to begin to like AND love myself. The act of healing from my pain and past will follow me throughout my lifetime, but I know I can overcome much more than I was believed possible of myself, because I remember. Small acts of kindness, simply listening to me, a quick hug, and those who tell me that my past and life has helped them--these things have saved me. I don't take anything for granted, because I remember my past and I understand that nothing lasts forever. I will continue to tell people that matter so much in my life that I love them and that I care about them and I will never stop thanking the ones who have stayed in my life--and silently the ones who have faded away--because I remember.

10) You are never to old to act like a child. Catching lightening bugs, dancing in the rain, curling up on the couch with my parents, watching home movies (a favorite past time of mine when I was little), quoting every line of "Dumb and Dumber" with my brother, chasing down the ice cream truck to get a push-up pop, drinking too much of my mom's sweet tea...oh yes. Kids have the right idea about quite a few things, and it's okay to sometimes just act like a kid.

11) Red wine is amazing. For years, my mother tried to get me to like red wine, but I always found it too bitter. Now, I love it. It doesn't hurt that (in moderation, of course) it is very good for you.

12) Holding on to the past is pointless, but neglecting to learn from it keeps you from growing as a person. I try now to remember fondly those things that I never wanted to end, but I remind myself that we can only go forward and clinging to those things only results in sadness. Yes, I loved high school and adored college, but I can't ever go back. That also means that nobody can take away my memories, and I think a part of me feared that for a long time. Plus, there are a lot more memories to be made, and knowing that, I can look to the future eager to see what comes my way.

13) My parents made both me and my brother get jobs at the age of 15, telling us if we wanted a car when we turned 16, we had to earn money and pay for our own insurance and gas, as well as the things that we did for pure enjoyment (such as going to movies with friends or buying "toys"). At the time, though I liked my job, I hated having to work and my parents for making me do it. We also knew that they were only going to buy us one car, and if we wrecked it, we had the buy the rest on our own. If we made big mistakes, like getting a DUI for instance, we were responsible for paying for them both monetarily and legally. When each of these things happened to me, I ranted and raved that I should have to pay for a mistake anyone could make. Yet, when I worked my butt off during the summer of 2005 to save money to buy myself a car, I took great pride in buying one at the age of only 19. Looking at the potential consequences of what that DUI could have cost me--the life of others or myself--instead of stewing over the idea of giving all of my money to the court system, I am grateful that my parents made me pay for everything myself instead of caving and letting me keep my money. For one thing, I learned that if somebody doesn't really have to feel the sting of making a mistake that big, they won't ever learn to own up and be responsible for anything significent. Paying hundreds, thousands, of dollars for it ensured I wouldn't ever want to do it again--and that's stuck with me. That holds true for most things. When you have to spend your own money, it makes you sit back and really consider what is important to buy and what is merely for fun. Obviously, I'm still not perfect with my money, but I have learned to be much more responsible with it. Leaving college, many people have to learn to live in the real world and pay bills and balance out expenses for the first time as everything hits them at once, but I had already been dealing with things in the "real world" for a long time. It was a lucky one up on my generation. Oddly enough, that first job had one more lesson in store that I only just now began to really see--it is important to treat yourself. Almost every paycheck, I buy myself something that is just for fun--a movie, earrings, ice cream, drinks--without compromising my ability to pay my bills. It's important to be able to enjoy the money you spend countless hours a day, week, month, year earning--and it keeps you from getting fed up and buying something extravagant and expensive that you may not need. A nice perk is that I have made friends at my jobs, and kept up with many of these people. Yep, good job Mom and Dad.

14) I am strong, brave, and hardworking. Believe you me, these were tough to learn...and I'm still learning them. Truth is, you can't go through what I have and not have a little something extra. I've learned to laugh through the pain and never, ever be ashamed of my scars and stories. They make me who I am, and I kind of like that person.

15) Driving stick shift beats letting an automatic car drive you anyday. There are few things that I enjoy more in life, and I don't mind looking like a bad ass behind the wheel. From a practical standpoint, I feel so much safer knowing that I can drive almost any car if the need arises. But mostly--it's just fun.

16) The less I worrry about my weight (and calories consumed versus calories burned), the better it actually becomes. I know this seems obvious, but for a girl who thought of virtually nothing else for about five years, this is a big step and revelation. Even though science and nature taught me that, in reality, starvation actually causes your body to hold onto weight and working out too much causes the breakdown of muscle in your body and the retention of fat for survival....I didn't live in reality. My mind saw what it wanted to see, and that image of myself as a huge monster of a person overrode what was really there--a little girl quite literally killing herself. Now, I tend to eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm not--though not all the time--and while I very much want to start working out more, it's to feel stronger and healthier instead of trying to disappear. With a degree in psychology and ten years of living with eating disorders under my belt, I'm very aware that these problems will never really go away--I'm not that naive and I also know that believing they will only leads me to relapse time and time again. But, on the flip side, I now have another weapon in my arsenal--knowing what healthy feels like. And no matter what the disorders will try to tell me, I know a secret--I have fought and won time and timer again, and I AM STRONGER THAN THE DISEASES.

17) Cutting, though it may feel as if I am relieving pain that has no other way to escape, is never a true solution. After all is said and done, I have to wake up the next day knowing that I have scarred myself, and the emptiness has not gone away. It has been a year and four months since I have cut myself, and that is a wonderful gift I have given myself--and all of those who suffer with me. Though I'm not ashamed of my past, I do not want it to be my future.

18) Creativity is fading in this world, but it is not lost forever. As those reality shows creep up the ratings and almost all of the movies as of late seem to be based on books instead of new ideas (not always a bad thing, but often it is), it's hard to find creativity in the arts these days. There is still beauty everywhere, however, and if you look for it, the foundation comes from an often unexpected source. I'm so glad I work in a bookstore, because I am constantly surprised by what, often young, authors create. In my heart, I believe there will be a resurgence of creative voice, and in the meantime, I'll be listening for it.

19) Though I don't regularly attend church, I'm not against it as I once thought I was. I still believe that God is everywhere, but I would love to find a new, strong place to worship that isn't bogged down in politics and hypocrisy. It will be a challenge for sure, but I think it's possible. Church used to represent only preaching and judging to me, but now I see that it is simply a place for believers to gather with others who also love God. I don't think you have to attend every Sunday, and I won't, but I think the loving friendship I have with God can be strengthened at the right place and with the right (for me) people.

20) I really don't like humidity, but my love for the South (usually) overrides that dislike. Loving the south is nothing new to me, but I used to love it blindly. Now I see that, as with anywhere else, it has flaws--but there is so much more here that I wish people took the time to see. Southern hospitality is real, racism exists here just as it does everywhere else and we don't hold the reigns on it, true art--especially in literature--is abundant here and we and we are both appreciative and proud of that fact, and we aren't all rednecks here--but there's really nothing wrong with people who love their country music, their trucks, and their mamas. But seriously, the humidity is a killer.

21) Support the military, even if you don't support the war. Obviously, I learned this through having a brother who, as a Marine, went to both Iraq and Afghanistan and defended the freedom many of us take for granted. Not for a second will I hesitate to admit that I'm very much AGAINST the war and the government's take on it, but the men and women who fight to keep me free? They are, and always will be, HEROES. In the past, before Brent went to war, I thought of soldiers and the war as a unit, but now I know that these heroes are brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, grandchildren, uncles and aunts, somebody's best friend, and somebody's hero long before they put on that uniform. Growing up, my brother was my hero. Now, he's America's hero. In this case, I'll share.

22) Mental illness is very real, very scary, and very dangerous. That being said, our society is grossly over diagnosed and over medicated. There should be no shame in having a mental illness, but it shouldn't be something we strive to discover within ourselves to avoid living. After I was diagnosed with clinical depression at 17 and hospitalized at 18, I avoided going to a therapist until I was 24. For one thing, I thought once diagnosed, nothing could or would change and that was it. My last diagnosis was a combination of ADHD, depression, and anxiety. Once put on the correct medication for ADHD, the symptoms of my depression and especially my anxiety decreased signifcantly in severity. Though it took nearly a month of waiting and hours upon hours of testing, I'm so grateful for what this has done for me. The issues are still there, but they aren't everything to me anymore. A lot of people bitch and moan about the time it takes, and the money it costs, to go through all of that; for me, it was well worth it to feel like I should have felt all along. So, if you think you have a mental illness, go for some tests. It's not a death sentence, I promise. On the flip side, don't go looking for a problem that isn't there. Sometimes, life is hard--and medicating yourself against reality isn't the solution. Allowing yourself to live, no matter how hard it may be.

