Just when you think you have all of life's complications figured out the universe shows you exactly why you don't. As an ambitious freshman at Ball State University I was ready to become this kick-ass teacher and change the world of learning. Now? Lazy, unmotivated sophomore majoring in the only thing I seem to know how to do well... journalism. The thoughts in my head, scrambled and unorganized like the New York strip, are only understandable on paper... or in this case... my blog.

Things sure have changed for me. If I wasn't in a coffee shop at the moment with a friend on her way I would continue this blog with more detail and much more information than one would like, or even care, to read. Until then I will keep on experiencing life so I have something to write about and another person has something to read in the future.

Eyes Unseen

I find myself most days sitting here on the computer, playing the same song over and over. Today I've chosen, "Hands Down" by Dashboard Confessional. There's something blissful about finding the right song for the day. When you think about it there's a song for every kind of day; songs for anger, joy, pure hatred for the world and the people inhabiting it, and for redemption of the day after. The right song connects you to the world. It makes you wake-up and gives you a reason to go on living. Many interest groups blame music for the increasing number of suicides in the nation, but I blame the interest groups... and LSD since I'm on the subject. Maybe generations before mine didn't need music to get them from one day to the next. I think I can safely speak for my generation when I say that we do.

I am currently stuck at a job that has forced me to see the bad side of people. I grew up believing that, when if came down to it, people were actually human and were okay with being just that. I've been at my job for three years now, and find that I can no longer look people in the eye. Does mankind have to be so scary that we can't even look at each other anymore? It's amazing what you can find out about people just by actually looking at them. I suppose I've come to associate eye contact with yelling and being put down; people can be good, but they can be ugly if you give them the chance, too.

Life is one big roller coaster. Every single day is different from the last. I can't help but wonder though... does it change for the worse? I find myself constantly evolving, but look around me and see that I've become exactly what I always use to try to stay clear of.

I've officially declared myself a Journalism major... and Agnostic. Neither one, in my eyes, is bad; however, I grew up in a Christian community, in a Christian household, with Christian friends. All I have experienced while growing up is judgment, discrimination, and hate. Robert Frost said, "don't be Agnostic. Be something!" I'd rather be Agnostic than responsible for any of the things that I just mentioned. Someone who is Agnostic neither believes in nor denies the god/s of any religion. I would personally feel a whole lot better about myself if I found religion in my own way and on my own terms. I don't want to participate in a religion simply because that's the way I was raised.

I'm not proposing the idea that any religious person is judgmental, discriminating, or hateful... ALL of us are those things. I just don't want my god to be held responsible. I believe the only true believer of a religion loves people no matter who they are or what they do. That's what all of us should really do. I am, also, not saying that religions don't promote this belief, but hardly anyone acts on is. After all, "no Agnostic ever tortured or burned somebody at the stake"... I know somebody said this, but I'm not taking the time to look it up. Instead I'm going to take my dog on a walk and come back to read.

The Nightrider

Last night was a wonderfully brisk night for a walk. Descending from the same father, my sister and I really enjoy our late night walks as he did. I was graced with the gift of time last night when my sister suggested a good walk so I obviously could not turn it down.

My sister was the problem child growing up. Because of this circumstance she always has advice to give for every opportunity of life. As we walked in the cold underneath the stars I told her of my plans to move out of my parents' house. I had a friend in my speech class at Ball State who asked me to be her 4th roommate; all the balls seem to be in my court. I get the entire basement to myself, my own vintage refrigerator, table and chairs, and bathroom. Such a tiny bathroom, but has a huuuuuuge shower!... hmmm.

Good Ol' Sis proceeds to talk me out of moving. She said that staying at home with my parents to save money was a much better idea. Don't get me wrong. I save money like crazy and enjoy knowing that, if an emergency would present itself, I will have money to fall back on. However, I feel like I need to grow up.

I am 18 years old. I'll be 19 in four days. I will not argue with someone in saying the I am still young and very much a child. I agree with this one hundred percent. I just feel that life is scary enough so I might as well jump right into the responsibilities while I'm still young. Every time I get apprehensive about trying new things or taking risks, I always picture myself on my death bed. I know, weird, right? I picture myself as a fragile old woman; arthritus has taken over my body, skin along with my tattoos are sagging, loved ones have come to say goodbye and I am left awaiting my last breath. I ask myself: what do I wish I would have done differently? What would I do if I had more time? What would I say to the people I love? Will I be satisfied in knowing that I never went into debt and led a safe life or will I wish that I had lived my life, loved without holding back, and enjoyed every second of it?

