Summer Time, and the Livin's Easy

I love that summer feels like it does. It's not just the warm weather, but the feeling of long nights relaxing lazily. I'm lucky enough to live in a home with not only a pool, but a pond and a stream too...and I am so grateful. I love getting home from work and eating a nice dinner cooked on the grill and then sitting out back rocking with my feet up and head leaned back, eyes closed, playing footsies with my future husband. Ahh, what a life.
And then it gets more warm and this wonderful attitude I have right now goes straight out the window. I plan to work on that this year...lol.

I haven't continued writing about the things I had planned to write about, because life is so good right now that I don't need to look into the past to feel happy. I miss those friendships, but they are happy memories and I'm content to leave them there right now. I have so much planned this summer and so many things to look forward to. There are blossoming friendships, late night swims, marrying the man I'm head over heels for and enjoying alll that comes with that, family reunions, spending time with my brother, adopting a brand new family, beginning a new life as a wife and not just a daughter. Things are wonderful, and that warm breeze blowing softly through my wildly curly hair only enhances the feeling.

Impatient and Incapable

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Food Enemies Are Worse Than Food Allergies

So let’s talk about food here for a minute. Those of you that have seen me know that I obviously have a pretty healthy relationship with food. Not healthy in that my body is healthy, but healthy in that I’m not for want. I am proud to say that I’ve lost 50 lbs and continue to be on the losing track (well as long as I’m not slacking on the weekends…) so I'm on my way to a healthy body instead.

But how about we talk about what I really want to talk about, like cinnamon and eggs.
Don’t ask me why I want to provide you with two stories that would allow you never ending ammo in making fun of me…but I do think it’s funny and I like to make people laugh, so here we are.

Story Numero Uno:

Eggs. I love eggs; I can’t tell you how much I love eggs. One of my fonder memories is my father teaching me how to make a scrambled egg in the microwave. What a glorious day, the day I learned how to make an egg in one single minute. But no, that wasn’t enough for me, I wanted more. I wanted to have the luxury of an egg in the microwave, but with that warm, runny, yellow center. So I cracked the egg in the microwave safe dish and put it in the microwave for about a minute. I mean, who wouldn’t, right? So everything got nice and fluffy and white and boy-oh-boy did it look good! Until I saw the area around the yolk was still snot like in texture. So hey, how about another 30 seconds? And would you believe that area around the yolk still resembled snot?? I tell you what, I really contemplated another 30 seconds because technically I coulda’ made an authentic sunny side up egg right in the pan for the same amount of time at this point. But none the less, my little 12 year old mind just wasn’t fully developed (…or something.) and decided to go for another 30 seconds. I pull it out; the white of the egg is practically Rubbermaid Tupperware now. I take my fork and carefully peel back the white to reveal my beautiful flowing yellow TIME BOMB. That junk blew up in my face. Who knew that a yolk could turn into a live bomb all within 2 minutes? I wonder if terrorists know this…. There was egg EVERYWHERE. We lived on 4 acres of land at that time and our shed/garage thing was at the other end of the property. Well would you know that the dumb time bomb of an egg was loud enough that my father comes bolting in the house expecting to see his little girl in the company of a gun; instead he found his little girl covered in egg bits unable to move due to pure and utter shock. I unfortunately ended up with a wonderful scab above my left eye…and we had to stand on a chair to clean the ceiling.

Story Numero Dos:

So there was Alec, and he was pretty much a boney bundle of fun. And he and I and Erin and Nick used to hang out at my house a lot. He had a habit of offering up a dollar for any willing candidate to attempt a stunt of his choosing. I rarely cared for a dollar…or the embarrassment of attempting stunts I knew I could not accomplish. However, on this rare occasion, I felt pretty confident that I was a good candidate and that I would happily end up with a dollar in my pocket. Alec dared me that I could not swallow a tablespoon of cinnamon. I smiled real big because cinnamon is one of my favorite flavors in the world and I just knew that I could choke down a lousy tablespoon. You see where this is going I’m sure. So I get a nice little spoon full and tip my head back and dump into my mouth that rounded spoon full of cinnamon goodness. I was alright at first; I mean I think I definitely coughed a little because of its fine powdery consistency. But I quickly realized that I was incapable of breathing through my mouth…and to follow directly behind that realization, the realization that I also could not breathe through my nose. Who knew that cinnamon was a life sucking, soul capturing, jerk of a spice? It does this thing where as you are swallowing, the moisture in your mouth basically becomes nonexistent right about that point where your nasal cavity meets your throat. So Nick and Erin were just overcome with laughter by now; we had one thing and one thing only in common…there was tears running down each of our cheeks. Poor Alec was freaking out about as much as I was, pounding me on the back shouting the command of, “BREATHE!” And boy did I try. After many glasses of water, a lot of coughing and gagging, and a sink full of chunky cinnamon I could breathe again. My throat hurt for about a week after that and I still have a bad feeling when I eat anything with a strong cinnamon flavor.

So there you have it, 2 of my favorite foods becoming my enemies because of my own stupidity. It is okay if you laugh, I’m still alive, breathing, and smiling to the max! :)

And for the record, I never got a dollar from Alec. I mean, I didn't successfully accomplish the task, therefore, no dollar. I vote that I should have gotten the dollar for nothing less than a fearless attempt...

Tongue Lashings

I'm taking a break writing about my past friendships for a moment and writing something different. I wrote this same thing on my livejournal, but decided to write it here too since it is a fairly personal glimpse into the person I am trying to be...Might be helpful for anyone who doesn't know me, but would like to.

Feeling kinda weird today. Feeling a little somber, little quiet, feeling small. As always, not sure I can get my words out right to describe what I'm really feeling. I guess I just feel little. Or belittled. Maybe that's better. I hold my tongue in lots of aspects of life because it is the right thing to do, but sometimes I just want that release. I'm not sure why, any other time I've chosen to not hold my tongue it has always been ended up disasterous. I've ruined various friendships/relationships and really hurt people, causing a lot of regret. It's really kind of funny. People have always told me that I'm one of the nicest people they've ever met, that they can't see me being mean, or they can't see me being hurtful, or that they can't see me losing my temper...and I'd love it if I could say that they were right. But I've had my time of losing control, I've had my moments of pure and utter rage, I've had moments where I couldn't believe that those words came out of my mouth or those actions were my own.
But through all of that, I've learned that sometimes holding my tongue or speaking enouraging words instead is more often than not the better choice. Proverbs 15:1 says "A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger" and I've kind of taken on that attitude, not even kind of, I definately have. The thing is that it's not easy, by any means. And I often wonder if I'm going to end up being bitter about it down the road and turn into some outspoken, hated, bitty of a woman that needs her tongue cut out, because hooo boy!
But even more so than wondering that...I honestly believe and pray that as I continue to do the right thing, my heart will remain soft and that as time goes by it will become easier and easier to make the right choices, and based on experience...I will be blessed for my choices. I guess you could compare it to some people's belief in Kharma...along the same lines, I believe scripture in that...you reap what you sew. You get back what you put in. And I really hope that in the mean time, those good decisions will be an example. Gosh that sounds really self-righteous and self-centered....but that's not how I mean it. I just know that, sure, sometimes I just want to let loose and go off...but all the other times I feel so much better knowing I did the right thing. And that's really the example I want to be, if possible...I don't know what I'm hoping to prove by typing all of this out and babbling on and on, except to hopefully puff myself back up a little bit and stop feeling like what I have to say doesn't matter. I'm going to school to be a counselor for God's sake...if what I say doesn't matter to SOMEONE, than I'm wasting thousands of dollars on my education...not to mention a lot of time and energy.

Gone are the days...

Alright, so I promised to write about my friends from CHS, GCF, and Capital. Not quite sure who that promise even matters to, but I keep my promises. And so I will attempt to compose a half decent account of my friendships from those places…or at least CHS in this post. These posts seem to become much longer than expected as I compose them….

