I dont want to marry you.

I'm eighteen years old. Young, to most. Too young to get married, in my own opinion. I'm not ready, and that's fine. But I may be ready in 2-3 years.
There are two ways to end up married.
The way I want to start my future marriage is by dating someone who ends up being my best friend, and slowly becoming so intertwined in each other's lives that we don't want to spend a day without each other. This will be a slow process, I'm sure. It'll take a couple years. So I figured I should talk to Matt and see if he felt the potential was there for our relationship to eventually develop that way. Because for me, it was a no brainer. We're best friends. We rarely fight and when we do we make up fast. We spend every day together. We love each other.
Apparently not so obvious to him. He wants the second type, where romance and passion are so strong it hits him in the face. He wants to meet a girl and just KNOW she's "the one". And that's not there when he looks at me.
Personally, I don't believe in "the one". I think that Matt and I could have been happy together. We have similar life plans and we make each other laugh. He knows me inside and out, and I know him. But since we have different views on how we want our future marriages to go, it'll never be. Because even if we stay together for another year and he decides he wants to marry me, I'll feel like he settled.

"Do you love me?"
"Yes."
"Are you happy?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to break up?"
"No."
It doesn't make sense to me and it hurts so bad. Because from here on out, my relationship with Matt is just wasting my time. There is no future for us. But I don't want to be without him....
Because he's Matt. Because he knows that I hate ice in any drink besides water. Because when I'm sick or on my period he sits and holds me and rubs my feet to help me feel better. Because he knows my Chinese order by heart. Because he believes in me when I'm not sure I believe in myself. Because he holds me when I cry, and I can't imagine crying and him not being there.
I know we won't end up together. I know we will have to break up eventually. I know I shouldn't stay somewhere where there is no progress. But I just can't leave right now. I love him too much.
My hearts a little broken, but how much more broken would it be if we weren't together?

