A Very Lucky Girl

To be frank, this is weird. I haven't taken this long of a hiatus from A Very Lucky Girl since..well, ever. And I don't really remember how to write like A Very Lucky Girl. I turned in my final paper to dropbox less than an hour ago and here I am, still with phrases of Paradise Lost  swirling in my head. The last time I wrote here it was almost three or four full months ago. A lot can change in three months. They've been good changes and hard changes and just plain changes. Where do I start? How do I begin? Well, there's this boy...whom I love and adore and admire with all of my being. I did not plan for this and Tanner's presence was most unexpected, but strangely welcome. I smile to think of how far we have come in only three months and what a precious blessing he is in my life. It all started with our two friends, Megan and Marshall. I know I've mentioned Megan plenty of times in A Very Lucky Girl, but Marshall is her boyfriend, who also happens to be o...

Words are weird. I can sit down and type out strings of words that mean something to me in record time. I trip over my fingers because those words have been inside me for so long and I'm anxious to spill my feelings in a tangible, manageable, form. But when I notice I haven't blogged in a while and it's time for a new post I am often stumped. Not because my blog posts are meaningless (although I did write about Tinder...so you be the judge), but because I'm nervous to share all of me with all of you (John Legend reference YES). Maybe you won't like what I have to say. Maybe you will criticize it. Maybe you'll think differently of me. Writing is risky. Writing is permanent. I need only to scroll back on my own blog to find posts with words I wouldn't write now. My words are permanent outward expressions of a constantly changing person. The words I'm currently most worried about are my two essays for the Fulbright ETA funding. I need to write a personal...

I realized lately how comfortable Tyler and I are in our relationship. It's honestly amusing. There are several conversations and phrases we say now that would have been taboo on our first date about a year and a half ago. I was feeling sick the other week and demonstrated for him how much phlegm was in my throat by making a truly heinous noise. Instead of dumping me in disgust, he laughed.  We never back away from the double chin snapchat and had a contest at lunch the other day to see who could create the most chins. He won and was proud of his victory.  We confidently yell through the bathroom door mid-pee. The first time he tried to talk to me through the bathroom door I was hesitant: "Wait, you're really doing this? Are we there?" Apparently we were and have been ever since. He found a quarter in his bed one night and asked, "where did this come from?" I promptly responded, "I poop quarters." Mistake. Whenever he needs change now, he c...

I saw a pin on Pinterest about a year or so ago about a woman who saved five dollar bills in a jar for a year. Every single fiver she received in change or whatever, she saved. Never spent. She ended up with enough money to take a luxurious vacation, just from the fives she saved instead of spending. I decided to take a cue from her in November. I started saving every five from my Fuzzy's tip money, every five I was given in change from a cashier. I've saved at least six hundred dollars this way. Sometimes I get frustrated when I pay with a twenty dollar bill and receive multiple fives in change. But then...that money is still going to be doing something good for me. Just not immediately. The principle of delayed gratification is important to me.  Every five that has touched my hands in the past 8-9 months has gone straight to savings.  A Very Lucky Girl is a saving addict and proud of this self-instilled habit. 

I don't know that I'm necessarily easily angered, but I am easily irritated. I struggle most with holding grudges. You know how I can tell when I haven't forgiven someone completely in a Godly manner? I remain distant and standoffish. God doesn't do that when He forgives me wholly always. Clearly, I'm not God-like. I'm angry with several people at this time. I'm angry with my family for changing. I'm angry with God for allowing so much bad to happen. I'm angry at myself for not praying as much as I ought. But what difference does prayer make, honestly? God supposedly knows what I want before I even know or ask for it myself, but He hasn't come through even when I have asked. Where was He when I moved high schools 3 times? Where was He during lonely senior year? Where was He when I left TCU? Where was He when I was diagnosed with Addison's Disease? Where was He when I missed old friends? Where was He when the tornado hit Moore? Where is He no...

