I am so excited! I am beyond fat-kid-in-candy-store happy…I am more like abused orphan meets her long lost parents who adore her and want to love her forever happy. I love school! I love my house! I love my friends! I love my boyfriend! I love being back! And I plan on not leaving this time. Sure summer gave me a serious three months of alone reflection/growing time but it sucked. I don’t plan on doing that again. My life is meant to be active and adventurous. The highlight of my day should NOT be going home to sleep. Sleeping can be great but too much is a waste of precious time that can be used for much better things.
Over the summer, it was like I was held in pause for awhile. Yes I did great things and I do actually miss my job, coworkers and kids but I would much rather be here. Since I have gone back to classes, I feel like my intelligence has returned to rush through my college veins to invigorate and inspire my body. Maybe I’m just a dork for loving school so much but I couldn’t care less. Dorks make it big now a days. I signed up for classes I knew I would love. So far, it has proved that my judgement in taste was correct. My favorite class so far is my Drama Lit class. I was starving for conversation and a life back in the theatre and this class is what I needed. I actually nearly cried when we discussed the Moscow Art Theatre’s production of The Sea Gull and how it launched them into success. If none of you know or have even heard of the MAT, you should definitely look into it. It is a story of struggle, change, endurance and unexpected success. Truly inspiring to the artsy type who hope to make it against all odds.
The only “set back” I have encountered so far is the people I thought were leaving have returned to the school. At first it was extremely tense when I saw them but after a little time I was approached so that they could mend the bridges that were burned. Lets just say that last year, the parting conversations we had were not pleasant. I am thankful for the time we have all had to mature because the only thing I wanted to do was act like a little kid and tell them off. But I guess the counseling job did a lot of good for me in learning patience with people. I certainly did not let them off the hook easy, but just enough so that it wouldn’t feel like all the air was being sucked out of the room when we saw each other. Jeeze, you would think drama would be left behind when you went to college. Apparently not here. I know that this year will be dramatically less stressful than last even though I have more “adult” things to worry about. I must get a job, pay my tuition, pay my bills, fix my ridiculous bank issues, and start this new sorority. It’s borderline insanity but I believe it can be done.
Now that I live in a house with just me and my friends, things that used to stress my out seem like nothing. Curfew is now non existent and my guy friends can actually visit. It’s a good life. I am one of the blessed ones and I’m thankful for it.
Writing down my random stream of consciousness is all fun and dandy but it’s late and I should probably sleep. Yea, I should definitely sleep.
Hey followers that probably never see my posts (forever alone).
I just realized the other day that I haven’t actually talked on here in way too long. This is unacceptable since most of my thoughts happen in movie/dialogue form.
Since my last long text post, my life has changed dramatically, I have a boyfriend, I finished my first year of college, I moved to an extremely boring place, I got a job, I have had many fights/arguments with stupid people….etc. Since moving away from ATL I have been in the middle of nowhere country with a lonely 83 acres surrounding me with no neighbors. Some would see this as a heavenly sanctum of peace and tranquility in the country quietness. Sometimes it is really fantastic but other times I feel like I’m going freaken insane. I am used to being 20 minutes from downtown ATL where the clubs, shops, theaters, and culture was constantly calling my name. Now the only thing calling my name are the red neck hillbillies that whistle at me and call me “baby”. The truly sad thing is many of those whistling hillbillies are my relatives.
Talk about a serious cultural and atmosphere change.
On the plus side, since being up here my parents are finally realizing that they haven’t been giving me the credit I so well deserve. They have never treated me like the mature young adult that I am. Now that they can physically see me make money, use it responsibly, fix everyone’s problems, and have all my crap together, they are starting to respect me a lot more. A pinnacle moment has come to pass in my life where my parents realize that I have felt kind of like I was raising them the past year or so. As the counselor of the family, when someone needs to vent, especially my mom, I get a call. Somehow I think of the cheesy Ghost Busters theme song…who you gonna call…GHOST BUSTERS!!! Yea, I’m lame and we know it. But, I guess I said this last paragraph about parents, changing, and responsibility as an encouragement to all who are waiting for that respect they so deserve. It will happen some day.
