The circle

Am I the only one who sees the circle?  The ever continuing cycle that seems impossible to break.  Wake up everyday and do the exact same thing you did before.  A never ending circle of nothingness that traps you.  I sit in the middle and watch each piece go in the slow, predictable pattern.  Sure every once in a while there is a small blip--a trip, a dinner, a moment of happiness but before you know it the circle has sucked you back in.  Stuck in the middle watching and waiting for something to happen; something to make it worth it----a reason to open my eyes. 

Cuteness!

Trapped

It's that itchy, claustrophobic feeling.  The one when you've realize that you are trying desperately to claw yourself out of the room but aren't getting anywhere.

The room is dark, damp, and smells like decay.  When you rub your hands along the walls the splinters stab your fingertips.  Eventually you don't even notice the roaches that run across your feet or the spiders that fall in your hair.  There are no windows, the only light comes from the door.

The door stands there tall and looming.  A glass door.  It's smooth to the touch and feels cool on the tip of your nose when you lean into it.  I can see my life on the other side--I see myself smiling, laughing, and truly happy.  I can see goals, aspirations, friends, and family.  The other side of the door is bright and colorful--my knuckles are stained red from knocking.  I need the key and I know that it has to be somewhere in this room hidden away.

I may spend hours searching each day but in the end I end up staring through the door--watching and dreaming--until I've exhausted myself and I collapse on the floor.  And just lay there and wait, possibly for something that will never come.

Absentmindedly flicking the spider off my forehead I shut my eyes with the thought that tomorrow I'll finally pull up the plank that my key is hiding under.

The Short Hair Chronicles

I cut my hair.  No, not just cut.  Got it chopped off.  Gone.

Told ya!

Cutting your hair short changes a lot of things.  A heck of a lot more than I realized it would.  Thus, a mini-blog series begins.

The first and most noticeable about about cutting your hair super short is other people's reactions.  Once you've cut that much hair off, you're already pretty nervous about how it will be received and if you're like me you feel like everybody is staring at you everywhere you go saying things like "Oh my goodness!!! Her hair is so short!"

To be honest, I was not crazy about my haircut.  Maybe I had visions of stepping out of the salon looking like Emma Watson...but considering I am not Emma Watson-that didn't happen.  So walking out with my super short do was a little nerve wracking to say the least.  You have to introduce your new haircut to so many groups of people.  First, there is your family.  Then your friends.  Then your roommates.  Then your coworkers.  Then your church.  Each time is accompanied with a sense of dread.  Will they like it? Will they hate it?  I had a dinner with an old friend tonight who I haven't seen years...he had no idea I just got my hair cut and therefore didn't realize and opinion needed to be made---it was refreshing.

Some people don't care for my cut.  Others love it.  Me?  I'm starting to love it.  It's really starting to grow on me and I'm slowly falling in serious like with it and I love the fact that I can't get it to do the same thing with it twice since it apparently has a complete mind of it's own.

Oh?  So what does it look like?

Owl Obsessed

I love owl accessories.   I adore them.  No, my favorite animal is not an owl--it's an orca.  But when it comes to accessories--I just can't get enough owls.

I must own these:

The Homeless Helper

Yesterday I inadvertently let my car run out of gas.  Now, if that had been Batmen-my old car-I wouldn't be so upset about it.  But we're talking about my baby, Phoenix--my pride and joy.  (Seriously, if I could get away with carrying pictures of him in my wallet I would. I freaking love this car.  My dream mustang.)

So, there I was in downtown, in my church clothes, stranded and stuck in the middle of the road.  Of course as soon as the numerous people standing around noticed I was in need of help they all rushed to my side.

False.

Instead the numerous people sitting on their porches and walking the streets watched me as I preceded to push my car, by myself, to the side of the road. In fact one of them even came up afterwards and commented on the fact that my car was crooked.  For an excruciatingly long ten minutes I waited for Ashley as person after person walked by.

Once she got there a homeless man walked up and immediately offered his help.

How many times have I heard people complain about homeless people? At least once a day.  Growing up in a small town, I never saw homeless people...it wasn't until I moved here that I saw homeless people on a daily basis.  They are everywhere, and for every homeless person I see, there are ten other people complaining about how awful they are.  But who helped me when I needed it?  The people sitting on the porches of their houses?  Or the man with no porch to sit on?

Elephant ring

I've been searching for the perfect elephant ring...tada!  One day maybe I'll own it.

Found on Etsy

A Tornado in my town.

 Before I begin, I apologize for the recent lack of posts.  I'm absolutely exhausted.  My days are increasingly becoming busier and busier--but in such a happy and satisfying way :)  After this weekend I should be back on here much more often.

I don't live in tornado alley.  Granted, every once in awhile we hear of a tiny tornado that touches down here for ten seconds and uproots a tree and then is gone.  I'll be honest I was skeptical of the warnings on the news and assumed they were being over cautious.

 

Well, that's a bit more than an uprooted tree.  This was our Lowe's Home Improvement

I love my hometown, it's always full of surprises and moments of sweet nostalgia, but I don't think I realized how connected I was until my father and I drove past this ten minutes after it was hit by a category 3 tornado:

 

I had just gotten to my parent's house after leaving work when my mother called telling me that the store she was in just got hit by a tornado.  In all honesty it was unrealistic; if she had called saying she was in a wreck I could have related or felt more impacted--but her being in the middle of a tornado?  I couldn't find a way to connect that in mind or to feel anything towards it.  It was like trying to picture a new color; if you've never seen it then you can't imagine it.  But when that brand new color is forced in front of you, quickly it becomes real.  When I reached my mom and grandma, the reality quickly set in...and the thoughts of what did happen and what could have happened came in waves.  I'm beyond grateful that they are both okay and I know that it was a miracle no one was seriously injured in the stores that it hit.  But instead of more of my melodramatic rambling, I'll let the pictures speak for themselves. 