One Year Ago

It was a Sunday night, around 6:45 pm. My two friends and I had all had bad weeks. Whether that be because of fights with parents or getting in trouble at school, we were ready to escape the drama. So we decided to go see “The Guardians – Owls of GaHoole”. It was going to be a night full of popcorn, silly cartoons, and relaxation, after a hard week for all of us. But really, how often do things go the way they're supposed to go?
Of course, the way all good stories go, this one has some foreshadowing. I thought Clarissa was 18, and she wasn't quite yet.When I discovered I was disobeying my parents as well as breaking my provisional, I got a little nervous. I remember saying, “We just can't get pulled over. It'll be okay. We're almost there anyway.” As we pulled up to to a red light next to a cop, I got nervous again. I asked, “Is everyone's seatbelt on? There's a cop.” So we all fixed our seat belts and impatiently waited for the red light to turn, to escape the cop's eyes.
The light turned green. Listening to “Like a G6”, I turned from the New Seward onto 36th. I didn't make the turn before Liz gasped. “Destinee, Oh my God!” I looked at what she was looking at, directly out her window. A huge black F250 speeding towards my little red Ford Escort.
Doing some quick thinking, I realized there was nothing I could do to avoid being hit. Liz tried to grab my steering wheel, but that was turning us closer to the other vehicle. In the heat of the moment, I slapped her and slammed on my breaks, right as this black monster rammed into my car. We spun in circles towards the other side of the road, almost hitting a pole, while all the windows shattered in on us.
When my car finally screeched to a halt, I started screaming. I was sure something had impaled my chest, it hurt so bad. It took a moment, but I realized the wind was just knocked out of me from my airbag. I thought for a moment, while still screaming. I was responsible for two other girls at this point. Were they okay? I looked to my right, at Liz, sobbing. “She's hurt, but she's okay,” I remember thinking. Looking in my back seat at Clarissa is when I really got scared. Her head was flopped down, her chin to her chest. I started sobbing, so sure she was dead on impact. Suddenly her head lifted up, and she said something. Immediately I felt so blessed. No matter what, we had all made it, and that seemed to be a feat in itself.
A few seconds later, it seemed everyone and their mother was running to the windows of my car. “I called the police!” echoed through my ears. Someone said to me, “Sweetheart, you need to get out of the car.” Realizing we were all probably a little hurt, I remembered something my Mom had taught me. “But you're not supposed to get out of the car after an accident!”, I said. They reassured me that they knew, but that my car looked as if it was about to catch on fire. That was enough for me, and we were out of the car, with Liz having to be pulled out of the window because of how smashed in her side was.
Right here, I have a pretty level head. I realize I need to call my Mom, so I do. I clearly tell her that my car is totaled, that Liz and Clarissa are in the car with me, and that I'm on New Seward and 36th. That she needs to come now. I start to look over the girls, making sure they're safe. They both have blood on them, and are crying. I know the cops are on the way, so I try to get them to sit down next to me. A man came up to us and told us to sit down. “You're bleeding.” I looked down at my hands, blood splattered on them. Then realized there was a dull ache in my left knee. He lifted up my pant leg to check it out, and I saw my knee cap exposed. My level head went right out the window, and I started screaming. “I don't want to see it! I don't want to see it!” I cried. “She doesn't want to see it, pull her pant leg down!” Liz yelled at the man. I panicked, and called my Mom sobbing. “There's blood! Blood is everywhere! I'm covered in blood!” The paramedics showed up, taking the phone out of my hands. Reassuring my poor parents that I was alright and that they were taking all precautions necessary. They begin strapping us all to stretchers. And that was when all the parents showed up.
“Liz! Liz! Liz!”, I heard Liz's mom sob. “Where is she?!” Laying on the stretcher, I remember pointing vaguely to my right.
The rest is just a lumpy blur of a night. My Mom holding my hand. The paramedics cutting open my pants, and me screaming. The ambulances driving us to the hospital; me getting stitches and medicine for an infection already starting in my knee. A million phone calls because Liz had sent out a mass text informing people we were in an accident, but not that we were okay. My best friends showing up to the hospital, shaken up. The cop coming to see me and telling me I turned on a red arrow but green light. That if I hadn't slammed on the breaks, Liz would have died. That we were unbelievably close and so, so lucky. Talking my way out of a ticket. Going home, sobbing.
We were all okay. Liz had a slight concussion and torn ligaments in her knee, Clarissa has a scar from her seatbelt. My knee was trashed. We all hurt, but it wasn't nearly what it could have been, should have been. That was unbelievable to me.
Being so close to losing my friends, and possibly my own life, really changed me as a person. Driving is no longer leisurely for me,. I didn't drive for 6 months after the accident, and now I'm constantly panicking and always watching. I became a little more serious, a little more grown up. I valued the little things more. I am so grateful for those two little inch miracles, and I watch for them every day.

My Maybe Baby.

"You may get through it, but you will never get over it."

I have been struggling with the decision to write about this, but I need to get it out somehow. It's time for me to write it out, and maybe that will finally help me get over it. Maybe I will be able to not think about it for a day or two. This post has been sitting for 4 months, and maybe once every week or two I'll add something more. Delete something out. Try to explain how I feel, but I don't know how to. So I'm sorry if it's jumbled and sucks, but it's what I've got and I'm going with it.

The Friday before graduation I was hanging out with my boyfriend. Laying in bed together. Whispering sweet nothings and saying I love you's. I got up, fully clothed, to see blood on the bed where I was laying. This type of thing had been happening for a while. I chalked it up to just being a really weird period. However, I had been bleeding for over two weeks. So, Matt told me I needed to call and make a doctors appointment.

I called and scheduled an appointment for one week later, the following Friday. The receptionist asked what I was coming in for, and when I explained she put me on hold. Next thing I know, I'm talking to a case manager who's telling me I need to come in today. That maybe I should be in the E.R. To come in right now. She uses other scary words, too. "Chlamydia... Gonorrhea... Cervical Infection..."

I didn't want to go in, at all. I felt like this was being blown out of proportion. Matt decided to come with me, and we drove right to the hospital. I told him I wanted to go back alone, so he stayed in the waiting room. I explained what was going on to the nurse and she had me do a urine test and a swab test. Then the doctor came in and I explained one more time.

"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?"
"No, not really. I mean, I'm having a period. So no."
"Well, you did test positive for pregnancy today....."
(She continues to talk but I don't remember what was said)
"I'm sorry, I'm not listening to anything you're saying right now."
"Your boyfriend is here, right?"
"Yeah, he's in the waiting room."
"Would you like me to go get him?"
"Yes please."

