I Feel Pretty

I wouldn't say that I'm obsessed with how I look. In fact, I feel pretty great having short hair, never wearing make-up, and always wearing my glasses. I am constantly saddened when I hear remarks from the beautiful people in my life such as:

"I just look ugly today"
"I look fat"
"I need to work out more"
"My hair just is stupid today"
"I need to eat less"
"I can't, or I'll get fat"

It's true that most girls (and probably most boys) have struggles with accepting their appearance. There is always someone who looks prettier and there is always something that won't be perfect. I have written several papers on the definition of beauty. It's one of those things that I get passionate about. It's why I want to work with women with eating disorders. I want the everyone in the world to see themselves in a positive way. Because I rarely meet an ugly person but I'm sure I've met plenty of people who feel as if they are ugly.

I usually pride myself on how comfortable I am in my own skin. It's probably pretty comparable to vanity. But I don't think it's THAT bad. But I have a confession to make. It's a confession that was inspired by an episode of Glee. In the episode they sing this beautiful song (check it out, I dare you) and then you find out that the beautiful cheerleader use to be not as perfect looking.

As the character tells her story. It reminds me a lot of my own. I looked different in middle school. I found out that I was athletic when I started playing soccer and lost quite a bit of weight and then went through a growth spurt. I stopped wearing glasses, had braces, and started parting my hair on the side. Instead of straight down the middle. I started wearing clothes that fit me better and in the middle of all of this, I moved to a different state. And I gained a lot more confidence. I became a totally different person.

But unlike the character in the show, I don't hate what I looked like. It doesn't haunt me to think that someone might find out. I definitely don't think that what I looked like or what I did in middle school is killing who I can become. But I know that it's a part of me and in ways, it still haunts me. I once showed these pictures to a friend and he said "Is that really you?" What he didn't realize when he said this is that sometimes if I don't look in a mirror, that is how I picture myself in my head. Sometimes if I'm even looking in the mirror, that's what I see. I see my little eighth grade self. I often feel as if nothing has changed.

But so much as changed. And really, I'm glad that I'm still connected to that self from middle school. But most of all. I'm glad that I can look in the mirror and think that I look beautiful. In a recent talk to the men of the church President Thomas S. Monson said:

And although I can't really recall a time when a man other than my father told me I was beautiful, except for once. I feel blessed to have the confidence to know that I am beautiful. That even when I see myself as being in my middle school body, that I still feel beautiful. And I think he has a point. Every one deserves to feel that way. And maybe telling them has the effect to make it especially true. And that maybe, it will make a difference. 

And maybe they need to be reminded because maybe,

they aren't seeing themselves for who they are that day.

slow dancing in a burning room

A about a year and a half ago, I had a friend take me to a place that I was always too afraid to go to. When we walked in the door, I realized that I was never going to be the same. There was something special about that place that I just couldn't let it leave my life.

Since that night, I have met some interesting people. The good, and the bad kind of interesting. Yet, I love all of them. I have never been in such a judgment free place in my life. To everyone there, it is simply a place to bond over a shared love.

I've gained some of the most wonderful of friends.

They have taught me so much.

mostly, I've learned that you can't take life to seriously.

you have to laugh, you have to dance

you have to completely be yourself and let people accept it.

you have to be real.

When I found out that this place was going to be discontinued as a venue. It saddened me a bit.

It's not so much that I won't be dancing, or that I won't have those people.

Those will thankfully remain the same.

It's just the place that will be gone. And I will miss it.

But the dancing will go on. If there's anything I've learned, is that you can dance as long as you can move.

music is preferred, but completely optional.
Lessons have been learned. Lessons have been taught.
And every time, I keep learning more.

I'm not actually at Blue Tango in this picture.
It just so happens to be the only picture I have of me dancing.

yes we're lovers, and that is that.

A few weeks ago, I went to go see a movie. Usually, movies are good for numbing. Mental and emotional numbing. Just to forget everything that is happening in your life and just sit and not feel emotions for you. But feel for the characters. Watching the movie you feel happiness, heartbreak, frustration, sadness, complete loneliness, and so many other things as the character feels it. And then you leave the theater feeling particularly exhausted from all the feeling and your emotions slowly ease their way back into your body.

