She's Getting Married, You're Having A Baby, and I'm Just Trying to Graduate College.

Maybe there's something in the air? In the water? Whatever it is, it's started an epidemic. Wedding season, take a seat...BABY SEASON has arrived, in all sorts of dysfunctional stupidity. Maybe it's because I'm from a "small town," but I have come across more and more people that I went to high school with, married and pregnant, most commonly just the latter.

Don't get me wrong, I understand the want to have all of these things, but what I don't understand is the need to A) do all of this before you're even twenty-one years old and B) do these in the opposite order (traditionally speaking). This confusion is probably derived from my somewhat conservative mindset, but nonetheless, even if I was more liberal with my thoughts, I'd still think it was stupid and irrational. Not to toot my own horn, but I've always thought of myself as mature for my age, both in the understanding of life and my actions; therefore, sitting here picturing myself pregnant is almost like looking at one of those Disney World caricatures because of the obscenity. I change my mind about my future monthly, I still ask my parents for help, and no matter what job I attain, it wouldn't be sufficient enough to support a child in the way that one should be taken care of. Having a kid isn't like having a dog: you have to do more than just feed them and take them to pee.

However, I bet it's safe to guess that most of these women received their new mommy titles by pure luck, or should I dare say misfortune? I know this entry is coming off pretty harsh, but the whole idea is a bit much for me to wrap my head around (insert sarcastic voice now) and hey, maybe that's why I wasn't lucky enough to be pregnant at 19. They're raising children all before they can: legally consume alcohol, rent a hotel room, and rent a car- I hope you girls don't plan on vacationing anytime soon because you'll have no place to stay, nor way to get there. Then again, you could just sleep in your own car- nice and cozy is always a plus especially with a crying infant! I'm probably a horrible person for writing that.

Ok, disregarding my attempt at being funny in the previous paragraph, I do realize things happen not according to plan, but I also realize there's ways of preventing that. I know I probably shouldn't completely dog these young mothers, and I apologize for coming off "holier than thou." My belief is just simply that you should get an education first, be confident and secure with yourself and your finances, then make the decision to get married and have children. When you're young, you are so prone to making irrational decisions and you're still learning who you are as a person and who you will become. You have your whole life ahead of you to be a good parent- being young is your time to be free and curious, to experience the good and the bad of the world, to lay around and waste away days just because you can. I guess that's my point- people are fast forwarding too soon while they're still young, thus missing their chance to truly understand what it means to LIVE.

To Be Beautiful...

At fourteen, I felt awkward and shy with bushy eyebrows and glasses.
At nineteen, I feel beautiful with my still bushy eyebrows and whenever I wear my glasses (funny coincidence I'm wearing Kitty's grandma's glasses in this picture).

Something that I have learned to appreciate and accept over the past few years though is that being pretty is only skin deep. Every day I interact with pretty people, but something that is lacking is real beauty; beauty that is not only physical, but can be seen in one's heart and is shared and visible by the rest of the world.

This afternoon I went and bought some new eyeshadow and blush, and when I got home I of course tried them on like a new pair of shoes and had my own fashion show. I was fourteen again. I posed in the mirror like Tyra, pretending to be on ANTM (I had been watching the marathon earlier) and then it hit me again: being just a pretty face is not enough. It's not about how blue my eyes are, or how luscious my lips; it's about the whole package; it's about being beautiful, inside and out. Sometimes I forget that though, being in college and always surrounded by materialistic and shallow twenty and twenty-one year old girls, as well as being subjected to the conformity of trying to be sexy and appealing to all the fratastic boys running around The Plains. It's hard not to fall victim to this vicious game, but all the same I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the attention from time to time. It's nice to have heads turn when you pass by, but that's just not enough for me. One day I'm going to wake up and being pretty is not going to be enough. I mean, why the hell would anyone want that to be enough!? I want people to see who I really am, not just my face. I want people to appreciate me for my good intentions, my beliefs, my intelligence, and my witty (not always, unfortunately) jokes that I crack even when the timing is wrong.

Nothing in vain of course, but the nicest comment I have ever received was from a boy who told me that I wasn't just a pretty face. That meant a lot to me, more than any "you're pretty" comment ever has, and I'll never forget that.