Matt and I have been dating for not quite three months at this point. Pregnancy is not something either of us were hoping for, and I'm terrified of what he's going to say. I don't think I can tell him, but he knows right away. He guesses. He sits down and holds my hand, while the doctor explains that the bleeding probably isn't a good sign, but that we need to do a blood draw to see how far along the potential pregnancy is. She leaves, and Matt and I are now alone. I can't stop laughing, not because it's funny, but because I'm scared shitless. Matt is SO. CALM. Holding my hand, telling me we'll be all right. I'm pacing. Trying to call one of the girls. No one's answering. Finally I get ahold of Rachel, and she's on the way. And then Alison too.

And then we're all in the room together, wondering what this means. And then they're drawing my blood. And then we wait, and talk, for an hour. And then the nurse comes in and hands me an appointment for an ultrasound, and tells me my HCG level is 171. Low, but there.

We all leave but the doctor calls me back on my own to talk to me about...it. About getting it taken care of. She gives me some phone numbers of financing places and such. I never really told anyone because I wasn't 100% sure, but in that moment, I wanted it out. Gone. I didn't want to deal with it.

We all go to Red Robin and Matt is still SO CALM AND IT'S KILLING ME. I want to freak out, but I want to freak out together. We talk about the potential baby and the girls just assume if it's a real pregnancy I'll keep it. They just assume that in maybe 8-9 months, I'll have a kid. That does not sound appetizing to me, and I'm freaking out.

The next night I'm bleeding a lot. I'm sitting on the toilet and blood is just falling out of me, and I'm sure I'm miscarrying. But something doesn't feel right, and so I call my sister who has me come over. She says something doesn't look right, so we go to the Emergency Room. Everything's okay, but I'm miscarrying. 113. Suddenly, it all did matter, and I'm sad about it.

I call Matt and we spend Monday in bed together, talking. I had had another appointment that morning to make sure I was miscarrying normally, and was waiting for a phone call to make sure. While laying in bed, I got the call. Still somehow, somewhere, pregnant. 196. I'm terrified, because these “ups and downs aren't normal.” I'm graduating today.

Another appointment on Wednesday. 326. “Not doubling the way it should.” “Not a healthy pregnancy.” “Medicated abortion necessary, today if possible.” No. Not today, I can't make a decision that fast. Tomorrow morning? “This could be a serious condition, it looks like a tubal pregnancy.”

Another day spent in bed with Matt, him holding me, me sobbing. “I wanted it. I wanted it. I would have kept the baby.” My heart broke in a way I cannot even describe, and finally I decided I wouldn't do it. I would wait it out, because I couldn't imagine dealing with having done that every day for the rest of my life. Matt stood by my decision. We talk about names, and what we'll tell our parents, and what we're going to do if this ends up being real, even though we know there's no real chance.

I see a specialist who doesn't know what's going on. He can't explain it, except for a tubal pregnancy. I go in every 2 days, and the numbers are rising extremely slow. My heart breaks more for the baby I know won't be mine.

Eventually the numbers start to drop. Slowly. Not fast enough, and I'm still bleeding. But they give me the okay to go to Hawaii, because now we know I'm miscarrying. I go to Hawaii for ten days and am bleeding the whole time, which puts my bleeding at 6 weeks.

I get home and we start to plan a D&C. It's planned, when finally I stop bleeding, making the surgery unneccesary. It's all over, but for some reason this pregnancy being over hurts more than anything.

Having a baby wasn't and isn't part of my plan right now. It would suck. But every day, thinking back about the 4 weeks when I thought about being a mother breaks my heart. It hurts so bad. Matt and I are doing amazing, and having a baby definitely wouldn't have been benificial to our relationship. But for some reason, knowing that doesn't make not having our baby hurt any less. It's hard to explain... But I don't want another baby. I want to graduate college and get married before it's time for that. I just wanted that baby, in that moment.

Life goes on, and things are great for me right now. I love Matt more than anything. School is great. Honestly I am so happy right now... But I can't stop thinking about it.