High school was not exactly the most pleasant experience of my life. Actually, pretty much anything school related I would be happy to neatly tuck away in some dark corner never to be revisited. However, I actually met some really cool people there...so that option is well, not an option.
I moved to North Carolina my freshman year of high school. I know, crazy right? Moving to a brand new state the beginning of my high school career?? How about we add some icing to that delicious cake, it was also my first year in public school...ever. I had attended "Christian School" from pre-school until 8th grade and public school was well, quite the new experience. It really could have gone either way...I could have stayed sheltered and naive or I coulda' busted out of my tightly constructed shell and gone "buck-wild". I count myself lucky, because neither of those 2 things happened (at least not until later), I found a happy medium somewhere right in between.
I can remember orientation, everyone had on their melon, orange, and red Tommy Hilfiger polo shirts with their khaki bell bottoms or golf shorts. I was still wearing straight leg pants with t-shirts and white tennis shoes from cheap clothing stores in Maryland that have long since been shut down, and who was this Tommy guy?
I met Sheila at orientation. She had on a tight red baby doll shirt with black jeans; the legs were 5 times bigger than her own. She was short and had her long hair pulled back in a pony tail. She was friendly and talked a lot.
My brother walked me to my classes for the first few weeks of school until I figured everything out. I can't remember who I spent the most time with during those first few years. Oh I remember their names, but I don't have any stories that are worth re-telling on here. There was Janie, whose brother was in Virginia because he had done something bad and got sent away. There was Heather, who had moved from Mt. Airy just like I had, except North Carolina instead of Maryland. There was Allison, she was quiet but fun and, like me, just wanted someone to be best friends with. There was Crystal and Angelica, and Deanna...she looked just like Brittney Spears in the early days. There was Aimee and Sara (without the H, thank you very much!) and Patty, Kerri, and Lindsay. To be honest, I probably spent most of my time with Sara. That is until my brother “stole” her from me…they dated for 5 years and she is the reason that he moved to Wilmington, however not the reason he stayed.
The friends that I enjoy remembering at CHS are Nicole, Christina, Danielle, Jeff, and Sonya. Weirdly enough, Nicole and I stayed friends sporadically and when I began dating my ex, she ended up knowing him and his brother from before she ever met me, they had gone to middle school together.
Christina…the memories that I have with that girl are insane and countless. We had so many inside jokes it was beyond ridiculous. I experienced many “firsts” with her…including smoking pot and skipping school. She ended up in the hospital after the first time we smoked pot…it was laced with something and she was not digging the hot pink hammers flying at her face. I was grounded for 3 months for that one. We also skipped school to go to the fair. Would you believe the school never caught us, but my dad did? Yup, grounded for that one too. Her and my best friend at the time were interested in each other. I began cleaning out my storage unit this past weekend and found a note from her about him, she wanted me to tell him that she’d love to be his girlfriend when she was through being grounded…good times.
Danielle and I still talk on a regular basis, she found me on MySpace after seeing me in Wal-Mart. I had been afraid to speak up…would she remember me? Evidently so. She is married with 3 boys and is so much different than she was back then…but she still calls me “chica” and it makes me smile. Danielle, Lindsay, and I used to meet at the Sonic after school before I had to be at work. We found a pack of Newport’s on the ground one day after school, there were 6 left. Lindsay said she had been hoping to start smoking again anyway (???); we lit them up and so began my nicotine addiction. Those were the days when I was not talented enough to light my own, so either Danielle, Lindsay, or some-guy-that-I-cannot-for-the-life-of-me remember his name would light them. Hilariously enough, they did this for about 3 months before I got the guts to try on my own. Ahh, the good days.
Jeff and Sonya were basically my best friends throughout junior and senior year. We had Allied Health Science classes together and learned how to take blood pressure and wipe butts. We used to take our lunch off campus against school rules and smoke Nat Sherman’s and eat Bojangle’s fries with egg n’ cheese biscuits while listening to Thousand Foot Krutch and Missy Elliot. Sonya has a baby now and is in the Air Force, we talk occasionally. Jeff moved to New York after high school and I’ve never been able to find him again, which makes me unbelievably sad.
High School sucked…but these people left their mark on my heart. They will always be remembered fondly and I can only hope they have as many great memories of me as I do of them.
GCF and Capital to come next….Nate will probably have an entry all to himself.