This is not what always happens. It's mostly a choice that I make, to numb all that is going on around me. That night. I definitely went into the movie ready to numb myself from all that has been on my mind. To feel someone else's emotions, because I was tired of mine. I saw a beautiful movie. It was amazing. And as I watched it, I felt the numbing. But while I was leaving, I realized that I wasn't numb. In fact, I was invigorated. As the character in the movie said, "I feel infinite". 

The rain was falling. It wasn't pouring. It wasn't sprinkling. It was simply raining. I love the rain. We were driving home and this glorious song came on the radio. And I felt good. I felt happy. All the emotions I had been feeling had been resolved. I don't know how to describe it. I felt like a weight had been lifted off, though I never knew that I had the weight there. It was like all of my feelings this past month were not mine and that I finally have all of my feelings back. I felt alive. I still feel that way. 

I feel like myself.

Not to say there haven't been moments that I've felt like myself in the past little while.

But I feel like I have woken from some melancholy dream in which I was living someone else's life.

And now I am myself for real.

this one's a fighter

I have so much to say about this picture. Yet I have no idea how to say it. I've tried to post it over and over this past week. But I have no words. So I'll just post the picture.

some folks like to get away...

 I love my job. I have a great boss, some fantastic co-workers, and three beta fish. There's something about feeding those fish that fills my life with purpose. I enjoy the responsibility I feel as I go to work each day and accomplish my assigned tasks. When I first started working in the lab, I felt mentally exhausted at the end of each day. I felt like I had to learn so much. It wasn't easy.

 But I'm getting use to it now. I am feeling more comfortable tasting the Latin as I speak it. I making sense of the intricate details on the small specimens. I can tell you what a halter is and where to find the calypters and the coxae. My task at the moment strays a bit from my learning. And now, instead of mental exhaustion, I am often finding myself emotionally exhausted at the end of my shifts. 

Solitude is a beautiful thing, I find it hard to find in this bustling college town. But as I sit at work and archive my boss's photo collection, I get pretty close to the feeling of complete oneness. The feeling of just being with myself. I usually spend my time thinking through my actions in the future and analyzing my actions in the past. I often find myself imagining what could have been, how I could have made it different, and then I remember that what is, is. And that I have no choice but to make different choices in the future. Like I said, it's exhausting. 

But I learn a lot. A lot about myself. Sometimes I let myself get lost in the pictures. I just spent three weeks travelling the world while sitting at a computer in Provo. For two of those weeks, I was in Mongolia. I fell in the love with the culture, the scenery, the people. It's all so beautiful. By the end of the two weeks, I was beginning to miss this place that I have never been. Mongolia looks so untouched, the people look so serene. Maybe not happy, but content. I just want to wander through it's hills, sit by it's rivers and lose and find myself all at the same time. 

Until then, I guess will have to settle for the beauty of a photograph

and the solitude of a small lab in Provo.

It's Time to Begin

When I was sixteen, a song came on my Pandora. It spoke to me. It was one of those moments where a song seems to be able to perfectly capture your emotions. It's so comforting in that moment, when you need it most.

What I didn't know is that four years later, I'd be coming home from long days and still listen to the song, finding comfort in it's words.

This past year, I have learned so much about myself. It hasn't been easy.

I have had time to analyze myself. I have recognized my habits.

I have broken a lot of bad ones.

I have formed a lot of good ones.

I'm still working on a few.

I use to play the game. I always had my eye on a boy, trying to get him to fall for me.

My brother called me a vixen, a maneater even. My mom once used the word vindictive.

Those words may be a little strong. But maybe not.

I was good at getting what I wanted. I was good at playing the game.

I liked it. I had fun. I wasn't getting hurt.

But this past year, the game hasn't seemed as fun.

I'm pretty sure if my brother saw me now-

vixen and maneater would not be his words.