On another note, being away from the one you love sucks balls!! I have never been the mushy, lovey, girly type. But honestly, when love came my way I felt totally ridiculous. If you recall, I was the one who had the phrases such as, “I will be single forever”, “Love is impossible for me”, “screw love and boyfriends”…yea, I was that girl. What’s even funnier is the fact that I will sometimes still make comments about how silly the mushy stuff is and how gross love is when I do it anyways. Honestly the best irony of my entire life has come to pass. I was the independent one who would play the game of catch and release. As soon as a guy said the “L” word I hightailed it out of that situation before he could attempt to explain his emotions further. This one guy changed everything. I know that sounds too movieish and cheesy but it’s true. He is the first to ever make me admit my feelings to him, the first to actually hear me say the words “I love you” and actually mean it in a romantic sense, and the first guy to have my heart. According to him I am the first girl in his life that has had all that from him as well. We are ridiculously similar and we acted exactly the same about love before we met each other. We are also best friends. We were the rebels. Felt like it was “me against the world”, well now it’s “us against the world”. Ha, I guess some things never change.
Don’t worry, for those of you who are like the former me, I will change the subject from love to other forms of empowerment so you won’t get the urge to throw up. In my job, I act as a counselor. I work in a Juvenile Detention Center as a youth leader. I see kids everyday who have hit rock bottom, who have been abused, raped, committed serious crimes, attempted suicide, and have given up on their future. Most look at kids like this and scowl and think, “typical delinquent youth who should be locked up for their useless life”. That to me is a pointless view, thoughts and beliefs like these are a main reason why so many kids actually just give up. I look at these kids and know that all they need it to be pointed in the right direction and have some inspiration to get them going. My personal goal every day when I go to work is to get my girls to smile at least once. You would be surprised at how many of these kids never smile and never laugh. As I talk to them, encourage them and get to know them, I try to be the example they need at this delicate point in their life. I challenge them to think about the kind of future that they want, if they want to make an actual positive impact in this world, who will remember them when they are gone, the goals they want in life, and many other things. Most of these kids just wanted someone to talk to who won’t treat them like some stupid animal. From my perspective, my actual job is not to lock these kids up, but to show them how their biggest enemy is themselves and all they need is to do is have some faith. It’s amazing what a Juvenile Detention Center can teach you.
The lessons I have learned this year are countless and so valuable that I want to write them all down. I hope I can eventually share more of life’s little lessons and struggles and I hope that they will help someone.
Description: Mysterious, Quiet, Virtues: Acceptance, Commitment, Discipline, Foresight, Honesty, Honour, Hospitality, Humility, Independence, Integrity, Intuition Morality, Modesty, Obedience, Patience, Respectfulness, Responsibility, Trustfulness, Truthfulness This personality this is one of a kind persona, an oddity in this mundane world, if not an in explicably intriguing character. To the onlooker Alethea is a quite subdued individual whose character revolves around a shy yet steadfast nature. Such character derived in a loyalty and rooted in trust grows upon one reaching out in a whisper transmuting into a deep admiration. To the exuberant and animated she is inconspicuous, imperceptible, and invisible. As if no more than a premonition to the supercilious, yet to the keen, she becomes a work of genius unlike any other. Permeated with wisdom and infected with kindness she guides and strengthens those around her. In the absence a throng, she dispels the cloak releasing a creative and exuberant character vivacious and thirsty for life. In this she is no longer tranquil and subdued, but alive, full of an insatiable and unquenchable desire for life. This powerful craving brings out a random and indescribable occurrence, transforming a quiet heart to an innocent and playful, but vivid and active one. This freedom found only by herself and with her closest friends is invigorating. Such energy brings back the innocents of childhood infectious joy.