I never fail to blush furiously when I reread my old journals. There are pros and cons to keeping track of my life events since the 6th grade. And a pro is seeing the growing up process and discovering 8 specific things I'm SO glad I have left in the past: 2007-"...he said I was smart, funny, clever, and beautiful. And made him feel like he could be himself. How does he always know what to say?" I outgrew the terrible trait of fishing for compliments by asking that awfully annoying question, "but, like, why do you like me?" of guys I talked to, and actually believing their answer. Side note: Tyler tried to tell me I didn't need to fish for compliments, and without reading what this unnamed previous guy had said, began to tell me, "you're smart and funny..." Oh. Well, that's familiar. 2008-"I also wrote a sonnet about NH." I haven't written a sonnet since. To be fair, it was an assignment for a class, but the subject ma...

February 26th is when I wrote my very first EVER blog post a year ago. You can read it here . 217 posts later I don't know that I've grown as a writer, but I can claim with confidence I've grown as a person.  But maybe that's the exact same concept. Because this person is a writer. Sometimes. I'm also a reader. An eater. A runner. A sleeper. A giggler. A tweeter. A Facebook-er. A studier. A dreamer.  A daughter. A sister. A girlfriend. A friend. All in all, quite a multi-personality Very Lucky Girl. 

then then Two years down fighting Addison's Disease , hopefully plenty to go! Annual shout out to Sharbear, OU medical center Edmond, and cortisol for saving my life.  then then Addisonial crisis On January 17th, 2011 I was flopped in an ICU hospital bed in an Addison's-induced and morphine-enhanced state of delirium. I had nightmares about sleeping among giant vegetables (as if I loved squash before...), being the victim in high-speed police car chase (the brakes wouldn't work! Not my fault!), and mistakenly thought I had been moved to 3 different rooms during my stay at the hospital. The first room my mind invented was a luxurious, hotel style bedroom with spacious double beds and a chaise lounge. The second was a freezing cold residence on a ranch where I slept on an incline with the aforementioned vegetables and there was no water to be found anywhere. The third room (in fact, the ONLY room that I was in for the duration of my hospital visit) wa...

If there is one thing that I've learned in 2012, it's that relationships are ever-changing. Whether for good, for bad, of just for a new season in life, it happens. I'm slowly coming to terms with the idea that there is nothing wrong with change. Change builds people, change grows friendships. I've had my fair share of "best" friends. Whether they were best for a season or best for a lifetime is irrelevant. I can't choose the best person that has made me the better version of myself that I am today. It is a combination of everyone's bests. The popular meaning of a "best friend" is juvenile. I think I have at least 4 "best friends" necklaces in my jewelry drawer at home. A Hello Kitty one for me and Samantha, a orange sparkly duck one for me and Callie, a dolphin one (that changes color depending on my mood! omg LyKe we were/are the coolio-est!) for me and Kayla, and an ice cream cone one for me and Ashley. But necklaces don't ...

"You miss 100% of the shots you don't take."-Someone Really Smart I honestly don't remember who said the above, but it resonated in my head all day last Monday while I mulled over a possibility. It was a possibility that I was hesitant to share with anybody, because what if it didn't pan out? But I realized that the people in my life are here to share in the joys and the disappointments.  So here goes *virtual deep breath*, I sent in a piece to the Glamour essay contest.  Please ignore the blurry: I was struggling for breath on a 15.0 incline and 4.0 speed during my treadmill workout. I thought, what could it hurt? And took my hands off the heart rate tracker for a split second to snap a photo of a possible future.  I debated with myself all afternoon, but finally forced myself to submit a very revised version of my Addison's Disease essay that evening. I'm a realist; I don't expect anything to come out of my meager offering to the written wo...

I graduated May 2010 and received, among many other generous gifts, a copy of Michael J. Fox's book, "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Future" from my Uncle Bill and Aunt Jill. I tossed it aside, it masqueraded as a cliche graduation gift and I had checks to cash! Until a few weeks ago it sat on my bookshelf at home, nestled between the other books that I mean to eventually get around to when reading "Little Women" for the zillionth time loses it's appeal. On the way to school after a weekend at home I snatched it from the shelf, intending to select "Blue Like Jazz" (because I still haven't read that one yet either...Sorry Dad). I didn't notice my mistake til I arrived at my dorm and didn't think anything of it, merely placing it in the back of the closet, easy access for the next major procrastination nation party. Saturday afternoon found me lounging in the grass, desperately soaking up the sun  and turning to the first ch...