The Donut/Bagel scuffle

I will forever think of this when I go get coffee at DD from now on.

unrealistic love

Not only do I find this hilarious I also find it to be symbolic of people's expectations in love.  We tend to spend so much time dreaming up the perfect person to fall in love with that we often pass on great people just because one piece is slightly off.  We have no idea who the perfect person is, God knows.  Not us.  In our mind we have built up the perfect person who even if they did come along they may be totally wrong for us.  Like a tape dispenser.  Look at the person who is genuinely interested in you and give them a chance. 

Little Birdy Necklace

Found on Etsy

Ahh! Squeal!  My name means little bird...and I want this necklace something fierce.

Cynic

 "You're body language speaks volumes."


"What?" I asked


"I ask you a personal question and you back away and cross your arms."


Carefully examining this fact, I purposefully unfolded my arms and took a step back towards him.  "Better?" I asked. 


He smirked, "So, tell me.  Who burned you?  Who has you so up in arms towards to world?"  I sighed and walked past him pretending to be interested in a book about the Civil War.  "See? You walk away again.  It's like you're afraid of me."


"I'm not afraid of you.  I just don't care to discuss my personal life with people, especially those of the male persuasion."  His eyes shot up questioningly and I sighed again and turned away, to which he responded by immediately moving back in front of me.  He apparently would not give up.  "It's just...it's just that it's my experience that there is no point in telling a guy anything about me because he'll just use it against me as soon as he gets a chance."  


"So it was a break up?"  He asked.  I ignored the question and proceeded to grab another book of the shelf to examine it while he continued to stare at me.  "It's not a break up.  It's something bigger than that," he continued.  Placing the book back on the shelf I turned away and walked to another book stack.  

As soon as I rounded the corner, there he was again, his eyes seemingly penetrating me. "Fine,"I huffed.  "No it's not a break up.  I had someone that I trusted, a friend, and no matter how much of a jerk other guys were, my friend wasn't.  He gave me hope that there were guys out there that were honest and caring."

"And now?" He asked.


"And now...now...now I don't answer personal questions."  


Cynical.  This is a word I used to abhor.  Yes. Abhor.  Oh yea...I'm pulling out the big guns.


Cynical: Believing that people are motivated by self-interest; distrustful of human sincerity or integrity.

I thought that people who were cynical were uncaring, and I could never understand how someone could be so shut off from human compassion.  I understand now that my view of cynicism was untrue.  Not all cynical people are heartless, uncaring people...they are most likely full of compassion, optimism, and the most trusting people you could meet but somewhere down they line they get hurt and they begin to doubt.  

Slowly, or perhaps quickly, I became a cynic.

my long lost friend.

After a year long relationship and eight months of I don't even know what, it's time that I get to know someone who I have long forgotten:

myself.

oh and she's wonderful, you should totally meet her.  ;-)

Don't get me wrong, being in a relationship does not mean that you loose yourself.  I am by no means saying that.  I am saying that it is possible that certain situations can make you not only forget yourself but can also make you treat yourself like gum on the bottom of your shoe.

So I have decided to date myself for awhile and see who this girl really is and what she's all about.  So far, it's the happiest I've been all year.

What does it mean to date yourself?  The whole logic behind dating stems from the act of getting to know each other: what does that person like, dislike, what makes them laugh, what do they do during their free time, what are their goals in life, and do they rock out to Michael Jackson at least once a week?  The same logic is applied to the notion of dating yourself: what do you like and dislike, what makes you laugh, how do you spend your free time, what are your goals, and why aren't you rocking out to the King of Pop on the regular?  These are important things to know about yourself, not only because you should have a real self awareness and respect for yourself, but if you do plan on dating and marrying one day, it won't end happily if you don't who you are.  If you don't know who you are then you have no way of knowing who or what will make you happy. 

I've been on this venture for several weeks now and have discovered a whole new side of me that I never knew existed like the fact that I love being outside near water, I'm an excellent cook, my wine of choice is Cabernet, and that no matter how many times I hear Katy Perry's California Girls song, I will continue to hate it just as much as I do kool-aid.  I've also remembered things about myself that I had completely forgotten like the fact that I love to bake, the idea of owning a mustang makes my heart race, I'm a writer at heart, I love Areosmith just as much as I do Matchbox Twenty, and that I have a great family.  That last part is important to remember because your family will always have your back and they love you unconditionally.  It's only when you loose a family member that you realize just how true that is. 

So here's to my new friend, me, and all the adventures she's sure to take me on.

It's that time.

I've reached the point where the need to write something, anything, has overtaken me...thus here we are.  Now finished with school I've now been set loose into the world with a BA in English and student loan debt.  Life is good.


Word of advise to high school students....the phrase "get a degree and you'll make tons of money," is not true; don't believe the hype.  In reality it does matter what degree you get, and you'll probably have to decide at some point in life whether or not you want to spend your college days studying something you love or studying something that will one day bring home the bacon.  Or you might be one of those rare people whose line of studying will lead to a wealthier lifestyle.  Kudos to you my friend.  I chose to study something I love: English.  I love everything about English. The fact that our grammar rules are crazy, that one word can mean something completely different to every single person, and that two people can read the same piece of literature and get completely different things from it drives me crazy wild about English

Will an English degree lead me to a lifestyle where I can bath in imported water and and have a mansion made of gold and chocolate?  Probably not.  But I can buy a jar of olives, a good book, a piece of paper and a pencil....and that's good enough for me.