He'd  probably use the words boring and sweet spirited. Maybe even shrew.

But who am I to put words in my  brother's mouth.

I sometimes try to make a connection to that self of mine. She seems to be far away.

I feel like I'm different than I use to be, but as it would turn out, I still find comfort in the same song, and that seems like enough.

And as I look at the person I've become, I like her.

She knows how to control her emotions. She's at peace with herself and others.

She's young. She's alive. She's free.

And she loves. She loves a lot.

So Independence Day has come, time has passed, and it keeps going. And that is what makes life such an adventure.

I'm pretty sure when looking at this picture, your first thought should be "coordinated".
Followed by the thought "dang attractive".

sometimes even frogs have rainy days

so in case you were wondering, I had a pretty awful week.
I can't exactly tell you what made it so horrible.
just a lot more downs than ups. some minor stress. some pain. some frustration.
just couldn't seem to make the wonderful things in my life stay in my mind.
I know that sometimes, you have to have a few bad days before you can have good ones.
but that doesn't mean that I particularly like when the bad days come.

but, the best part about having bad weeks is that they can turn into lovely weekends.

here are some things:
1. I have stellar friends. They have patience without end for me.
2. My mom always listens.
3. My brothers always makes me smile.
4. Playing the piano does so much for me.
5. There are almost 150 of these beautiful buildings on this planet. And being inside brings more peace and more comfort than I could ever hope for from any other place.

This particular one was dedicated this morning, it was lovely.

even the hardest of times can be made happy.
Life is good friends.

words I run by

Be pretty
if you are.

Be witty
if you can.

but

Be cheerful
if it kills you.

I don't think that any lovelier words have been put on the side of a house. 

raised by wolves

Just before I started kindergarten, my mom announced that we would be having another sibling.

I hoped with all my heart that it would be a girl.

So when my little brother was born, I was less than thrilled.

I only wanted a sister. That's all. I thought that no girl wanted a sister as much as myself, yet I was stuck with four brothers. FOUR.

A few years later, I had made a lot of friends, and they all had sisters.

After a few visits to their houses. I didn't want sisters anymore.

I've learned a lot from my brothers. And as they're growing up and amazing things are happening to them and their lives, I sometimes forget that I'm growing up too. I feel like I could sit and watch all the amazing things my brothers accomplish and not have to accomplish anything myself. 

My brothers inspire me to do better. To try harder. They make me a better woman by being splendid men. I often feel sorry for the guys I date and even just the guys I know, because they don't understand the standard that my brothers have set. I see my brothers and believe that there are guys that exist somewhere on this planet that are like them. And in my luck, I have come across a few that are pretty close.

Life is so interesting. We are born into families and because we're family, we become instant friends. I realize my brothers and I get along well most of the time because we were raised in the same household with the same rules and ideas on life. Yet we were all taught by different teachers, have had way different life experiences and are indeed in different stages in our lives. All the time. But somehow it all works out. I can happily say that my brothers are the best friends I have. They know what to say to make me feel better without knowing something is wrong. When we're together, we always have things to talk about. My brothers understand me when I say stupid things. 

There's something magical about it all. I sometimes wonder if I met men like my brothers if I would even hang out with him. Because maybe, what makes my brothers and I such good friends is the fact that we've bonded over the years. Although it didn't feel like bonding as it happened. The hours in the car to go on vacations where we all put our headphones in and read our books. I don't remember what we talked about as kids. But I know we talked. I know that we did countless things with each other. Which is why, even now, when we get together, we have no problems entertaining ourselves.

I'm sure others feel this way about their siblings. I'm sure I'm not really presenting anything new and different to the world. I just feel that I am so content in my life right now. I think it's because I am watching my brothers do all these things and have all these cool experiences. And this summer, I realized that so much of who I am is because of my family. We're all so far apart right now. It's weird for me to not have a sibling around. I've been spoiled enough for the past two years to always have one there for me. It's been a nice cozy college experience for me. If I felt lonely, or sad, or overwhelmed- seeing my brother always did the trick to make it all better.

Now it seems like I am truly on my own.

