How To Tell You Are a Student Leader

I realize quite frequently that my everyday actions are shaped by my decision to serve as a leader in several organizations, and I wanted to make a list of the things that make me laugh as I realize they really pinpoint me as someone who is a student leader:

a) You are a student leader if you put your organizations before your homework at least 95% of the time.
b) You are a student leader if you don't have to look at the policy book or governing documents to know that you are accurate when someone asks you a question about an organization.
c) You are a student leader if you answer phone calls and texts into the wee hours of the morning.
d) You are a student leader if you struggle to say "no" when you know you probably should to maintain sanity.
e) You are a student leader if you attempted to color-code your planner, but then gave up when you realized that all meeting times are subject to change.
f) You are a student leader if you spend more time in an organizational office than you do sleeping in your own room.
g) You are a student leader if you have ever managed to survive for multiple days solely on the food and beverage options available in the organizational office that you spend obscene amounts of time staffing.
h) You are a student leader if you have ever sat through a meeting where it took approximately half an hour to decide the color of a t-shirt.
i) You are a student leader if "reply to all" is set as your default in your email account.
j) You are a student leader if your to-do lists for your organizational involvement are at least twice as long as your academic to-do lists.
k) You are a student leader if you generally keep multiple chat and messenger options available to others and respond equally to all.
l) You are a student leader if you have ever had a discussion concerning your email response time and it being too fast.
m) You are a student leader if you believe that reading governing documents, bids, and legislation all constitute an excellent social activity.
n) You are a student leader if you attempt to rearrange your work schedule simply to be available during schedule chat or meeting times for an organization.
o) You are a student leader if you can creep effectively to gather the information you need to succeed.
p) You are a student leader when you take the time to show someone that you care by sending a card or an inspirational message their way.
q) You are a student leader when you look at your Facebook account and realize that your family has accepted all of the odd things that are posted on your wall as a fact of life and start liking them.
r) You are a student leader when your idea of 'multitasking' involves meeting with multiple organizations at once through various means.
s) You are a student leader when it takes you less than 10 minutes to be prepared for a formal meeting.
t) You are a student leader when nearly every photo of you on Facebook features you at an organizational event.
u) You are a student leader if you know the importance of the no-shame principle.
v) You are a student leader when you know that you are never alone despite the struggles that you may face.
w) You are a student leader if you have ever spent part of your weekend writing legislation.
x) You are a student leader when the people in your speed dial immediately following at least one family member are often are others involved in mutual organizations.
y) You are a student leader if you know and understand the importance of scheduling chats simply to vent.
z) You are a student leader when life has no routine or normalcy.

Obviously, this is not an inclusive list. I haven't decided if I want to add more to it or not at this time, so I will simply state that you should stay tuned and wait for more important updates if I so choose. Remember, the life of a student leader is always full of unexpected items, so I couldn't begin to tell you when I will blog next.

Plagues Against Society: Special Edition

Tonight, I am reviving my "Plagues Against Society" series because I feel that a strong issue has come to a point in my life where I need to find a way to outlet about it, and I am feeling the need to blog as well, so here it goes.

People who do their jobs in the hopes of obtaining a certain award or a certain type of recognition piss me off. The reason you take on a job is because you can perform its duties and live up to its responsibilities, not because you want some shiny award.

When you do get your shiny award, is it going to be something that you show off with pride, flaunt to garner more attention, or you toss in a box to look at once every few years? What type of legacy are you leaving to receive it, and what memories are you leaving with others who are affected by your work?

I personally hope that your skin crawls when you read this and realize the type of 'leadership' you exemplify when you have these convoluted goals is nothing to cause great amounts of pride. People aren't going to be impressed by someone who is in it to win it for the wrong reasons.

To summarize: Do it for the right reasons, not for the deceptively prideful reasons.

The Changes that 50ish Days Can Bring

As I realized recently, it has been quite some time since I have written a blog post. Quite frankly, life has been too busy. It sucks to say that, because blogging is a source of calm for me. Not having time to do the things that calm me if I want to obtain at least a few hours of sleep on a nightly basis is frustrating. It's difficult to unwind, but I have turned to one of my class tasks coupled with plenty of rap music to do so. I'm becoming the most miserable miler that a person could find out on a track at 6am, and am even learning the names of the regulars who come faithfully every morning and are already out walking when I am grumbling and dragging my lazy bones out of bed to begin my day far earlier than the average college student.

I am blessed that I have people in my life who are a text or phone call away that help to keep me sane. Jacob, Howard, Jacob, Bonnie, and so many others - you who best understand what I am going through while trying to pioneer a new path for future individuals who hold my current position on the Regional Board of Directors for MACURH have been nothing short of a blessing. It has been such an uphill battle not only to create some real structure for this position aside from points listed in policy, but to also ensure that I am completing all of its requirements and taking the time to prepare transitions of tasks as I go. I have loved every moment of getting to know the representatives from new schools and begin schools on their path to affiliation by assisting in the creation of Hall Councils and other residence hall governing organizations.

It is interesting to see the interactions between myself and my professors this semester. It seems strange to have such a simplistic semester in terms of classes, although there is a heavy level of memorization within the health sphere of things. My coaching practicum class does put a huge demand on my afternoons as I struggle to find times where I can attend practices or observe an athletic director. It's always interesting to explain why I am missing classes for conferences, and to see the varying levels of acceptance that professors have for me doing so.

I plan on posting a completely random blog to go along with my "Things that Just Shouldn't Happen!" type of posts very soon...I've been mulling on a new topic for a about a week now, and I believe I can finally begin to do it justice.

freaky dreams 8.10.2010

So, as most people do, I sleep. Unlike most people, my dreams typically depict a time in the future, and are usually something that I can connect with a specific instance. However, this dream was absolutely bonkers and is something that I hope never happens to me in my life. My guess is that it was a combination of watching Howard the Duck, Big Brother After Dark, and Foamy's Rant that led to such a crazy dream...

I was with a few friends, and we were road tripping across the desert in the middle of the night. The car was rolling along when we realized we were starting to get low on gas. Up ahead, a solitary beacon of light caught our attention: an old Texaco gas station decorated to look like a giant cactus. The four of us quickly stumbled from our sanctuary within the car that had been our capsule throughout our journey and decided to journey to the restrooms. One of us had the presence of mind to actually have the keys and lock the doors to our car so we wouldn't be stranded in the middle of the desert at the gas station we all called "Magnum Cactus" without phone service or much of a link to the outside world aside from the dinky little television the store clerk had to watch reruns of Gilligan's Island.

A sign pointed downstairs to depict the restroom location, and being the brave one - okay, maybe the one who had to go pee the worst - I decided to walk down the rickety flight of stairs first. The downstairs of this strange gas station was questionable and looked rather dirty from the little light that was available. I found something that looked rather like a toilet and started to head that way...when I realized that there were several of what I thought were stuffed animals in the way...but was horrified to find out that these were actually stuffed sexual organs. We joked about wading in a sea of boobs and dicks, and then kept searching for a bathroom. At this point, I was about to pee my pants. A bathroom had better appear almost instantly, or else I was going to be in trouble.