23) Silence is golden--sometimes. For years I hated to be alone, afraid of what I would have to face within myself when the chatter around me stopped. Parties, games, practice, reading whatever I could find even if it didn't interest me--these were my ways of hiding from the darkness. Always a social butterfly, I do still love to be around people and try new things and see the world through another's eyes. My friends mean the world to me, and my family is a ridiculous amount of fun (most of the time HAHA), but now I don't mind being alone; indeed, sometimes I prefer it. Yes, I still spend much of the time reading or watching movies, but I take the time to find the things that interest me. Dark thoughts often creep into my mind as I once feared, but I'm not so afraid of them anymore. They are mine, and if I have to work through them, so be it. As it turns out, I'm not my own worst enemy, but instead a strong ally.

24) My friends are just as amazing as I always believed, but not just for the reasons I once thought. They are funny, smart, beautiful, honest, caring, feisty people, but they are not perfect. For a long time, I put them on a pedestal because I believed they had saved my life time and time again. In many ways, they have and continue to do so. What I found in the past few years though, is that it was unfair for me to put my life in their hands--both for me and for them. Of course, they knew that. By loving me despite what I put them and myself through, they didn't save me --they showed me how to save myself. They are still my angels, my sisters, but now I see that, sometimes, I'm their angel too.

25) Arguably the most important thing I've learned these past 25 years is that... I still have so much to learn. I also have so much to teach and give to the world. I don't think we ever stop learning, and that's a beautiful thing. Some lessons will be simple and straightforward--just the other day at work I learned that the word "wert" means "thou were"--and others will be metaphorical or spiritual, even confusing. I will learn things that I only understand years later, and some things I will never completely understand. Of course, that in and of itself is a lesson. Without a doubt, I'm so glad that I'm 25. For weeks, months really, I dreaded the day because it just sounded and seemed so OLD, but I'm just old in (some aspects) of wisdom and young in spirit, drive, and, truth be told, AGE. Now that I'm here, I wouldn't really want to be younger. I like that I prefer to stay at home with a good book or have dinner at a friend's house over partying until 5 AM. And I like that I still have the spirit that compels me to, every so often, party until 5 AM. I like understanding more about the world, and in turn myself, and that only comes with age. I like that the opinions of others are important for other reasons now; instead of judging my worth through the eyes of others', I'm beginning to embrace diversity of mind, body, and spirit. Most of all, I love that I'm alive and loved and always, constantly, learning.




*PICTURES*
1) Okay, so I think I'm technically 17 in this picture, but it's close enough. I remember my Junior Prom fell on May 3rd because I turned 17 at my Prom after midnight--but I can't remember when Senior Prom fell. At any rate, we'll say I was 18. Oh man--I had such mixed emotions at this time in my life. On the one hand, I was totally stoked about college--and I'd known for a long time that I'd be heading to Ole Miss--and couldn't wait to branch out. But I also knew what I was leaving behind and how I'd never find a place quite like GPS anywhere in the world, and I could only hope that my friends and I would stay close. Of course, we have.

2) Cotton Ball; Summer 2005. It was so awesome to be back in Chattanooga, with my GPS girls, and any excuse to dress up--especially in a wedding dress!--is fine by me. I knew at the time that it was basically an excuse for the "rich folk" (which I was not--I was invited because I attended GPS) to get wasted among friends and not be judged. I also knew it was deeply rooted in tradition, and even if people had long ago forgotten--or at the very least, ceased to care--about what it represented, I loved feeling so deeply Southern, so very Gone With The Wind.

3) Just a couple of months before I could legally drink, and I'm CLEARLY drunk here. Even though it's a terribly unflattering picture of me, I like it because it's from when I lived with Kristin. Since she is one of the friends I regularly keep in touch with from college--and with the exception of maybe Meredith, I think the college friend I've stayed in touch with the longest (I mean, REALLY kept in touch with and not just the occasional FB chat). I was 20 and a sophomore in college, and I didn't think life could get much better. It could, and did, but only after some tears and fights.

4) My 21st birthday--May 4th, 2007. I'm holding my first legal drink--a jolly rancher martini. We (me, Kristin, and Jessica) were at Old Venice, and I was so excited. Kristin had already given me my pink flask, and I had hours of drinking, friends, and fun ahead of me--most of which I remember.

5) Once again, I'm not technically 22 yet in this picture, but it was within a couple of months and is one of the best pictures of me with Elise and Lauren, and they were the people I hung out with when I was 22 anyway. Elise, Lauren, and I are at Parrish's--which has since shut down and "reopened" down the square (but it's not the same at all, hence the quotations). We loved this bar, and we celebrated many late nights and happy hours there--once, I even studied for an exam there over nachos and beer...and made an A--and it holds some of my favorite memories of all time.

6) Ah yes, age 23 and a pool shark--at least I look like one. Jessica (NOT the same one from the 21st birthday story) and I actually visited Chattanooga for Spring Break for some reason, and this was at a place called Coyote's. It was sleazy, rundown, and my parents told us not to go. We had a blast.

7) Erika's wedding in March 2011. I'm 24 and with my best friends from GPS--see, we did all stay in touch! The wedding was in California and I almost didn't get to go, but everything fell into place right at the last minute and I had the time of my life. Though I typically don't dance at things like weddings, and even told my friends I wasn't going to, our group actually started the dancing and ended it that night. Lots of liquid courage, and since I'm such a light drinker now, that led to a complete lack of inhibitions. Amazing.

8) My 25th birthday--May 4th, 2011. After working in the morning (and yes, I requested to), Caroline took me out to eat--and for a delicious margarita as you can see--at Taco Mac. Even though I'm celebrating with a bunch more people on Friday, it was very sweet of her to take me out on my actual birthday because my parents had to go out of town. I had a wonderful day, surrounded by friends and getting love from the ones who live far away. I'm truly blessed, and very, very loved.

California: Where Best Friends Reunite

Ever since I got back from California, my intentions have been to publish a blog about the trip and general updates on my life...and every time I got ready to write it out, something else came up. Getting back to my normal routine and time zone after I got back proved to be much harder than I thought, because I experienced very little jet lag or general fatigue while in California. Then I realized, I didn't have a chance to let anything like jet lag set in, since we were practically on the go from the moment I landed at SFO. More than likely, the crazy long, intense fatigue I had when I got back to Chattanooga was actually a crazy combination of both sets of jet lag. I am very glad that I worked the morning I left for CA, and even more so that I worked the night I got back. I'm totally aware of how weird that sounds, but by working up until I left, I didn't have time to let myself go crazy worrying I had forgotten something, and by choosing to go straight into work after I got back into town, I didn't give myself the time or opportunity to feel the sadness of the end of the trip. Pure adrenaline propelled me through the first day of work after coming back, plus I realized that I missed my friends and work buddies, and it felt nice to have everybody so happy to have me back. Once I actually let myself relax a little, however, that fatigue hit hard and fast...and honestly I don't think I fully got over it for a couple of weeks. After going to school at Ole Miss and living in a central time zone for 5 years, I realized I really prefer it over eastern time. So going to California where they were 3 hours, instead of just one, behind us? LOVED IT. If I had to choose what time zone to live in, though, I'd probably go with central--right in the middle and convenient...and then I'd also probably be living in MS (my dream ultimately). In all honesty, I didn't think I'd be in CA long enough to get used to the time change to the point it would affect me, but apparently I did. At any rate, I worked for a good number of days straight after returning, feeling tired but functional, and then I had 2 days off in a row. This is when I realized how completely drained I really was, and I ended up sleeping for somewhere between 24 and 36 hours, waking up only a handful of times to go to the bathroom and get water. When I finally got up from my hibernation, I was dizzy as hell...seeing as how I don't think I am capable of making and eating food in my sleep. Even though I got up for water a few times, I was pretty dehydrated too, so I felt pretty crabby until I drank a few cups of water and ate roughly my weight in food. A cloud of minor aggravation at, well, everything sort of hung around me for a few days, and then I was fine...just in time to spend an extra 7 hours at work over the course of three shifts preparing for our SARS evaluation from our new DM. Totally not EVEN going to get into how the SARS went--I mean, it was fine but the process itself was ugh. Since I've worked the night before pretty much all of the RVP, DM, VP, CEO, etc. visits (seriously, I may have not worked on maybe 2 occasions out of dozens), these actually don't totally mess me up or anything, and being a night person by nature it typically works to my advantage that a lot of the cleaning and extra prep has to be done after the store is closed and the customers are gone. Nonetheless, I'm grateful that the visit happened just long enough after my return to allow me to get out of that weird funk my head was in.

