The Life That Is Mine

While waiting to be called from my dentist's waiting room this afternoon, I began flipping through a 'People' magazine that was sitting on top of a stack of celebrity gossip-type magazines that chaotically covered the table. The particular issue that I picked up was one featuring a large section on 'The Most Beautiful People in the World'. I began to quickly thumb through the pictures...women beautifully and elaborately made up, not a hair out of place, seductively posed, not an unflattering inch on their bodies... men with their shirts unbuttoned...sometimes without a shirt at all...showing off their perfectly defined muscle as they posed in front of the most beautiful backdrops.

It was not, however, any of these "perfect" pictures that abruptly stopped me from continuing through the magazine. Instead, it was a short quote. The quote was next to a picture of a makeup-less and un-touched up Drew Barrymore. It read "Happy People are Beautiful".

I was intrigued and proceeded to read through the entire interview/story. After thinking about this simple statement...I could not agree more. People who exude happiness, warmth and comfort...those are the people in my life who I consider to be most beautiful. There is something about a genuine, inner-beauty that no makeup, photographer or digital computer can recreate.

Too often we get caught up in what others consider 'beautiful'...what the media tells us is "in". Too often we waste time and energy comparing ourselves to others...what they have...what we don't have...etc. etc. etc. If only we put that time and energy into living...enjoying life...loving others...and appreciating our unique selves...I can't even imagine the happiness that would follow.

Happy people really are beautiful and that beauty comes from somewhere within. It is a beauty that can actually be felt by those in its presence. It is so deep, so real...so warm. It is contagious...much like a smile...which brings me to another thought. People just don't smile enough. It is such a simple and effortless gesture...yet it can brighten or even change someone's entire day. It can help one find that beauty, that happiness within. One smile almost always begins a chain of smiles that proceeds to travel farther than we'll ever know. After leaving my dentist's office, I had to run quite a few errands on my way home and I decided to do a little "experiment".
Each time my glance met that of another person, whether it be in the checkout line at CVS...or waiting at that red light that seems to last forever...I smiled. That's it...I just smiled. I must have smiled at a total of about 50 people...all ages, genders, shapes and sizes...and every single person immediately smiled back. Without thought or hesitation, my smile was consistently answered with another...and I couldn't help but feel a little bit happier at the sight of each one. It may sound corny...but it truly is quite a phenomenon. Smiling is universal. It does not matter your race, sex, ethnicity, gender, weight, religion, etc....smiling ignites that happiness and the beauty of that happiness within all of us.

If you think I'm crazy...just try it. Just smile...find that inner happiness...that inner beauty... and share it with the world through your smile. See what happens. I'd be willing to bet that after doing so...you too will believe that Happy People are Beautiful.

She lies awake...awake and unsure.
Her heart is unsure...is it beating with excitement or fear...on the verge of healing or breaking?
Her hands are unsure...will they again join with his...or remain empty?
Her lips are unsure...should they part as they form a warm smile across her face...or should they remain tightly closed and tremble until they taste her salty tears?
Her eyes are unsure...will they again look deeply into his...or should they look the other way?
Her tears are unsure...should they spill onto her cheeks that they know so well...or should they wait until it is joy that releases them.
She is unsure. Should she run...continue to build up her walls? Or should she believe...and bravely let them down?
She is scared...she is unsure.

He makes her happy. He makes her smile. He makes her laugh.
He makes her hope. He makes her want. He makes her believe.
She smiles...laughs...hopes...and wants...unsure yet if she really should believe. But he makes her happy and he makes her smile...and maybe...just maybe...he'll make her believe.

She is so tired. She is tired of the overwhelming sadness that can overtake her body in a single moment...she is tired of the insecurities that nag at her relentlessly...she is tired of being tired. She is tired of the questions...that can not be answered. She is tired of the problems...that can not be solved. Her mind and body feel depleted of the energy she once had...the happiness that once filled her. She is tired of fighting...tired of struggling...tired of hoping...she is so tired. She wants to want to beat it....but she is too tired. She does not want to give up...but she is so tired...so tired.

Physical pain is something that we all know to various degrees. It is something that is often visible to others...something that the outside world can immediately see...and maybe even slightly understand.
There are other types of pain however, that can go, for the most part, undetectable...unnoticed by others. There is a pain that is so intense and yet remains hidden. It is this type of pain that slowly destructs an individual...a pain that does not heal with time but rather intensifies with each passing day. It is a pain that does not have an instantly effective remedy...it is not a pain that is easy to discuss...often completely indescribable. It is frustrating...agononizing...often feeling hopeless to cure.
She is in pain. It is a pain that slowly depletes her from all optimism...all energy...all care...eventually making her wish only to disappear from existence. It is a pain that others assure will pass...yet it continues to cripple her. She is in pain. You can not see it. You can not understand it...but she is in pain...excruciating pain.

A lost little girl...
There is a lost little girl...her life is a beautiful garden, blessed with the most beautiful of flowers and the most luscious of fruit. But her garden has been slowly overtaken. Weeds are destroying that garden while masking its beauty, promise, and depth. It is time now to begin plucking those weeds. It will be a lot of work, a very tedious and time consuming task. She must slowly pull at each weed that ruins her lush, flourishing garden. She must remember not to rush it or haphazardly try to do too much at once. She must rather make sure that each weed that she attacks is removed along with its entire root so as not to return again.
She must find the strength to refuse to give up, for at times it will feel impossible to uncover what used to be such a vast array of colors and stories, and smiles. She will doubt at times that the garden she once knew still remains under these wild, menacing plants - but she knows its there. She must remember that it is there. And when she has those doubts, she must look at those strongest most beautiful of the flowers...those that have grown right thru the weeds...never leaving her sight...never allowing her to believe that there is not hope and life underneath. When she must cry, when she thinks it's too difficult a task to complete...those strong remaining flowers will make her smile...and silently convince her to push on.
She will find her way...she will pick the areas of the garden most important, and most overtaken by the weeds...and she will have to start there. Slowly but surely chipping away at the biggest project of her life. The reward will be too great for words. She will get back her beautiful garden. She will rid her life of the weeds.
That lost little girl...is going to find her way. She is tired of wandering lost...and pretending its all okay. This little girl is going to find her beautiful garden....she just thanks God that he has given her those flowers that persist thru the rubbish, that refuse to stay hidden, that will show her every day that the beautiful life she knew does still exist...and not to give up. No weeds can destroy those flowers. They will only give her hope and strength to uncover the rest.
That lost little girl...is about to take a seat among the weeds....and begin to pick.....pick, pick, pick, dig, dig, dig. All the while letting the surrounding flowers catch her tears in their petals. That lost little girl...is going to find her way

This past Sunday my friend Pleasant took me to a comedy show at the Improv. I have been to these before but this time, for the first time, I knew of and loved the comedian who was headlining. D.L. Hughley. I have always been a fan but after the show - I officially love him. He was hysterical and brilliant as he improvised a good portion of the show using people in the audience. Leaving the Improv, I realized just how important laughter is. I had had a crummy-ish week and the non-stop, cheek hurting laughter during the 2 hours show improved my mental, emotional and physical feeling. Still smiling and remembering the jokes that he made...taking turns recalling the best ones with Pleasant...and pathetically attempting to repeat them...I didn't even notice the bitter cold, snowy walk back to the car. (except for when I tripped/slid and almost bit it)
Sometimes we need to take a minute to put our worries on the back burner and enjoy life...laugh...laugh so hard that you cry...laugh so hard that your cheeks are numb the rest of the night...laugh so hard that your ribs are literally sore the next day. Laughter truly is the best medicine. I thank D.L. Hughley for bringing a dose of uncontrollable laughter into my life on Sunday and for allowing me to begin my week with a breath of fresh air.