I have gone through a transition in my life most recently and God got right into the mix and gave me quite a few things to think about. It is certainly a rare occasion if I get frightened by something that is said to me. I am a bold person and take risks often. Fear is not an option for me. But when God speaks to me and gives me ridiculously specific directions about many things but leaves a few aspects of the conversation really vague, I tend to get a little nervous. The fact that I have been called to full time ministry to have a rather large influence is unbelievably humbling in itself. I feel unworthy. Yes, I am considered to be a “good person” and have great qualities and all that jazz…but I can’t help the question, “Why me?”.
The story of my life and how it relates to the work God is having me get involved in can be traced back to my birth when my parents decided to name me “Alethea”. My name is Greek and means “truth” or, that which is revealed. From the beginning of my life I sought after truth and wanted to enlighten and encourage others to see the truth as well. I wanted to show the truth of God and God’s work in the lives of others. I wanted to shed light on situations and make sure people actually used their brains and ability to put two and two together to figure something out. Needless to say, many hide from the truth and are terrified of what the truth can do. Everyone knows the phrase, “The truth hurts”. But I usually encourage with the phrase “The truth shall set you free”. The thought of absolute truthfulness is terrifying but needed. People ask me why I am so open with my life and my decisions. My answer is simple, I seek to demonstrate truth in every aspect of my life because there are simply too many liars in this world. The term “ignorance is bliss” has been said to me countless times by people wanting to hide what they thought should be hidden. Do you know what I think of that statement? I say that sure ignorance may be bliss for a short time until you realize that ignorance gets you absolutely no where in life. You achieve nothing and you are useless as an ignorant fool with no purpose. Unfortunately most people do not discover the true value of truth and knowledge until it is much too late and they are on their deathbed…smelling the death on the sheets (thanks Relient K).
With the fact of society’s unwillingness to accept and embrace truth, God’s calling on my life gets a little frightening at times. I have been called to minister, to be a key and unlock doors that man believes are closed forever, I am used to bring light into the darkness and share what must be heard in order to have true life and love. I have been given gifts of love and counsel. When I see a problem in any individual or group, it is my immediate response to get involved and start an awakening to reveal the truth in one’s life. The only problem is many people do not want to live this life. They want to continue hiding in the shadows of their ignorance and believe the fallacy that their way of life is bliss. When I intervene and reveal what they think is well hidden, many tend to get angry. I never said the truth was easy and would be a sugar coated feel good pill.
When God informed me of what work I would be doing for His Kingdom, I was brought down to me knees, in a quite literal way. I was reminded that I have many jobs to do while here in school and soon after I get out of school. I am unsure of when my ministry career will kick into full time but from what I hear, it won’t be too long after I graduate. With matters dealing with my emotions and my attachments to people, that is somewhat connected to my calling and still controlled by God. I literally can not emotionally disconnect from someone if God tells me not to. No matter how much the romantic attachment will mess with my current situation, I must do what is God’s will. I have no choice. Many would get angry at this life that has been given to me. Many think it is unfair that I am unable to do whatever I choose. Many people believe that there should be a plan “B” when there is really is only a plan “A” in my life. What many people think does not matter to me.
A long time ago I told God to take my life and I would do his work day in and day out. He has certainly kept His word and will always continue to do so. Sure, the life and the calling I have may seem strange to most people and frightening to almost everyone but I was chosen for some reason. I have no idea what that reason is but I know it is there. I will always continue to feel unworthy and will strive to be a servant in every situation. I promise to love and cherish every single broken heart I come across. I shall strive to be the best example possible and constantly keep my pride in check. Everyday while on this earth I will continue to feed His lambs and care for His sheep. I want to love with an unforgettable passion than most have never witnessed. And most of all, I will continue to seek truth in all things while glorifying the name of Jesus Christ.