In my head, I was going to give a play-by-play of my time in California, but after I spent a bunch of time making a scrapbook (which I'm ubet proud of btw), I just don't feel like it anymore. I'm going to let the pictures do most of the talking, but I'll talk about a little of it. First off, my trip lasted from March 9-14, though as I previously mentioned I did work the morning of the 9th and the evening of the 14th. The Groome Shuttle took me from Chatty to Atlanta, where I had a direct flight to San Francisco (SFO). My friends arranged for a shuttle to get me at the airport--and they paid for it!--because the friend who lives in SF, Iz (the Fizz), doesn't have a car and it was first off much cheaper to have me go alone then have all of them meet me and then go back and it was also late when I got into town and Iz had to work a half day at work just a few short hours after my arrival. What happened when I got to Iz's place, you ask? They were all asleep--quite literally propped up--and I spent 10 minutes on her stoop calling their phones and banging on the door. Poor Iz, who was sleeping in a little guest bedroom at the back of the house, came running and let me in; Karen and Jamie, who were in Iz's room about a small jump away from the front door, didn't even wake up until Iz shook them awake after she had let me in. Yep, good to know things are always going to be at least relatively the same. Honestly, I wasn't even mad because I was so happy to see my friends and be able to go to sleep! Iz apologized about a million times, and the next she still kept telling me how sorry she was that my introduction to SF started that way. As I told her, it made it feel exactly like home. Karen ended up having to go to Sacramento early to help Erika, but Jamie, Iz and I took in as much of SF as we could after Iz finished work for the day. I fell instantly and completely in love with San Francisco as we explored--and all I want to do is visit again since I stupidly combined 2 big trips into one entirely too short amount of time. At a place called The Cliff House, we had alcoholic coffee drinks--mine was chocolate, orange, liquor...and maybe just a touch of heaven. The weather was drizzly, so the hot drinks were even better! I have to give Iz credit for how much she showed us in half a day--we even manged to use 3 of the 4 forms of public transportation (sadly, we didn't get to ride a cable car--next time maybe).

The next day we had to head out pretty early for Sacramento, and we stopped to pick up Jamie's fiance on the way, then unintentionally made him wait on us to get the world's longest pedicures (seriously, 3 hours for 3 of us...it probably didn't help that the one working on Iz was dying her hair at the same time). I got to eat at my very first In-N-Out Burger...and for some reason could not stop cussing (it's a Christian run place for those who don't know, so naturally my mind found a million ways to force me to make an ass out of myself). The rest of that day was spent checking into the hotel, stocking up on liquor (and those freakin' Girl Scouts got me AGAIN!), and going out for sushi. We went to bed pretty early, but somehow managed to still kill half of the handle of whiskey, otherwise known as just the right amount to cause a hangover on the day of one of your best friends' weddings. Between Sprite, Powerade, and BLTs, however, we were able to rid ourselves of them pretty quickly...we were very lucky!

Erika's wedding was absolute beautiful, and I couldn't believe one of us was getting married. In all seriousness though, I don't think there is a couple out there who fits half as perfectly as Erika and Will do. Plus, we had all liked Will within five minutes of meeting him years ago, and I have to say he has bragging rights because we are entirely too harsh and critical of our friends' boyfriends. It's because we are protective, but I'm totally aware it's obnoxious as hell--we're working on it. The reception was almost too much fun, and I knew it was going to be awesome when we were greeted and welcomed with wine and cheese. The dinner was awesome, as were the 4 other glasses of red wine I knocked back in that time, and then they had the first dance, father-daughter dance, and toasts. Oh, and by this point the liquor was also flowing nicely; all of their specialty drinks somehow incorporated Erika and Will's names into them, such as the Lundgreeny (after Lundgrin, Erika's last name) and the Martierney (after Tierney, Will's last name). I planned on trying all of them, but I started with the Lundgreeny (similar to a Sex on the Beach) and couldn't bring myself to try anything else--so I compensated by having roughly 6 of those...and champagne of course. I'm pretty sure the only reason I was falling down drunk, or little more than tipsy most of the night (since I never really drink anymore, my tolerance has fallen considerably...like 2 beers and I'm pretty good usually) was because I broke the one and only rule I gave myself concerning the reception. Okay, here's the thing--I'm not a good dancer. There are random moments where I appear to know what I'm kind of doing, but more than likely the laws of probability just worked in my favor long enough for me to fall into the rhythm for a few seconds. So, as a general rule, I just don't dance much at functions as a whole...and I told everybody that before we went into the reception in the first place. By the time the dance floor was opened up to everybody, however, I had consumed well over 5 drinks...and alas...the first song comes on--no clue what it was and probably didn't then either--and I jumped up and screamed "This is my jam!" and hit the dance floor. Over the next 5 or so hours, I remember leaving the dance floor less than 5 times--either for the bathroom or the liquor--and I spent the rest of the time actually dancing--alone, with people, in a circle, surrounded by craziness and laughter. Usually I didn't even have to leave the floor to get my liquor (I think one of those earlier trips I talked about was the only time I got my own drink from this point forward)... people just kept showing up with drinks in hand for me. And yes, I'm almost positive my dancing was terrible--and for once it really didn't matter...not only due to liquid courage but also, and mostly, because I was just so happy everything had worked out to allow me to even be there. Erika and Will, both separately and together, made it that much sweeter for me by telling me how happy they were that I was there. Erika told me it wouldn't have been the same if I had been missing, and that all of us being together again reminded her that we mean more to her than she even lets herself realize most of the time. I fully agree--if I hadn't been able to make the trip it would have been very sad, but the fact that I was able to make it reinforced my belief in my friends, and what an important part of my life they are and will always be, which until then I didn't even know needed reinforcing. I love when everybody is in Chattanooga, and that is where we are all home together, but being able to see Iz in her current home and Erika where she spent college and met Will...it was absolutely priceless and precious. Unfortunately, the trip also allowed me to be bit by the travel bug, and now I spend way too much of my free time planning trips that are going to take a long time to save up for. All in all, words can not express how grateful I am to those who helped me get from having no hope of being at Erika's wedding to making it happen--and with some vacation days--just know that there would be little else you could ever do in my life that would be as important and precious as this trip became. Thank you.

I always talk about how much I love my friends, so I'm not going to gush too much. That being said, it must be said that, after almost 10 years of friendship with Iz, Jamie, Erika, and Karen, there is no doubt in my mind that we all made the right choice. My life would not be the same in the least without them in it, and I'm certain there would be far less laughter and compassion, but now I realize that the qualities I like about myself--my empathy, love, sarcasm, and everything that makes my personality what it is as of today--would probably be completely nonexistent or lacking any real meaning. Growing up and meeting new people and having new experiences has certainly helped shape me--and all the psych stuff too--but I'm almost positive that none of it would be worth anything if I hadn't become friends with such amazing, smart, funny, beautiful people when we were all just beginning to find out who we were as individuals.

So, while the true catalyst to our friendship was the fact that we had all been simultaneously dumped by our previous group of friends, I'm going to have to say fate probably had a hand in it too.

(oh, I see I've made myself a liar again--I didn't post a play-by-play exactly, but since I hit the highlights and then poured out my heart after every experience, I'm going to guess the play-by-play would have been much shorter in the end. Oh well.

For some reason, my computer and/or the internet aren't letting me load any pictures to this blog :( I promise to get them up ASAP, but they are all on Facebook now, so they can also be seen there!

Baby kittens and California!

Oh man...everything awesome happened at once! Karma had her babies...3 orange ones and 1 black one with orange little spots on its head and little baby face. I love them to pieces! Pictures, pictures, pictures! They were born on March 5th, which means on May 5th (the day after my 25th birthday...gulp) I'm going to have at least 3 little precious kitties to give away (perhaps all 4, but I'm willing to admit that I may want to keep one!). I absolutely refuse to give them to the pound, humane society, or even McKamey's...and I prefer they go to friends (or friends of friends) so that they are in the trusting hands of people I know. I won't be able to afford to get their shots, but I'm going to give a small bag of kitten food and a special treat or toy to each person who decides to take one, so that they won't have to initially worry about those little things. So if anybody wants one, or knows somebody they think might, please let me know! Again, they are still babies and it will be a couple of months from now, but it never hurts to start putting out the word now!

In less than 48 hours, I will be in San Francisco! I absolutely can't wait! My suitcase is packed, weighed, and ready to go...same with my carry-on, except the things (like my camera and ipod) that I'll be using up until the day I leave. I just can't wait!

