Firsts and lasts

This time of year has become a time of many firsts and many lasts....

I am teaching high school for the first time in my life, and just recently had my first day.

I finished the last day of my internship with the Deseret News.

And three days later I started my first day of my new internship.

Today was the first day of my last year of college.

Which also means, this past weekend was my last summer vacation of my college years.

I bought my first car all on my own.


And so many more....

Each last, seems to be the opening of a new first. And I can't wait to see where all my lasts take me, what all my first will teach me.




-- Post From My iPhone

I'm not a super model....

....but I am beautiful.

And no, I wouldn't classify my body as perfect....

....but it's mine.

So, I'm heading to the pool, wearing just my swimsuit.

No shorts covering the stretch marks on my legs, or my embarrassing tan line.

No t-shirt or tank to cover my imperfect cleavage.

Nope, nothing but the swimsuit, worn as it was intended.

I'm tired of hiding behind layers.

And don't worry, I'm not about to go streaking or anything.

....but I am becoming comfortable with me.

Comfortable enough to rock a blue and pink polka dotted tankini.

Oh yeah! Sunshine, here I come!






--Post From My iPhone

Unavailable

I don't always make the best choices in the men I choose to date.

Maybe I have been afraid of finding something really great (which comes with the even greater fear of losing it), so I've chosen the ones with impossible odds, it seemed safer.

I would choose the ones who were ultimately unavailable in some sense or another, or worse, I'd choose the ones who would never want me. (Which would, in the end, make them unavailable.)

When things would end, because they always would, I could always say that it was because they just didn't want me. (While completely true, it provided me with a scapegoat, I didn't have to admit my failures and poor choices.)

Now, just because they didn't want me or were unavailable, doesn't mean they weren't good guys. Sure, some were real class A douche bags, but, most were actually decent fellas. But, again, not available.

So, here's the crazy idea, what if I choose to be with someone who is available, someone who wants me, someone who sees me.

The possibilities are so great! We could be so great!

It's a real leap for me.

I'll be honest, the idea scares the hell out of me. (As I mentioned before, the fear of losing something sooo great is very scary.)

But, at the same time, the fear of never experiencing something so great is even scarier.

So, I'm standing at the door of this plane, and I'm jumping. And I'm counting on my chute to open.

And I can't wait to experience the thrill of falling!

-- Post From My iPhone

Sentimental

I think there are times when we all get a little sentimental.

It just happens.

When it does, we can soak it in, embrace it, love it...Or, we can shun it, spurn it, ignore it.

I usually do the latter. I think it freaks me out, because of all the feelings that come with it.

But today...I felt it coming on, and I took it in. I let it sit with me for the day. And you know what, I survived, not only that, but I really enjoyed the day.

And in a way, I feel like I've been able to connect my past with my present.

Which made me realize all the lovely things from my past can easily be woven into my current life, which is filled with the things I love.

Today I introduced dilly bars after swimming to my three loves. And what a smashing hit!





-- Post From My iPhone

Speaking of labels...what's your number?

Now, as I'm not one interested in labeling people, (as I mentioned in my previous post), one thing that has always intrigued me is a person's "number."

You hear people say, "oh she's a seven!" or "Mmm he's a nine, yowza!" or even "ugh, he's like a four, yikes!"

I've always been interested in how this number has been calculated.

For some it's purely based on looks, and scores seem to fall on the extreme ends of the stick. At first glance I think people are either very attractive or not so much.

But if you factor in personality, character, quirkiness, unique qualities, sense of humor and even how long you've known them, scores will often fall more in the middle ground.

And lower scores can even jump a few points.

What I wonder is, how important is this score? This number?

Can a 4 be with a 9?

Would a 9 even give a 4 a second glance?

I also wonder how everyone rates themselves. Do we downplay our strengths and positive traits? Or do we inflate our number, hoping to increase our chances of landing a perfect 10? (By the way, I don't think perfect 10's exist.)

I've always wondered what my number would be....

....what's yours?


-- Post From My iPhone

Labels

I dislike labels.

I don't like how they place limitations on people.

















Somehow they imply that a person is less capable, because of an invisible badge they wear.

And sometimes it becomes an excuse to write people off, without even knowing them.






But in the end, we all wear the same label....










--Post From My iPhone

Orchids

I think orchids = true love.

That's all.

Walking the tightrope

Sometimes I feel like my life is a circus, and I'm the one on the tightrope.

My ground below isn't sure, or steady.

And while the crazy music and laughing clowns swirl around me in a dizzying craze, I falter on the rope.

If only this were just a rehearsal, a practice run. If only the blaring lights weren't shedding their blinding and unforgivable shine on me.

But it's showtime, and I'm not ready. I don't really know what I'm doing.

When will the man on the flying trapeze swoop in and save me from certain death?

....he never will. He shouldn't anyway. I have to learn to master this art on my own.

The art of living, loving, overcoming.

Maybe I just need a safety net, in case I fall.

Numb thoughts

The music pounds.

It is my heartbeat.

The crescendo rises,

Just as my ache does.

Numb.

Numb.

Numb.

Stop the music,

Stop the pain.

Without the pain,

You didn't exist.

It's all in my head,

In my heart,

In the music.

It pounds.

My heart beats,

Numb.

Numb.

Numb.

The facts

Here are some cold, hard (and not so hard) facts about me...

I am terribly lonely.

I miss my kids whenever they are not with me.

I like pink, like a lot.

I judge people who don't have an iPhone.

I don't like people screwing with my systems.

I believe in magic.

I think I'm a difficult person to love.

But I also think I'm worth loving.

I hate crawling into my empty bed, alone, each night.

I am afraid of finding great love.

I'm afraid of not finding great love.

A change

Change is good.

Most of the time.

The summer has felt weird, uncomfortable.

I've grown a lot, I think (hence the discomfort), but it's just felt sort of surreal to me.

All summer I kept thinking, I'll wake from this dream state soon...right?

Well it's August and I'm still in this dream sequence.

It hasn't been a bad summer, I've done some really great things.

It has just felt weird.

Maybe this is all part of the adjustment, I don't know. I hope so. I hope I can settle in soon enough.

But I have felt the urge, near need for a change. And while much will be changing in a few weeks as school starts, I needed something now.

Of course I wanted something more grand, you know, like landing the perfect high paying job, falling into a ridiculously romantic relationship, buying a house, getting a cat, things like that.

But in leu of a grandeur, I will settle for a change in my hair.

It will have to hold me over, until I can grasp the great, the grand, the spectacular changes I desire.

Challenges and blessings

You say each day is a challenge and a blessing.

I always pray your blessings are greater than your challenges.

If you ever need a friendly ear, or shoulder to lean on, I'm here.

I miss the way things used to be.

But I always hope for your happiness, above all.

Taking risks

The first title I had for this post was "Being alone." But I decided "Taking risks," was more appropriate.

Being alone isn't easy.

And often, in order to avoid being alone, it involves risks...big risks.

What's worse?

Being alone or taking risks?

I suppose taking risks aren't bad in the general sense, but taking the kinds of risks that keep us from being alone are very scary.

I always think, I don't want to be alone...but then I think, if I am with someone, or wanting to be with someone, I have to open myself up to them. And what if that scares them away? What if they think I'm not enough, or I'm too much?

That's the biggest risk.

And how do you know when to take that risk? When is worth it? How much do you open up? How much do you drop your guard?

For someone who doesn't gamble, love, not being alone, is a huge gamble...a huge risk.