Narnia Part I

I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to write. I just know it's not going to be a lot. This is just going to be a little reflective over view. (is any body else seriously struggling with motivation lately too?)

ok. Here is the news. I went to Washington DC! It was incredible. I loved every second of it.

Back up. Why did I go? I went because History is my minor in college and I spend a ton of money and time learning about this place, but all I did was read about it. It was no more real to me than Narnia. So. Life got a little rocky again and one morning I woke up with two very clear options for the day; I was either going to have a panic attack, or I was going to buy a plane ticket somewhere. So I called my aunt and did very little "talking into" and the next day we booked our flight!

It was incredible having her by my side on this trip. I think her expectations were different of me on the trip. She seemed to expect to be dragged around like a rag doll starting at 7 am every morning and just trying to see everything. She seemed to be grateful that I was more than happy to sleep in till 9 every day, and not wake her up for another hour. Although... I doubt she expected me to do so much soul searching on the trip. She was great. She handled everything like a champ and we both learned a lot on the trip.

Here are just a few...... very very very few highligths.

Dancing in front of the Capitol!

Carolyn Joined us one day (monday)!! It was so good to see her. She's just as lovely as I remembered.

Chair and I sitting on the steps of the Lincoln memorial gazing on the Amazing that is DC.

We had a lot of fun at all the different art museums. My favorite was when she'd turn to me and whisper "Hillary... I don't get it." That would usually happen in front of pieces that I actually really enjoyed.

I quoted Tom Hanks an absurd amount on the trip. For example, whenever ANYONE would talk about George Washington University I would turn to Chair and say "did you pledge?..............everyday." (it's from "Big") I also did a lot of Forest Gump lines, even calling her Jennay a few times.

I was disappointed with a few things I had high expectations of, and blown away by things I wasn't even expecting to see. I found this at the National Gallery of Art and I find it to be flawless. This is an absolutely incredible piece with so much symbolism and meaning behind it. Love it!

I know how to act like a lady. And I did most of the time. But let there be no mistake.... when it was appropriate... I was a total goof ball.

Like I said, it was a great trip with a lot of "looking within." I'm so glad I had my aunt with me and I adored the family we stayed with. Coming home was strangely excited for both of us, but we wouldn't have traded our time for anything.

Not Quite One, Not Quite Two.

(Original Reading- August 5, 2010. Funeral for Angela Ivie)

I went on a hike today, And I couldn't find you, You weren't near, "Mom where are you?"

That's when I heard it, That simple reply, Somehow understood through my Hysterical cries.

I was in the woods, The last place you'd be. I forgot it wasn't you that loved the mountains, Silly- That was me.

You hated the outdoors, And anything with a camper, I can't get enough of that so... How are you my mother?

Your hair is stuck in the 80's, Mom you needed a straightener, The poof was never in- I'm not claiming you, mother.

I can't stand spending money, I'm sorta a penny pincher, We know that's not you, I'm not sure you're my mother.

Diet Coke and Diet Pepsi, Of that you're an avid drinker, I won't get near the stuff, Again, how are you my mother?

McDonalds is gross- Please eat healthier. It's cheap for a reason! Good gracious mother.

Our views on dating, Are less than matching, Somehow I'M the conservative one, You sure you're my mother?

We used to fight a lot, Sometimes still do, I'm right, you're wrong, Still wanna be my mother???

I've eaten the wrong thing, A little nauseous you could say, A weak stomach just like you, OK, maybe I'm your daughter.

Walking through the store, Jewelry, it sparkles and shine, That my friend, can not be passed- Most likely I'm you daughter.

Christmas time and 'Black Friday'- Has always been our favorite, No question on what to get each other, It's been exciting to be your daughter.

In a business setting, You're an outstanding worker, Maybe I got that too? I'm proud to be your daughter.

Living with the demons, That won't seem to leave, You've understood my tears, I need to be your daughter.