My memory sucks. I mean seriously, it’s terrible. I have had memory problems since I was a kid and the car crashes I have had coupled with various head traumas have certainly not helped. After years of using my memory in strange ways, I was finally asked about it. A friend of mine was surprised at the detail of a memory I had. It got me thinking of how I could possibly explain how my memory works. It is a twist off of a photographic memory. Since I am an artist and writer, detail is ridiculously important in what I see and decide to remember. For instance, I can meet a person and completely forget there name but remember exactly what they were wearing, how they approached me, and all of my initial observations about them. With this thought I divided my thought processes of memory into categories of the senses. I use all of my senses to take in moments that I want to remember. When one of those moments come my way I take a mental picture of what happens. If the memory is only one short, specific event then the memory is like a picture. If the event is long and drawn out, then the memory is more like a movie with annotated pictures out to the side. With this method, the events that I can recall are always vivid and sometimes even astonishing.
Sometimes this way of recollection is a little harmful but for the most part it is highly amusing and productive. If I ever want someone to experience something that I have a memory of, I can explain, to the finest detail, what every sense felt like in that moment. I can remember what I heard, saw, smelt, touched, tasted and even how all of those made me feel on the inside. I enjoy clarity and perfect realizations that I need to remember something in a moment. My memory is a gallery of my short life as it stands today. It’s just my way of making really special moments last forever. I know that sounds really corny and kind of pathetic in a way but I like it. Any night when my insomnia is kicking me hardcore, I have a gigantic selection of recollections to relive. It helps.
I have a little story for you. Over the Christmas break my family and I went to Florida. For some reason Florida is where all of the crazy people live…literally. For example, my family lives down there so that should give you an idea of the severity of insanity in the south. Florida is also home of the worst drivers. It is my personal belief that the sun has baked the Floridians brains to the point of removal of basic driving logic. On this specific break I discovered that Florida is also home of the lunchables spartan. You may think that it’s impossible to combine the two but, a very special individual found a way to do so. I am still unsure if it was the sheer talent of the individual or if it was just my outlandish mind that made the connection…I leave the decision up to you.
My family and I decided to go to my aunt’s house to hang out and bead. My father and brother have beading obsessions. It’s a little weird but I get some epic jewelry out of it. Anyway, while traveling down the palm tree ridden roads to the house we pass a small strip mall. At the corner of the mall is one of those dudes who hold signs for businesses and what not. It’s a typical thing to see these guys everywhere. At first it was no big deal. The dude was bored and kinda dancing around with his sign. We stopped at a red light right beside the sign dude. I am just chillin and looking around when all of the sudden the dude caught my attention with his transformation into great advertising strategies and attention getters.
I look over to see the dude go from casually shifting around with the sign to convulsing his face, forming a battle cry, and violently shaking and thrusting his sign in the air. The image literally looked like he was a Spartan screaming a battle cry while threatening the enemy by brandishing his mighty weapon. With this change in physical demeanor I actually checked to see what was on the sign. I totally expected something amazing to be on that sign. As I focused my eyes on the sign it read “Lunchables 5 for $5!”. I could no longer maintain my composure. As I made the discovery of the advertisement I immediately imagined Leonidas screaming “This is SPARTAAA!!!!” while pumping a Lunchables sign in the air on the battle field….I had an explosive laugh spell for at least 10 minutes.
This is a prime example of effective advertising. I am not a huge Lunchables fan. I think they usually taste kinda like the cardboard box they come in. The sight of the Spartan Lunchables dude made me so excited that I wanted to jump out of my car and get 5 for $5. It’s as if the screaming ferocity of the dude pierced my soul and made me crave the cardboard delight of a Lunchable.
Mister Spartan Lunchable Man, I thank you for your commitment to your mundane job and making my life a crap ton more exciting. The experience was certainly one of the highlights of my break.
Have you ever seen a lady that just scares you beyond all reason? I have officially seen one! There is a trainer at the gym I go to who is scowling all the time. She always looks like she is angry at the world and the fact that she has man arms makes it all worse. She literally looks like a man, not even an attractive kinda girly man. It’s a full blown crazy steroid woman-man!!! She also kinda struts around the gym glaring at everyone. Oh, and she pretends to critique the male trainers of their workouts as an excuse to stroke their muscles…weird. So I will relay my terrible situation with her today via badly drawn cartoons…
Yea…hopefully you don’t have one of those at your gym.
