Posts Tagged ‘Life’

Time. It changes things, and change reflects time’s nature.

This weekend brought many thoughts to the forefront of my mind… for some reason when family comes to visit it just happens.

I left the snug room in the apartment I share with Brandon and Steph last Thursday to drive home to Wartburg for the 4th of July holiday. Mom told me previously that she remodeled my butterfly covered bright blue bedroom, so it was no surprise to me when I came home and saw that it was now a neutral brown, black and teal colored room with a futon instead of my bed inside. It was expected.

I’ve had many changes in my life. I’ve had my ups, downs and breakdowns alongside moments of triumph.

And for some reason, great weeks are always followed by something looming… by utterly crappy emotions, experiences and moments that build character.

Right now, my character is treading a sea filled with tears. I am an emotional being.

Last week was amazing; I’ll just be honest. I worked out everyday, ate amazingly healthy even for me, and I even went shopping at Gap (c’mon, the sales are irresistible). Two nights ended in conversations with Lance lasting more than 30 minutes, the weather was perfect and it was a short week: July 4th fell on a Friday.

Plus, I saw numerous relatives that stayed at the house all weekend from Ohio.

It was nearly perfect. I was home, seeing family, on a very extended weekend.

But all good things come to an end.

An indescribable feeling of emptiness surrounds me when a full house suddenly decreases to three people in a matter of moments. Watching them drive away was like being punched in the gut and I realized… the perfect weekend was over, and I, too, would soon return to my work-filled routine.

In an attempt to bring back the feelings that once were only a matter of hours ago, I walked outside onto the lone porch and into the empty yard. I picked up the corn bags and started practicing my corn hole techniques, then moved on to ladder golf once my arms were sore. My parents came out to relax, and Dad and I played a few rounds of ladder golf. But something besides the laughter and babies, someone without imposable thumbs, was missing.


I remember when I first laid eyes on that dog. It was a chilly November night, and Lance and I had just left church and pulled in the driveway when something small and white in the headlights caught my attention.

At first, I thought it was a rabbit, but then after looking closer I realized it was a very skittish mix of Jack Russell Terrier and something else. He was only a pup and skinny as a rail. You could count the ribs on him.

My heart melted right away, and after countless attempts to pet him, Lance and I finally coaxed him to get close to us with some leftover fries. Dad at first wanted to pay him no attention, hoping he would go back home, if he had one at all. Mom had a way, though, and Dad too warmed up to him and eventually built a doghouse complete with carpet and heat for colder nights.

We named him Peanut for two reasons:

  1. He peed a lot
  2. He was hyper, like a nut. No other name suited him better…

Mom saw him first. He was under the back porch by a bush. Normally he would be roaming around the back yard sniffing his territory with Fido, our aging Chihuahua. Something about Peanut wasn’t right… Dad had to pull him out from his spot and immediately we knew a vet must intervene.

We drove over to Karns and waited to see the vet. He was puny; didn’t move hardly at all… peaceful, almost.

Tests were run and everything checked out O.K. We paid the bill and went on our way, thinking he would recover after some prescribed medication.

Apparently, we were wrong.

A pet’s death never comes easily, no matter how long he or she is with you. We grow attached, play with them and either congratulate or regurgitate at the sight of a prized trophy on the back doorstep. We yell when they run out into the road and comfort them when they’re afraid of thunderstorms. We love them unconditionally, and they love us back. They learn from us, and we learn from them.

It’s been over one year since I gave my valedictory at graduation. I wish I’d kept it; it kicked butt, basically. It covered all the bases and summed up our years in the Morgan County School System pretty well: touch on getting screwed over multiple times, quickly change subject to how that helped us adapt to change, ending with learning to embrace our changes ahead in life, and I even sprinkled some song lyrics here and there.

Looking back now, I realize that speech was mostly meant for me. I knew I wasn’t ready to change my way of life; I knew I wasn’t really ready for everything I once knew to be stripped away in a matter of months (I once tried, unsuccessfully, to drown myself when I was 10 after my oldest brother graduated high school and two months later my grandma passed away. I was afraid of the future, the unknown). Once I thought I’d adapted to what had changed then, something else came along and signaled to me that I was growing up — my bedroom changed, I’m working more than relaxing during the summer, it’s hard to cope with a pet of only eight months dying.

It doesn’t help that I’m also gaining a year this Wednesday (July 16).

Change sucks. As Ben Folds once wrote in his song Still Fighting It,

“everybody knows it sucks to grow up, but everybody does…and let me tell you what, the years go on and we’re still fighting it…”

No matter how old we get, no matter how “seasoned” we are, will be, or ever were, it seems that change is the biggest challenge for each human being, for each soul. Time and change go hand-in-hand; they’re in cahoots with each other. They resemble Siamese twins joined at the hip and are inseparable. It’s inevitable.

“…And life’s like an hourglass glued to the table.”

Such haunting words, yet they fit now.

We can’t re-wind life. What’s happened has happened, and there’s no changing it. All we can do is roll with the punches, adapt, learn and move on. That’s time, that’s change and that’s life.

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Did you hear about the woman that stayed in the bathroom for so long her skin grew to the toilet seat?
No, really, here’s the link: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23595533/

Can you say ridiculous?

Alright, so this isn’t exactly the most timely manner to write about this, I’m well aware. But come on, I’m a busy kid. Writing a blog on this subject isn’t exactly at the top of my to-do list… if I have one… I’ll have to check it…

Hopefully this isn’t too much for you guys, but the reason I’m writing on this particular subject is because I just returned from the loo after being in there at least an hour. Facebook made it bearable, but two years? Really?Sunrise in Florida

Think of all the things you would miss! All the sunsets, sunrises, long walks, movies, manicures, shopping, job experiences, education, basic hygiene, dates, weddings, births would be gone, ripped away by Father Time. And you can’t get back a second of your life, let alone two years of it.