After walking past a room of scantily clad individuals that looked as though they were trapped and had not seen sunlight in at least a year, we finally found the bathrooms to discover that they were the one person only sort. Not being brave enough to go in alone after all of the sights that we had seen on our journey, we debated simply going and peeing outside to avoid diseases. As one person held the door open, someone would relieve themselves and quickly rotate to the sink to wash their hands. I think all of us had visions of hand sanitizer dancing in our heads knowing that it was out in the car.

Having finally managed to find a bathroom, we then decided to try to retrace our steps back upstairs so we could grab a snack and get gas as that was our original reason for stopping. We once again walked past the underground dwellers and waded through the pit of stuffed boobs and dicks with a few stops for pictures to prove where we had been. After finally making it to the staircase, we were hopeful to see a bit of normalcy.

No such luck. As we reached the top of the staircase, the clerk stood there brandishing a gun and demanding that we turn around and head back down. Once again, being the dumb individual who decided to walk in front, I now had a sawed-off shotgun pointed at me that could have blown me and my friends into two very separated nasty halves around the waist level. Our options were to take our chances with the armed clerk or to go downstairs and join the palest people we had ever seen and pray that someone realized we were missing soon. Being risk-takers - I mean, why else would you drive across the desert? - we decided on option #1 without speaking a word to one another, and I jumped toward our once-upon-a-time friendly store clerk who had been all too eager to point us on our way to the restroom. After a desperate struggle, we finally managed to tie up the store clerk, left money for our gas that we purchased on the counter, and open the doors for the others downstairs to escape what surely must have been some sort of brothel.

This is the point where I woke up to the rude alarm that decides to interrupt dreams.

when the beat stops

it happens occasionally. the central beat, the rhythm that causes blood to flow continually through my veins, simply stops. it could be at anytime. it could be anywhere. something that other people find frightening, i find completely normal. why? because i have faith. i believe that even though the beat may stop temporarily, my heart is simply trying to find its own beat. i do have a heart murmur...congenital. for a while, it was questionable whether or not i should have been participating in any athletic activities, although i refused to quit because my syncopation caused others concern.

rather than gliding gracefully with a smooth, steady beat, my heart has been stuck in some sort of jazz rhythm my entire life. one of the most amazing things to me is listening to others heartbeat...the slow, steady, constant beat is something that will never fail to be one of the most precious sounds i have ever heard, simply because it is one thing that i cannot rely upon myself to do.

i've always fibbed when you do the cute little things in class where you take your pulse to find out your resting and active heart rate. when your heart doesn't beat normally, it's difficult to tell how to count. whenever i go to the wellness center [usually for the free salt packets and occasional note for missing class haha just kidding, i'm probably actually sick if i'm going there], the nurses always comment on how odd it sounds. reassuring, right? how do you expect someone not trained in such a field to know what to do if someone who is trained is unable to properly tell and has to call a doctor over for what should be simple preliminary information gathering?

as cher would say, the beat goes on. you know what? she's right.

In Tongues.

The tiger doesn't have a best friend. Never has. Always hunts alone. The wins and the losses are celebrated with the same routine: a slow, careful assessment of what went right and what can be improved for the future, because even with the leanest, most unhealthful diet the tiger lives on to see another day.

The opponents slice away at the reputation of the tiger with each and every day that the stomach continues to growl. Far more than the stomach growls - the soul hungers for something more: to belong. The stripes have never been accepted.

Waiting Rooms and Soap Operas

Today is not a typical Wednesday. I haven't had a typical Wednesday in quite some time, come to think of it.

Today's scenery features some accommodating-looking benches and seats that look as though no one sits in them for extended periods of time sprawled throughout a waiting room. I've discovered why no one would want to sit in these chairs - and might have a hard time sitting still during the journey north tomorrow. For once, I'm doing the waiting. It seems strange. Elderly men are scattered throughout this room, as their wives are anxiously checking to ensure everything is okay closer to the surgery center. At this particular moment, there are no small children waiting. The peace is interrupted only by the clicking of keys on my keyboard, the frustrated flips of magazine pages by one rather cranky-looking man, and two televisions maybe 20 feet apart from each other struggling to be more annoying. The large windows allow me to look out into the parking lot, the busy road in front of the center, and slightly beyond that to the next set of parking lots. Medical Mile offers little in the way of actual scenery.

The small concessions made for comfort consist of a coffee dispenser. For those that drink coffee, that might help make the wait bearable. Wise to the ways of hospitals, I brought along my own giant water bottle and several snack options. Trust me, I'm not a fat kid. I'm just looking out for my survival, since I have been in this room for 6 overwhelmingly enjoyable hours now. Conveniently, the waiting room is also decently close to a large vending machine that I know better than to use [it likes to eat my money and leave me staring longingly at the empty calories proudly displayed inside] and bathrooms that evidently missed out on the building-wide remodeling project. A small box of actual Kleenex sits atop the registration counter.

The truly amazing thing about this room would have to be the number of hand-sanitizer dispensers one can find throughout. Despite the lack of wall space that isn't already covered with some attempt of looking cultured or refined, there are no less than 6 dispensers to be found in this rather strange waiting room. When I want to stretch my legs for a bit, I decide upon a path to take me past each and every one of them. I also make sure to use all of them, mostly to further the opinion that young people are strange to all those who surround me in this tiny cubicle of germ infestation.

As I journeyed from one hand sanitizer dispenser to the next, I realized that each and every one of them featured a different brand posted on the outside. Hospitals know far more than one would think about making sure they get the best deal for themselves...and evidently have no issues with mounting another hand sanitizer dispenser in order to obtain some free germ-killing liquid goodness.

If nothing else, I have enjoyed borrowing your wireless internet for the day, waiting room. The other thing I have appreciated - how well the various soap operas and television shows fit together seamlessly in one plot as both televisions are blasted at volumes necessary to ensure that all present are able to hear. iCarly and the Young and Restless is quite the combination if you get bored.

Workaholic Lifestyle

It's very difficult for me to "take a break" or "relax". Of course, I can do these things, but I prefer to work nonstop [or as nonstop as possible] with little regard to what day of the week it is or what time of the day/night it happens to be. To most people, this is a problem. To me, it's a way of life.

I believe in giving my all. If something needs to be done, I'm going to take the time to do it right.It's not that I don't have fun. Quite the opposite, really. I believe I'm there for my friends when they need me, and I know I've got friends outside of the computer. At least they pretend to like me, and they aren't in my imagination.

Everyone's life is different. So give them a chance to be themselves without having to struggle through judgment for how they choose to use their time. I have always been one to massively overpack, and with my time, I am no different. Sitting aimlessly has never been for me. How do you pack your days?

I can feel something inside me say "I really don't think you're strong enough."

Challenges.                        
We stand tall.                    
The brute force                  
and the distaste of            
others will always lead
me to want nothing
more than to say
goodbye to all
that I know.

This poem is as unlike me as it gets. I am the overly determined person who doesn't like it when others rain on my parade. Yes, I know, the glass is NOT overflowing with positive energy and commitment. I'm no fool. At the same time, it's important to be optimistic.