Matt

Matt.
I can't sleep.
We've been to hell and back. Honestly if a relationship could go worse in the first four months, I don't know how...
Yet under the worst of circumstances, I suppose I fell in love.
I did. I fell in love with you. With the way you take care of me. With your smile. With your pathetic jokes and how every time I say "Guess what?" You say "Chicken Butt?", even though you know that's not it. I love the little things. How well you know me. How when you made me dinner, you cut the crust off my bread because you know I don't like it. The fact that you'll surprise me and drive me an hour and a half to my favorite ice cream place. That you will hold me while I cry and tell me it's all okay.
You really have stood by me through it all. I don't know how we've managed to keep this relationship going through everything we've been through, but together we're strong. Together we're unstoppable.
I don't know how long this will last, if you're going to leave and join the military, or if we're always going to be like this. All I know is that I think you're wonderful. I can't imagine these past few months without you. I don't know how I could have done it.
Thank you so much, for being you. You are amazing. I love you.

What is Love?

What is love, anyways? How do we know when we've found it?

Is it the moment when you first imagine that person in your life, for forever and always, and it seems like the best plan you've ever had?

Is love the moment you can't imagine your life without that person?

Is it the moment you commit? The day when you decide that he's the one, no matter what, and you'll spend forever with him no matter what comes your way?

You hear of people who fall in love after two weeks. Two weeks, and they know.
And it's real.

Then you hear of the people who date for years, and years, and years.
And then they break up.

What is love?

I want to be in love. I want to be in love so badly it hurts. I feel the desire in my hands, when I walk with out that someone special by me. I feel it at night, when no one wraps their arms around me. I feel it breaking me a little every time I see someone else in love.

But I don't want to rush it. I want it to be perfect. I want the kisses to be knee buckling. I want my heart to pound right out of my chest. I want it to be comfortable, to feel like coming home. I want it to be right.

But for now, I'm trying not to fall in love. I'm pushing it away. I don't know if it's because I'm waiting for it to be right... or because I'm scared that it'll happen and I won't be ready... or if I'm scared that it won't happen and I'll be alone.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing it wrong.
Sometimes I wonder if I should just let loose, and see what happens.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll end up alone.

I feel like no matter what I do, my heart will break. Either someone will break it for me, or I'll end up alone and it will break of loneliness. I just don't know which one will hurt me less.

I want to be in love.
But what is love, anyways?

Kiss and Tell

Last night, I was trying to list all the boys I've ever kissed. I knew I was forgetting one. Someone said to me, "When you can't remember everyone you've kissed is when you become a slut..." They said it as a joke. They weren't serious. But somehow, it got to me.

Today Justin and i broke up. It was very mutual and we decided to be friends. It doesn't hurt. And so I wonder, is that bad? We went out for three months and hung out as if were dating for the month before that. Four months, and breaking up doesn't hurt. I feel like maybe I lost my capabilities to fall in love when Tyler fell out of love with me. Maybe, one really horrible break up makes it so you can never move on.

I still feel broken over it sometimes. Not over Skylar. Not over Justin. Over Tyler. We weren't meant to be, we shouldn't be together, we never will again. Yet sometimes I wonder what I'd say if he came back. I wonder if my heart still belongs to him. Normally I say no. But sometimes... sometimes, I wonder.

So, I've been thinking... Mainly because I feel like I need to think about who I am, and what I want in a boy.... And if I'm even okay with everything going on in my heart. Or my head. Or really, the fact that I'm just not feeling anything....

Eight Boys. Eight Boys who's lives I've touched, in some small way. Eight boys who had some small connection with me. Eight boys who have changed my life, some in huge ways and some in small ones.

So, to :
Marcus Mikowski
Joe Trull
Tyler Houston
Turner Rodgers
Brandon Jones
Patric Catalano
Skylar King-Strang
Justin Luiten

For better or for worse, boys. You all have changed me and molded me into the girl I am woman I'm becoming. For better or for worse, I am who I am, a big part of it because of you. So thank you for the steps you helped me take. And thank you for times I fell because you pushed me. I am stronger, I am more confident. I am capable. I gave you each a piece of me, some a very small piece and some, part of my heart. Some of you have hurt me, and some of you I've hurt. But we learn, we grow, we change. So thank you for everything. I don't regret any of you.

Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance, But Sometimes So is "I'm Sorry"

I have had four best friends throughout my high school career. Four girls who I, to this day, love more than anything. Four wonderful, smart, beautiful young women with their lives ahead of them.
These four girls have been my guiding path, my light in the dark, band-aids to my heart. These four girls have been there through it all. Until very recently. And I feel so alone without them.