I found this quote from Marie Stopes that reads, "You can take no credit for beauty at sixteen. But if you are beautiful at sixty, it will be your soul's own doing." I'm completely and utterly in love with this. It's by God's grace that we're attractive when we're young, but as Emerson so eloquently states it, "As we grow old, the beauty steals inward." As we get older and hopefully much wiser, we will learn that having beauty is having the ability to love others, both good and bad; to give selflessly; to be pure in thought and heart, and to be genuinely happy with life and its blessings. It's not all about physical aspects, and I'm so tired of seeing girls (some even my friends) think that their pretty faces are going to compensate for their lack of personality and depth. One day it won't, and it will probably be one day sooner than they thought.

Just a little food for thought, I suppose.

To be, or not to be: that is the question.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

- Nelson Mandela

A Collection of Wonderful People (Short Version)

Having some freedom recently has allowed me to sit around and do what I love to do the most: THINK. As of lately, the one thing that has been on my mind the most is people. I've been thinking about the different people that have come in and out of my life, some that I've met only in passing, others that hold a special place in my heart, and even some that are no longer in it. Each, however, has given me something, whether it be memories of a shared adventure, a life lesson, a new perspective, a check off my bucket list, a few words of advice, or even the simplistic gift of a warm smile. No matter what it was, I've gained a lot more in these past twenty years than I have acknowledged.

Being a people person, I yearn for the chance to meet men and women of all walks of life, and I have definitely met quite a few who I catch myself thinking of many a days.

When I was around the age of ten, I met a lady on an airplane whose broken English was almost unbearable. She was from Africa, flying to Minnesota, bringing her grandson and toddler home to their mother. She was seated next to my mom, trying to grasp the concept of baggage claim. After several hours we landed and my mom and I helped her find it, yet to our dismay her luggage had been lost. Now, not only was she in a foreign country, but she was incapable of making decisions. My mom, always the helping hand, talked to the employees and managed to fill out paperwork for this woman, eventually setting the chaos to bay. Although her image is a little fuzzy to me now, I'll never forget the feeling of appreciation that she exalted. She asked for our address, and we left her to find her way. A couple weeks later, we received an envelope in the mail which contained not only a written letter, but a necklace bearing a cross. It was the simplest of gifts, yet also one of the most kind. A couple strangers brought together by being kind to one another. I'll never forget it.

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In seventh grade, I had the privilege of having a teacher that not only taught me middle school math, but taught me even more about life and myself. Her name is Tica Spake, and I can honestly say that she is one of the most kind, most caring, most selfless, and most passionate people I have ever met. The first day I met her, I said a quiet prayer to myself in hopes that she would be my teacher, but little did I know that she would not only become that, but also a role model and today, a friend.

Mrs. Spake always had a way of capturing you, from her gentle words to her infectious smile. I remember one time in particular when I was sick, she asked me to stay after class so that she could speak with me. I remember her telling me that everything was going to be alright, and I instead broke down and cried. She soothed my sobbing and held my hand. I told her that I always have cold hands and her response was simply, "Cold hands, but a warm heart." I'll never forget that. To this day, I still hear her saying that, and I still play that scene in my mind.

Today, I consider her a friend, a mentor. Almost seven years later, she's still in my life, even if it's only for a few minutes every now and then. Through her example, she taught me always to be kind and compassionate for others, to keep God close to my heart, and always strive to do my very best. What started as a typical school year turned into a life long friendship, and I'm incredibly blessed and lucky. I love you, Mrs. Spake.

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Gerald Jones, an angel.
Back in high school when we were all young and catty, there was one person who was not, there was one person who could bring a smile to anyone's face, and that person was Gerald. He had such a heart of gold and was willing to be a friend to any and all. I remember admiring his affection that he gave so selflessly many times during those years. He didn't care where you came from, where you were going, if you had money or not...he cared about you as a person. That's something rare these days, and I'll never forget that. I'll never forget his kindness towards me.

Gerald passed away earlier this month, and although I didn't keep in contact with him after graduating, I would randomly catch myself thinking of him. I regret not going to his funeral, and I regret not letting him know how wonderful he really was and how privileged I was to have even known him. I know that I will always remember his compassion for all people and it's something that will inspire for me for the rest of my life.

They say that only the good die young, and I would have to agree. I don't know why it was his time to go, but I do know Gerald is up in heaven watching down on all his family and friends, still flashing that big 'ole smile. The world lost a great man, but gained an angel in return.

May you rest in peace, sweet Gerald.

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