I don't start something halfheartedly. I am in it to win it. I give it my all, and am not satisfied until I can sense that I have made great strides and changed something for the better. While it's simple to simply allow things to "continue on as they always have and always will", this particular mindset is the one that makes me most determined to be open to change. Traditions will have their place, and while there are those traditions I love dearly, it's important to also stay in the present.

My mindset has been in the wrong place lately. My worries have led me to focus less than I should. My attentions have been pulled away by matters that I cannot influence as heavily as I wish.

What I can do is stay strong, keep working hard, and always keep in mind that a to-do list is not a contract for each and every day, but rather that I need to make sure to stay sane and balanced with all that I do. While I appreciate the additional responsibilities that others have entrusted me to execute, I also am concerned that no one, least of all myself, has a real understanding of what I am supposed to do to make this all become reality. I'm sure I'll figure it. Eventually.

a school assignment.

Snapshots. Memories.

A lifetime to say hello, a moment to say goodbye.

You know that you are starting with nothing, and struggling to build.

You’ve studied and scrambled for every break you get.

Being the young one is tough sometimes.  At least it’s only a number.

Needing help from others is not a sign of weakness, but of opportunity that you are blessed with.

It’s difficult to close the door on the people who hurt you.

It’s worse to know that you’re being the bigger person and bleeding inside.

You struggle through each and every moment, pretending to be happy.

Speak up.

[Listen to: Photograph: Nickelback, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BB0DU4DoPP4

All I Do Is Win: DJ Khaled http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GGXzlRoNtHU&feature=fvst]

It isn’t going to be the end of the world to be known as the girl who spoke her mind.

You’ll see that tomorrow comes even if you end today completely mortified.

Being the girl who has to leave prom for medical reasons is one way to be remembered.

You’ll know that no matter what happens, you must keep in touch with yourself.

You’ll stay strong, be proud, and sing along to every song that blasts from the cheap radio.

Dance even through it is raining, scream because it hurts, and love because you can.

Staying strong is about so much more than making sure that everyone else is okay.

You have to be whole first.

[Listen to: Headstrong: Trapt, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTvu1Yr3Ohk

Make It Rain: Fat Joe http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4dPjONDN3ZI]

Your cocoon will soon be bursting open as you kiss the small-town life goodbye.

Leaving to go to college is something that you’ve longed for since junior high.

You’ve known all along that you were going to dash away the first chance you got.

Minimizing connections, trying hard to make sure that you do just enough to seem normal.

You struggle with the concept that you may someday need to come back to this place.

Remember, the world is an entire globe, not the tip of one pin.

Raise your voices, raise them high will do more than be a song lyric.

It will be the way to live.

[Listen to: Raise Your Voices: Girls State Song, (I am NOT filming this epic performance, but can do it!)

I Like To Move It – Reel to Real http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dyx4v1QFzhQ]

Beauty isn’t about the money people spend on clothes or the time they spend putting on makeup.

You’ve realized a long time ago that you’re surrounded by ugliness of the soul and heart.

The people who want to change you, make you into something you’re not are soon forgotten.

Simply because they themselves have decided to get lost…in the world of pretty facades.

They lose themselves into the bottles and cans of alcohol that are so freely available

And fail to recognize the true potential of what they could be, if only…

[Listen to: Breakaway: Kelly Clarkson, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-3vPxKdj6o

Affirmation: Savage Garden http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wK3qhrE4-T8]

The songs of childhood, so simple and sweet.

The songs of adolescents make your parents wonder what sort of monster you’ve hidden inside.

As you turn it up, simply to drown everything out, you don’t realize the scope of your actions.

You’re tuning out far more than other people, you’re reverting to a time of simplicity.

The times alone mean so much, for you finally get to think.

The only interruption is the brief pause between songs.

Your chin quivers as you think about the pain you went through over the past several years

You write, scribble, write, scribble, and are unsure of what to say to wash the pain away

Your commencement address is one that contains nothing of what you want to say

But the hidden message is very clear to those you hold dear:

Run away. Don’t invest your time, your love, your passion here. The small town kills it all.

The people are poison. They invite you in, pretend to be polite.

Acceptance is only for those who join in their crusade. For the others, you’ll never be allowed in.

[Listen to: Kryptonite: 3 Doors Down, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPU8OAjjS4k

Scars: Papa Roach http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHbNU9WuVgw]

But does it matter? You can decide. You’ll make choices you’ll regret, but you’ll learn.

Each and every step, every boy you kiss, and every time your heart breaks, you see.

It will only lead you into becoming a stronger woman that others will never understand.

This may seem like gibberish now, but bear with me, for only time can tell.

You’ll make mistakes, to be sure. You’ll hurt in ways I can’t explain, but you’ll persevere.

No matter what comes your way – and trust me, it’ll come – you will be able to stand your own.

[Listen to: This I Promise You: N’Sync, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6thmPrTxBtI 

You’ve Got a Friend In Me: Randy Newman http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zB2gPZRsz0Q]

humidity. sweltering.

Memo to Katy Perry: It's definitely hot enough to melt a solid block of ice. Forget that pesky Popsicle already.

As you may have guessed, the weather in Maryville is once again my topic that I have found blog-worthy. Normally, you're taught to only talk about the weather if there is nothing else to talk about. However, I feel challenged by every blistering ray of sunlight that makes my skin adopt a red tint. The sparse clouds in the sky show no mercy from the sun, much as the wintry weather of Maryville shows no mercy. The readjustment from Arctic Circle to Equator has taken place now that it is officially summertime according to the calendar.

Of course, with the sunny and gorgeous-looking days [never judge a book by its cover!] comes the trek of hundreds to attend SOAR daily. As a glutton for punishment, I work for Campus Dining and have said yes to several days of working catering for these events. You cannot begin to imagine how much work is involved in a single day of SOAR from the food side of things.

My feet hate me. Between all of the walking involved with a conference and working catering, my feet are covering in blisters and scars and all sorts of non-festering wounds. I would get around to re-doing my pedicure, but I just don't see the point given that the rest of my feet look quite horrific.

A Brief Synopsis

One thought continues to run through my mind. 

"We are legit."

It scares me a bit. 

I wonder what it is I should be doing.

I think that I've got a good grasp on it.

I strain against the dark of the unknown. 

Knowing I'm not alone,

Despite feeling otherwise, 

Creates a unique sense of challenge.

I want to be in complete control.

I don't want to have to jump in 

and have to deal with the consequences

and choices of others.

I struggle to maintain a sense of self

A sense of belonging, 

plus the confidence that I can

do all that I have before me and more.

The endless summer sun

makes me believe

that as long as I stay positive

that no matter what happens

I can continue to roll with the punches

and smile through the tears. 

I can make any thought I have reality.

Together we can make this happen.

However, you need to open up. 

It's difficult to understand what direction

you want me to take 

when you only speak 

to contradict.

I love you dearly

and have grown with you

for the past few years. 

However, despite the public perception

you've pushed me further away

distanced yourself even more

and refrained from explanation. 