I am making a name for myself, by myself.

And it's strange.

But it makes visits so much more special.

Whether it's jumping into the ocean with one, or walking through Winco as he shops with the other, or watching the Little League World Series at the local burger joint with the other, I look back at these times and see them as some of the best of my summer.

And as the years go by, good times and bad will pass. But we'll get through it.

And although we're REALLY bad at communicating. Like really. That's just one of the not-so-perks of brothers...I'm determined to improve. And even if it doesn't improve. They're still my brothers. And they're still my friends. They aren't really wolves. But they have done a lot in raising me.

and now my fears, they come to me in threes

It amazes me constantly how cowardly I feel when I have courage. I feel like every day I find courage I didn't know I had. The courage to ask for help from a stranger. The courage to ask for help from a friend. The courage to speak up in church. The courage to speak up in day to day conversations. I've never had courage before. Or maybe, I've never noticed it before. But now that I have, I still find myself terrified to acknowledge it. Courage is like a superpower.

Courage is when your fears lose their power over you.

It's okay to be afraid.

Fears are our insecurities.

I don't like to be thought of as an insecure person.

Ever.

Who does really?

I usually don't know what I'm afraid of until it's staring me in the face.

But it's in that moment that I have to decide what is more important to me.

I like to think that I push my fears to the ground and they run away, never to return.

That's not always true though.

Sometimes, they come back- and I have to push them down again.

As school is starting, I'm realizing that I am terrified.

Not so much of failure

Lewis failed a lot. But it was awesome in the end.

I am mostly afraid of the idea that failing means that I have made the wrong choice for my life.

Again.

But life goes on- whether I'm afraid or not.

So I'll push my insecurities aside once more and hope they never return.

"And our dreams will break the boundaries of our fears"

Born To Run

My brothers and I were pretty big into comics when we were young. There came a time when I was in middle school when we had read every Garfield book that the library had and had made a good way through the Peanuts collection. So we started branching out. Along with Dilbert and Get Fuzzy, we also got into Pearls Before Swine. It was in this final book that I found this and I've never forgotten it:

Funny, right?

Well at the time I read it, I didn't laugh.

But it lead to my brother introducing me to Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run.

And let's face it, that song makes running away sound glorious.

Like it's an adventure. Like when you run away, you discover love, you can be any one you want to be. When you run, you are free and anything and everything can happen.

And that's pretty exciting. That song just screams "LIVE YOUR LIFE" to me. Maybe not to everyone else. But to me, that's how I feel.

So recently, I picked up a book: Born to Run.

Someone once told me that it's hard to sit and read this book because all you want to do is get up and run while you're reading it.

But I feel like so far (I definitely HAVEN'T finished yet), the book as taught me a little more.

Just as the song taught me to love metaphorical running. This book has taught me to love running. Yeah, I've ran a lot in my life mostly I prefer running for soccer and frisbee. But I've done quite a bit of running to simply stay in shape. But that was it.

As I've told people, "I run so I can eat ice cream and have rockin' calves."

But this book had me asking myself if that was the real reason and if that was a good enough reason. I mean, I could just do calf raises and lift weights at the gym. I mean, that works for a lot of people. But no, I run.

So I have reevaluated my desires and my goals.

And you know what, I love running.

And I run for legitimate reasons and I love to run for even more legitimate reasons.

The book talk about a lot of other really cool things.

Like how really, as humans, we're made to run and we can.

But that is for another post. I'm sick of talking about my over-injured body.

But really, if you're going to do something, know why.

"We'll run til we drop and never go back...because tramps like us, baby, we were born to run."

from the couch

when I was in the sixth grade, I fell off my little brother's bike.

if I could attempt to pinpoint the moment in my life when getting hurt became commonplace. I think that would be it.

shortly after this accident, I started playing soccer, and although only about 50% of my injuries in life have resulted because of soccer, it has played a major role.

in my mind, I have become invincible. I try anything because I am alive, and I am young and I am free.

yet, I like to throw myself at the ground and sometimes...the ground isn't cool with that.

upon my most recent fall, I texted my cousin and said "I'm so hardcore."