1) Nuzzle between Mom and baby
2) Karma's such a good mother...she's protecting her babies!
3) Eating
4) All 4 of my precious little baby kitties
5) Close up on a tiny, brand spankin' new, baby face
6) The oddball...black, orange, and white :)

Old blogs from Myspace--what a memory lane to explore.

I'm going to be deleting my Myspace page, since I'm never on it and Myspace is kind of a joke anyway...so I wanted to pull my blogs off of it so that I don't lose them forever. Here we go...a blast from my past.

Number One--(March 8, 2009. 5:19 AM)

I'm leaving Oxford in a few months...

As my time in Oxford draws to a close, I know that it will be bittersweet when I leave this town, my home for nearly 5 years. There is something unique about this place, a fact that only people who have lived here will understand. I will cherish days and nights spent in the library during exam week with my best friends, spontaneous trips to McDonald's, Wal-Mart, a variety of Mexican restaurants and the like, nights out with my girls, inspiring and entertaining professors, movie and wine nights with friends, late night chats with my roommates, and so many more times. Though there have been so many people who have made my time here incredible, there are understandably some who have become very important in my life.
Meredith became my partner in crime when I started working at McAlister's, and we never failed to have a blast together. Granted, we usually opted to skip class and go to McDonald's, but it must be said we didn't fail classes and we still have a lot of memories from those times. Nobody tells stories like Meredith, and I miss her all the time. Everytime we talk, though, it's like we're just down the street like we used to be.
Kristin was my first great roommate, and I learned more about my drinking ability, psychological knowledge, laughter, late night chats, great movies, and the bar scene from living with her for a year. There still isn't anybody else I'd rather talk psychology with, and I'm glad we're still great friends.
Elise moved in after Kristin graduated and moved away, and I totally understood that you find best friends because you are supposed to. We had so much fun watching Will and Grace, staying up late chatting, having each other's backs whenever it was needed, going to Wal-Mart late at night when everybody else was sleeping, playing Scrabble online when we should have been studying for exams, and laughing entirely too much. I miss her everyday, and I love it when she comes to visit me!
Lauren became my friend completely by chance, and through Elise. I don't think Oxford would be the same without wine and movie nights at her house, happy hour at Parrish's with her, somebody to cry with over stupid stuff, her willingness to listen to me rant over too many cigarettes, and our laughter. I miss her, and I'm happy she's coming to visit me this coming weekend.
Rachael remains one of the funniest people I have ever met, but she never bullshits me about anything, and I think that's made me grow up. This past year has been full of laughter, good cooking, Facebook stalking, and movie watching. I hate that I have to move away from her, because she has made my life so sweet.
Jes is probably my newest good friend, and I'm thrilled that she's going to Chattanooga with me for Spring Break! She's loud, spontaneous, hilarious, caring, and insanely smart. I'm going to miss her a lot next year.
Beyond just the people I've met here, the places are so remarkable it's hard not to love them. The Grove during football season is unlike any other place in the world, and everybody needs to experience that at least once; during the Spring, it's one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Parrish's, now Taylor's, Pub was introduced to me by Meredith and Kristin, and later became of favorite of mine, Lauren, and Elise as well. There have been so much laughter and love in that place, and I know it will be a favorite spot to go back to when I visit in the future. Peabody, or the Psychology building, has some great memories as well. I have learned so much in that old place, and I've made some good, intelligent friends there. The Student Union was a great place for fun meals, buying souveniers that cost too much money (and I plan to do this big time again before I leave), and magazine perusing. The Library provided hours of Scrabulous time, distractions from the stress of life, and occasionally some studying haha. My Nannie's house in Abbeville holds wonderful memories from my childhood and also from when I was 19 and 20. Though extended family members have tried to ruin that place, they don't have any say in that. My memories are forever. Another great place, though undoubtably these are not the only wonderful places in Oxford, is my old apartment at The Links. I lived there for 2 years, with 2 of my very best friends, and there were great things that happened there that will stay with me forever. This town is so remarkable, and I'm proud to be the third generation to attend Ole Miss. The day I leave this town will be one filled with tears, but also with smiles and laughter. Oxford is the spot that ever calls, and I'll be proud everytime I come back here as one of the thousands of alumni who always leave a part of their heart here. I may be gone in person for long periods of time, but a part of my spirit and a piece of my heart will remain, quietly laughing and walking across campus, or in the deserted hours of the bar, or driving down late night roads towards my future.
I look forward to moving back to Chattanooga and starting the next chapter of my life there very much. I know that I will be insanely happy to be in my hometown. Oxford will, of course, always kind of be a home to me. I grew up in so may ways in this town, strengthened my belief that true friends are a precious gift from God, allowed me to learn how important becoming a therapist is to me, and showed me life in a new town. I don't leave for a few months, but I wanted to talk a little about this now, as reflecting on my past brings me joy and makes me happy for my future. Oxford is a wonderful place, but it is time to go. The part of me that lingers will be forever in my late teens and early 20s, and when I forget that fun-loving part of myself from time to time, I will come back and discover that the friends I made here are forever, the memories will always be priceless, and Oxford will remind me indefinitely of innocence, laughter, and promise.

Number Two--(January 27th, 2009. 3:14 AM)

This is IT

I haven't written a blog in quite some time, and that's really because there hasn't been too much to say. Truth be told, I've been wallowing in self-pity for entirely too long. That's not to say that I haven't had some extremely rough times in the past few months, because I have had a bunch of things happen that would understandably cause just about anybody to want to give up. Between my friends moving away, DUI problems, freaking out about money because I don't have any, and not knowing if school was going to work out, it's been tough. Nonetheless, I am not the only person who has gone through trying times, nor will I be the last. It's taken a considerable amount of time and soul-searching to realize that I am the only one who holds the ticket to my happiness. I have had 4 glorious college years, filled with exciting trips, all-nighters in the library with best friends, late-night partying at numerous apartments and houses, bar nights with the girls filled with too many shots and walk-me-downs, intense crushes on bartenders (grrr CADE haha), numerous hook-ups with guys that range from extremely hot to well, a little less than what one might call attractive, late night chats, early morning classes, weeks filled with too much work that inevitably leads to a great deal of laughter, hilariously terrific roommates, and everything else you can think of in a great college experience. Alas, like many great things in life, that type of college is in large part over for me. Now, I just have to concentrate on finishing up my classes, get a consistent enough job to get me through the next few months until I can leave in August, and moving away.

Yes, leaving behind such a wonderful place will be tough, but I need to leave before I get too bitter about this little town. I want to come back and visit one day, and I fear if I stay too long, I won't want to do that. Also, I have literally thousands of memories to cherish from my time here. Everybody I have met has affected my life, and I will never forget the people I met here.

Now, I just have to get that job to sustain me, and that's easier said than done in these economic times. I'm used to always having a job, or getting one as soon as another one goes "kaput". I've never been rich, but I always had the option to go on a random 3 AM McDonald's run, go for a drink with friends, surprise my friends with little "happy's", or go out to eat with visitors. I miss that, and that's what has bothered me more than anything these past few months, well that and missing people. I also really miss Chattanooga; it is simply too beautiful and fun not to miss. In the future, I want to travel quite a bit, maybe even live other places, but Chattanooga is where I will end up. Oh, and when I'm a rich and successful therapist, maybe I'll have a vacation home in Oxford. I guess you can have more than one "spot that ever calls".

Number Three--(September 12th, 2008. 12:14 PM)--A memory within a memory.

i wrote this some time ago, but i didn’t want to lose it.

May 21, 2008

It is 5:31 AM and I am sitting here, already having exhausted writing in my journal and talking to one of my best friends from home, and I quite simply cannot fall asleep. My hands are tired, and I didn't want to write in my journal again, because I am still unsure why the process of writing things out on paper sometimes seems like a foreign concept to me. I adore writing, and have since an early age. I remember distinctly a story I wrote when I was 10 about a couple who traveled tough roads in their lives, then met each other and married, finally happy with the outcome of some aspect of their lives. It is disheartening to know that the story was deleted because my Dad thought the sex scene was entirely too graphic to be written by a 10 year old. I know now, of course, that he was right. In fact, any sex scene at all written at the age of 10 would be a bit much. I have kept journals for practically my entire life. I remember one journal that I was particularly fond of that I received when I was probably about 9 years old. It was pink, and I still love the color pink. I found that journal when I was packing up for college; I'm not sure if I brought it with me to Oxford or not. The entries in it were never crucially important, because I wasn't astute enough at that age to write about the memories I have come to cherish 13 years later. Whats funny about those memories is that I couldn't possibly explain to somebody why they are so important, but I have always valued the little things so much in life. The big moments—graduations, birthdays, moves—are of vital importance, but life is not lived in big thrills but in small experiences.