Emily Elizabeth Ferrari-

I cannot tell you how much I regret when it comes to our friendship. I feel so responsible for the path you walk. You were doing so well, you were recovering. And I made the ridiculous assumption that you could handle anything. That we were the same. We smoked together, a total of four times. If I could take back anything in our friendship, that would be it. You had been doing so well, and those times smoking together, I believe, brought you back into that lifestyle. My decision to smoke with you in turn made you comfortable using again. Which in turn led you to cocaine. Now I miss you more than ever and I feel like you're gone. I call you and you don't answer. I so badly want my Emu back, but I feel like you're lost. And I feel like that's my fault. I'm so sorry.

Alison Leigh Boring-

Out of all the girls, you were the one I knew I'd lose. Ever since our sophomore year, you've been relationally obsessed, or in love, or however you want to say it. You clung to our friendship when you didn't want to be friends. You lied, and often, about when you were allowed to hang out. When I spoke with people about college and you leaving, 4/5 would respond with “Yeah, but Alison's already basically gone anyways”. You've judged my life when you were making equally as bad of decisions. And so I'm letting you go, and I'm trying to do it civilly. You have an amazing life in front of you, and so do I. However, our lives aren't the same. I love having girl friends. You don't need me, or the other girls. And frankly you haven't been present in our lives for the past year + anyways. I will always love you and be there for you if you need me. But I don't need you. I'm really sorry it turned out this way, but it's for the best. I hope your life is filled with happiness and that you laugh more than you cry, and that you are abundantly blessed.

Elizabeth Alexandria Smith-

Darling Liz. So much has happened over the course of our friendship. We've had so many “firsts” together. I care about you so much, but our friendship seems difficult lately. I nearly killed you, Liz. I don't know if that's something I can get over. I can still hear you yelling “Destinee, Oh My God!” and Like a G6 in the background. I can still feel my car being smashed with you in my passenger seat. Since then things have been different. I feel like I need to take care of you, like I'm responsible. I can't imagine losing my Liz. Since then, I feel like you've been sadder. Like you're stressed. Maybe even like you're angry at me. I am so sorry for what happened. I should have been more responsible, I should have been more careful. I'm sorry Liz.

Rachel Ann Jones-

You've always answered your phone when I call, or called me back. This past month I have been less than the desireable friend to you. I am so sorry for not always being there like I should, and for sometimes being selfish in our friendship. This month has been crap for all of us, but I threw myself a mini-pity-party. I focused only on how hurt I was, how much I lost instead of looking at it from your shoes, or anyone elses. I'm so sorry that I wasn't the best friend I'm supposed to be.


Sometimes goodbye is a second chance. Sometimes opportunities grow through the pain and mistakes. Sometimes amazing lessons are learned through heartache. Something good is coming for us all, girls. I can feel it. I love you all so much, no matter where life has taken us. Thank you for this journey of friendship.

Wake Me Up When September Ends...

September Sucked.

I got expelled from the school I've been at since junior high. My small private school. i had to switch schools in the middle of my senior year, to a school where I knew hardly anyone and didn't know how the teachers ran their classes. Still don't.

I got into a horrible car accident and almost killed one of my best friends, myself, and another friend. Totaled my car. Have no way of getting around. Injured my knee pretty badly and now have a limp.

Yes, that's right. I started a brand new school walking about with a limp. I look like I have a disability.

So basically, in the procession of September, I lost my group of girls, my mode of transportation, my physical capability, my comfort zone, and all my money will be going to saving for a new car.

I know I'm lucky to be okay. But it sucks a lot right now.
And no one seems to get that.




I'll write more detailed posts later about each event.

Just in case you were wondering...

I will be back, and soon.

I'm very busy dealing with life but will be updating in a week or so :)

I don't know what to say.

I don't hate that I did it, because I've grown so much through having to deal with it.
I know it was wrong, and if I could do it over I would. But my faith is stronger now, because of these trials. And my family is stronger now, able to withstand more. I as a person am more understanding and gracious.

I don't hate that I'm suspended, because I know that no matter how long ago it happened, it still happened. And I was wrong.

I don't hate the school, because I know that they're just trying to do what's best for the school.

But I hate that this is gone for me. I hate that my safe haven was taken from me. My voice used against me. I hate that they took away something I love ever so much. I hate that I can no longer write.