Your love to create music Matched mine to tell it's story, It's times like that, It makes sense I'm your daughter.

Walking by your casket- Glancing at your pretty hands, There lies your temple recommend... I'm honored to be your daughter.

I went on this hike- Just trying to find you, You weren't there, "Mom I need you."

I hiked back down, With big mascara tears, How am I going to make it, With out you through the years?

I got back home- In the mirror I saw more of you, Not just the usual me, Cause, now, we're not quite one, yet not quite two.

Adjectividation (Personal Pick-me-Up-&-Go)

I haven't really written anything this month.

I'm sure you all noticed. And I'm sure this concerned you.

My last writing post got called "morbid" By someone whose opinion I hold way too high for my own good.

That piece of writing is probably one of my favorites. It's incredibly honest, well, one sided metaphorically honest. I think they didn't catch the metaphorical part.

Either way... I took that hard. too hard. And I personalized it. I started to feel like they didn't just call my writing morbid... But because my writing was so important to me, They had called me morbid.

Which would mean I was this:

mor-bid

[mawr-bid]

-adjective 1. suggesting an unhealthy mental state or attitude; unwholesomely gloomy, sensitive, extreme, ect.: a morbid interest in death. 2. affect by, caused by, causing, or characteristic of disease.

So. For the past month, that is the label I took on. I couldn't bring myself to write because, Who would want to read unwholesomely gloomy writing?

From an unhealthy mentally sick person?

Till today.

As much as I value their opinion... They were wrong. are.

What happened today? Well it seems as if people I surround myself with, who see me, who know me now, have been using very uplifting adjectives (or maybe today I listened) Which ever it is Here are the list of my favorite adjectives used, from a rather paramount self-esteem-boosting-day.

al-lur-ring

[uh-loor-ring]

-adjective 1. very attractive or tempting; enticing; seductive. 2. fascinating; charming

wise

[wahyz]

-adjective 1. having the power of discerning and judging probperly as to what is true or right; possesing discernment, judgement, or discretion. 2. characterized by or showing such power; judicious or prudent; a wise decision. 3. possessed of or characterized by scholarly knowledge or learning learned; erudite: wise in the law.

Free Spirit

-noun

1. a person with a highly individual or unique attitude, lifestyle, or imagination; nonconformist.

per-son-a-ble

[pur-suh-nuh-buhl]

-adjective 1. of pleasing personal appearance; handsome or comely; attractive. 2. having an argeeable or please personality; affable; amiable; sociable.

Aren't those great? I'm not saying I completely agree 100% or all the time. But... why would they use those selected words if they didn't believe it? They have nothing to gain from it. so. Those. Are my new labels.

(hopefully)

(I saved the best for last) This one... is used rarely. By one person. Rare, because it's special, But often enough for me to know That that is how they've labeled me. No matter what is going on, no matter who is around, no matter what media is used, whenever they use this word, I feel incredible.

lovely

[luhv-lee]

-adjective 1. charmingly or exquisitely beautiful: a lovely flower. 2. having a beauty that appeals to the heart or mind as well as to the eye, as a person or a face. 3. delightful; highly pleasing: to have a lovely time.

Absolute Occurrence is Irrelevant

Remember when we were little?

You liked baseball. I tried to play, because you told me thats what everyone played. I trusted you. I thought it was something that I was going to learn to like. But then I got older, and I went to school. I made friends, I had sleep overs, and playdates. My friends didn't play baseball. I watched closer, because that didn't make sense. Why did you tell me something, that nobody else seemed to believe was true.

I decided to quit baseball. You didn't like that. You took a bat and hit me hard on the hip. Hard enough for me to feel, but in a place no one could see. I played for another week. I said to you again, that I didn't like baseball. The pony tail you put in my hair for the game that night, ripped a chunk of hair out. I played another week. I'd quit. You'd "convince" me to play another week. Till one day I walked out to the pichers mound and screamed

"I DON'T LIKE BASEBALL! I DON'T WANT TO PLAY ANYMORE

I haven't played since.