I think about tagging along to my brother's little league games when I was probably 3 or 4. Other kids had chips and cookies to snack on, but my Mom usually gave me things like carrots and apple slices. This would become a point of contension later in life; I have no idea why. I do know that I dearly loved Fun Dip and those little suckers that were really chalky but tasted a lot like Sweettarts, and sometimes I got to get those. I remember the "treats" my brother and I were allowed to get when we were with my Dad when he stopped for gas. One treat, so it better be good. I remember developing a major attitude around the age of 5, and I constantly sparred with my Mom about my hair, clothes, cereal choice, sports, grades, chores, pets, bedtimes, curfews…pretty much anything that ever happened. I was not an easy child to raise I'm sure, and sometimes I feel very sorry about that. My parents laugh and say there will be payback when I have my own children and they talk back to me. I remember Pops in the Park every 4^th of July and eating fried chicken, sitting on a big blanket in the middle of a field waiting for the fireworks show. I remember tons of activities—soccer, softball, ballet, jazz, gymnastics—I was never bored. My parents were smart, since they kept us busy during the day so we slept at night.

We had an original Nintendo, complete with the Duck Hunt gun and the Track Pad. I loved Nintendo, but not nearly as much as I loved being outside, the blades of grass sneaking between my toes while I chased lightening bugs. Summertime was always my favorite time of year. It still is, and sometimes when I sit outside early in the morning or early in the evening during a summer day, it smells like my childhood. I remember being a member of a pool every summer, and spending hours upon hours in the sun, more often than not reading a book—or 6 at once. When I was ten, I remember only one book from my summer reading, though I'm sure I read as many as I could. The book was The Hobbit, and I remember feeling particularly smart reading that book while the sun bleached my hair and darkened my skin to a rich tan. The public library in Hixson remains one of my favorite places of all time, and the smell that hit you the second you walked through the door still lingers in my mind.

I remember fighting with my brother like it was my full time job. Everything about Brent seemed cool, as if somehow he had a handbook I hadn't been issued yet. Pictures of us show two small children, part destined to be tiny because of genes and the other aspect being that we were so active. I sometimes acted annoyed with Brent, but secretly I wanted to be with him and his friends whenever I could be. He was my favorite person in the world.

I remember being 9 and eating whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. My parents had rules about sugar content in cereal and how much junk food was in the house, but I would pig out when I went to friends' houses. I could eat an entire packet of Ramen noodles, two mini pizzas, and a few popsicles for lunch. I loved popsicles, and ate them by the dozens during the summer. I also remember 6 years later, when at 15 I decided, quite pointedly, that I was too fat. Much too fat. At that point, puberty had well past hit and I was, perhaps, a few pounds too heavy. A few, max. Standing at 5'2", I weighed in at about 125 pounds. Ten pounds shed would have done me some good; fifteen pounds would have been acceptable. I lost 36. Age 15, 89 pounds, constantly dizzy, irritable and uncomfortable in most chairs. Friends cried over me in secret; I counted bones as victories. I had always been close to my friends growing up, and I genuinely enjoyed their company. At the age of 15, I learned how much friends love each other. There was no denying it, I was incredibly unhealthy. I wore big sweatshirts at home, partly because I was cold, mostly to hide the fact that I was dying from my parents. In front of my friends, I joked about everything, afraid to admit pain for fear that I would crack open and my emotions would spill out to the point that I wouldn't be able to fix it. I hated food; I craved food; I needed my disorders; the disorders were killing me. I saw true bravery in my young friends, who force-fed me, comforted me, scolded me, and loved me. I was at perhaps my most unlovable, but that didn't matter.

I joined the cross country team and started to "recover". I fooled even myself for a while, until I realized that I wasn't better at all. Suddenly knives, razors, scissors and glass became strangely interesting and incredibly appealing. I don't remember my first cutting experience. After a while, it became a painful ritual that only increased in number and depth over time. I developed thick scabs on my left arm and left leg. I only cut on the left side of my body and that never changed; I don't know why. I got up the courage to tell one of my best friends that I was a cutter; she sobbed so much that I quickly "recovered". I doubt people believed me. The summer after I graduated from high school, I got too drunk with two of my friends. In an instant, a simple hand off of a shot glass resulted in broken glass in front of me on the pavement. All of the hiding and lies left my mind; the glass was too enticing. I picked up the biggest shard and blindly swiped at my legs. My friends jumped up and told me to stop, unsure of what to do. I got angrier. The gin bottle was in front of me, and there were no thoughts in my mind as I brought it down to the pavement and it shattered. I have three wide scars on my legs from that gin bottle; most appear to fade with a tan, but one only gets redder. I hate the smell of gin, and the taste repulses me. My leg had to be stapled shut with 14 staples. The doctor assured me that the shot for the anesthia would hurt far less than the staples. He lied. He also put them in wrong, and the nurses apologized a week or so later as they had to twist them out of my flesh.

I was prescribed to Zoloft and I quit cutting after that, only occasionally making a single slice that could be easily and convincingly explained away as an accident. I went to college in the fall of 2004. I loved it, but my problem didn't go away. One day I got so angry that I pried off the protective wire of my razor and made several slices on my arm, which bled through my sweatshirt. In all honesty, they were nothing compared to most of the times. I was hospitilized for a week in a psychiatric lockdown facility for severe depression, suicidal tendencies, and homicidal thoughts. I admit only to the depression. The facility had good cobbler. I convinced them I was fine to return to school within a week. Discretely, I continued cutting until right before I turned 21. Sometimes, the desire is strong. I fight it.

January 2008: minor virus causes 8 pound weight loss. Oh shit. I couldn't help it. The bulimia came back first, then anorexia. I lived for an entire month and a half almost entirely on juice. By May I weigh 128. I started out at 160. I am much better; sometimes I still starve myself. Throwing up is always in the back of my mind. I want to weigh 120. I wonder if that will last.

I'm 22. Sometimes I wish I was 10 again. Life was so much sweeter.

One day, I want to have 4 kids—a boy, twin girls, then another boy. Brenden, Sydney Elise, Emma Soleil, and Chandler. I hope I don't prevent myself from being able to do that. I would love those kids; I will love those kids. I don't know why I picked the boys names. The girls names are stories of my heart. Sydney is after my best friend during the eating disorder days, and the one who cried when she learned of my cutting. She is strong, beautiful, smart, and sweet. I would want my daughter to be like her. Elise is after my roommate right now. I think Elise is probably one of the prettiest names in the world, and it is fitting of my friend. She is genuine, quirky, incredibly strong, insanely gorgeous, and hilarious. My firstborn daughter has quite the legacy to live up to; she will do that. Emma is after a person I will on the one hand always see as 14, and on the other hand always admire for her strength, maturity, and loyalty. She has juvenile diabetes and was diagnosed at the age of 11; she never complains. My second born daughter will adore her. Soleil means sunshine and I would want my daughter to be the sunshine of my life. I believe I will make a good mother one day. The pain that I have experienced will only help me to love better.

My friends have saved my life, quite literally and also metaphorically. I don't deserve them, but I am glad that I have been blessed to receive them. My family is incredible. At the age of 50, my mom looks 30. She has survived cervical cancer and a broken neck; she is my hero. My dad is what every little girl dreams of in a father; I want to marry someone who treats me as my father treats my mother and treats my children as he treats me. I am a daddy's girl. My brother is still my favorite person in the world. He is a Marine and just got back in the states on Monday. Today is Wednesday. I haven't seen him in almost a year. It was my first Christmas in 21 years without my big brother. I can't wait to see him.

I haven't slept in nearly 48 hours. I will try to sleep now, and I'm sure when I read this later I will think it a bit odd. Do not delete it. It is 6:44 AM.