As usual...a zillion random thoughts and over-contemplations of those thoughts ran through my mind today. At one point, upon thinking about some current situations in my life, a quote that I have heard many times popped into my head. It is short and simple and yet prefectly brilliant.
"Never allow someone to be your priority, while allowing yourself to be their option."

I think this quote is great...so obvious...yet something too many of us do not follow. It is something that I have not exactly followed throughout my life...often making certain people a priority in my life...while I allowed myself to be simply an option. Doing so only sets one up for disappointment...sadness...hurt...heartache. So, why do we continue to allow it? It is a confusing occurence...one that I will come back to soon...

I realized today that nothing makes me nauseous faster or more intensely that being confined to a small space with a man who wears too much cologne. Leaving work, I was riding the elevator from the 13th to 1st floor. The elevator stopped on the 11th floor where the men's locker room is located. A young man who I had seen earlier working out stepped into the elevator with a smile and now wearing a black suit and sky blue tie. I smiled back...then attempted to hide the gag reflex that my body produced the instant that those doors shut. It smelled as if someone had dumped out the bottle into the tiny room...and you could tell it was not a particularly nice smelling cologne to begin with...rather one that, upon smelling just a spray or two, might burn your nose...cause you to crinkle the patch of skin between your eyebrows...but the excess that this man had applied was simply nauseating. I think he honestly smelled better when he had been sweating in the gym about an hour earlier. My recommendation as far as cologne and perfumes...less is better...don't spray enough to gag your fellow elevator passengers.

As I mentioned in my previous blog, I spent this past weekend cleaning out my room. I came across many memories, one of which was the video tape of my skydiving adventure in Hawaii.
While I was in Honolulu for school, I had the opportunity to skydive twice. The second time was a birthday present from the rents and so they also allowed me to purchase the overpriced video that they offer. Overpriced? yes. Worth it? yes. I popped in the 8 minute video immediately after I stumbled upon it and instantly longed to be back up in that sky...over that ocean...looking at those mountains. There is something amazing about the peace and the freedom of floating among the clouds.
The initial jump was an absolute rush...6 forward flips out of the plane...and then a 1-minute freefall through the sky...the wind so loud and so powerfull as the air allows you to aggressively pass through. Then, boom...stillness and silence. The parachute opens and you are floating. It was the closest I have ever come to complete silence...complete peace...un-disturbable by anyone else...or any of life's daily stressors.
It is ironic in that I consider those moments to be the moments in which I felt the safest...falling from the sky...jumping out of a perfectly good plane...trusting a parachute to gently place me back on earth after beginning the journey from miles up above. Yet, I felt safe. No one could hurt me...no one could intrude into my space...nothing could touch me. There was a freedom up there that was so surreal...a beauty that could not be illustrated...a feeling that can not be reinvented with both feet on the ground.
Skydiving was an amazing experience...one that I will never forget...and one that I hope to enjoy many more times in the future.

Over the weekend, I spent countless hours cleaning out my room and closet which had previously looked as if a tornado had passed through. I finally parted with some of the junk that I save for no reason, organized everything from shelves to drawers to my bed...and dusted every nook and cranny that I could get my hands on. It was a tiring task...hours and hours...but I also found a great deal of pleasure during and after my cleaning process.
Afterwards, my room seemed so much brighter as you could see the pink carpet, yellow walls, and beautiful dolphin blanket that covers my bed. It smelled fresh and clean with a tropical, coconut aroma. It was fascinating how uncluttering my room and my environment so hugely uncluttered my mind as well. When I walked in my room for the first time after it was clean, I felt refreshed...my mind clear...well at least more clear than usual. The project that I had accomplished felt great and left me with an optimistic attitude towards the start of a new school semester this week.
This post-cleaning pleasure is quite understandable to most people I think. However, it was not afterwards that generated the happiest feelings. It was during. How? It was simple. My room overflows with amazing memories. Every picture frame, dolphin or frog figurine, every trinket that I had to pick up in order to dust my shelves flooded my mind with happy memories. It reminded me how blessed I am with my family and friends...and how full my life has been despite some setbacks...and I am only 23. The experiences that I have had, the relationships I have established, and the love that fills my life is overwhelming.
Each picture brought back vivid memories of happy times from childhood to present. At every dusty shelf, I was greeted with loving family and friends...pictures...gifts...so many different and random things...things that can not be described by anything that I write, but can only be felt in my heart.
There are so many things around my room as well...so many that often when friends or family pass through, they are captivated and spend quite some time perusing all that I have on display...they are always smiling as they do this...asking questions...complimenting or expressing their interest in this or that...unknowingly reminding me of how truly blessed I am. Although I am surrounded by all of these things daily, I often do not take the time to study each of them...to open my mind to the positive things in my life...the friendships...the family...the love...the memories...the accomplishments. There is so much positive...yet I tend to focus on the negative at times...it's something I need to work on. I may not have a lot of money...well any money really...but I could not ask for more out of life than the things of which I was reminded this weekend.
I think that I will be cleaning my room on a very regular basis in the future :-)

