Tougher Shells

I was talking to my sister tonight, and, probably completely unbeknown to her, I had an epiphany.

Today I had a mini emotional melt down. It was 15 minutes before my Shakespeare class, and I pulled my car into what seemed to be the last parking spot on campus. I sat there for a second, laid my seat back and just silently cried. It wasn't a sob party or a "good cry" but it was just silent tears that slide down my temples and became lost in my hair. Almost exactly two minutes later, I sat my seat up, grabbed my back pack and stepped out into the abyss of cars and people who had no idea that I'd just cried for a whopping two whole minutes in the drivers seat of my car.

On a totally unrelated note to that story, my sister said I needed a tougher shell. She didn't say this condescendingly, jokingly or harshly, but just a passing comment. Tougher? Tougher?! Honestly, I don't even like to shake hands with most people; how can I be tougher? But, she's right. And I realized that tonight.

I need to stop crying. I wouldn't call myself the emotional roller coaster that some girls can be, but I, like the previous story showed, I can cry for a couple minutes over money, school, no parking spots. homework, dirty laundry or a low battery on my lap top right before class. I also cry when I give my shot. I've decided this needs to stop. The latter I mean, sorry to anyone who became all hopeful over the new resolution to obliterate tears over parking. :) Lately, I've been able to take my shot if I had help. That help came in several forms ranging from the security of a hug to a simple picture or a text message. Tonight though I've decided to stop relying on that help. I can do this without needing the help, because sometimes there is no help, and that is not an excuse to stop.

Guess what...I wrote this post and didn't even cry. That's progress, right??

 

In case you wanted to know the parts of a turtle shell.

Barley There

Tonight I register for my 12th semester of my college career. 12..I know, and I'm not even done til I register for my 14th semester. It has been a long road, but my dream hasn't changed for years. I remember in first grade Mrs Stucki asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I froze, and with knocking knees and a head swimming with wordless thoughts, I spluttered that I wanted to be a Post Office person like my mom. That wasn't true, but I loved my mom and wanted to be like her, so that was my default answer. Until about three years later when I fell in love. I savored the taste the word "coon dog" left in my mouth as I came to know where exactly the red fern grows. I didn't know I could be so happy until I met Harry, Ron and Hermione; little did I know the journey that would take me on. I learned to be grateful for the people in my life by reading about the hells Jane Eyre lived through. I remember sitting "my carcass" in my desk in Mrs Pugmire's class and thinking I want to read The Wind in the Willows forever. Every since then I've wanted to study English, and it wasn't till my perspective on people, race, love and hate was revolutionized during a class discussion of To Kill a Mockingbird that I knew I wanted to teach others about acceptance, love, siblings and differences between people. Years later I watched Jenny, a 9th grader straight from Africa who was learning a new language, school, family and culture, explain that Esperanza from The House on Mango Street gave her hope that she can still be African and American. For the past 13 years all I've wanted to do is teach English to a bunch of teenagers because I love the literature, and I love the kids.

Yes, it has taken me a while to get through school, and I still have a ways to go, but I'm proud of my desire to teach. Tonight, I didn't feel so proud though. During a shamefully embarrassing discussion of math where I tried to multiply 9X9 to equal 89 and then 8X8 magically equaled 36 in my mind, I explained that I may not be able to multiply but I can write a pretty poem about math. Overhearing this conversation, a bystander responded: That won't put food in your mouth. I defended my love by simply saying that you can make a living by teaching. The response: Barely.

Ouch.

Don't misunderstand, these comments were not made with malicious intent, but quite honestly it made me sad. The average salary for a teacher is 34,000$--chump change to some--which is 50,000$ less than he'll be making but does that make my career choice of lesser value? I could one day be teaching his future children! A career that seems to be barely a career is entrusted with the future children, but here it is just barely a career.