2:07 PM

I woke up today in probably the best mood I have been in for quite some time. I love waking up to text messages like "Wake up! I made muffins!", which Elise sent me this morning. I listened to some music and then came out bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after only 5 hours of sleep. I don't know if I had a dream or not, but I must have dreamed about friends and good times after writing about all of those memories. Sometimes, it's painful to look back on the bad times, but not nearly as hard as it used to be. Even now, at what is hopefully the tail end of a relapse, I am so much stronger than I used to be. I was such a child when I developed that first eating disorder at the age of 15, and in some ways I assume it hindered my normal growing up processes. But I have experiences that few people will ever get to have. Sure, I didn't really want to have them, but I have grown in so many ways from them. Take my too-short stay at Parkwood. When I think about it now, I normally just think about wanting to get out, completely blocking out the memories of the people I met there. Now, I can't remember the names of any of the people I met, which is a real shame. I do, however, remember them. I had two stand-in moms while I was there, both of whom became fiercely overprotective of me within 24 hours of my stay. I was devastated when one of them left, and I vowed to keep in touch, but once I was out a few days after she was, I forgot about it. I was such a stupid 18 year old. The other one was very sad when I left before she did, and I miss her too. I met people right around my age, who for once didn't make me feel crazy for my problems. My friends had never tried to, but when you truly don't understand something, it is easy to make somebody feel off despite your love. But at Parkwood, I was understood. Sometimes I wish I would have gone either before I was old enough to sign myself out, or afte r I had grown up a little bit. I needed to stay there for at least a month, but I was so hell-bent on getting back to being a typical "college kid". I have never been completely typical, and I never will be. That's a good thing, but difficult at times. I am an extreme personality, and that sometimes gets me into trouble. Of course, a lot of times it ensures that I will have really good friends and a lot of happy memories.

(July 7, 2008. 5:23 PM)

Thoughts

You know, I have realized lately how much time I spend thinking about myself. I have always thought of myself as so selfless and giving, and the truth is, that isn't always the case at all. Yes, I have struggles in my life, but who doesn't? In fact, I look around me at those dealing with old demons, death and grief, war, disease, and I realize that my life isn't falling apart quite as much as I might want to think it is. It is always far easier to play the constant victim, the one who always needs to be comforted, the person everybody feels sorry for and wants to help, but the truth is that my life isn't horrible at all. I have a support system here in Oxford and also in Chattanooga, and now it is stretching out across the entire United States.

It is sad for me to think that I can no longer run home to Chattanooga and find my friends there to comfort and protect me. Leaving home for college was a learning experience, but realizing that Chattanooga isn't the "home" I knew for 18 years is hard. I will forever remember the wonderful times I had in Chattanooga as a child and teenager, and GPS will hold a special place in my heart for the rest of my life. I sincerely hope to move back to Chattanooga and have daughters who attend my Alma Mater, but that will not be my decision, just as it wasn't for my parents when I chose GPS. Raising a family in Chattanooga will not be the same as being raised there, but hopefully the differences will only serve to highlight the great moments and diminish the pain of the bad memories. It is nice to know that I can travel just about anywhere I want to these days and have a place to stay, whether it be Memphis or Chattanooga or San Fransisco. A piece of me will always live in the past, but a bigger part of me is eager to see what happens in my future.

Even the short time I've spent in Oxford has been full of ups and downs and scattered moments of intense happiness and grief-filled tears. I have now had 4 former roommates here, Jessica (for about a month haha), Melody, Kristin, and Elise, and each one has taught me so much. I was never close to Jessica, and Melody about killed me when she literally screwed me over and made me lose my Nanny's house in Abbeville. Kristin showed me to get the fuck over myself and to focus on the good things in life, and also to realize that I am not the only one with hard times in this world. Elise was such a fun roommate, and I have more memories of laughter and ridiculous plans and schemes than I could possibly write down. I miss living with her, but it is for the best. She is only one building over in Sterling though, so I hope I don't lose one of my dearest best friends just becasue we no longer occupy the same apartment. It is mostly my fault that we are not living together anyway, and I can't blame somebody for not understanding my ways of coping with things. She forgave me for my mistakes, and I forgave her for being quick to judge. That is quite enough for me. Living with Amber is already proving to be a wonderful decision, and it reminds me so much of living with Kristin. She doesn't put up with my shit, and I don't put up with hers, and that is what we both need. I do know, however, that she is always here for me, as I am for her. In a way that makes sense to almost nobody else, two crazy people living together works for us. DEAL WITH IT.

My friends in Oxford have shaped me so much too, and I miss people like Hill and Meredith every damn day, and there are so many moments throughout each day that reminds me why we will remain so close for a long time to come. Lauren is an angel, and though we might be having our differences right now, I am confident that we will be fine, and that I will miss her terribly when she moves back to Iowa.

Knowing that my problems are not the worst in the world, I am still aware that they affect me a great deal. Having a double eating disorder relapse followed mere months later by a cutting relapse made me question my sanity, strength, and even my ability to love and be a friend. What I realized is that I'm the right amount of crazy for my life, I am extremely strong and want to live, and that my love for others has only grown stronger and my friendships are so much more special to my heart. The cutting relapse was a one time thing, and though I have been tempted since, I have fought it. It didn't get me anywhere, which I should have learned long ago but failed to do so, and it hurt friends as well as myself in the process. The eating disorder relapses are a bit harder to shake, but I'm sincerely trying and have been doing much better. I have my days, but I don't have my weeks or months, and that's important. It is so much harder to live with out the anorexia and bulimia because those are what started it all, they symbolize my downward spiral into health issues, cutting, Parkwood, and disaster. While I know they bring me down, I also have a hard time knowing how to cope without them. I was 15 when I developed anorexia, 16 when bulimia hit, and part of my childhood got stolen in the process. As I seek desparately a way to make sense of an obsession with diseases that are killing me, I understand that I have every ability to beat them for good one day. It is me and only me that can truly do that, but the support of my friends is something I need to help get me there, little by little, day by day.

I spent what felt like almost an entire month crying only a couple of weeks ago, and I am happy to say that I am past that. Yes, I tear up and get upset, but I don't spend every day wondering when the shit will hit the fan and I will lose it completely. I have so much to live for and so much to give, and I do truly want to be there for others who are going through experiences far more trying than my own. I want everybody to know that, no matter what might be happening in my own life and how little you think I can handle, I am never too distraught to be there for my friends. Tragedy and sadness aren't scheduled happenings, but instead part of everyday life. Oftentimes, hard times for friends overlap and it important to grieve for your own pain but also help those dearest to you cope with theirs. I thought I had learned this, but I know now that you never stop learning these skills. I spent my life being sheltered in many respects, and it is only through truly trying times that a person can grow, and I try my best to remember that. Like I have said before, I had an amazingly happy childhood, and an adolescence filled with great happiness and incredible pain. What I have realized is that the root of that pain lies not with my parents, nor with my friends, but instead with myself. I'm not saying that others might not have played a part in my hard experiences, often exacerbating them to the point of near tragedy, but it is me that ultimately had to decide to hurtle into insanity. Now, I have to pick up the pieces myself.

When I was 15 and began my descent, I wanted to be perfect and tiny and a child forever. At 16, I weighed 89 pounds and wanted nothing more than death. At 17, I discovered knives, scissors, glass, and razors and left permanent scars-- they may fade, but the memories do not. At 18, I left for college and landed in the liberating but lonely world of a psychiatric facility. At 19, I fought desparately to keep a secret what I was screaming out on my arms and legs. At 20, I prayed for anorexia to return, but could only find solace in those sharp objects. At 21, I rediscovered old friends in anorexia and bulimia. And at 22, I am beginning to heal. Along every single one of those years, I caused pain in others and killed a piece of my own heart over and over again. The amount of tears I shed could fill a small lake. Despite everything, I am okay with where I am right now. Battered, bruised, scarred, in far worse health than any 22 year old should be, but I'm alive and happy to be so. Life will never make sense, but it is damn worth living.