This past New Year's Eve, something quick, silly and minor happened that became an analogy in my head to explain the way that I and many others often live life.
A group of us were on our way from the closing bar to Panini's...for 2 reasons: 1. they are open later than any other bar nearby 2. There is nothing better than a Panini's sandwich and/or pizza to wrap up a night of heavy drinking.
As we walked down the street, I was expressing the fact that I was famished, starving and that my stomach was "eating itself"...all of which were obviously overdramatic statements. Well, I tend to be a loud person even without a night of liquor under my belt, and a kind young guy heard my cries for food. He walked over to introduce himself with a half-eaten piece of mouth-watering pizza in one hand...and a glorious looking, untouched piece on the greasy plate that occupied his other hand.
He offered to give me his pizza since I was apparently quite convincing of the life or death situation that I was experiencing. Although I was taught in pre-school to never talk to or take from strangers...there was no turning that pizza down. However, this is not the incident that I later spent pondering.
I am not sure if this guy even finished his sentence of his willingness to share before my hand automatically reacted and reached towards it. Although he had a fresh, full, untouched piece of plain pizza on the plate that he had started to extend in my direction...I went right for the half-eaten piece...I grabbed it...took the biggest bite that I could and smiled. I thanked him profusely and we parted ways as my friends were still heading to Panini's...after all...they hadn't taken food from random people on the street. By the time we got to the bar only a few doors down, my half-eaten pizza was long gone. I was bummed...I wanted more...it was going to be a long wait and I wanted that other half!
Basically, what I am getting at...is that we make choices in life. Often times, we CHOOSE the "half-eaten" pizza even though the full piece is right there in front of us. We set ourselves up to be bummed or wanting more...and yet it is our own fault. We either get impatient...are worried about what others might think...or we just don't pay enough attention to realize the possibilities. I know this analogy is kind of goofy...but it makes total sense in my mind.
Often times...we don't take responsibilities for our choices. Fact of the matter is...we are free to make our own choices. We are not completely power-less over our lives and our destiny. Although there are times in life when we feel alone, doomed, hopeless...we are not as weak as we often think we are. We don't have to accept and/or expect the worst the worse of the potential outcomes. We don't have to settle for less than our dream.
We can not completely control the things that happen to us...we are all dealt different hands...some may be shittier than others...but we do have control over the way that we play them. We have control over choices to love or hate, be positive or negative, be free or oppressed, forgiving or bitter, hopeless or hopeful. Basically, it often comes down to the fact that we must learn to take responsibilities for our lives and for the way that we live them. We need to learn to better evaluate the situations before us and then make the decisions that are in our best interest towards personal health, happiness, etc...
It's all about attitude. "Whether you think you can or you can't...you're right." We will always have countless choices before us...but we must realize that oftentimes something may simply be a choice of attitue.
So, don't pass up the fresh slice of pizza that is presented to you for the half-eaten cold piece. :-) Don't settle...when something you want is in front of you...go for it. Don't expect or accept anything less. :-)

Well, about 2 1/2 years after getting my tongue pierced, I was forced to part with it. It was hard and definitely bummed me out...but was unavoidable. I have always known that tongue rings can damage your teeth, get infected, blah blah blah. My mother alone has reminded me of that hundreds of times. I did not think that it could do as much damage as it did though. I went to the dentist last week and my doctor had a very uneasy look on her face as she examined me. She told me that I must remove my tongue ring because it was completely destroying my teeth...chipping them and wearing away at the enamel of my teeth.
As someone with an oral fixation, I did constantly play with the metal bar in my mouth and the balls at each end of it...biting it, sliding it, twisiting it...anything I could do with it...and apparently although I was "orally occupied", I was also slowly but surely wrecking my teeth...to the extent that I will have numerous dentist visits in the near future to complete the work that will add up to upward of $1000. That is one expensive piercing...and my parents have been able to throw in quite a few "I told you so"'s since I shared the news. (I hate when that happens!)
I had grown quite attached to my tongue ring...but it's obviously past time to let it go. My mouth feels so awkward without it...and I have realized just how much I was playing with it in my teeth as I have been constantly and automatically attempting to do so...only to have nothing there. Anyhow...it was fun while it lasted...but not worth the consequences.
So...just a personal recommendation...if anyone is considering getting a tongue piercing...you may want to consider it just a little longer....unless you want dentures by the age of 50 and have thousands of extra dollars...neither of which category I fall into.
I guess I'll always have the countless scary pictures of my tongue to hold on to as memories :-P

My mom forwarded me an email this morning that I found to be simple, yet brilliant. I immediately wanted to share it with everybody that I possibly could...so I decided to post it:

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked, "How heavy is this glass of water?" The answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g. The lecturer replied, "The absolute weight does not matter. It depends how long you try to hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance. In each case, it is the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes."
He continued, "And that's the way it is with stress management. If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won't be able to carry on."
"As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden."
"So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down. Don't carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow. Whatever burdens you are carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can. Don't pick it up again until after you've rested for a while."

Here are some great ways of dealing with the burdens of life:

1. Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.
2. Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.
3. Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.
4. Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their maker.
5. If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
6. If you lend someon $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.
7. It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to be kind to others.
8. Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won't have a leg to stand on.
9. Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance!
10. Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
11. The second mouse gets the cheese.
12. When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
13. Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.
14. You may be only one person to the world, but you may also be the world to one person.
15. Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.
16. We could learn a lot from crayons...some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all or different colors...but they all have to live in the same box.
17. A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.

“The Night”
Her “picture pefect”, carefree life came to a screeching halt that night. In minutes, she took an abrupt and dreadfully sharp turn off of the pathway that she had been previously traveling. It was a pathway lined with lush, beautiful foliage…bursting with countless forms of joyful life. Then...that night, she was turned onto a pathway that was dark, lifeless and miserably depressing. Things have never been the same since that night…”the” night. Following that night, years and years went by in which her life spiraled viciously downward…out of control. She now writes the following letter, although she knows it will not be sent:
Dear "Destroyer"
I have been desperately yearning to get this off my chest for years. I have want to remind you of what you did to me that night…make sure you can’t ever “forget”. I want to fully explain, although impossible, the constant hurt and pain that you selfishly inflicted upon me that night…the hurt and pain that has consumed my body ever since. I want you to tell me why you did it. I want you to tell me how you felt. I want you to look me in the eye…acknowledge what you did…feel my pain.
All I ever asked of you since that night was to acknowledge to me what happened…acknowledge that you quietly and passively watced the aftermath of your actions…silently watched my physical and mental deterioration. I want you to acknowledge that you forever crushed my previously healthy self-esteem…acknowledge that, out of fear and shame, I let you get away with something that should have had serious consequences…that should have destroyed YOUR life too.
Although I am not a hateful person…I have such an intense disgust and anger towards you and what you did to me that night. I have such an intense fury that has been forever established in my heart. My stomach turns…anxiety overwhelms me…my mind begins to aggressively spin…contemplating each of the things that I wish I would have done to avoid that night…all of the things I wish I had done after that night…all of the pain that I want you to lift from my soul and carry within you.
There was nothing physically visible from that night…there was no evidence to outwardly display my injuries…to inform others of the damage that was done. Internally however, I was destroyed. You destroyed something inside of me that can never be completely repaired…inflicted wounds that can be medicated…bandaged...relieved of some of the pain…but never fully healed. The scars will always be large and obvious. You destroyed a piece of me. I want you to acknowledge what you did that night…to acknowledge the role that you played in the night that changed my life forever.
Sincerely,
"Destroyed"

Bon Jovi is one of my absolute favorite artists of all time. He has one song titled "Bad Medicine". This is a simple and perfect way to describe a few things in my life. First of all, the lyrics go like this:

Bad Medicine

I aint got a fever got a permanent disease - Itll take more than a doctor to prescribe a remedy - I got lots of money but it isnt what I need - Gonna take more than a shot to get this poison out of me - I got all the symptoms count em 1,2,3
First I need - Thats what you get for falling in love - Then you bleed - You get a little but its never enough - On your knees - Thats what you get for falling in love - And now this boys addicted cause your kiss is the drug
Your love is like bad madicine - Bad medicine is what I need - Shake it up, just like bad madicine - There aint no doctor that can cure my disease
Bad, bad medicine - Bad, bad medicine
I dont need no needle - To be giving me a thrill - And I dont need no anesthesia - Or a nurse to bring a pill - I got a dirty down addiction - It doesnt leave a track - I got a jones for your affection - Like a monkey on my back
There aint no paramedic - Gonna save this heart attack - When you need - Thats what you get for falling in love - Then you bleed - You get a little but its never enough - On your knees - Thats what you get for falling in love - Now Im addicted and your kiss is the drug
Your love is like bad madicine - Bad medicine is what I need - Shake it up, just like bad medicine - So lets play doctor, baby - Cure my disea - seBad, bad medicine - Bad, bad medicine
I need a respirator cause Im running out of breath - Youre an all night generator wrapped in stockings and a dress - When you find your medicine you take what you can get - Cause if theres something better baby well thay havent found it yet - Your love is like bad medicine - Bad medicine is what I need - Shake it up, just like bad medicine - There aint no doctor that can cure my disease
Your love is like bad medicine - Bad medicine is what I need - Shake it up, just like bad medicine - Your loves the potion that can cure my disease
Bad, bad medicine
Bad, bad medicine

I can relate to these lyrics as if it were me who put them down on paper. I have a few forms of "bad medicine" that I have used to temporarily relieve my pain. The main medications on my list are alcohol, the touch of men, self destruction and drugs/pills. Each of these is obviously very "bad medicine". I know this. Yet, I continue to use some of them. I continue in my attempt to hide, suppress and numb my pain. Ironically and continually, the pain is later increased and intensified. But I get a moment, no matter how short or long, to stop feeling...to stop hurting...to stop hating myself. Each of these "bad medicine"'s momentarily fills some kind of void within me...or at least takes my focus off of my obstacles. I know better...I hate to see anyone else on this destructive and unhealthy path...and it seems so stupid...yet I continue on down that road. Also, eliminating one of my "meds" or coping mechanisms has always been followed by simply acquiring another destructive remedy. If it's not this, it's that. If it's not that, it's those. I don't want to continue to self-destruct...yet I do. I have an extremely obsessive, addictive and impulsive personality. Sometimes these qualities honestly make it difficult for me to even give a shit about anything...myself...life...the consequences of my actions...anything. I know that I must clean out my "medicine" cabinet...but the mere thought leaves me feeling ill, anxious and resistant. Then what will I do? Then I would have to feel...all the time! That is an overwhelming contemplation.
Bad, bad medicine...bad medicine is what I need
Bad, bad medicine...bad medicine is killing me

I currently coach a 4th grade girls basketball team. We had our first game yesterday and we won 19 to 11. :-) I had so much fun! The sense of accomplishment and pride on the girls' young faces was fantastically coupled with the occasional chaotic confusion to be expected in their first ever basketball game.
Hearing them squeal after the game about how much fun they had left me with a feeling of total success as my motto/coaching philosophy can be summarized by the simple adage, "Do your best and Have fun!" Those are the only two things that I could ever ask as a coach.
Because I previously assisted my dad in coaching the 4th grade girl's volleyball team during the fall sports season, which now makes up half of my basketball team, I have become quite attached and fond of these little girls. Their innocence and excitement is fascinating...and I find myself wanting to forever protect each of them from ever being robbed of that happiness...from ever having to experience the reality of our often vicious world. I know that doing so is impossible...and it disheartens me.
These precious girls bring out my inner child...and constantly display such an inspiring passion for life.
Seeing them look up to me, I remember the way that I looked at older girls when I was their age...with such an admiration and a desire to make them proud. I never imagined myself being that "older girl". Furthermore, I never imagined how much I aspire to never disappoint them...probably moreso than they even attempt to refrain from disappointing me. I strive to be a valuable and encouraging female role model to them. I want to influence them positively and have a confidence-inducing impact on their lives.
I know that I can not keep them young, innocent and unharmed...but I can and will do my very best to provide them with the tools, confidence and values that will help them remain strong and to believe in themselves when they are inevitably faced with adversity down the road.
I look forward to watching each of them grow up into the beautiful women that I know they will. In the mantime, I will enjoy their joyful and innocent spirits.

I try so hard to act so confident and strong...to hide each weakness and the nagging insecurities. But I'm very fragile...shattered and so loosely glued back together. I am weak...so susceptible to injury.
I'm falling for you hard...and I'm scared...but want desperately to ignore my fears. When I'm with you, my worries are lifted...momentarily pushed back into a place that allows me to smile...to believe in love...and to peacefully sleep long enough to dream.
Laying in your strong, safe arms...pressed against your baby smooth skin...smelling your distinct, alluring smell with each inhale...knowing that I will never forget it...and periodically feeling your full, soft lips press softly against my forehead.
I begin to feel lost in you, my legs intertwined in yours...feeling your gentle breath steadily warm my cheek as my head gently rises and falls in unison with your perfectly muscular chest.
The way that you notice when my toes are cold and immediately wrap them in the warmth of yours...the way you lightly run your fingers over each curve of my body sending chills down my spine and releasing butterflies in my stomach. The way you relax your hold on me when I need to adjust my position in the middle of the night and then promptly pull me back into your arms and caress me back to sleep.
The way we playfully argue about who is better...Kobe or Michael. The way I can act goofy without hesitation. The way you look at me...the way that your eyes seem to genuinely care. The way your smile lights me up inside.
Each moment with you feels so right...but I worry that you don't feel the way that I do. I worry that the intensity and passion that I feel are unmatched...and may eventually be abandoned. Yet somehow, even that crushing possibility seems to be completely overshadowed by any opportunity that I am granted to feel the special way that you make me feel.
Upon our first meeting, your outward beauty was immediately matched with an internal beauty that is so complete...so powerful. I have only known you a short time and yet you make me feel as though it has been forever. I question myself...am I being reckless...getting attached too soon...setting myself up to be hurt? But then I lock eyes with you and feel connected to you in a way that I can not describe. It's as if my thoughts repeatedly jump from my mind to your lips and I wonder if I unknowlingly said them out loud...I didn't. You and I are are just so much alike...so perfectly different and perfectly alike...a balance that can not be created if not naturally there.
I want to ask you if there is anyone who takes my place in your arms on the nights that I lie alone...but I am scared. I don't want to so much as even open myself up to the possibility of an answer that would sadden me...even though it is something that I must find the courage to ask. I just don't want to forfeit the way that you make me feel. I'm scared. I'm falling for you hard.
Please don't hurt me.

A few days ago, one of my best friends from school (@ University of Dayton) gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. It is so crazy and difficult for me to try to comprehend the reality of any of my friends married with children! Furthermore, this particular friend used to be my "partner in crime". We had a little "crazy, too much partying" phase together. Now, she is settled down with a teaching job, a great husband with whom she is madly in love, and now an absolutely gorgeous baby boy.