Spirit in the Sky (just because it's a good song)

I spent my high school years planning the rest of my life. I was going to college, major in Special Education, graduate with my teaching degree, move away, meet a rich guy, get married, pop out a couple of kids, and spend the rest of my time enjoying my family and the life that I will have with them. Why do we always plan for the future instead of just enjoying today? After all, the future is NEVER what we plan and only predictable in the sense that it will be unpredictable.

I'm torn between going through with majoring in Special Education and becoming a writer. Throughout my whole life writing has been my passion. I'm not very good at talking my feelings out, but I never have trouble writing them. In real life, what you see is what you get (or so that's what everyone thinks), but on a piece of paper you can transform yourself. Say the things that you can not say otherwise; be anyone you want. I am the most honest version of myself on paper.

The dilemma: follow my passion and write like Anne Lammott and John Steinbeck, or continue with my major, get a job pretty much as soon as I graduate, and be happy, but not writing. I can only assume that I won't have much time for writing if I'm a Special Education Teacher. Maybe I should just plan to write a novel on the side.

I love working with some of the girls that I do. At my current job, I mean. Whenever I work with one in particular I always get a heartfelt story and some great advice. One night it was about my past relationships and hopefully my future ones. She told me that you don't have to love a person; love fades, diminishes, and shrivels up like a head of wilted lettuce. All you have to find is someone that you can't live without. I thought that I had found that person quite a while ago, but was proven wrong and discovered that I can, in fact, live without him. I am living without him right now and you know what? I'm fine. I do, however, hope to find that one person I can live apart from, but can't truly live without for the rest of my life. This same wonderful woman told me last night that I had to face my fears and learn to trust people. I haven't really ever learned to trust people. How can anyone really trust another person? The only thing that any of us can really trust in this world is that we are all human, different, and, because of the first two, we will all make mistakes at LEAST 90% of the time.

COMM 210

I had to give a speech today in my communication class. EPIC FAIL!! This was my opening line: "S... A... D (as I'm writing this on the board). Looks like an emotion, right? BUT... if you put these dots in between the letters it becomes an ACRONYM for Seasonal Affective Disorder!" You don't even want to know how the rest of the speech went. Oh well. You can't give a speech like Jesus EVERY time you walk up to the lectern.

I was in a surprisingly great mood today. I mean before my speech things were a bit rocky. I felt like I was going to throw up every five minutes or have a seizure from all of my nervous shaking. You know... it's really strange, when you think about it, as to why people get so nervous before giving a speech. I mean, all you're doing is talking to people. You do it every day unless you avoid people at all costs. And yet every time I walk up to the front of the class I contemplate jetting right out that door and running for my life. Or at least my dignity.

I've learned that whenever you get nervous the best thing you can do is laugh at yourself for being so nervous. Then, just so you're not alone, make the people around you laugh as well. Even if you're not quite laughing already, when other people laugh you can't help but go along with it.

The party last night was the most fun I've had in a while. No matter how much you tell yourself to grow up, no matter how much you come to terms with the fact that you are getting older there will always be that person inside you who wants to have fun, forces you to face your fears, and allows you to love someone else more than yourself. I always thought that Valentine's day was meant for the couples around me. Even when I was "allowed" to share this day with a significant other I couldn't enjoy it. Now I've learned that Valentine's day is meant for all the lovers in the world... and I LOVE my friends and family.

I use to not get along with my father. When I was young I resented him for being a smoker. I hated how my friends constantly complained about the smell of the house when he was at home. He also strived to be my friend rather than my father; I thought of my uncle as more of a father figure than my own dad. I began working with him and would often agree with my co-workers on how ridiculous my dad was being. As I've grown older my heart has begun to soften and now my dad will always have a special place in my heart. Even though he didn't have much to give I truly believe that he did the best with what he had. He's not perfect, but neither am I. You aren't either. We're always drawn towards perfection; however, it is impossible to attain it and an unrealistic goal for human beings.