Think back over the past two years of your life. What did you do? What did you accomplish? Who came in or left from your life? What changes happened? How many jobs did you go through? Cars did you wreck? Countries or other states you visited? Goals you met?

Two years is a lot of time. A lot of time to waste, but a lot of time to get busy living… or get busy dying. I’d rather live, if that’s OK. I’m pretty sure it is, unless God would rather take me, and that’d be fine too.

Thinking back over the past two years of my life, I realize that I’ve accomplished plenty of things not many do in two years time. For example, I finally visited New York City TWICE! That’s something I never dreamed of doing until after college! I saw Lance sing in Carnegie Hall, graduated from high school as one of five valedictorians… and gave a pretty awesome speech… became a Lady Vol on the novice rowing team (and quit a few months later), started writing for The Daily Beacon and Tennessee Journalist and from there my life has practically spawned out of control with opportunities I never dreamed of.

I never thought I would be working at the Knoxville News Sentinel so soon… and I’m only going to be a sophomore. Dang.

Two crazy years of my life proved to, so far, be the most fruitful, and I’m thankful for that. I wonder what she could’ve done with two years instead of sitting in the bathroom for so long… find a cure for cancer? Be the next Oprah? Who knows?

Take life, but not for granted. Use every second to your advantage, and don’t stay in the bathroom for two years without leaving or getting up once. It’s not attractive, and what will you get accomplished besides a few weeks of humiliating fame? A big hospital bill to remove the seat from your body. That’s what.

And for risk of sounding cheesy… Life is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present. 😉

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With the end of my first year at school quickly coming to a close, I’m finding myself getting frantic once more.

The end of classes mean finals. The end of the school year means what the heck is The Daily Beacon and Tennessee Journalist going to write about? The end of the school year also means much shorter deadlines, and, if you don’t write the articles and get them in before April 24, they won’t be published. And that means less exposure to potential employers…. not exactly what I want.

The end of the school year also also means moving out of the dorms and into another apartment, which means paying rent, which means finding a job that pays more than just minimum wage with more hours, all the while keeping up grades in math classes over the summer. Bah.

Sound fun? You’re smoking crack if you think it does. Perhaps I need a hit of it, just to get me through it all.

Or not.

Let’s not throw in trying to coax professors to let you into their superior classes, either. Especially when you’re not majoring in that department, or have at least 3 years ahead of you to get them later. They don’t care. Dang big university.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth all the trouble, then I think that I could easily be working in Wartburg at Partner’s living off tips of one dollar a table instead of challenging myself to reach the goals I’ve set so high.

I’m supposed to get an internship at Teen Vogue, Elle, Vanity Fair or Marie Claire, dadgumit. And I’m going to get there, and no one… NO ONE will stop me.

Except the editors of those prestigious magazines… maybe them. But mark my words, I’ll be living in NYC even if I’m just an artistic hobo living on the streets. At least I’m there. Maybe I’ll be discovered while starving to death and become a model, earning millions just by walking down a catwalk in $1,000+ clothing. Effortless.

How awesome would that be? Oh yeah, you’re jealous now. I can tell.

Whatever it be that I choose to do, to become, to write, I’m sure it’s going to serve a purpose in God’s divine plan for my life. The trick is, I just got to figure out what it is…

Could someone give me his number? E-mail? I’d appreciate it. Thanks.

Have a great day, guys. And for those of you choosing to read my blogs, thanks. It makes my day when I see that people really do read this thing, kind of like someone is listening.

I appreciate it. 🙂 It’s for, and because of, people like you that I keep writing.

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Fitting into a place sucks. Let’s just be honest. No matter where you end up in life, you’re bound to be different and absolutely HAVE to find a way to fit in somehow, someway, without changing who you are.

Lately I’ve been reading Prep, a New York Times Bestseller that Lance had to read last year for English. When he passed it on to me, I wanted to read it, but naturally would rather be on the Internet.

A picture of what I see everydayAnyways, about a year later I’ve opened the cover to discover (like the rhyme?) that it’s hard to put down…
…and stop thinking about how I feel just like the main character. Or at least I can relate.

We’ve all been in that position…

…new town, new school, new people

It’s intimidating, especially if you’re from a small mid-western town moving to the East Coast to attend a boarding school the last four years before college. To make matters worse, let’s throw in the money aspect, you know, the hierarchy where whoever is the prettiest with the most money gets it all.

That’s how I felt when I came to college, minus the high school part (I’ve already been through heck and back in high school, and I’d like to not go through it again). Small-town girl goes to a big university, middle-class and trying to keep up with everybody while maintaining a 4.0 that waved goodbye with my first astronomy exam. Sound familiar? Join the club. I can be president.

It’s hard trying to fit in these days. Like I said before, you have to have money, smarts and looks. Not all of us have that, but I know most of us have a great personality that shines through the dirt and grime…
…while others’ dirt and grime covers the glossiness of their hierarchal status. You know?

Bah, anyways kids, the moral of the story is to be true to yourself. Only God’s judgment counts, not everyone else’s. And if you’re cool with God, then everything else falls into place.

Like perhaps choosing the right major for you. Bah. Let’s not go there…

My how time flies. 1 a.m. and I have a 9:40 class….

Writing is addictive in the same way alcohol is. Tastes bad at first, but it’s an acquired taste.
Hmm… maybe that’s not the best analogy in the world… but it’ll do.

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