His reply.

There's a difference between being hardcore and being fragile.

I push too hard. especially that night.

there was this guy, he was being a jerk the whole night.

it was like he was trying to show off. but I'm not quite sure who he was impressing.

there came a point when I was guarding him and he said "throw it high, there's no way."

words cannot describe. not only did he make a stab at my height, but also my frisbee skills.

boy, I don't care how beautiful your face is (because really, he has a beautiful face). that isn't ever going to be endearing.

I have some great friends. friends who realized how rude it was, and also noticed how frustrated I was becoming. unfortunately, the more frustrated I become, the more reckless I also become. I started playing harder. Trying to prove that I was good enough. I was getting sore. I could feel my body getting angry.


then the pass came, I said in my mind "just going down on my knees, this won't hurt."
something happened.

couldn't stand. couldn't walk. so much pain. face in the grass.

carried home. put on the couch. given an ice pack.

and stayed.

for days.

not long after the fall. my roommate thought this was beyond comical. it's true.

I mentioned before that I have some great friends.

They took care of me.

I've been known to push through pain. But I was terrified to make it worse.

Knees are tricky.

So I actually rested. I hated almost every minute of it.

So much ice, so much sitting.

But it was good for me. I at least allowed the healing process to start normally.

I may be pushing through now. But I started it right.

I'm glad for friends.

I'm glad for healing.

and I know that I am fragile. and that maybe, I push too hard.

but I'm still alive, and young, and free.

so I'm going to keep playing.

"I can fit through there, you want to know why?"

I'm little.

I get it.

Ash is little, but that's what makes him fantastic. 

I don't see myself as little. This week, I have been reminded of such several times though.

And it always is a surprise.
My mom says I forget because I have such a big personality...
I don't know if that is a good thing or not.

It hits the hardest when I'm like, "oh, I'm not that short, I mean I'm taller than so-and-so."

and then a comparison is made and I am shorter or the same height as so-and-so.

But I never remember. I never see it as a defining quality.
But it kind of is.

And despite the fact that my friends think that I could pass as a 13 year old.

Even though I can't always reach things.

And various other things.

I kind of like being little.

Even though I don't always remember.

the love of the game

I don't think I can tell you the moment I first picked up a wiffleball bat.

And I don't know how many games my brothers and I played as children.

I don't know how to describe the countless Saturdays dedicated to Little League.

I can't count how many Stockton Ports games I've been to.

I don't know how many Oakland A's games I've been to.

I don't think I've ever mentioned it before, but now I will.

Baseball is kind of a piece of who I am.

When I think about it- most of my childhood memories involve baseball.

Or water...but that is a different story.

This past weekend, I fused the then with the now.

Baseball has entered my life once again.

And I love it.

I forgot that I loved it.

I forgot that I cared.

But I do.

There's this tiny part of me that wonders how I could ever let a love like this go. 

And how I could possibly find a way to love something else and just forget this part of me.

But it happened.

But somehow, baseball found it's way back.

And I couldn't be happier.

 

you can either give up, give in, or give it your all...

I often think back on life. Not so much as to dwell on the past, but more so to recall what I thought my future would be like. 

As I remember my ambitions, my secret desires and my sincerest hopes at different times in my life, I wonder what I was really like back then. I feel as if not much has changed about me. Yet those ambitions, desires, and hopes have all become much different.

I never imagined college life. Sure, I imagined getting a degree, and it's true, I imagined getting married at some point. But growing up, college was this giant roadblock between being a kid and living my dreams. I understand now that it's necessary. That I probably should have mentally prepped more for this time in my life. It's a time to take chances. A time when nothing is sure. A time for adventures. And a time to make choices that will determine the rest of your life.

What I use to expect of myself is now just a fleeting moment in the past. You can never plan your life. Well, I guess some people do. Some people know exactly what they want and do all they are capable of to achieve it. 

That was never me.

I never knew what I wanted.

A gymnast?

An artist?

A computer animator?