Plague #5: Rejection in Form Letters and Applying for Unemployment

Date: [be sure to date a week late, since promptness is our middle name, and you 

know the intern who is Bob's son forgets to drop off the mail at least twice a week]

Dear ____________ [insert failure at existence here, since they can't even get a job flipping burgers.]
   After careful consideration [okay, about 30 seconds] of your application [you know, the epic you wrote us about your life, complete with every personal detail needed to steal your identity in case our business goes under], we [although these letters only have one signature?] have decided to hire another applicant. [Fantastic. Glad to know I wasted time and money.] We will keep your application on file for ## of days/weeks/months [You mean, wait for Bob's son the intern to shred it whenever he gets his head out of his ass.] and will be in contact with you [We've already forgotten your name] in case of any openings that may occur [and you have our full permission to begin to pity them at your earliest convenience.].
    Once again, thank you for your interest [ha! You just want a paycheck, sucker!] in our company.
 '
Sincerely,
[I'm too lazy to sign my name. Stamp it, Bob's son the Intern.]
[Some officer or executive, or at least a manager]

*******************************************
Obviously, by this point, you can tell that I've been racking up quite the collection of job rejection letters. This doesn't take into account the folks who are kind enough to make a call or send an email rather than making you wait the week or so for the letter to make it your way assuming that they are prompt in making a decision.

Whoever writes these form letters should be fired, and then they should hire me. I mean, between jobs and relationships, I've definitely got a resume filled with rejection.
********************************************
Applying for unemployment is quite the interesting process. I love how very very specific the questions are, and then how very stingy the state of Missouri happens to be. I spent 2 hours on the phone with a "claims adjustment specialist" because they couldn't understand how I was making a living on my job that I have during the school year. I thought it was a pretty good question myself...but then I thought of student loans.

I advise having a LOT of patience, enjoying craptastic hold music, and a lot of comfort food nearby to make it through the process. Just thinking about it makes me want to start baking up a storm...            
*********************************************
I wonder how many trees have been killed in denying employment to Americans...just think, it's probably enough to forest over the entire state of Minnesota. It could be Timber Stadium instead of Target Stadium. ;) Just kidding! but seriously, Kansas and Nebraska could use a few trees...                                                                  

Plague #4: Hair

Yes. I'm going there. From that annoying single dark hair that seems to think it's perfectly at home growing on your chin, to the infuriating mass of hair atop your head [if you have any], hair frustrates all of us. We straighten, curl, scrunch, spray, condition, brush, pin, yank, twist, and do everything imaginable just in hopes of attaining an unrealistic hairstyle.

No, I'm not talking about the other hair on your body. It's not my business what your legs/armpits/whatever else you choose to shave looks like, and I don't want to know. This is [for once] going to be a PG post, rather than the typical obscenity-filled rant about whatever it is that I feel the need to write about. Therefore, we're going to stick to the hair on your head, meaning your eyebrows yes, mustache/beard [yes - male, no - female], and whatever length of hair it is you have in your scalp.

• Eyebrows: Unibrows are NOT and will NEVER be attractive. Buy a tweezers, wax, something! Also, if your eyebrows look like a potential forest fire in the making from lack of upkeep, that's a problem. Some people do look good with bushier eyebrows [typically guys, although some girls can rock it], but for the majority of us, it's a look we should avoid, because it looks like your face has been invaded by a couple of furry caterpillars. Define 'upkeep' however you choose - just make sure it's more frequently than once a season.
• Nose hair. Trim that shit. Okay, so this just went downhill, but nothing will gross me out faster than dark hairs sticking out from your nostrils.For the guys out there, it is NOT acceptable for these hairs to just 'merge' themselves into your mustache.
• That random chin hair [on a female] - I'm a victim of this just as much as the next lady, but you know, leave it to a young child who can get away with saying something ridiculous in public to point out that there is a really really LONG hair coming out from your chin. Pluck it and keep an eye out...those suckers keep coming back to embarrass you at the most inconvenient times. 
• Beards [on females] are just wrong, unless you're in the circus and completely content with your life.
• Beards [on males] can take on a plethora of forms...all I ask is that you maintain whatever facial hair festival you are willing to parade around with on your face. You take care of your beard, your partner will know that you will take care of them as well. 
• Mustaches [on females] happen. Bleach it, shave it, whatever. Just take care of it somehow, unless, once again, you are in the circus and completely content with your life.
• Mustaches [on males] can take on a lot of different forms. Personally, I think these are hit-and-miss. Some people look right with a mustache, others should probably go find their razor. Also, mustaches can be overdone, and this can create issues because then your partner wonders if you're more concerned about your facial hair than about their well-being.
• Scalp hair [on males] varies from the shaved head, the buzz cut, the spiky look, the "I just got electrocuted" look, the long and shaggy look, the "my hair is longer than most females" to the "I just roll out of bed and don't own a brush" look. Whatever it is, ask someone in your life who you trust with fashion advice and see what their thoughts are. For all of the fashionistas out there - save a male with bad hair. In some drastic cases, you might just host a scavenger hunt to see what you're going to find.
• Scalp hair [on females]...where to begin?! It seems that no matter what our own hair is like, we're always longing for our hair to do something else, to look like someone else's, or to simply cooperate. On the very rare day it does cooperate, the weather decides to play tricks and ruin that small success. Once again, maintenance is key. If you're going to fry your hair by straightening it daily, then make sure you're conditioning. Want the perfect curly hair? Make sure you comb it so it's not one mass eating the rest of your face. 
• My last point is in terms of era: Please, please, PLEASE leave the bad hair days of the 1980s behind. Some of you have moms [or are those moms] who think that they are hip because their hair 'feathered perfectly' or they managed the puffball of bangs look which was just FINE prior to combing the shit out of it.

Okay, so this is just the surface of my thoughts on this plague against society. For those of you asking, right now my hair is down, curling in at the ends, and being very cooperative. I sense a nice downpour in the near future...or at least another epic case of Maryville wind tunnels to wreak havoc. 

Sidewalks: avoid them.

Today, as with nearly every other time I trek the few blocks to campus, I walked. It's always a nice walk, and sometimes the weather even cooperates and makes me feel like it's going to be a great day. Today was one of those days. The sun was shining, birds were singing [well, except the one I stepped over], I could hear someone whistling, and the folks who always have the most interesting conversations talked about what they would be grilling tonight. Today they threw a kink in my eavesdropping and talked entirely in French!

Regardless, I was walking along on the sidewalk because it was muddy everywhere else, and there was a cute little sparrow in the middle of the sidewalk just chirping and singing and being all kinds of cheerful. Awesome, right? I didn't realize this cute little birdie was singing so adamantly in the middle of the sidewalk for a reason: to warn me of the danger ahead.

As I walked past that plucky little sparrow, who proceeded to hop after me and continue singing away in an even shriller tone, the bushes to my right began to tremble. I didn't think anything of this...I mean, it's Maryville. The wind is constantly blowing, so limbs are typically swaying. I should have caught on to the fact that the wind was NOT blowing for a strange change of pace.

Out pops this strange black cat that looks pissed off because I interrupted its hunt for breakfast. I saved that little sparrow, but wasn't in time for its pal. This cat decides to go psycho on my ankle/foot, but fortunately only scratched me and then ran off quickly. Regardless, I still went and made sure that I didn't pick up rabies from the angriest black cat I've ever seen...and considering how many cats my grandma had, that's saying something.