Since hearing her wonderful happy news, I have been thinking a whole lot...too much as usual. Part of me wishes that I at least had something that had potential to one day lead to marriage and babies...even potential to have potential. Another part of me considers myself so young and so far away from even wanting to settle down with a family. Then, at the thought of one day having children, whenever that may be...I become scared...my stomach twisting and turning with that feeling I get when I know I'm about to get in trouble. I know it is not something that is in my near future...but I would like to think it is in my future somewhere down the road. And it terrifies me. I start to look at myself and my life from an outside perspective...I see that I am at a very unstable time in my life...a place that I have visited and revisited many times over the past 7 or 8 years...too many times to count...a place that I feel that I will unfortunately continue to visit throughout the rest of my life. When I am in this particular place...I can not take proper care of myself...physically, emotionally, mentally. So...how would I ever care for my babies...for a family of my own. I get scared. I continue to think and try to believe that I would pull it together and be a great mother...and assume for a moment that this will be the case...I get scared again. Will I pass my insecurities...my problems...my issues...onto my children? Will I bring someone into this world that, god forbid, will come to a time in their life in which they no longer want to even live? How would I ever begin to deal with those kinds of things. Right now, I feel short of breath and overwhelmed at the thought. This is probably due to the fact that one of my few and greatest fears is failure...failure at anything. I don't want to fail...I have an intense and extreme fear of failing...to a fault. I want to, at the very least, be able to contemplate my future without feeling sick to my stomach, without my heart racing, without that overwhelming apprehension. I want to believe that one day I will. But it is very hard for me to believe. I am so happy for my friend and her happiness and this new chapter in her life. But I just wish my brain had an "off" or "mute" button sometimes...I'm scared.

Body image is a very common problem in women. It makes me so sad to see girls obsess and worry over their weight and appearance. Interesting thing is, it seems that of all the girls that I know...it tends to be those who look the best and work out that obsess the most...are the unhappiest. From my side, it is so obvious that what they see in the mirror is not what others see. I just want them to be able, for a minute, to step outside their bodies and view themselves as I and others view them. There are so many things in life that are much more important than the unattainable "perfect" body. I think that this situation makes me so sad because I understand it very well. I am not completely secure, confident and happy with my body even though my current body is probably the best I will look through the rest of my life...I should enjoy it because in 10 years I will probably long for this body.
After battling anorexia for 4 years of my life...I understand body image...body distortion...body obsessions all too well. These things consumed my entire life and identity for many years. When I look back at pictures of me then, I am appalled. I can not believe that I looked like I did and truly never saw it at the time. 5'6" and 80-90 pounds!? I was literally skin and bones...yet I saw a worthless pig staring back at me in the mirror. If I wanted to get to 100 pounds and then "I'd be happy/satisfied"...then I'd get to 100 pounds and proceed to need 95...then I'd stop...etc. etc. This cycle repeated itself for a long time. It became a game with me...a power trip...something I could control...I felt as though it became my entire identity...the only thing I had left...my best friend and worst enemy. Everything else in my life, one by one, became something of the past that I no longer enjoyed or possessed any desire or care for.
It was more about control and power than striving to be thin...but it spiraled viciously out of control...I worry and fear for my female friends because I know how quickly, easily, and unintentionally eating disorders can develop...and I know how miserable and empty one's life becomes. I remember hearing stories about anorexia when I was younger and proclaiming that I could NEVER become such a thing. It baffled me and was something I could not understand...then...at the age of 16...I understood.
Although I have fully recovered from anorexia, I'd be lying if I said that the nagging, degrading voice in my head is completely gone. Like most women, I am still tormented by that voice...the voice that constantly attempts to break me...to destroy me...to rob me of my life and of happiness. I have learned how to better cope with and "talk back" to that voice...but I know that in reality...it will never cease to at least exist in my head as a whisper. It's a constant struggle...it is something I can totally relate to...and yet when it is me on the outside...I am so frustrated, bewildered and sad...that my friends...my beautiful and attractive friends do not see what I see.
Negative body image is a tricky issue...there is no easy answer to the thoughts and feelings that accompany it. It is something that will never go away...it won't go away in myself...and it won't go away in most women. It breaks my heart.
I wish for my friends to see what I see when I look at them...and I wish to see what they see when they look at me.

Throughout my adult life, I have often attempted to build the strongest of walls in order to keep people out. I have held up the barbed wire to prevent people from getting inside...even though it may be painful for me. I have recently been better as far as talking with those who I have learned to trust...but it is still difficult to completely let down my guard. I have spent years building up and reinforcing my walls. I venture outside those walls, however I quickly retreat back to "safety" when someone starts to get too close to my inner-most feelings, emotions and experiences. This is mainly the case with men. I have often numbed myself behind my walls prior to embarking on my journey beyond them. I have often thrown myself into the wild...wandering into those places that I know to be most dangerous...most hazardous....to those places where people...men...won't so much as attempt to get beyond my walls. It is time that I must begin to strengthen my mind and my self-esteem rather than my walls...rather than clutching that barbed wire...allowing it to wound my body so long as I try to tell myself that I am preventing others from further wounding my heart...my soul...even if I know I am doing the opposite.
It is now time to cautiously remove the barbed wire. It is time to strengthen my mind. It is critical...it is essential. I must better learn when and where my guard is and is not necessary. I must refuse to settle. I must attempt to see within myself those qualities and that potential that others see within me.

Why is she so sad? A grown woman who often feels like the child in this picture...except that Mom or Dad's hugs can no longer fix her. Sad and vulnerable...depressed and sometimes hopeless. To the outside world, her life appears wonderful. She has an amazing family and a very strong and loving support system in her friends. She is intelligent, athletic, social/friendly, loving, trustworthy...and is generally very well-liked by her peers. She has had numerous wonderful opportunities and experiences and had the ideal and happy childhood. So what happened? Why is she so sad? Why is her brain wired with obsessive compulsions...self hatred...intense anxiety and sadness? Why does she "settle" into relations with men...why doesn't she believe any of her peers who insist that she deserves better? Why does she feel inadequate...even worthless at times? She wants so desperately to be happy as she once genuinely was...before he damaged her. She wants so desperately to heal her internal wounds and learn to love herself. She tries...she becomes so tired. The energy expended on what may seem so simple is absolutely exhausting for her. She has started her climb up countless times...only to repeatedly plummet to darkness shortly after. It is difficult for her to remain hopeful...but with the help and love of her family and friends...she tries. Thankfully, she has many people that continue to extend their hands in order to help her climb out of the deep holes that she digs...people that refuse to give up on her...people that continue to love her and support her regardless. However, no one can pull her out by themselves...she must first climb towards their outstretched hands. They can not save her so easily. She often gets ahold of a helping hand...only to slip back out of their clutches and descend back towards her rock bottom. Why is she so sad? She is often told she is so strong...so why does she continue to struggle? Why is she so sad? And will she ever obtain true happiness within herself? She will continue to try...she will try to believe and remain hopeful in herself as others continue to believe and hope in her.