A psychiatrist?

A forest ranger?

A musician?

A math teacher?

At each time each of these "phases" came. I truly believed that was my calling in life. That is what I was truly talented at and able to do. Sometimes I like to think that I could have done any of those things. If I had really put my mind to it. What if I had just given up on these things?

And then I remember  that I don't want any of those things anymore.

I was discussing dreams and ambitions with a friend the other day and I mentioned how I can't even imagine why I ever thought I wanted to do something different than what I have planned now.

And I think that's what it's suppose to be like.

The way I see it, you can either give up on your dreams, give in to other people's dreams for you, or give your dreams all you have to give.

But you have to give.

in four years time

April 23, 2008:

Concert Band Festival day. I got to school early, got on a bus, drove to Burly. After a successful performance in which I had several solos, we got back on the bus and returned to school. I sat impatiently through the last half hour of seminary and then rushed home. My brother was going to be there with his new fiance and him being home was always a special treat. We got home and he, my little brother, and I went to the school and played some tennis. It was a lot of fun. Then we had to hurry home so I could get ready for rehearsal. It was for the spring musical, Annie Get your Gun, and I was in the pit orchestra, playing first chair trumpet.

Turns out, in little Jerome, there isn't a pit in the auditorium, so the orchestra sat on the wing of the stage. I had been sitting second chair in for a while and that day my band director thought he'd try having me sit on the outside. I switched chairs and looked at the zero space I had between the edge of the stage and my chair. My friend was sitting in the audience and I said I was nervous and she said, "Don't worry Callie, if you fall, I'll be here to catch you." We laughed about it. And ten minutes later, she left to go somewhere else.

I remember it often. The moment where I shifted my chair a bit, bent over to pick up my mute, my chair shifted again while I was sitting up straight. I looked over the edge and saw the leg of my chair in midair. I opened my mouth to scream.

Then there was the screaming. I couldn't figure out why or who, but everything hurt. I was on my back. And I soon realized. I was the one screaming. There were two people around me who I didn't know. They were parents. They kept telling me not to close my eyes and I couldn't figure out why, didn't these people understand that my eyes hurt and they felt better closed. I instantly asked where my brother was, not because I needed his comfort, but because I thought he'd need me to comfort him. He was freaking out. I told him to call mom. So he left and did so. The next question was "Where is my trumpet?" They looked at me like I was delusional and then promptly told me that my trumpet was "over there". I said that I wanted to see it, I wanted to know if it was okay. They wouldn't let me look at it. I was so upset, they kept telling me that it was fine. But I did not believe them (and rightfully so, my trumpet had to be completely re-piped after that).

My brother said that no one was home. So I told him to call our older brother, who's phone number I had memorized the day before. My mom eventually came, my screaming was not as constant, but it happened more than I'm proud to say. I was carried to the car by two good friends. I remember the look of terror on their faces as they loaded me into the car.

After that was countless hours in the emergency room. Most of which were on a backboard, which give me panic attacks. There were lots of CT scans, MRIs, blood tests and X-rays. I was in a lot of pain. My head hurt, the parents said that it looked like the chair could have landed on my stomach, my leg felt like there was a knife in it. It was a pretty traumatic experience.

Falling off the stage became a large part of who I am. But I have never understood why. It's not like that's what people remember about me. Most people have probably forgotten. For which I am grateful.

But something changed that day. There is part of me that feels like my life has been divided into the person I was before the fall, and the person I've become since. The past four years have been filled with four more concussions, countless amounts of days in pain due to limbs or post-concussion syndrome. But I don't notice it as much any more. If there's anything I learned from my fall is that when you are hurt, the world does not stop for you. You may not want to do anything or even get out of bed, but life is going on. I figured out that I can't stop living because I'm in pain. If I took a day off every time something hurt, I would have missed out on so much fun. I try to never look at a situation and say "I can't do that because of the limits of my body." I say, "I will try my best."