The moral of this strange story is to avoid sidewalks when the sparrow tells you to do so. Never doubt the shrill song and its unwillingness to move. They do look out for you, whether you think it or not.

Most uttered words in Maryville: "Let's go to Wal-Mart!"

Setting: Maryville...quite possibly just like every other college town in that most students are GONE. Those that remain typically fall into one of the three generalizations below, feel free to rant if you're offended:

• Professional drinkers. These fine folks still need to work a bit on hiding their amazing drinking abilities/dependency on alcohol from Mommy and Daddy, so they are being "responsible" and working throughout the summer on some summer classes. *wave bullshit flag here* Realistically, these are the people who bring in the water bottle with 'flavored water' to your class.
• Legitimately studious people. These are the people who have ink on their noses, are concerned that their 99.9% isn't good enough, and wouldn't dream of being less than 30 minutes early to class. Once you manage to get them away from their books, they are pretty entertaining folks...
• Everyone else. They mix their studying and their fun, often with passing results. They aren't complaining.

Now that we've developed our setting, it's time to insert the weather. In case you are unaware, Maryville attracts only the undesirable whenever you realize that you're out of food, need to replenish your alcohol supply in your apartment, want to go out to the lake, etc. Last night, for example, it POURED and HAILED in what can only be referred to as the Monsoon of Maryville. I would tell you whether or not anyone drowned, but I was busy enough trying to stay afloat myself that I'm not too sure of anything [might also have something to do with the hail that hit me in the head]. Baseball-sized hail is not cool. 

Of course, this is when I am actually watching one of the very few shows I do watch. Glee was interrupted at least 40 gazillion times by weather updates and alerts, so I basically got to see someone's face on screen, and then had to pray that the alerts would land during the commercials. No such luck. I'll be re-watching later. 

As soon as the clock struck 9, we [yes, I have friends.] decided to go to Wal-Mart. We probably should have looked a bit more closely out the window first. By the time we made it from the door to my friend's car about 20 feet away tops [which was parked much much closer than mine], we were soaked to the skin.I was secretly pretty thankful that I was not the one driving, and it was quite creepy to realize that half of the town was without power, including Wal-Mart. As the dry vessel containing the two of us proceeded to turn around and go to Hy-Vee we looked around to realize just how close Hy-Vee was to also not having power. Luckily had power and everything she needed. 

By the time we had shivered our way through the exceptionally chilly Hy-Vee and my feet developed blisters from my flip-flops, we went back out into the swimming pool of Maryville.Small limbs and some massive hailstones were splayed throughout the town, and we shook our heads over the whole reason for this particular trip to Wal-Mart/Hy-Vee:

ONE GREEN PEPPER...and I hate peppers.

Of course, after all of these adventures, I still had to walk to my car, which I had parked hella far away and it had been sunny and 85 when I did so. Now it was about 11pm, and I fell 3 times on my way. Not because I am clumsy [which I am], but because of the very deceiving puddles with slick bottoms. I have a very lovely knot on top of scars on my right knee. I want to get an "out of service" sign to put there...because it hurts like crazy. The walk and drive proved fairly uneventual besides my horrible slip-n-slide abilities, and I was thankful to change out of those wet/freeze dried/wet clothes.

I think I hate green peppers even more. 

Plague #3: Intexicated Drivers spurred on by Textual Satisfaction

Sadly, I even fall under this plague upon society, but I promise that I reforming. Life would be so much simpler if I had a DT [designated texter] with me at all times while I drove. In case you haven't heard the term or guessed, intexicated drivers are those who text and drive, often with little regard to their surroundings.


While I should not defend such behavior, as it is dangerous, I do want to point out that there are drastic differences in the types of roads that a person could be driving on: from the 234982347 lane interstates that seem to never be quick and simple to drive through around massive cities to the one lane dirt roads that begin to restore your faith in humanity and you think it's a miracle to have reception on with your phone to begin with.


I have found that I personally am far less likely to speed while texting and driving, and seeing as I don't have cruise control, that's quite the feat. I don't type away on my full keyboard while I'm surrounded by traffic in the mass and panic of a city. Red lights - acceptable. You're at a complete stop and not going anywhere for a while. While passing someone - NOT acceptable. While alone with no one for miles around - acceptable, but you better be able to type without looking at the keys. Otherwise, get that phone out of your hands.


I was recently reading the Springfield News-Leader [which was free when I purchased another tank full of gas - woot, I might as well kill trees AND the air we breathe in one stop, thank you Kum & Go] and the Opinion section was about this topic. While they weren't quite sophisticated enough to refer to "intexicated drivers" by their proper name, they DID provide me with one very comical fact that makes me question why such a law was made in the first place: 28 people have been ticketed or fined for this offense in the slightly more than 2 years it has been a law. That's slightly more than 1 person a month, for a state boasting a population that is just about to hit 6 million. RIDICULOUS. Additionally, the largest-growing group in the population is the Baby Boomer generation, not the teens and young adults targeted unfairly by this law. Would it make just as much sense if the law was only applied to another age group, say the "30-36 year-old age bracket"? Absolutely not. They would be throwing the same pissy fit that you're seeing teens throw [only, not as well-rehearsed and full of youthful energy] and then defy the law anyway. Knowing this, it seems ridiculous that a law can be selectively enforced based upon age and generalizations such as "less experience driving". Let's give that wacko soccer mom with her umpteen kids in tow a phone to manage on top of the madness of the minivan she's surely driving as fast as possible in order to minimize how much time she spends with those children in the cooped up space. Great idea.


The current law includes the ability to fine a driver up to $200 and to also put the offense on the driver's record. Based upon the statistics above, the state of Missouri had netted $5,600. Given our current economic situation, and how much it costs to keep a patrol car on the roads, are we really using our money/time/resources wisely? Of course not. If people want to text and drive, let them. It's an adult choice, much like driving somewhere, and if you don't want teens to text and drive, perhaps you should reconsider the current driving formula and how old someone has to be prior to obtaining a driver's license. I suggest this solution simply because I'm older. ;)

Plague #2 Upon Society: Tramp Stamps

Before I begin, I want to make it very very clear that I am not going to judge you if you have one and manage to TASTEFULLY show it in situations where your back is uncovered [say, while wearing a bikini or swimsuit suited to your figure, which may show that area of your body]. I am going to be disgusted if you are the person who purposely leans forward whenever possible or squats down for your shirt to ride up or your pants to show some crack in order to "impress" with your "badass tattoo" that serves solely to make you look like a dumbass.

"Going to the lake" is always an experience, regardless of who you go with and when you go. From ice skating in winter, to the sudden influx of "Skankapolis", to the chill nights with bonfires, to even the random run/hike with some new scenery, everyone knows what it's like, or can at least identify with certain times of year. Right now, the beginning of "Skankapolis" has struck at every lake throughout the United States, and will continue until approximately mid-July when these special people realize that there are no major holidays to celebrate and the city aquatic center membership they bought on a whim expires in about a month. After this point, the lake is blissfully peaceful for those who truly do go out in the rural areas for the PEACE and QUIET of nature, not the drunken whorefests of the less mature who are most likely trying to escape the critical eye of society, but once again failing miserably. It seems the only thing they don't fail would be pregnancy tests. [Okay, that might have been harsh. The truth does hurt.]