I am so blessed when it comes to friends. I have numerous "best friends" and I have many people that I love and trust...many people who have been there for me and helped me through the tough periods of my life. Although I love all of my friends...I have one different kind of friend. She is on an entirely different "best friend" level and those two words don't even do her justice. I really have no words that could fully describe how important she is to me and how much she has done for me. She gives me strength and hope when I otherwise have none. She has a way of talking to me that makes me want to listen and take her words to heart. She understands me and knows me so thoroughly...so deeply...that we can have an entire conversation without words. Her love for me, and mine for her is so intense that even trying to think of a way to explain her importance in my life fills me with anxiety because it is just so overwhelmingly powerful. No amount of "thank you"'s or "I love you"'s could ever make her or anyone else fully understand the feelings that I have about her and our friendship. Her strength and wisdom have kept me going, gets me over the bumps in the road and instills some sort of hope within me for true happiness. She has helped me up each of the countless times that I have fallen...and her comfort is something that I can't imagine living without. She has no idea how much I admire her..how much I look up to her...how much I want to make her proud...how much I want to see us both genuinely happy. I could go on and on and on and still not fully describe our friendship but to My Mandy, I love you so very much and am so lucky to have you in my life and to have you as my best best friend. When I think about you, you are truly in a world of your own when it comes to my friendships/relationships. I will never be able to make you understand exactly how I feel...and although it'll never be enough...Thank you and I love you! Your friendship is more important to me than you could even know. You are my best friend. You are my family. You are My Mandy :-)

As our Cleveland weather just went from beautiful Spring to freezing Winter in the matter of a couple hours, I have found myself daydreaming passionately about Hawaii. Thinking about the fact that I was supposed to still be living there and finishing school at UH in the year-round warm sunshine. I know it was not realistic for me to stay there and do so...yet I always find myself with questions and 'what if's" What if I stayed just a little longer and found a better job, what if school at UH would have been amazing, what if I would have sucked up the low income and lived off of the very bare essentials...Luckily, the reasonable, intelligent part of my brain jumps in eventually and I realize that it is what it is, there are no what-ifs, it happened how it did and it happened for a reason and I am forever grateful for the two experiences I did have living in Honolulu. I learned a lot about life and myself and did so while in the middle of a tropical island. I am close to and love my family and friends so very much and it was definitely difficult being half way across the world from them...with it being difficult to even speak on the phone due to the 6 hours time difference. I know I can't complain about moving home...I am just NOT ready for winter...as usual. So, I will just try to stay on the beach...at least in my mind. It's all mental. It's all attitude.

While breezing through my various "to do" tasks on the internet this morning, I randomly came across this picture. It made me smile and my heart started to beat a little more rapidly (in a good, happy way). I felt as though I was momentarily whisked back to my childhood. I felt as though I was actually looking at a picture of myself from one of my mom's photo albums. This small innocent girl, unharmed by the brutal world, so content...at peace...on the beach. I long to be back on that sand as a young undamaged girl. This small beautiful child has no idea how much she should or will appreciate that very moment. I had no idea. There is no way to really comprehend it at that age. But how wonderful it is to at least have had that time in my life...even if it is now only a memory.

*Just a general FYI...over the past couple months I have found that many people have NO idea what honesty means. So, here is a brief, general definition for those "adults" who are still somehow completely unaware of its actual meaning.

Main Entry: hon·es·ty
Pronunciation: 'ä-n&s-tE
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -ties
1 a : fairness and straightforwardness of conduct b : adherence to the facts : SINCERITY
Synonyms: HONESTY, HONOR, INTEGRITY, PROBITY….mean uprightness of character or action…. HONESTY implies a refusal to lie, steal, or deceive in any way…INTEGRITY implies trustworthiness and incorruptibility to a degree that one is incapable of being false to a trust, responsibility, or pledge…etc.

The touch of a man. What is it about the touch of a man that evokes within me such powerful feelings and such intense desire?
I am not even talking about the sexual aspect of being with a man. I am also not talking about the touch of just any man.
It is certain individuals, whom when wrapped in their arms and pressed against their skin can overwhelm me with such a sense of calm and comfort…can momentarily make me feel so content. Much more importantly, what is it about these individuals that allow me to compromise myself…to block out those gut feeling…those feelings that are trying to tell me that this is not the wonderful person that I would like to believe it is?
Why do I cling to those brief, fleeting moments of happiness? How do I still allow myself to lower my guard? I have an exceptionally strong distrust in men…and yet I continue to hope. Hope for what? Sometimes, I think I simply hope for hope.
Most of the time, I am completely hopeless…and yet I continue to jump at the mere opportunity to hope…and to genuinely believe in that hope. To hope that I will obtain the touch of a man…whose touch I will have forever…whose touch is genuine…real…honest…whose touch is not touching another woman.
Hopeful…or hopeless…my stance jumps back and forth as if the ball in a never-ending tennis match . What is it about the touch of a man?

*"Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow."
*"Live every day like it's your last...because one of these days it will be."
*"One day your whole life will flash before your eyes; make it worth watching."

These three quotes have always been three of my favorites in terms of 'Life'. They have somewhat consumed my mind lately as I have spent much of the past week contemplating these three short, simple phrases.
My obsessive thoughts were triggered by something that recently happened to my very best friend. Her co-worker and friend, a healthy, young 28 year old girl with a special talent in photography...had a sudden brain aneurysm and lost her life shortly thereafter. It was that quick. She had left work in a particularly positive and happy mood...and within hours she was gone. Boom.
Although I did not know her personally, the thought twisted my stomach into knots and sent my brain into a violent spin. I began to think about my friends and my family...I tried to stop these thoughts as they began to terrify and upset me. I then realized that I can not try to ignore those emotions. Rather, I need to make an attempt to focus more often and more consistently on what is truly important in my life...what truly matters. If someone close to me had a sudden brain aneurysm last week...would I have any regrets about what I had said or done...or hadn't said or done in our last encounter?
It can be so simple as an "I love you" on my way out the door...or trying to overpower the nagging voice in my head that may be "too tired" to return that phone call from a friend tonight... or from simply sharing a smile the countless people I encounter daily. It can be so simple as refusing to leave the house for the day immediately after a typical sibling argument in which things are said that are not truly meant.
What is truly important to me? How do I show that? Would I be able to look back at my last experience with each of my loved ones and be content with my final actions or words with that person?
Like the beginning three quotes, we must live for today. That is all we are promised...this moment. Although it may sound cliche...it is the truth. We can not change the past and we are not guaranteed the future...so why is it that we spend so much time obsessing over both of them? I vow to myself today, to concentrate on focusing my energy on the present moment and on the people who matter in that present moment. I am not guaranteed my life or anyone else's tomorrow...I will think of that next time I want to spit out words that I can not take back...I will think of that next time I am about to leave the house before telling my family "I love you" because they are upstairs and "I'm already half way out the door...Ill just tell them tonight."
I am so thankful for my amazing friends and family and have realized that you can never tell someone that you love them/are thankful for them too much. We are only promised this moment, and I plan to live it.