Fear not, more posts will be here soon. These are the times I wish I had an epic legit professional camera so I could take some boss photos and blow everyone’s mind with my creativity. But alas, I only have my phone. Phones fail picture wise. So in the meantime, enjoy the break and cuddle by a fire somewhere. ^.^
This is a rather difficult post. I have thought long and hard about this subject and it has taken me a decent amount of observation to figure out an accurate explanation to my everlasting relationship problems. The closest thing I can compare my self to is a work of art, statue, painting etc… I am certainly more open and conversational than a inanimate object but I’m speaking in strict metaphorical terms. A work of art is often called beautiful and praised for various reasons. Even with all of the praise and attention a work of art gets, does a work of art ever look into a mirror? No. I can’t look in a mirror for extended amounts of time. In fact I hate objects that show my reflection. This work of art is its own worst critic.
I have thought extensively about the comparison to a statue. A statue can be beautiful, usually a bit large, praised often, stared at and admired, difficult to truly understand, and can be quite frightening when the story behind it is revealed. I am like a statue in the sense that I usually get immediate attention. I do not usually seek attention, it just happens. Boys are often attracted to me or interested in me. Just as a statue is treated, I usually get stared at or admired from a distance. When a man comes across a beautiful statue, he admires it intensely. He tries to understand it and may even get addicted to it. Either the man gives up on trying to comprehend the work or he runs across something that scares him away. Everything about a statue is on display. If someone really wants to know everything about that statue he can simply read the description (asking) or can be with the statue long enough. The problem comes when the person loses patience or finds something scary or complicated.
What happens when this transition of appeal happens? The man leaves. Some look back and some are afraid to. He eventually finds a smaller copy of the statue. Smaller but similar. He will usually find a girl who has similar qualities but is usually threatened by the statue. The statue does nothing to threaten the girl but the girl always feels uncomfortable around the statue. Non-theless, the statue remains the object of praise, adoration, admiration, and attention but is always left for the second choice. In the end the statue is left to question what she did wrong and continue avoiding mirrors. This is the reason I have and probably will remain single. Depressing isn’t it?
I already know the first thought that will be in many minds when they see this blog, “What’s a quarter-life crisis??” (said in an annoying nasaly voice). The answer to this question is simple; it’s like a mid-life crisis except with older teenagers. In fact, we as humans have many semi-crisises in our lives. I remember my first crisis. When I was curious enough to stick my little 3 year old head between the stair railings at my Grandmother’s house and I couldn’t get it back out. I was literally afraid the rails were going to choke me and I was going to die. All I could do was yell “help” in my shrill little kid voice. When my father came to jerk my head from between the railings I was afraid my head was going to get crushed…needless to say I was wailing in tears the entire time. I felt like my father had heroically saved me from a certain horrendous death by stair railings. I clung to him for the next few hours.
My next crisis was when my stuffed animal named bedtime bunny fell behind my headboard and my scrawny child arms were too short to reach him. This event happened right after Toy Story 2 came out. The entire time I was killing my arm to try and reach my bunny I had the thought of Jessie the doll being left under her owner’s bed and forgotten. I was terrified of losing bedtime bunny and once again I was wailing in tears as if that actually accomplished something. After an hour of failing to retrieve bedtime bunny, I ran to my mother screaming and crying because I thought I had lost my best friend forever in the terrors of the world under my bed. (Under the bed was a scary place when I was 3 or 4ish). Unfortunately for my mother, she was having a scrapbook party with many of her friends that night…embarrassing to say the least. When she saw me crying in hysteria with a red arm she assumed I had hurt myself. She somehow understood what I was saying between my sobs and used her all-knowing parental wisdom and power to fix the situation. She walked into my room, I pointed to my bed and she reached behind my bed and unwedged bedtime bunny from his prison. She had saved my best friend from the evil land of under my bed and hope was restored again. She was definitely my hero.