Back to the tramp stamp: these wonderful ideas - generally consisting of either a butterfly, string of flowers, or some Chinese symbols that looked pretty cool while they were drunk - mark a female right around her waistline in the back. They are worse than seeing asscrack, in my opinion, because she WILLINGLY allowed and PAID for someone to 'permanently' mark her [Removal would be a wise choice...insert string of obscenities. You'll have to road trip with me to hear me at my finest.]. If nothing else, these should serve as a warning or better understanding of the past for any potential suitors. Nothing else could scream "I watch more MTV, drink more bitch beer, and dance on tables/chairs/any elevated surface more than any other *&%&$ alive" more clearly.

Unfortunately, many of these individuals fail to realize that these "additions" are far from attractive, and will go out of their way to show off and expect you to exclaim over how cool their excessively cliche ink is. Stop! If we simply ignore these horrifyingly disfiguring marks upon the human flesh, we will [hopefully] educate upcoming adult members of society that they are nothing more than a waste of time and an easy way of marking yourself as undesirable.

Note: I refrained from posting pictures of this since NO ONE who can access this blog is immune to the horrifying impact that tramp stamps have had on the population. I mean, I can only put so much scum on my blog before something awful happens.

douchebags: so laughably funny until you realize they don't know better.

As you can guess, this is an issue that is gripping America - and the rest of the world, I would assume, but cannot guarantee since I have not personally witnessed - and something needs to be done. The land of popped collars [please, do NOT wear multiple shirts with collars], flip-flops with the bottle opener in the bottom, nasty toenails [yes, I notice], and the hole-filled jeans that you bought that way rather than actually work and make them that way are enough to make every girl want to stab you with the nearest object that looks like it could cause damage.

Before we begin this story, it is important for us to make sure we have the same definition for "douchebag" in mind, so here is the official verdict from Urban Dictionary:

• someone who has surpassed the levels of jerk and asshole, however not yet reached fucker or motherfucker. Not to be confused with douche.
• An individual who has an over-inflated sense of self worth, compounded by a low level of intellegence, behaving ridiculously in front of colleagues with no sense of how moronic he appears.
• A person with a shitty personality that needs to "take themself the fuck down" or "go home and get their fucking shine box." A douchebag usually assumes the form of a hair-gelling pretty-boy but can also be described as an overzealous, pompous, or vexatious asshole that most people wish were killed with a Mortal Kombat fatality
• The term "douchbag" generally refers to a male with any number of characteristics not associated with one particular region or age demographic. Douchebag is a combination of attitude qualities, social ability, and attire.
      In terms of geography douchebags can be found nearly anywhere. For instance, douchebags can be seen in New Jersey where fake diamond earrings, frosted spiked hair, Razor phones, half a can of Axe, unbuttoned collared shirts, Fossil watches, overly groomed chinstraps, backwards colored Yankee hats with the sticker still attached and 2002 Mustangs are considered "tight." At the same time douchebags are also plentiful in the Southwest where on any given Wednesday night on frat row in Tempe you can find males who find it "sweet shit" to wear pink collared shirts, while donning the following attire: pukka-shelled necklaces, fake skater shoes, have some variation of an Asian symbol tattoo on their shoulder or back, wear a Hurley hat that sits cockeyed on their head, throw various fake gang signs during pictures and drive their dad's old white 1997 convertible M3 BMW. They also generally find the length of time one drinks while doing a "keg-stand" directly correlates with the amount of pussy one can get.
      As mentioned douchebags transcend not only various geographical locations, but age demographics as well. For instance, douchebags are quite often seen just south of Sarasota, FL as evidenced by 45 year old men who still wear Oakley's, shave their chests, wear shirts that read "ride" on the front and "me" on the back, and think its cool to wear white K-Swiss'. They are usually on first name basis with the girls at Hooters, and think white T-shirt contests with 1/2 half-off Margaritas are better than a baseball game with $1 beers. At the same time, we can see young 21 year old douchebags in West L.A. who still think that Dolce Gabana belt buckles, and fo-hawks are "pimp shit."
  
  In terms of behavior douchebags have an over-inflated sense of self worth, lack the social ability to interact with non-douchebags, and have tricked their minds into thinking that they "get mad pussy." The irony is that they very rarely get pussy, but amazingly have the amazing propensity to talk quite often about allegedly getting it. 

Obviously, I could continue endlessly with this fun. Urban Dictionary provides me with over 25 fun pages to define this one curse upon society alone.

The kicker: this particular douchebag was in our local Hy-Vee, which seems to cater to these creatures with pre-packaged "homemade" dinners. His purchases: a meatloaf dinner, and a GIANT box of condoms. Wow. Whoever is allowing this guy to put his penis in them needs to be shot on sight, because they have terrible taste. While I suppose this particular douchebag should be given kudos for buying the ultra-huge package of condoms, this only intensified my hatred for him as I began the cycle of an allergic reaction. There's a reason I avoid the "[oh shit I don't really want a] family planning" section of every store.

The only photo I was able to attempt to obtain sent my phone into a tizzy of hatred, and it immediately shut itself off. Smart phone. Since I can't provide an image of the dumbass who spent $9 on a meatloaf dinner alone, I took the liberty of finding a very well-defined image to assist you in spotting the douchebags in your life.

Please read, learn, and educate those around you so we can save society from these blemishes that occur. If you realize that you fall under these definitions, you can recover yourself and still be a productive and accepted member of society if you begin to change immediately and drastically.

To close: some more images that I found, and had to post. You understand; education is key.

the old me is dead and gone

In the past year, I have went through a great amount of change, and as a result, I am a completely different person with a different way of thinking. I may not reflect this immediately in how you perceive my actions [for those of you who have known me longer] but anyone who didn't know me seems to think automatically that I am a very assertive person.

I was that kid who sat in the corner and prayed no one would ever call on me. I cried at the smallest thing that went wrong, and hated anything less than perfection. I was that annoying kid who always knew the answer and had my hand waving in the air. You know, that kid that everyone else prays just shuts their mouth so the rest of the class can be dismissed or so that the topic can change, because no one else cares.

It is not that I don't care, just that I have become a very different type of learner in the past few years, as well as a different person when it comes to interactions. Getting away from where I went to high school was quite possibly one of the best choices in my life, as it forced me out of my shell and made me realize just how annoying people must have thought I was...sorry about that, if anyone who remembers me from those days happens to be reading this.

Three years ago, I was one of the most passive people you could ever meet. I'm still pretty indecisive a lot of the time, but experiences that I have had during my first three years here at Northwest have really helped me grow as an individual. Falling in love, having my heart broken, and the jagged healing is a key portion of this. A movie comes to mind where a man's heart was all sorts of jagged, while the other's was smooth...the man with the very strange, jagged heart was healthy and happy on the outside, with no medical concerns and looked fantastic. The other man, who you would think would have the healthier heart, was actually suffering from several disorders and was also suffering slowly from a breaking heart since there was nothing to keep it all together.