I had the most incredible dream a few nights ago and I can not stop thinking about it. It sounds like an unrealistic fantasy, and yet it seemed so, so real.
I have always had a love…passion…and complete fascination with dolphins. I think they are such amazing creatures…so beautiful and so intelligent. Sparked by my attraction to dolphins, I decided to take the opportunity to swim with about 6 of them years ago while in Miami, Florida. (That is a whole other topic to write about thoughJ). Also, a couple of years ago, I drew an image of a dolphin jumping over a sun and ocean waves. I then had this image transferred to a permanent tattoo on my inside left ankle. I can not help but smile at the sight of it as I am instantly reminded of wonderfulness and mystery of a dolphin’s life.
So, back to my dream…My dad and I were out in the middle of a calm, turquoise, crystal clear ocean. There were no boats…no land…no anything in sight….except about 50 gorgeous dolphins. Each was unique from the others. Each one of them knew us. We knew each of them…just as we would know our friends as humans, immediately upon seeing them.
I comfortably glided sharply beneath the water, without the need to even surface for a breath. We all played…we all communicated explicitly without words. It was as if I belonged in their mysterious ocean world. Each dolphin’s personality radiated beyond its smooth, shiny and powerful body.
When my dad and I swam to the surface, they did the same. They playfully followed commands that we signaled with our hands as we laughed and applauded their resulting tricks, leaps and flips.
I never wanted to leave their world…however, it was inevitable. My dad and I, side by side waved at the large group that faced us, both enthusiastically and sadly. The dolphins simultaneously squealed, splashed and waved their fins goodbye. We reluctantly turned to swim away together as I let the ocean and my tears unite. It was then that I awoke from my wishful fantasy.
Dolphins are such intriguing beings. It was magnificent spending some time, even if only in a dream, in their mystifying and drama-free world. In reality, I know that I can not be a part of their world. While I sleep however, I will eagerly answer any future invitation.

In about 10 hours, the Cleveland Cavaliers will begin their 2006-07 season. Not only is this great news in that basketball is my favorite sport AND the Cavs are my favorite team...but as basketball season begins....football season continues! :-)
My favorite time of the year is when these two overlap. There's always a game to watch, a team to cheer for, a team to cheer against, and tickets to be desired.
One upcoming weekend will surely be one to go down in my most memorable. The weekend of November 17th:
Friday = CAVS home game
Saturday = OSU(No.1) vs. MICHIGAN(No.2)
Sunday = BROWNS vs. STEELERS
I am eagerly awaiting that weekend as it is a perfect way to celebrate my favorite sports time of year!

I have long known that smell is our strongest sense in relation to memory. It is quite amazing actually, the thoughts and feelings that one particular smell can conjure up. They can be great, awful, and anywhere in between.
Yesterday, I returned home from a busy, stressful day at work to a particular smell that, almost eerily, sent warm chills throughout my body. It felt like electricity running through my body as the fine hairs on my arms stood straight up. My mom had spent the early portion of the day making Italian sauce and meatballs from scratch the way my grandma (her mother) used to. Immediately upon walking in the door from the cold weather outside, I felt warm...at ease...happy...relaxed.
It smelled like Grandma's. It smelled like it used to smell every Sunday when I was a child. This is no ordinary Italian meal smell either. It is one that I can not explain in words but one that I grew to know and love many years ago. And it is extremely particular to Grandma...Even though my mom prepares her wonderful sauce and meatballs quite often, she doesn't always get it juuuuust like Grandma (since Grandma grew up cooking in Italy and never used or wrote down recipes. She just knew. So although momma's cooking always smells great...today it was different...it was Grandma...exactly.
I wanted to grab a pillow and just curl up on the kitchen floor...and surely could have due to the fact that I was indescribably comfortable as I absorbed myself in that smell and its memories. It was a comfort so overwhelming and peaceful that I felt that I could have walked on fiery nails and not even noticed.
The smell flooded my mind with wonderful childhood memories from Grandma's house. I wanted to be blanketed in that smell and just lay by Grandma and watch our shows...Wheel of Fortune, Cash Explosion, and our favorite...Golden Girls :)
I am so thankful for my sense of smell. I miss my childhood and I miss my grandma so very much...that it is fantastically pleasant to, once in a while...and often unexpectedly, be whisked back into those days, memories, and feelings....even if only for a moment.

At the thought of you, my heart begins to race. Intense anxiety takes over my entire body. The thought of you fills me with rage…and sadness. The thought of what you did to me sends my mind spinning wildly…with so many thoughts and questions. I find my daydreams overtaken by the wicked, immoral things that I sometimes feel that I want to do to you.
Do you ever think about me? Do you ever even think about what you did? How did you continue to look me in the eye for years? How did you still feel you that you had any right to be a part of my life? You looked at me…you looked at everyone else…knowing what you did. Did you care?
You watched me slowly waste away to a dangerous 80 pounds…my skin hanging off of my bones. You saw how sad I was. You saw what you did to me. Did you even care?
You proceeded to avoid acknowledgement of my presence unless necessary. My stomach turns at the thought. It sickens me…what you did. It sickens me that I think about it every day. It sickens me that you have gone about your ‘happy perfect little life’ without ever acknowledging what you did…without ever being punished or even simply reprimanded for what you did. It sickens me to know the extent of the damage within me that you started. It sickens me…the thought of you…the thought of your face…the thought of your name…the thought of anything you.
Did you ever even care?

I have recently reopened some very painful wounds from my past…excruciating internal wounds. The pain is unbearable at times. I am often overwhelmed, unable to think straight. These wounds inside of me, some having originated many years ago, have never healed. I never allowed them to heal. I simply numbed each one in whatever way that I could…thus, proceeding to further mutilate each one due to the fact that I couldn’t feel.
I am beginning now, an attempt towards properly medicating and healing the destruction within me. It is a harder journey than I could have ever imagined. I am feeling things that I have spent a good portion of my life suppressing. Not only am I feeling each of them, but I am feeling many of them simultaneously. It is painful. It is exhausting. At times, I don’t know how I can possibly proceed down this path. The journey is brutal…so I try to remind myself that my future destination is a glorious and positive place. Is that enough to keep me going?
In the past, I have always found ways to shut myself off…shut off feeling, shut off thinking, shut off caring…always longing for anything that will take away my feelings. Anything that will numb my pain. I have countless scars covering my body on the outside. While ignoring the wounds within me, I have always picked at and continually ripped open any cut, bug bite, gash etc. on the outside of my body. I wanted to bleed. I wanted the pain to be visible. Inside of me, the pain is so intense and yet it can not be seen on the outside. My scars represent my pain. The pain that I can’t otherwise express.
I want to heal. I want that so badly. It is still so difficult, so scary. I want to continue on that path…but will I? Will my extremely obsessive and addictive personality finally allow me to push past and continue forward? Will I turn back to unhealthy coping mechanisms?...Alcohol, sex, drugs…? Will I be able to handle the constant sting..the constant throbbing within without suppressing my reactions and feelings? Will I ever be able to heal? Do I have what it takes?