I wrote this blog for myself. To help myself deal with emotions so strong they were breaking me. To get my feelings out. This blog was written to help me cope. But it can't be that anymore.

I hate that this is going to have to be my last post. At least for now, for a couple weeks. Because my thoughts cannot just be my thoughts.

Singularity, Senior Year and the De-Complicatedness-Ing of My Life.

Once apon a time, I was a wee one.



I was a little girl who played and was silly. I didn't think much about who I was, as a human being. I had a wonderful, loving family, and toys. And that was all that mattered.



...Then I grew up.



Now, I don't know who I am. There are so many different sides of me, I get lost trying to stick to one.

Sometimes, I'm single.



... Sometimes I'm not.



Sometimes I feel as if I'm country at heart.



And then I remember how preppy I am and how much I love the city.



Sometimes, I feel all maternal and cannot wait to grow up and be a mother.



Sometimes, I never want to grow up and love being a crazy, reckless teen.




Sometimes, I cook, or am crafty and domestic.



(yes, i homemade that pizza. even the crust. and made that lampshade. even the frame.)



...Sometimes I just am so not.



But no matter what the world tries to shape me into....



I'm still me. And that's what matters, right?



Maybe I'll grow up and be a midwife, a teacher, a nurse. Maybe I'll be a stay at home mom. Maybe I'll travel the world. Maybe I'll stay right here in good old AK. I don't know what the future holds, and frankly, I'm trying not to stress it. God has a plan and a purpose. It's gonna fall into place no matter what I do. So for now, I stop being paranoid about my future. I've got ten days of summer left. Then, I've got one year of high school. I'm not going to stress the details. it doesn't really matter where I go to school. It doesn't really matter where I live 20 years from now. None of it matters. I'm going to sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. Or else none of it will be meaningful, anyways. I'm going to have the best year ever... I'm going to enjoy every last minute with my family. I'm going to make crazy memories with my best friends. I'm going to stay single, and just enjoy being me. As complicated and confusing as that can be. I'm going to love my life.

My Girls

Elizabeth Alexandria Smith

Rachel Ann Jones

Emily Elizabeth Ferrari

Alison Leigh Boring


Sometimes we fight. Sometimes we don't get along. Sometimes, we're bitches. Sometimes we're not there for each other when we need to be. Sometimes we say the wrong things. Sometimes, we say the right thing at the wrong time. Sometimes we talk behind each other's backs. Sometimes we don't know what to say, how to help. Sometimes it's hard to forgive each other and move on.

But always and forever, we will care about each other. Always and no matter what, if one of us truly needed the others, we would all be there.
These girls are my support, my backbone, my strength. These girls have held me when I cried and picked me up at 2 a.m to support me. These girls have said "I don't know what to say, but you're strong and you can do this." when I didn't know how I would. These girls have drawn me pictures and written me letters to encourage me. They've stayed on the phone all night with me.
No matter what shit we go through. No matter who says what. No matter how hard it is to keep our friendships going.
Ladies, you are my forever friends, my bosom buddies, my best friends. My soul mates in friendship form.

Thank you for everything. I know I don't say that enough. Thank you for being there.

Home Sweet Alaska - The Last Frontier

I grew up in eternal winter. Sledding September through March. I grew up in a city where, in July, it was once recorded to be 38 degrees. Fahrenheit. Where we get an average of 69.5 inches of snow a year. I grew up camping all summer long. Boating and fishing. Wearing sweatshirts in the summer, yes, but being up til 2, 3 a.m because it was still light out. I grew up with moose in my backyard often and bears digging through my garbage occasionally. I've eaten moose roasts and shot a gun and seen whales jump in the WILD. I've always had huge, gorgeous mountains surrounding me. Good hikes just a few miles away. It's beautiful, right out my window. I love it here. Winters are shit ...Difficult. Long. Dark. But my family is here. How can I leave this place?