Number Four--(June 21, 2008. 10:47 AM)

"Every hardship; every joy; every temptation is a challenge of the spirit"

oh man, there's so much to write about i'm not even sure if i'm up to the task of it all. i have to be out of my apartment in exactly 7 days. there will be a lot of tears, that much i know for sure. that place has been my home for the past 2 years. i'm going to miss it so much, not so much for the apartment itself but because of the memories attached to it. oh, and the amazing view of sunsets from my balcony. that moment that is coming all too soon, when i look around and it is empty, will be tough. leaving behind that place and my roommate...words cannot express the pain i've already felt and what i know is coming.

i miss my girls here so much. yes, they are literally still here, but i feel so distant from them that it is like they are gone. my heart is breaking, and i'm not sure how to fix it. should y'all read this, i love you so much, and i'm sorry. my life is forever changed by how i hurt you, and there are no true words to express my sorrow over that. despite everything, i'm still always here for you. when i think of "my girls", it will always be you.

money is a bitch, plain and simple. even thinking about how i'm going to pay my bills for the next year or so is horrible. i'm only 22, but i have the stress level of somebody twice my age. hopefully one day, i will have a good job and a family of my own, and my same, wonderful friends. i can only hope and pray. and, inevitably, cry a little.

my job is okay, just a little monotonous and stressful. but it's going to pay those bills and i have to hope that i can keep it and also get another one.

brent came to visit for a few days, and it was great. i'm going to proudly wear my pendant from iraq because it means so much to him, and to me. it is a unique gift, and i'm very proud of it.

my weight is always a struggle in my life, but i have enough people telling me i look amazing to feel okay about it right now. i just have to maintain it and try to be healthy. i want so badly to be really healthy one day, and to look good. i hope that i can do that; i really do.

my parents cut me off, which goes back to money. they told me 3 days before my last links rent was due, and if it hadn't been for my brother sending me some money, i would have been screwed. i remain very grateful for that.

i would have lost my sanity a long time ago had it not been for amber. everybody keep your fingers crossed that she can move in with me, or i'm not sure what i'm going to do. cry, go into major debt, lose my damn mind.

i'm sure there's more on my mind right now, but i can't even think straight anymore. more later. peace.

Number Five--(May 17, 2008. 10:31 PM)

update on the life of one miss kelly lauren bergmann

so it's saturday night, and i'm extremely bored at work. naturally, actually WORKING is not an option, so instead i have passed the time taking multiple smoke breaks, playing online, and eating everything in sight. if i'm not careful, i'm going to gain my weight back damn it. and that would be bad. so a lot has happened in my life since i last posted a blog actually, so i guess it's about time. let's see...

i "graduated" from ole miss last saturday. technically speaking, i have about a semester's worth of classes before i actually get my diploma, but ole miss is weird like that. it felt weird to go through another graduation ceremony, and for some reason, so much LESS special than the graduation from GPS. they really went all out at that little old high school of mine. at ole miss, i was just ready to get it over with, and at the same time, i never want to leave. i am staying in oxford for another year, because i love this town and my people in it. i sincerely hope that lauren can stay, because breaking up the trio of me, lauren, and elise would be a crying shame, if you ask me. i love my girls.

2 days before graduation i got a DUI. who would have thought? i make it through 4 years of college and the entire year of being 21 and 5 DAYS after i turn 22 i get a damn DUI. and i blew a .09. the legal limit is .08. give a girl a damn break already. a few days ago the cop who arrested me was in a horrible car wreck and might either be paralyzed or have complete memory loss or both. strange.

in a little over a month, elise and i are moving from the links to sterling. i'm excited, because the links people are bitches, but it will be weird to move out of a place that i've called home for 2 years. my life is a mess of emotions. lauren better be able to stay next year.

lauren got a new puppy today, and we named him jack. he's a cutie--part lab, part shephard. i love him already.

brent gets back from iraq on monday or tuesday, but i won't be able to go pick him up with my parents. i could get off work, but because i have to pay so many court costs for this DUI, i can't afford to. that pisses me off more than anything, and i wonder if cops ever think they are ruining your life when they arrest you for stupid shit. probably not, especially in this town. i love just about everything about oxford, except the law enforcement people.

i feel like i'm leaving something out, but i'll let you know if i am. there's an update a little. fun life, eh?

Number Six--(April 25th, 2008. 12:28 PM)

sleep deprivation

as i sit here writing this blog, i am avoiding 3 papers i must write this weekend, a paper i promised to write for eric and which is due at midnight, and studying for a FOR SURE chaucer quiz at 1. i've hit that point when you have so much to do that it's overwhelming to even know how or where to start. i'm also out of adderall until later today or tomorrow, and the latte energy isn't quite the same. all i really want to do is finally have a day to get my hair cut and dyed, get a pedicure and a professional massage (even though elise's are great and very much appreciated!), and then steal my girls away and go to the beach again.

i am reminded daily of the wonderful qualities of my best friends, and that some things in life will never change. the comfort in that is wonderfully calming. everyday, no matter how much i might have on my plate, or how much sleep i've missed, or how little i'm able to eat, my girls remind me that there is always something sweet in life. it's simple things really--a back massage when i'm literally doubled over in pain from stress and work, making me airborne in juice (i love juice!) when my throat is scratchy, calling me to tell me that you love me and that you hope my stressful day goes by quickly, making me hot tea, visiting me at work, posting an old 9th grade website that i made on my facebook wall to make me laugh, calling randomly to say that it's been too long since we've seen each other and that needs to change (even if we know it can't), playing long distance scrabulous with me (while making fun of my short word choices) because we never get to talk anymore, visiting me for a party weekend...things that seem so little, so trivial, really keep me going. people might wonder why i adore my friends so much, and why they mean as much as they do to me, but it's really not hard to figure out. some people will go through life without ever really having even one best friend like i do, and i have several. i can't imagine living my life, functioning at all, without their support. sometimes i wish i was home in chattanooga and back in high school, in a time where everything was much simpler. a time when i could eat whatever i wanted because i was going to run 6 miles that day anyway, with my cross country team, or just with a few best friends. a time when i worked purely for gas money and entertainment (and gas was much cheaper!). a time before alcohol really, when fun wasn't made by being drunk but by being creative--don't get me wrong i love drinking and being legal! but i know that if i went back in time, knowing what i know now, that my heart would ache waiting for these ole miss experiences. i haven't lost anything in the friendships i made in high school by distance and time--those are still my chattanooga girls and they will forever hold a piece of my heart. i miss them terribly everyday. but not being best friends with elise and lauren? well forget about it. i'm not entirely sure how i ever functioned without them. i met the two funniest, sweetest, genuine, beautiful girls in oxford and have the opportunity to call them best friends. i'm not allowed to be sick, or sad, or scared--they simply won't have it. it's wonderful.

this semester i might have screwed myself a little bit in school, but i have the kind of memories people dream of making. i went to mardi gras with elise and edward and partied in margaritaville and on bourbon street, buying souvenirs like beads with a giant penis on it and a shot glass that looks like a tiny margarita glass. i went to destin for spring break and slept in late, drank pina coladas by the pool, stayed up too late and danced my heart out. i took elise and lauren to chattanooga, and realized again it's beauty and charm. i worked until 2 am on the weekends, then went and partied until 6 am. i stayed up late, and often all night, studying with elise, with plenty of smoke breaks, cleaning distractions, and movie watching. i drove over to lauren's to hang out, just because i could. i maintained my ability to get free drinks at the bar. i lost about 30 pounds and began to remember what it felt like to be the weight i was meant to be, and therefore became more laid-back and relaxed about wearing the clothes that i want to wear. i counted up the cost of the liquor bottles displayed in my apartment alone and realized it added up to nearly $3000. to some, that might seem like a waste, but i can look up there and think of a million laughs, mistakes, tears, hugs, and heart-to-hearts fueled by said booze. i had a huge party at my apartment, complete with hunch punch, jello shots, and my princess tiara, and managed a random hookup.

i know that real life is coming. i wish it wouldn't. it won't shock me as it might shock some; i have just adored collge life. i knew i would enjoy ole miss when i decided with enough confidence to not apply anywhere else that i wanted to go here. i had no idea i would fall in love with the school and the town. there are few places in the world prettier than the grove in the spring. you will be hard pressed to find more southern belles and gentlemen in any other town. down-home cooking is second nature around here, and i never tire of places like ajax and old venice. the bars might close early, but there are always places to party until sunrise if you want to. walking around campus in the spring, i just can't bring myself to leave this place--not yet. flowers blooming and trees at their greenest just make me smile, especially when i walk beside my best friends, laughing at something random, stupid, and wonderful.

i'm sitting here, content with my wasted study time, almost in tears at the gratitude i feel in my heart at ever being allowed to go the places i've gone and meet the people i've met. i will never really be alone, because somebody is always checking on me or inviting me somewhere. i will never stay sad, because i've always got a shoulder to cry on and a quick joke to make me smile. i will never be mad for long, because my friends won't have it. i will stay happy and content throughout my life, even though it might be distant and fading at times, because i will always remember this time in my life--when i called oxford home and lived with and really close to my best friends (with my others only a phone call away). if life is this wonderful when i'm but 9 days from turning 22, despite stress and anxiety and stress that is bound to happen, i can't wait to see what else is in store.