I don't have presentations about venture capitalists, and I am not sought after for internships that pay three times my future salary, but that doesn't mean I will have any less of a career. In fact, I'll teach the children of those venture capitalists about racism, love, death and God, so before you scorn my future, you better understand that I am not studying to be rich--I'm studying to do what I love and have loved since my dad first read to me the heart wrenching story of a boy and his two dogs.

Sincerly,
your child's future teacher

The Mostest Happiest

A lot can happen in 6 months...

...the Earth takes half a turn around the Sun.
...a Baboon can have one baby from conception to birth.
...a Mouse can have 10 pregnancies.
...Subway grosses 222,000.00$.
...your heart can literally grow two sizes too big.

Okay, that last one might not be scientifically true, but this is my blog so I can state whatever fact I want, and I'm saying a heart can grow! A lot has changed in my life in the last six months. I went from being simply content to exceedingly happy. I learned to keep secrets...well, kinda sorta. I woke up to a beautiful 4th of July morning. I had wonderful conversation at a Bees game in July. I enjoyed the Schmidt reunion more this year. I catered a wedding where the least stressful thing were the cupcakes. I gave some foot rubs and got some back. I learned a lot about football. I came to love the Squaw Peak lookout. I went to a doctor appointment without anxiety because I wasn't alone. Zupas is now my favorite place for multiple reasons. Even if you get poked in the eye it can still be an amazing time.

And flowers can make me smile so much my cheeks hurt.

Softy at Heart

Tonight I read some of my past posts lately, and I realized I am a very sappy girl. Some of what I post may not make sense to anyone but me, but most of what I post is dripping in sweet. And guess what, I don't even care! I post what I need to write, and lately I need to write about good things in my life, so, to who ever might be reading my blog, sorry not sorry for the sappiness. I love it.

I need to write about my day:

1-I hate Spanish. I love my time at BYU, but each semester I fill up 4 credits with Spanish. The BYU English department is one of the best English programs in the Nation, and I am filling my semester up with lo/le/se/le when I could be taking Adolescent Literature from Christopher Crowe or learning about post-modern American literature, but, alas, I am learning about the difference between alli and alla.

2-I get all nervous with goodbyes. Whether it is one day or one month, I get all emotionless and just rush through it. After, I regret it and wish I would have given one last hug or smile. #sociallyinept

3-Ah, finances. I did some math today. Shocking, I know! I've been to 12 semesters of school, 50 months of rent, and 4 literature Anthologies. Let's work this out.

12 semesters X 2,300 tuition=27,600

50 months X 300 avg rent-15,000

12 semesters X 200 books=2,400

GRAND TOTAL= 45,000$

I am so grateful that I go to a private school that charges a small fraction of what other private school charge. Also, I am grateful I have a roof over my head, heat in the winter and, well, windows that open in the summer. And I love my books more than I love most people. With that being said, I should be grateful that I've only had to take out a small amount in student loans in order to get where I am. If I could do that math, I would tell you the percentage, but I can't, so we'll just round it a small digit that I should be grateful for instead of crying about. It could be so much worse.

4-Toothpase rubbed on headlights clears them up. For reals. Check it out.

 

5-I'm dying from a cold. In the past six hours it has mass multiplied and will probably turn into strep or broken bones or amputated arms. I'm not even exaggerating.

6-I busted out 4 big assignments tonight. That's an achievement that, if my dad were here, would say deserved a ribbon if he had one.

7-I miss the gym.

8-Google rules the world. Did any of you know that the ads that show up on webpages can be linked to what you searched in google? Well, it can. :)

9-One thing Idaho doesn't see much of: Taxis and Limos


10-I am a mix of emotions: excited and nervous, sad and worried, but mostly just happy. Very, very happy to be so blessed in so many ways.

Some Nights

Some nights I realize my life is so very good.

I got a poem tonight, and it was better than any gift I've ever received.

Some nights, I wish I could just sit and smile because my dreams aren't as good as reality.

Because lately I've been dreaming about Zombies....