How can I not?
I have dreams. And as much as I love my home state, can I accomplish them here? Can I be successful at good ole' University of Alaska Anchorage? Will I be able to build my character and person living in the same house as my lovely but pushy Mother? Is it possible for me to really become a woman here?
I wish. I hope. Maybe.
But most likely, I will end up stuck in loads of student debt so I can venture out and grow and become the me of my dreams. Most likely, I will leave this love-it-but-hate-it state and go somewhere with not enough snow and extremely hot (85 is hot...) summers. Somewhere I'll be scared out of my size 24 jeans in a new place with no one I know... But that's how it's going to happen. That's how I'm going to feel okay with studying abroad and changing the world and having a career I can travel the world with. That's how I'll meet someone equally as crazy and globally-minded as me, marrying him, eventually adopting kids from impoverished countries and raising them to be travelers and adventurers and explorers.
Because how can I ever hope to travel the world if I don't even want to leave the state for college? How can I ever raise little multi-cultural children to wander and discover if I'm scared to do it? I can't. So I have to face my fears. Physical, Mental, Financial. I have to face my fears and cry and be homesick until I'm amazing and cultured and experienced. Until all my friends wish they had gone out of state, too. (:

My trip

I love this trip. I loved Washington, Oregon, Colorado and New York.
I've seen some great schools and had some awesome experiences.
But this trip is about self discovery.
And through this trip, I've discovered something.
I need to be on my own. Need. Not want.
I'm glad I have this last year and that I will be able to be with my family... BUT.
But I am thriving on this trip. I like me better here. Away from distractions, away from my normal life.
I don't know if I'll end up at one of these colleges, out of my home state, but I do know that I need to be on my own.
I know that I can succeed. But I can't do it at home.
I'm drowning there.

Tired.

Today sucked. I am worn out, exhausted, weary, and just not up to much. I just want to fall asleep and not wake up til I'm done learning things the hard way and making mistakes to learn lessons that shape my character. I'm so tired. I'm tired of feeling as if I call a friend I am inconveniencing them. I'm tired of feeling the need to be crazy and push myself to feel alive. Im tired of being optimistic. I'm ready for change.

But it was a good day too. The end of my day was pretty fantastic. I ate icecream and walked on trails and saw ducks. I watched a movie with my Mom and downloaded new music and took a nap. So as much as today sucked, as hard as it was, I'm so thankful that there was a bright spot.

I leave on my college trip tomorrow. 16 days, and I'll be seeing my Dad for the first time in 3 years. I need to get away, to take a break from my everyday life. I need this.

Smashed Vehicle.

I love my car. It's small and red and has a sun roof. It drives fast and gets good gas milage. I adore it. Today, I even wrote in a note on facebook how much I love my car. However, I also wrote in said note about how scared I am of hitting something, and the greek gods or Jesus or whoever's in charge of shitty lessons that need learned decided that I loved my car too much.
I help my sister out sometimes. I take my niece out, we go to the park or Bouncin Bears or the lake and we play for a couple hours and eat icecream so Danielle can focus on the baby. I love it, my niece Valley loves it, Danielle loves it. But today when Valley and I were out, she got really sick and started crying. So i went to take her home. When I was pulling into the parking garage at the apartment complex, (into a really tight space that happens to have huge giant poles right next to it?) Valley suddenly starts screaming. I freaked out and turned the wheel all the way to the right while turning to see if she's okay... and hit my lovely baby car right into the pole. Where it got stuck. And every time I tried to move forward or backward, all I could hear was the sickening crunch of my right door and back end being smashed. Now my car is hurt and needs surgery, which I'm going to have to pay for. (AKA a new door and the back end buffed out and a paint touch up).
At first I was freaking out and I cried for like an hour. Bawled, actually. But I posted on facebook and people helped me keep it in perspective...
-No one was hurt. Valley is safe, I am safe.
-I can still drive the car while I save the money for repairs, it's not totalled.
-My first "accident" is behind me.
-My Mom isn't mad at me.
-No other cars were involved, so I don't have to deal with that.
-Did I mention that me and my niece are still alive? Because wow. I'm so glad I didn't get into a really bad accident and kill us both, or hurt her, or another driver.

So yeah. My car is hurt, I have to figure out how to pay for repairs, and right now it looks pretty ugly and I feel like white trash driving it, but I'm still alive, and no ones hurt (except for my car). And that is something to be truly grateful for.