I guess I have kind of a strange relationship with pain. It has become a friend, that I can do anything with, there are no limits. I have learned to manage my life with pain and even not feel it's negative effects. I almost thrive off of pain. My pain has increased and strengthened my relationship with my Heavenly Father and Christ.

I am usually careful about who I tell about this story and what parts I tell them. It was a strange personal event for me. Yet I feel like if there is not some mention of it, people will never truly understand who I am and how I came to be.

Several times in the past four years, I have described this event as the time I almost died. I don't know if that is exactly true. But I know that for the past four years, I have been trying to make the most of the life I've been given. Because you never know when your chair will slip.

motivators

sometimes, I'll be going through my day, and it hits me-

reality.

I'm a college student.

a step toward true adulthood-

and I'm making it.

I remember at six or seven, writing to my cousins going to college at the magical BYU.

...they were superheroes...

as I sit in an apartment just upstairs from the one that they sat in 13 years ago, reading a letter from their little cousin-

I wouldn't necessarily call myself a superhero.

but I know, my six year old self is incredibly proud.

now, fast forward ten years- age 16:

I should have been thinking about college a little more seriously, but I wasn't.

I had a boyfriend. I had a flawless GPA. I had my best friends. I had loads of extracurricular's. I had a flourishing social life.

And I had some fabulous teachers.

All of which, I see pretty much every time I go home.

except one.

and she's the one that I wish I could see.

She is one of the best teachers I have ever had.

ever.

She taught me to love learning. She taught me how to write.

She taught me to push myself, to take my creativity and make it a masterpiece.

She taught me that I could do anything. She constantly validated my work.

But she also constantly pushed me to improve.

I fell in love with learning because of her.

She is also the one that lead me to insects.

And that has turned into a love affair that is going to support me for the rest of my college career.

And I wonder if she even knows.

leap day

we have an extra day this year. use it well.

anyway, in honor of the 29th of February - we watched the movie Leap Year.

I decided as I was watching it, that people like the idea of love at first sight, or falling in love in a few days because it makes it look so easy.

But in reality, we don't want that to happen to us.

We want time.

If we fell in love that fast, it would freak us out.

interesting.

an ode

to Hugh Laurie

Not who you were expecting, huh?

Really, I'm not one to know a lot about celebrities.

I sometimes pretend that they don't effect my life at all.

But really, that is a crazy thought.

Celebrities effect us whether we want them to or not.

Like most Americans- my first exposure with Hugh was through House M.D.

and I thought he was pretty swell.

And like most Americans, I realized that this was not my actually my first exposure.

He was in Stuart Little (which granted, I've seen twice).

And he was in the non-animated 101 Dalmatians, which I loved as a child.

But all the same, I thought he was a decent actor.

Recently I have found myself laughing at the pre-Americanized Hugh Laurie.

As Bertie in Jeeves and Wooster.

and the Prince in Black Adder.

Pretty much, he has always been hilarious.

But most of all.

Hugh Laurie sings the blues.

and dang Gina, he sings them well.

and if you ever watch him.

he loves every minute of it.

so this is my ode to Hugh Laurie.

He is passionate.

He loves what he does.

He's good at what he does.

And what he does makes me happy.

if this is a game

I never got the instructions.

I wish I had some instructions right now.

for the first time in my life.

I have no plan.

it's terrifying.

I don't know where to start.

I don't know where I'm going.

for the first time in my life.

I am unsure.

I am unsure of what I can do.

it's hard to believe that last summer I picked up the nickname "Too Sure Callie"

well friends, now I'm Unsure McAllister.

I'd like to think of it as humility.

but really it's just fear.

for the first time in my life.

I am finding myself afraid of the unknown.

for the first time in my life.

I am admitting it.

and.

for the first time in my life.

I am going to overcome it.

I gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which I must stop and look fear in the face . . .

I say to myself, I've lived through this and can take the next thing that comes along . . .

We must do the things we think we cannot do. — Eleanor Roosevelt

new horizons

well friends, I have a lot of choices to make in the near future-

but no plans...

so I'm looking into the horizon.

not quite having a clue of what it is.

or how I'm going to get there.

the sky is the limit.