A Very Lucky Girl

I discovered an incredibly inspiring exercise through my friend Kelky's instagram. I asked her about it and learned that it's her way of recognizing all the good and happy things in life, no matter how small, especially when she feels like the world is pummeling her with hard experiences.  I've decided to follow her example and create my own list of happiness that I can update consistently. Because as cliche as I sound right now, and as much as I'm making myself cringe, there's little sparkly bits of happiness in a lot of minute details of life.  Without further ado, My Experiment in Happiness: used books with a stranger's thoughts in the margin random texts when someone is thinking of you Fat Amy days with no plans rainy afternoon naps tie blankets sparkles old pictures handwritten notes mail brown paper packages tied up with string Troy Bolton flawless cinema romance quick wit bold colors the euphoria after finishing a morning run putt...

I can't tell you how many times I've sat down with a purposeful post in mind, only to veer from my original intent midway through the second sentence of said post. Which leaves me with a long list of things that I still need to blog about. I have a stack of materials next to my bed and short phrases in my Notes App on my phone that I keep meaning to weave into a post, but they never seem to fit. And then when I go back to look at them I forget where I was even going with the point. Where am I going with THIS point?  It stresses me out when I don't have at least 2 posts queued. It's egotistical to assume that you are hanging on my every word, but I don't want to disappoint any avid readers. And neither do I want to crash and burn on this project. I'm notorious for a lot of big talk without much action backing up my words. For quitting projects when I've barely made a dent in the progress. May 26th marked the 3 month birthday of averyluckygirl-taylor.blogsp...

“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...

The other day I was texting one of my friends and mentioned that I was jealous of his life and wished that I was him at that moment (he was taking a nap. one of my favorite things in the world) and he countered with, "...but I like you for being Taylor." 1, 2, 3...d'awwww. And it reminded me of one of my favorite quotes in all the world from 27 Dresses, "Why would you want to be me if you get to be you?"  But I recently got to thinking, who would I want to be, if I wasn't me? Obviously, Jennifer Aniston is high on that list. She is one of my all-time favorite women. I love her in every single movie she stars in, but I have a secret girl crush on her as Rachel in Friends. She possesses this likable quality that I would give anything to have, her ditzy actions overshadowed by her good intentions and easy laugh. And Jen herself isn't too bad, either. I don't know her personally, unfortunately, but from what I've seen of her in the Hollywood world,...

The #1 depressing thing in my life right now? Oakes (my brother) doesn't follow me (@mymylilADPi) on Twitter. When I first signed up for my wings he followed me and then a few days later informed me that he had revoked that privilege because I was "bad at twitter." Excuse me? Please tell me how that works, ginger.  And so here it is, 8 or 9 months later, and @_Scal still hasn't blessed me with a follow. I think I'm going to ask him for that for my birthday, it's right up his alley: cheap.  I'd consider myself an average tweeter, in terms of quantity (You already know that I don't skimp on the quality coming from my tweets). I never tweet more than 10 times a day, and it's usually somewhere between 3 or 4 snippets of sass. Whereas my timeline is trampled with tidbits of information from the same people, usually about mundane moments OR (this is when I grab my candy du jour and settle in for several minutes of scrolling) crazy drama. It amazes me...

September 2011, when I was feeling really discouraged about school and my pathetic life in general, my friend Nick introduced me to this song . Proud by The Icarus Account. First off, this was a complete music change from my typical Katy Perry and Taylor Swift playlists. And secondly, the chorus completely hit home. "The innocence we had could never last forever And I look at what I learned to play today; Do you think that I'll be famous someday? When you see me now,  I hope I make you proud" Because all I wanted to do was make people proud of me and I felt like I just kept disappointing them. I didn't know how to fix it.  Recently I've heard this refrain in my head, and it's bringing new thoughts that might be impossibly twisted. You tell me. I really struggle with pride. I like to be right, I like to be perfect, I like to have all the answers always. I hate to be wrong, I hate to make mistakes, I hate unknowns.  And pride has al...

During my geology class on Wednesday I was struck by the excitement in my professors voice. To nearly everyone in the class, especially me, his words mesh into a drone that I try hard to focus on. I struggle because geology doesn't engage me. But to Professor Soreghan, geology brings color to his life. He teaches other classes and I can't imagine how bored I would be having to repeat the same information to students everyday, year after year.  But then I realized that's how I had started to feel about blogging. It's become a passion. I feel like I'm in a new relationship. The kind that gives you butterflies when you see their name pop up on your screen with a text message. The kind that you procrastinate your homework for. The kind that makes you excited to wake up in the morning. The kind that you daydream about before you fall asleep. I'm having an affair with my blog. It's really serious. Last night I made an effort to fall asleep around 12:30...