I use these stories to throw you back to the old memories of little crisis points in your life. We all know that they happened. This blog was inspired by a conversation I had earlier with a friend of mine named Alejandro (sexy name right?). We were hanging out and stuffing our face in taco bell and he mentioned how he was having his “quarter-life crisis”. This point in life is happening to my college age generation at the moment. We are at the point in our lives when we literally say, “What the heck am I doing with my life??” and, “I don’t know what to do!”, and “I’m so young, how do I already owe the government money??”. We are at a crossroads where our entire lives unfold like a blank map and it is our job to decide our destination…scary right? The thing that entertains me at this point is the thought of the other crisises to come. When we hit our mid-life crisis we will again say, “What the heck am I doing with my life??” and something else about how we will owe the government money. Then when we hit our old age we will say, “Where the heck did my life go?” and, “Did I make a positive impact on anything?”. Well, maybe that last thought about the positive impact isn’t the most common last thought but it is certainly something to think about.
The question for you is, “What do we do when we get our head stuck, when all seems lost, when our life is confusing, or when we can’t help but break down in tears in a random bathroom stall?”. The little counselor in me can’t help but pop out in this opportunity to help confused people. Honestly, we need to revert beck to how we solved these problems as little kids. That doesn’t mean we should scream and cry or throw a little kid tantrum. I say to revert back to little kid ways so that we can relate to my earlier stories. When our head is stuck and all seems lost, all we need to do is call for help in our shrill little voices. People can think of help in different ways such as: professional counseling, talking with friends and family members, talking with God, or doing some sort of stress relieving activity. Personally, I like combining as many of these options as I possibly can. Lets face it, dealing with a crisis at any age is tough. So no matter what age, help is never over rated and is always available.
As a side note, bedtime bunny still sits on my bed and I still hug him when I’m having a crisis :)
Haha, when all fails you can at least be happy that you aren’t forever alone!
I checked online and my friends were gone so I cried on my face. (That part was for Alejandro…he gets the joke).
It has been much too long since I have posted anything. Now is a fantastic time to speak my mind (as if I didn’t do that enough as it is). Today I will be ranting about the pointless drone of drama. No I do not mean the awesome drama of the theater. I am speaking of the ball ripping, ear raping, innocence molesting absurdity that is labeled “drama”. Yes, all of you hormone raging middle schoolers, I am speaking to you. Even if you are not a middle schooler, you must be acting like one in order for this post to apply to you. I shall be blunt…grow some hypothetical balls and deal with it! There are few things in this world that truly irk me:
1.) Crappy drivers
2.) Actual racism
3.) Metagame and poison counter decks (for Magic dorks)
3.) People obsessed over freaking out about nothing
There is my concise list.
Of course I will not freak out and complain about drama because that only increases the drama until everyone is caught in a crappy rerun of One Tree Hill. However, I will use intellect and the use of satire to deride a common folly that is prevalent in even the most astute settings. Everyone has referred to the common phrase “drama queen”, even when the “queen” is a male (which makes the situation even more amusing). Personally, I believe that the universal association with freaking out over nothing should be associated with the female menstruation.
CAUTION: I WILL BE SPEAKING GRAPHICALLY IN A METAPHORICAL SENSE. PREPARE YOURSELVES!!!
Yes, I am talking about that time of the month where the ugly lady in the red dress invades your abode to crash the party and steal all of the drinks. She has some serious issues. Contrary to scientific belief, men have periods too. I like to call these little spells “meriods”. Whenever drama peaks its disfigured head over the horizon I decide to settle it by telling everyone, including the men, to get over there period. When I am speaking directly to a male about there involvement in unneeded drama I candidly inform them that they better get over their meriod or I will grab the biggest manpon I can find and violently shove it up there mangina. Epic win.