Homemade Happiness

3 or so weeks ago, my friend Rachel and I were hanging out. I was mad because my Mom wouldn't let me go out to eat with my friends. (Grounded, remember?) So I was throwing a fit about it and insisting she cook me dinner. Rachel, I'm sure, was annoyed.
So she insisted we cook dinner.
We loved it. We loved working with our hands, being in the kitchen, having a delicious finished product that everyone enjoyed.
So we did it again, the next Sunday.
And then we did it again.
Now, we're cooking once a week, and Rachel's blogging about it over at:

www.homemadehappiness18.blogspot.com

Hop on over there and read about our adventures, once a week, every week.

He's Just Not That In To You.

I used to play. Barbies, Babydolls. I used to fantasize about weddings and families and being swept off my feet by Mr. Right. I've watched a million girly romantic comedies, hoping that someday someone would do something just as sweet for me. I used to be thirteen, fourteen, fifteen... waiting, hoping that "this" was it. That he was HIM.

But it never was. I've dated, but never had the romance of it all. Even in a near 2 year relationship, it was never romantic. it was more practical. I've received flowers twice from boys (and one of those times was because I asked for them for Valentines Day when it was asked what I wanted). I've never been on a real date.

I'm not complaining, but I think I may be settling. Or maybe I'm just growing up. Or maybe, I'm finally facing reality.

The romance is dead.

I quit waiting around to fall head over heels. I'm done wishing for sweethearts. I quit hoping that boys will have cute, surprisingly romantic gestures for me. I'm done waiting for Prince Charming to bring me back my god damn slipper I threw right in front of his face. I'm done waiting for someone to say "Oh, I'll get it" to the check.

I want reliable, dependable. I want someone who actually wants me. But maybe, to find that, I need to get rid of my fantasies.

I give up on romance, because even if it does exist, somewhere, my chick flicks have taught me one thing.

When it comes to life...
There is a rule. And there is an exception.
But the exception is just that - it's the exception.
And I am always going to be the rule.

298 Days.

I'm 17 years old.
I know it will all work out.
Just, sometimes I wonder.
I wonder how on earth I can go from this to being a happy... woman.
To being a woman, period.

I'm 17 years old.
Some days, I want to grow up and be married and have a family and just be fabulously happy.

But I wonder, how on earth am I going to get there? How can I go from broken hearted, silly teenager to adult? How does that transition happen? How am I supposed to, in three or five or seven or however many years, have a husband and then eventually a family and do all these happy grown-up things and be on my own? how am I supposed to go to college and be responsible for my own bills and do all my own laundry and vacuuming and cooking?

I think it's easier if you have someone transitioning with you. For the girls bringing their serious boyfriend with them to college, for the person who has someone to help them through it. For the kid whose parents have their college fully paid for. For the people with the twin. But I'm just me, alone, by myself. And very soon, I'm going to be all grown up and facing the real world. Which terrifies me.

In 298 days, I'm going to be legally an adult. I'll be able to open my own blockbuster account and get my own place and go to strip clubs and buy my own plane tickets and claim NOT A DEPENDENT on my taxes and get a credit card. I just have no clue how to be an adult. I have no idea how I'm going to go from me, now, here... to grown up. Adult. Alone.

I'm 17 years old.
298 days til doom day.

Peeing on Plastic Sticks.

Last night I had an awful nightmare.
Teen Pregnancy...
Is not something I want to experience ever, to say the least.

So even though it's practically impossible. Even though I've taken the necessary precautions. Even though it's been way longer than a month.

Today, I made that awful trip to WalMart.

I went into that uncomfortable section, standing next to women grabbing two or three different colored boxes, women looking anxious and hopeful... Myself looking paranoid and sick to my stomach.

I went into the bathroom, and I peed on that plastic stick.

I then waited for three god-awful minutes, imagining all my life plans being flushed down the toilet i was sitting on.

...The stick came up with one line, thank God.

But it made me feel really grateful for how lucky I've been. I'm lucky that all my teen-like excursions have ended with little heartbreak. I've never been pulled over while inebriated, I've never had to deal with sticky situations such as what on earth I'm going to do with a kid. I haven't had the cops called on me. I haven't been kicked out of any store, theater, or my house. (And I've probably deserved it plenty).

So thank you, universe, fate, Jesus, whoever is in control of teenagers and punishment. Thank you for having all my punishment for stupid crazy dumb things be at home, and manageable. Thank you that my punishments don't last me 18+ years.

Thank you that my pee sticks have all had one line.



(Not that I think all teen pregnancies are 'punishments'. It's just not something I would choose to bring upon myself).