As a little girl, I vividly remember returning from a family trip to Cedar Point. I went to sleep that night, year after year, thinking about and wishing that one day I would be so rich that I could have the biggest roller coaster in the whole wide world right in my back yard. I envisioned it’s monstrous hills, it’s ups and it's plummeting downs, its twists and vicious turns.
I am now 23 years old, far from rich, and yet I got my roller coaster. I should have been more careful what I wished for...as my life for the past 8ish years seems like it has been just that – the biggest roller coaster in the whole wide world.

The leaves are beginning to change colors. The summer's green sea is slowly becoming a canvas of red and orange splashes. The season is changing. I am changing. I am trying to prepare myself for where I am going, yet I am not completely sure of where that is. I see myself in those dying leaves as they cling to their familiar branches...until they gently let go, allowing the wind to determine where each is to land and the journey that each will take in the meantime.
I often feel that my journey is just that...unpredicatable and everchanging. Just like the leaves in the wind.
No matter how violent the wind, each leaf will eventually have a gentle landing. No matter how violent the journey, I will hopefully land gently also...in the next chapter of my life. For that leaf's journey does not end upon its placement on the ground...it has simply begun a new one. It must be remembered, however, that the wind is never gone. It will continue to blow that leaf off of its course until the end of its existence...constantly rerouting its perceived path. I feel like that leaf...and it has been quite windy for a while now. When will the wind calm...Where will I land?

I made a mistake about a month ago and the consequence was a DUI and everything that goes along with that infraction. One of those things was the Driver Intervention Program where I have spent the last 72+ hours. Rather than being confined to a jail, we were confined to a hotel (and obviously prohibited from any drinking/drugs) and rather than being treated like criminals, we were treated like adults that had made a bad choice. Overall, I met a lot of really different, interesting, fun, and great people, I learned a lot about alcohol/drugs/dependency etc, and I learned a lot about myself.
One particular activity however, stands out from all of the others. It was the only time over the entire weekend that the entire feeling in the room changed dramatically.

Prior to this intense change, we had each been given a sheet of paper that asked: 'Out of all the people in the world who is the most important to you?' There was a space for their name followed by these contemplative questions:
1. How do you know this person?
2. How long have you known him/her?
3. What is the best experience that you have had with this person? Take a few sentences to describe this.
4. What is the most difficult time that you endured with this person? Describe in detail.
5. What was the worst argument/fight that you had with this person? Describe in detail.
6. Despite your differences, why have you continued to maintain a close relationship with the person? Describe in detail.
7. What sort of sacrifices would you make for this person?
8. What sort of sacrifices has this person made for you?
9. How has knowing this person impacted your life?

We had some time to fill them out and then each person shared his or her answers. Stories were told to faces of smiles and laughter. Heads nodded. Hands doodled. There was a consensual pleasure among the 16 of us in that room. After the final person had his turn, the group was dismissed for a 15-minute break to smoke, use the bathroom, etc. People talked and laughed all around me outside in the courtyard. After all, it was a beautiful day AND our leader/teacher promised that we would be done at 5 p.m., rather than the scheduled 9 p.m. so that everyone could at least see a good portion of the Ohio State game. When the allowed break time was up, we slowly refilled the room and took our seats. Once we were settled, another paper was passed out. It was part 2 of the exercise that we thought was complete. It was face down and was to be left that way until we were instructed to flip it over and begin after they had all been passed out.
"Okay, go ahead" is what I think that our instructor said. It was at this moment that I could instantly feel the mood, the vibe, and the feelings in the room more than I felt the pen in my own hand. The "class clowns" had no jokes and each individual's eyes and body language fiercely radiated his or her feelings about the activity. Some were filled with anger, some with sadness, some stunned, and some were simply blank as they had been completely caught off guard.

This sheet of paper read: Imagine that the person that you named on page 1 has been killed by a drunk driver. The driver lost control of his car. He was not injured. When arrested he tested positive for alcohol with a .091 blood alcohol level.
It was followed by 7 more questions:
1. How do you feel when you find that this person has been killed?
2. Describe in detail how your life will be different now that this person is gone.
3. Are there other people that will miss this person? If so, who and how will these people be affected? Describe in detail.
4. Most people agree that forgiveness is healthy. How will you be able to forgive the person that took his/her life away? Describe in detail.
5. How will you celebrate the memory of this person?
6. Would losing this person to a drunk driver make you change any of your own behaviors?
7. Would losing this person to a drunk driver make you more vocal about sober driving?
Upon completing my paper, it seemed as if it were an automatic reaction, like that of a hand from a hot stove, that my fingers shot towards the ceiling. Immediately, I asked if I could please go first. I knew this was going to be a tough one and I wanted to get it over with. I rarely show my emotions. I rarely cry. I rarely get nervous while talking in front of people I barely know. About 3 words into my response, my hands and voice began to shake. I didn't care. I felt the tears racing to the top of my eyes so they could then spill down my cheeks as I talked. I didn't care. I felt sick. The fine hairs on my arms were leaping for freedom. I continued all the way to the end with this shakiness…with these tears…with this nausea…with these chills. I had them all day. I am getting them now. This exercise made me really think…really feel.

Yes, I absolutely do have the right to drink. However, I have absolutely NO right to drink and then drive. None of us in this room were killers. Yet, anyone in that room could have been the one to kill 'My Most Important Person'. Likewise, I could have easily been the one who killed any of theirs. I will never be able to convince everyone not to drink and drive. Some people will never stop doing it. The only definite, absolute statement that I can make right now is that I will never again drink and drive. 2 drinks….10 drinks….doesn't matter. "I feel fine" doesn't matter. "I'm only 5 minutes from home" doesn't matter. "I drive better when I drink" does not fucking matter. You just never know what can happen in a split second. I will live the rest of my life confident that I will never be responsible for killing anyone's "most important person" while under the influence. I will also pray that the many important people around me are never victims of such an ignorant and selfish act.
I learned my lesson the hard way by getting a DUI. I learned my lesson the easy way in that all other drivers in my path that night remained safe. I am very grateful that something finally did smack me upside the head and screw up a lot of things for me in order to assure that it will never happen again. Because as much as it sickens me to say it…I know that I would have continued to drive in the future when I 'only had a few drinks' or 'felt fine'. For me personally, it will never be so much as an option in the future.

I saw you last night
I have thought of you countless times – and I finally saw you last night
You were beautiful
You did not speak with your mouth, but the depth of your eyes told me so much
There was a heartbroken, yet understanding look
You still had questions
I still had no answers
The soft caramel skin of your flawless face was outlined by your wavy tresses
Your light eyes were piercing as they were set off by your darker features
You were beautiful
I saw many people in your one body
Your presence was as strong as your physical prowess
I wanted to touch you, to feel you
You were beautiful
I wanted you to be there when I awoke, but I knew you couldn’t
My stomach knotted up like a clenched fist
My guilt, remorse, confusion, shame
Staring at your innocence, purity, strength, and uncertainty
You were beautiful
Your silence was deafening
You told me that you didn’t understand
You told me that it was okay
You told me that you were angry
You told me that I was forgiven
You told me you were gone forever
You told me that I would see you again
I saw you last night
You were beautiful