Number Seven--(April 18th, 2008. 5:36 PM)

reflections on a good day

There are moments in life that you know from that second on, with certainty, you will remember forever. They don't have to be monumental, or even noticeable to the rest of the world. For whatever reason, they matter to you. Yesterday was such a time. I went through my class day as usual, relatively pain free and happy. Then my two best Oxford friends, Lauren and Elise, decided that we all should go to the pool. Sitting in the sun, occasionally taking a frigid dip in the too cold pool or a relief sit in the hot tub, I found myself surrounded by Cody, Josh, Rodrigo, Dustin, Edward, Lauren, and Elise--by far some of my favorite people on this planet. Popsicles, Jolly Ranchers, and Crawfish made for perfect snacking, and I let myself relax in the sun, aware that I had a paper outline to do that was very important. After the pool, we (well Cody) made some of the best soft tacos ever, and we all sat around watching Grey's Anatomy, stopping every once in a while to go outside in the (finally!) summer nighttime and toss around a football or just sit and chat. As it got later and later, I knew that I should go home and study, but I couldn't pull myself away. It was a divinely happy day, one in which nothing particularly spectacular happens, but it is one of those wonderful days simply because it was allowed to happen.
Later, when Elise and I came home, we watched "Silence of the Lambs" and my back started to hurt. I sat on a heating pad, and decided to rest and then get the outline done today, unaware that I would be sidetracked by back pain until after 2 pm. So yes, maybe I should have done the homework first, but I'm sure I would have had to miss class anyway because of the pain. Perhaps days and nights and moments ingrained in time and memories preserved happen for a reason. Maybe I am just deluding myself, but I truly adored yesterday, and I felt loved and accepted the way that everybody always wants to feel. It is on days like April 17, 2008 that you realize that life is for the living, home really is where the heart is, and no sadness or pain in the world is competition for the love of friends. Though I spent today in crazy pain and discomfort, I choose to dwell on the days in my life that I can look back and admire for years to come, simply because they happened.

Number Eight--(April 4th, 2008. 1:08 PM)

troubling news and also some fun news!

it has been a while since i have posted a blog, and sadly, this one won’t really update people much on my life. it will, instead, serve two purposes. one is to ask for prayers for my cousin and the other is to talk about this coming weekend.

first, my cousin charlie, who turns one in a couple of weeks, has to get a feeding tube inserted this coming wednesday, april 9th. because of several medical causes (one of which being reflux, and this is the only one i know for sure), he is not gaining enough weight, and has only gained an ounce in the past 3 weeks. to make sure that he grows while they try to figure out this mystery, my aunt and uncle have made the decision to go ahead with the feeding tube. they are both doctors, with my aunt specializing in pediatrics and my uncle in internal medicine, so i rest assured that this is the best thing for charlie. i’m asking everybody to keep him in your prayers, or if you aren’t particularly religious, just think of him and his health.

on a much happier note, this weekend is going to be a blast! kristin is coming into town today, and i fully expect to have a good time. it’s pretty much a given. tomorrow night is the big party that elise and i are throwing at our apartment. bonnie’s coming into town too, and i’m just really excited about it! i will be sure to put up pictures from the event, so everybody look forward to that haha. at any rate, graduation is fast approaching, so i will post a blog soon about my actual life.

Number Nine--(March 3, 2008. 4:17 PM)

a much deserved break

so this past weekend was EXACTLY what i needed. lauren, elise, and i didn't end up leaving for chattanooga until about 4 pm, so we didn't get into chattanooga until after 10 eastern time. we hung out with my parents a little bit, enjoyed some wine and veggies, and then headed out to hair of the dog (a really cool bar in chattanooga) around midnight to meet up with karen and jamie. we had an absolute blast, and i was thrilled when elise and lauren totally got along with karen and jamie. saturday we slept in a little bit, then visited lookout and signal mountains and did some sight seeing in chattanooga and then rested for a while before going to the BEST sushi place in the world, sekisui. i had edamame, crunchy crab and shrimp rolls, and the lookout rolls, plus this this crazy drink that tasted kind of like a walk me down but stronger and deadlier. afterwards, we went to a park and played on the swings, then went hom and watched requiem for a dream. today we lounged around then went to lupi's (a super yummy pizza place) and then took our time driving back to oxford, taking time to stop in the natchez trace and admire the stars. it was a break i very much needed, and i'm so glad my girls got to come to chattanooga with me. they loved it, and are already planning on going back with me. OF COURSE my parents loved it, because they always love when i visit AND they think lauren and elise are by far the best friends i've had since in college. i'd have to agree. i know a lot of people know about the recent troubles i've been having with eating disorder relapses. no, i'm not better. yes, i'm still somewhat afraid to eat. no, i don't want to gain weight. yes, i'm on my way to a nice recovery. nothing happens the way you want it to. i didn't ask for the relapse, despite what people might think, and i desperately wish i could get over this quickly. that is not how life works, however, and i now know that if problems such as mine can truly be managed, it has to be a slow recovery. almost 7 years ago when this started, i really only got "better" for the benefit of others. my friends were devastated by the illnesses, and i spent so much time worrying that i was hurting them that i failed to realize that i was ultimately hurting myself worse by trying to get over my problems too quickly. i regret this in that i didn't really recover, but instead redirected my issues into another form of self-aggression. it was one i thought i could hide easier, but in the end, things that fucked up will eventually be exposed. i choose not to engage in THOSE behaviors anymore because 1) i never truly felt better, only exhausted 2) i hated waking up and seeing what i had done 3) i have permanent scars and 4) i never really felt anything was accomplished. now, my life of disorders has come full circle, and i'm working through this on MY TERMS. i'm trying to get myself to a healthier place, as in eating more fruits and vegetables and working out consistently. it will be a process, but hopefully one that will empower me and strengthen both my character and my body. i am infinitely grateful for my support system. i couldn't imagine trying to face these things without the wisdom, compassion, and love of my friends. knowing that they are here for me is more helpful than i could ever express. in the end, however, it is me that must fix my own issues. if i don't do this for me and by my own ways, then i will spend my life running from them. i don't want to have relapses every few years. or constantly worry about food, or prevent myself from having kids one day. everything happens for a reason, and i will walk away from this stronger and healthier.

Number Ten--(February 25th, 2008. 4:17 PM)

oh what a night

so last night was an interesting one, to say the least. i was sick at work so edward came in an hour early for me, but once i felt better i came back to keep edward and elise company. after work, elise and i went over to cody's to play the wii for a little while before bed. i kept getting text messages from lauren explaining the symptoms of this illness she had, but i feel horrible because i didn't realize how serious it was. finally she asked me to take her to the hospital, and when i showed up at her place, she was in so much pain i felt like the worst friend in the world. we were at the hospital until about 5 am, but they gave her some great pain meds so she felt better...until her test at 8 am. everybody keep my lauren in their prayers, because she is such a wonderful person and an incredible friend and i'm still worried about her. i so can't wait until we go to chattanooga this coming friday. anyway, that was my night. i just found out i have a test tomorrow too, and i close tonight at work. i need a break.

Number Eleven--(February 22nd, 2008. 11:34 PM)

LIFE

Current mood:thoughtful

life is utterly confusing to me sometimes. i'm on the verge of being a college graduate, and i have no idea where life is taking me. i guess thats pretty typical, but it terrifies the hell out of me. it seems odd to me that, as i'm the most mature i've ever been on my life and almost completely self-sufficient, i'm really not that much different than i was when i was 15. it saddens me more than anything, because i really want to believe that i've grown up. i guess if you suppress your feelings, treat yourself to health only for the benefit of others, and never really deal with what caused things in the beginning, reoccurrences are bound to happen. but why now? i'm trying so hard, and i want everybody to know that. i haven't ever dealt with some deep-seated issues, and i guess i'm paying for that now. i'm optimistic, however, and you should be too. if nothing else, i know that i am very strong. the support and love of my friends is also wonderful in my recovery process, and i'm completely blessed to have them in my life. in the end, this will be for me, and one day i'll look back and think about how much of a better person i am for living through what i have. other than that, work blows (because i do it so much and never get a break) and school is kind of boring. plus, my back issues are getting 10 times worse, and i think i'm getting an MRI over spring break to see if any type of surgery or therapy might help it. plus, we are checking on why my vision is sometimes blurry and i get headaches from eye strain a lot. so, i might need a second eye surgery too, and we're trying to get all of this done before i'm kicked off my parent's insurance. life's a bitch, ain't it? haha. for the most part, i am happy though. my family is great, my friends are precious, my kitten is adorable, my apartment is incredible, and my roommate is the best. could i ask for more? i think not.

Okay, that's enough for now. I'm going to put the rest in a later post, with some of those old pictures that go along with them....and then--GOODBYE MYSPACE! I'm glad I'm posting these, because reading them again is interesting.