Do you remember a few years ago?

You liked basketball. You have no idea that I liked it to. You'd play for hours, and I'd sit on the side lines. During your warm up, sometimes I'd come and shoot the ball. You never passed the ball to me. I waited patiently. I continued to practice, because one day you'd notice. We'd talk on our drives to the gym, and one day I told you "hey, I'm pretty good at basketball too." You looked at me, looked forward, and the next day picked up golfing.

And here we are today...

You're a swimmer. All you talk about is swimming. How I need to swim, how swimming is the only sport you can remember, how freeing it is. I look at the pool, and I don't trust it. I remember the times I've chocked on water, when I've needed water and couldn't find any, when I've trusted water and it turned out to be tainted.

But I walk catiously to the pool. I nervously extend my foot over the edge and emerse my toes. I bring my foot back out, still unsure if I want to swim. Or if I can. With you in the pool, constantly reasuring me of it's wonders, I slowly sit down. Putting my feet completely in, I realize the water is colder than what you described. I decide not to point that out, because part of me likes it. I begin to swirl my legs, almost splashing in the water. You keep telling me to get in. I remind you, look, my feet are in. You get mad at me, saying I need to swim, that I'm not swimming. I look at you and hiss "I'll get in when I'm ready." Irritated, I start to stand up.

You grab my arm and pull me in.

I wasn't ready to get in. I told you that. The water fills my lungs and stings my eyes, as I panic to climb to the surface. I kick to the edge. I desperately scramble to to climb out of the pool. My hair and clothes now soaked with freezing cold water. I continue to cough up the water that filled my lungs. My eyes are stinging and my throat is rough. You stand there in the pool, looking at me confused, you don't seem to understand why I don't want to swim.

Looking at you, my eyes thin into a glare. I bit my lower lip, while ringing out my shirt. Locking eye contact I fight back the urge to show you the bruise, the one that's still on my hip. Or the bald spot, on the back of my head. I fight the urge to scream, that I don't like swimming.

So I grab my coat and walk away.

idunno

So. I'm finally at that age.

The age I can remember other people reaching.

My aunts, dance teachers, young women leaders, and brother's friends.

The age that, while I was growing up, everyone "here" seemed to know.

Know exactly where they were going.

Know exactly what they were doing.

Know exactly who they were.

~

Where everyone was

Moving out.

was/getting married

Graduating College

Starting their career

Having Children

Starting their own "families"

Staring in their own world.

~ I remember being younger.

Saying I wish I was that age.

I wish I was there.

If only I were done with this "stage"

~ Everyone told me to stop.

Not to wish my life away.

That I would miss those years.

That I would long to have them back, When really they should have said

"Hillary, I have no idea what the freak I'm doing"

~

Or did they?

Did they all... somehow, have it as

..."figured out"...

As it appeared?

~

People ask me all the time

"What's your major?"

With a smile and fantastic posture I answer

"The Social Science Composite Teaching Major"

...I want to be a teacher...

I want to be a teacher

I love teaching.

(I Think)

~

I get asked that on a regular basis.

I answer it confidently e.v.e.r.y.t.i.m.e.

When really... I'm maybe 77% sure.

(82% on a good day)

(95% if a teacher is complimenting my "skills")

~

So this makes me wonder

Was everyone I talked to just

Mostly Sure Or Pretty Sure

And did they asnwered confidently (like I do)

To avoid

Questions

Confused looks

Not welcomed advice

and incorrect labels

~

So.

To everyone who "has"

how sure were you really?

To everyone who "is"

how sure are you really?

(I finally got my grandfather to admit that school was hard. That sometimes it felt never ending. That once in a while.... he just wanted to quit.

I took a huge sigh of relief while driving home)

Hillary Facebook Photo Challenge

This is my 30 Day photo Thing... condensed into 4 minutes. ENJOY! There is no music to the video- so feel free to pick your own.