I like to think of it as a very interesting patchwork quilt, and I thank all of you for being some part of my quilt, because you make feel feel warm/fuzzy/important, and I appreciate it. :)

you know how sometimes you feel better after you vom? well, this is my attempt.

To tell you the truth, I am rediscovering love and happiness and all of the emotions that accompany that roller coaster. It is been a difficult six months, and knowing that a significant other has been absent in my life during some of my biggest changes and challenges has been a struggle. I have turned to friends and family to help mend a broken heart. Complications have occurred because I sensed that in my hour of need, I was being “abandoned” by those close to me as they pursued their own happiness and just assumed that I would be okay. I struggled to find a sense of acceptance, and I know that certain friends were definitely there for me to talk to me as I let other things go in order to heal myself, even though I was committed to ensuring that several projects and tasks were successfully completed.

Heading into finals week in the fall trimester as a newly single woman was interesting. Changing various financial aspects of my life, resetting all of my passwords, and striding into the world again as a truly independent unit in all senses was a bit scary. For the bulk of my college experience, I had a significant other who I had pledged to spend the rest of my life with as a married woman. I honestly had started to plan a wedding and we’d talked about all of the things a couple thinking about spending the rest of their lives together would talk about. The most demanding week of the year intellectually was also one that really stretched my emotional and psychological well-being as well, and I turned to a counselor because I was dealing with a lot of confusion and was afraid of slipping into a depression with all of the negative things that were becoming commonplace in my life.

The ending of the fall trimester became official with my dad coming to Maryville for the second-time ever to pick me up along with whatever it was I thought essential to take home for a month. My new van, Jack-Jack, was the man in my life. We bonded over gravel roads, some slick icy conditions, and a bit of a snowstorm, as well as a shopping spree [okay, I should mention that I am not the biggest fan of shopping 99.9% of the time] and a few other educational experiences made the holiday break quite interesting. Being surrounded by my family who is highly supportive of me and knew that I was struggling to maintain a calm and constructed attitude, my parents started to urge me to look for something to delve further into and become more involved – not as an effort for me to forget the past relationship, but rather to give me something new to get excited about. Their intentions were good, and I had been strongly considering bidding for a Regional Board of Directors position within MACURH. After reading the list of positions and their responsibilities to my mom, she immediately said that I should go for the recruitment and retention position. It was an interesting choice, because I was not sure that I was a strong enough candidate given the few shortcomings that I knew would be brought up in a boardroom situation, but she convinced me to push my concerns aside and let the region make the choice after watching me present the strong side of myself that she knew simply needed to come out from hibernation. In January, I packed everything back up within Jack-Jack [so much room! It honestly looked like I had nothing!] and drove the trek back to Northwest Missouri State determined to get the ball rolling on the bidding process and procuring institutional support. As with every time that I drive to Maryville, I drive directly past Independence, and I always struggle when I see the exit signs that are oh-so-familiar after several trips to see his family and several other experiences of getting lost within KC.

I eventually made it to Maryville as the snow really started coming down. The last 30 miles [as always, the longest part of the drive since you always really really have to pee and there is nowhere to stop that is not absolutely creepy] seemed to be never-ending as it was one-lane cleared and the fastest anyone was willing to go was 30mph. As I parked the van, I did not care whether or not I was in my lines…regardless, I could not see them anyway because of all of the snow on the ground. The bitter cold temperatures [yes, I went to school in the Arctic Circle] and the warnings playing over the radio to minimize the amount of time one spent outside due to extreme wind chills played through my head as Jack-Jack came to a rest in the smallest, most crowded parking lot possible prior to the return of everyone else to Northwest. I am pretty sure that this is what broke the spirit of Jack-Jack, for he never ran the same again. [Yes, I know. 1989 is NOT a new vehicle, and I should have expected a few problems. I just did not expect the epic level of problems that I had throughout the spring semester.]

As an honest person, I went immediately and purchased a parking permit even though the snow would not uncover my windshield until spring break and no one would have been any wiser as to whether or not a sticker was affixed to the lower passenger corner of my windshield. The wind chills of -45 did not stop my trek to the Administration Building to take care of this immediately, nor did it stop me from choosing to unload all of my belongings immediately upon return to Jack-Jack with his new Bearcat green bling. The last of his belongings were left in Jack-Jack, simply because I could not bear to look at them within my room. I tore down each and every reminder of him, completely rearranged my room again [since that was one of the last things we did together was move my room around] and threw away trash bags of items that held too strong of memories to keep around. I kept a few things, simply because you cannot just throw away one of the biggest mistakes of your life, but also because I still value them and know that I cannot cut myself off completely from the past.

I poured a lot of energy into school, work, and extracurricular activities. Building a bid suitable for presentation at a regional conference took up a lot of the time that I would have probably otherwise spent pining for the past or doing something else equally foolish. Making sure that my last trimester as RHA president was successful as well as encouraging individuals to run for the position also took up quite a chunk of time as I wanted to make sure that I left a positive lasting legacy for the next group of executive officers to adopt and adapt to their own goals, aspirations, and hopes for RHA. I picked up all sorts of shifts at work simply because I did not want to think about what else could have been done over the weekends – like going out to dinner, or cuddling up and watching a movie, or simply spending time together with a significant other. I clearly was not ready to spend time with anyone else, and I know that while it probably also was not the best choice to sequester myself, I needed to heal in my own time as an individual unit rather than by relying solely upon others to help me through the rough times. I grew nervous as I was running opposed for the position I was fortunately elected to, and began to get super-excited for the future.

However, other demands on my time were not about to go anywhere else anytime soon. RHA programming was picking up, tests/finals/papers/midterms/classwork/projects and everything else that could possibly be thrown at me did come my way as I was taking 18 credit hours during one of my busiest semesters thus far. I threw myself into several different projects and also crafted a campaign for the secretary position of a large student organization on campus which proved to be highly successful in bringing out the vote, questioning my level of personal integrity [I passed this test when I reported that my opponent who later did win the election by a narrow margin was not present on the initial ballot], helping students better understand their levels of representation and the abilities they have to get involved, and appointment to various cabinet positions within organizations on campus. Accomplishing all of my GPA goals for the semester was a huge sigh of relief, as I had truly been challenged and stretched to the breaking point with more projects and tasks than ever before added to a semester that featured all graduate level courses. From learning more about my views about various topics within human sexuality to expanding my knowledge of the nations of the Pacific, the spring trimester proved to challenge me. I struggled within some of my classes, but the important part is that I never gave up.

Jack-Jack left me over spring break as he lost the will to go on. He died approximately 5 miles outside of Maryville, and my mother proved her unwavering dedication to me with her 18-hour roundtrip expedition in her new car to come and get me for the week. Jack-Jack was towed back to campus by quite possibly the friendliest tow-truck driver ever, who gave me a rather steep discount considering just how awful of a day that I had and the obvious hysterics that I had pulled myself together from as I tried to keep calm and think positively about spending another 7-8 hours in Maryville. As my mom inched her way to Maryville and risked her life in the treacherous conditions, I had a rather interesting night consisting of chicken quesadillas, chocolate chip cookies that I baked for the trip home, cherry Kool-Aid, and a trip to Wal-Mart with 3 of the guys that I work with who live in Maryville. Jack-Jack sat in Maryville throughout the week until my dad hauled Ol’ Betsy [the Taurus] up to Maryville so I could swap with Jack-Jack. To my extreme frustration, my dad quickly and easily started Jack-Jack with very little effort [at least Jack-Jack ran long enough to be pulled on the trailer without using the winch so all I had to do was sit in the truck and hold the brakes]. My dad then turned to drive the six hours home with Jack-Jack in tow as I adjusted to life in Maryville with a car. I love Ol’ Betsy dearly and truly do feel at home now as I have driven back and forth a few times as well as around Maryville quite a bit.