To close this little rant I will please you all with a fan-freaken-tastic insanity wolf…
Alright, I finally made it to my facility of higher education. I honestly can not contain my excitement about this new journey! As soon as I stepped onto the campus I fit right in. I found my friends and made many new ones the first day I came. Classes haven’t even started yet and I feel like I belong and I have a bond with many of my professors. (That part may sound weird so disregard the strangeness). My roommate is not psychotic and I think we have hit it off pretty well so far….we kinda have to because our room is the size of a tiny jail cell. Sure some people are annoying and judgmental but hey, that’s just society for ya. Some may have thought I was insane for coming to a Christian university with rules and stuff but it really isn’t bad. In fact, it’s freaken awesome!! I only have a curfew for the first year I am here and I can still do everything I want to do.
Today marked the first activity with my gateway group. Now is the time in the blog when I relay some touching story. We all had to where our Deke Day t-shirts and volunteer out at nursing homes. You may think this activity is not cool but it was an amazing experience. We had the opportunity to make people happy by our mere presence. People who get that excited to see you make you feel really special. I have volunteered in nursing homes before but I have never had something happen like it did today. Me and two of my friends were helping with a certain group of women. We painted their nails and just talked to them about their lives and their families. This one woman that I was with most of the day nearly made me cry. She had a stroke in the past and it took her ability of speech. She never got much attention from her family and she never gets visitors. Her friend told us that she doesn’t have many ways of expressing herself but she cries when she is overcome by any emotion. She was so thankful and happy for us to be with her that she completely broke down in tears and held my hand. The whole experience was just indescribable and it reminded me of one of the reasons I picked the school that I did…to be a servant to those in need.
Is anyone naturally horrible at directions? If you are, you suffer from a common problem shared by me and millions of other people in desperate need of a GPS. It can be mind blowing when you think of how a couple decades ago there were no such things as robotic voice attachments in your car or phone that commanded you on where to go. Well, the answer to direction problems in the past was fairly simple…they used maps. Holy crap! South Carolina girl in Miss Teen USA may have actually had some kind of point in that twisted mess of “such as” and “education in South Africa”! Many people shudder at the thought of pulling out a road map much too big to look at while driving and actually find their way around. The positive part about pulling out that huge foldable map is that it is always reliable. That map will never tell you to turn at a certain intersection and then change its mind and tell you to turn around. I personally believe that the GPS was called Global Positioning System for a specific reason; it may not always give you the right way to go but it can definitely yell at you for being in the wrong position. (And no, that was not intended to sound dirty).
I had a difficult directions experience today and it fueled the fire for my post. I was asked to babysit for a friend last minute. I was happy to help and in serious need of money so of course I accepted. The only problem is she lives in downtown Atlanta about an hour and a half from my house. I had never gone this way before so I consulted maps online. I’m not sure if I can say which site because my story might discourage readers from using it. Once I had printed out directions, I felt confident that technology had given me the answer once again. The directions lead me in a complete circle and I discovered that there are seven different names for one road. Of course the directions did not provide a single right name out of the seven possibilities. I even stopped at a random Auto Zone to ask for directions. That experience taught me to never enter a place where at least five men will try to give directions at the same time…it ends in confusion and raised voices. I did eventually find my way because I used the sun as a compass…yes I did the boy scout trick.
All of this babbling was used to say this: it’s useful to keep a good ol map in the glove box or you may end up with a GPS screwing you over and then insulting you in that creepy robot voice.
This is my proof that I have decided, with careful thought, to become what I have made fun of time and time again; a blogger. For anyone who is prepared to follow me and read through my nonsense, I am eternally grateful. I will use this first blog to explain my thoughts on this whole blog idea and what readers may find in my posts. I would try to explain my personality or style but I think you will discover it through my posts. Here are some common questions one may ask me about this new hobby in my life…
Why did you start blogging?- I honestly have no idea. It was 2:13am Sunday morning and the thought crossed my mind to put my random ramblings on the internet.
What will you post in your blog?- Anything and everything. I don’t know how these things work so I will use it however I want.
How would you describe yourself or style?- Details will come with later blogs but in general I would have to say…Rocker meets hippie and has a love child. But this explanation has absolutely no connotation to my parents because sadly I would never describe either of my parents as a rocker or hippie.
I’m out of questions so if you have any, just ask.