A Very Lucky Girl

I left this draft blank for several weeks because I think this is one of the hardest tributes for me to write. One of the most difficult things this year has been seeing the imperfections in my own parents. It was silly of me to hold them so high in my mind, but I think it's a natural instinct for any child. I love my dad a lot. He has disappointed me in 2013. But at the same time I'm very proud of him for facing struggles honestly. I've talked to him as an equal adult more this year than any other and I like to think he's listened to me sometimes.   He's been my storyteller, my coach, and my biggest fan. He's been my enemy, my provider, and my companion. I wouldn't trade him for any other father.  I learned in Sociology of Family last semester that fathers are usually the parent who encourages their kids to take risks. Paul has done that for me. Sometimes without a choice; moving is always a risk and I've done it several times. But with those...

Fair warning: this post could tip a bit to the overly religious side, so stop reading now if you aren't interested. But now I probably made you curious right? Human nature is awesome like that. During my Sunday School years of choir practice and the infamous Bible Buddies, I belted out the song: "Oh be careful little eyes what you see Oh be careful little eyes what you see For the Father up above, He is looking down in love So, be careful little eyes what you see" The song continues throughout four more verses, espousing the virtues of being careful about what you hear, do, go, and say. Recently, I've been overthinking that 3rd and 4th line. I don't doubt that God is looking down in love, but I doubt that's the sole reason to be cautious with my senses. People are people-watchers at heart. I'm the first to admit to hypocrisy. It's not for lack of effort, but it's always easier to walk on the treadmill rather than run. I've b...

“I am a princess. All girls are, even if they live in tiny, old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren’t pretty, or smart, or young. They’re still princesses. All of us. Didn’t your father ever tell you that? Didn’t he?”-The Little Princess Paul taught me that I am princess. When I was younger we would go on daddy-daughter dates every so often, maybe once or twice a month. They weren't anything big or fancy, but he would pay for my Sonic drink and still opens the car door for me when he comes to pick me up at school, subconsciously instilling expectations for future boyfriends (so far most have sucked in comparison). He even let me drive his midlife crisis car (a Mercedes convertible SLK? SRK? it's tiny and shiny) a few times in Beaumont; in fact, I think it's about time for another joyride soon... He and I are a lot alike, which has led to some volatile disagreements over the years. We both love to make people laugh, but hate to be wrong. We both used to...