The weeks after spring break are short, go quick, and often feel as though they do not exist as finals spring upon students who are generally underprepared and think that cramming is going to help them out enough to maintain or improve their grades. I spent the bulk of spring break working on paper and projects since I am very aware that April is a month that has absolutely no free time with all of the activities that occur in order for school to conclude by the start of May. Between elections, transitional retreat, transitioning out of the position of RHA president which I held officially for two years, programming with RHA exec for the highly successful Block Party and our annual banquet, making sure that I had everything completed, and of course all of the academic requirements that occur within courses that demand more since they are built for graduate students slammed me at a time in which I was trying to make sure that I had my summer living situation all planned out. The various stressors and struggles that take place at the end of the year to most college students definitely gave me a new direction to focus my thoughts and actions.

By the time that summer came around, I was given quite a bit of free time since I have not had any success in finding a summer job to keep me busy and create an income despite applying nearly everywhere and having several interviews that made it deep into the employment process. On the bright side, I have passed each and every single drug test that I have been subjected to as a result of interviewing with various companies and corporations. Looking forward to various things has helped make life a bit better. Knowing that I am going to be reunited with the coolest people in the nation [especially those within MACURH] for a week has helped to make everything a bit better, and I know that counting down until my 21st birthday [which also coincidentally marks the end of summer vacation] has made life interesting. I started to allow myself to start to think about things, what I am truly looking for in the future, and just how much I have grown as a woman.

Without the support of some very understanding friends, some of whom do not realize that I simply needed to talk to them in order to feel accepted and appreciated for my efforts but still did all that they could to be positive influences. Apparently I did a great job of not plastering my feelings and relationship history out there where the rest of the world could freely see and gossip about what was going on, and there are those who are still unaware of anything that has occurred within the last year of my life. The lines from the ring that I proudly wore for over a year are finally starting to disappear, although I know that the invisible weight of it still makes me feel a bit uncomfortable at times.

The morals and beliefs that I have had throughout my life have helped shape me into the responsible young woman that I am today. No one lives a life without struggles, but I tend to place my heart out there on the line to be mangled and destroyed by others far too easily, and I feel that I might have retracted myself too far from society and being able to develop bonds without worrying about the possible bad consequences, since those are out of my control unless I choose to make poor decisions, which is unlikely the majority of the time. I struggled to commit portions of this to text, because it felt a bit ridiculous to bring up the past, but without a proper understanding of the past, I cannot work to build a strong future for myself, which is something I need with all of the great opportunities to really help build a strong foundation for new opportunities. Rebuilding with a positive attitude has been a huge help. The strong friendships that have grown throughout this trimester since I have been able to dedicate more time to friends have proven to mean quite a bit to me, although I am realizing that very few of my friendships are with females. Am I condemned to a lifetime of being the friend? I am just rediscovering love, and recently had the confidence to be straightforward with the boy that has consumed my thoughts throughout the past few months. Let us just sit back and see where this roller coaster of a heart that I seem to have takes me next – I can promise you one thing, and that would be that the ride is never smooth when it comes to matters of the heart, and I do not think I would want to have it any other way given how much I have grown as a person over the past six months.

The potential of getting lost scares me more than talking to a random clerk in a questionable gas station.

Just think about it.





Such a strong phrase.




You know, try it sometime.




You might like it.



Your noggin will thank you.
[as will I.]

Happiness

The bruises and scratches serve to define experiences that are unforgettable. Each imperfection has a story, each scar a painful reminder that life will never be quite the same. Sometimes it's difficult, because everyone else doesn't understand why one would be upset over the imperfections. I used to be very upset whenever I scarred or bruised and would do everything in my power to cover it up until it disappeared. However, I realized this was shallow some time ago.

Whenever one is bruised up by life on the outside, the key is that the growth to repair will come from within. I don't take people quite as seriously as I used to when they talked about physical appearances, although let's face it, I do want to be able to see you've heard of personal hygiene. I truly and honestly care more about your personality.

Let's take a break and define a few key words here. I want to make sure we're all on the same page.
*experience - The wisdom that enables us to recognize an undesirable old acquaintance the folly that we have already embraced. [The Devil's Dictionary, Ambrose Bierce]
*shallow - A person who cannot access the imaginative, creative, understanding, emotional part of their brain. Shallow people are brainwashed by the media, they can't think for themselves. They tend to like Hilary Duff, Britney Spears, and mainstream rap and the little mainstream rock that is played. They serve no purpose to this earth. Their future holds long lines of angry customers that want their hamburger, and the words "we love to see you smile". [www.urbandictionary.com]
*hygiene - The main factor in how close people are willing to stand next to you in any given situation. [www.urbandictionary.com]
*personality - how you act how you think how you look how you feel basically its you inside and out........ [www.urbandicionary.com...okay, so they approved THIS but not the fantastic definition for Phase 10?!?!]

Okay, now that everyone realizes what I'm trying to refer to here, let's move on from the boring stuff. People don't know what they want or what's going to happen tomorrow or even five minutes from now. All we know is that we've got to find a reason to live through each and every day, some sort of purpose.

My friends are in different relationship stages. Some, like myself, are single. Others are dating [happily or not, figure that part out for yourself]. Others are engaged or getting married. Some are married and have a whole happy family to come home to each and every night. Does it seem a bit unfair sometimes? Yes. However, I'm not ready for a family. I'm not even sure I'm ready to commit to another person. Being single does have its perks, yes. Being in a relationship also has its perks.

Much of my college career thus far was spent dating one person. We thought we were in love, we had it all, blah blah blah. However, we grew apart and fortunately realized it before things got any more complicated and have since split. It's been a difficult healing period, since he was there for me through so many of my first steps as an adult away from my family, and I his.

Happiness isn't whether or not you're dating someone. It's not even if your outfit looks great, or if your television show is on tonight. Happiness is the feeling you have when you feel like you've got too much energy to contain, that you can't manage to stay still, and that despite the challenges and controversy that are sure to come your way, you end each day knowing that the next will be fantastic.

So...ask yourselves: are you happy? Do you have a sense of purpose for each and every day, no matter how small or unimportant it may seem? Don't compare what you do with others, for they have their own purposes and reasons behind their actions. Think about what your goals are, and also how you reward yourself for each and every bit of progress along the way. Sometimes, it's difficult for us to accept that we need to be our own biggest cheerleader, and let those friends who want to make a positive impact have their say. Let them cheer you on and be supportive.

Find a song that just makes you sing the lyrics out loud. Preferably something happy, but whatever works for you. Find whatever it is that gets you motivated, and stick with it. Everyone has something great to bring to this world.