'i hope you don't mind that i put down in words how wonderful life is now that you're in the world' ~your song (elton john)

when you're little, everything is about emotion. logic isn't in your vocabulary, nor is it in your capacity to act on it. when mean, big-sister susie takes away your favorite doll, crying is a natural reaction. acting on your feeling of loss, you break down into tears. actions are connected with emotions. so strong is the connection, they are inseparable.

granted, later, after experience, children sometimes realize that crying enough will get us what we want... but then it becomes something entirely different. then it becomes logic. then it becomes calculated. then it becomes reason. now, this newfound logic/reason/whatever isn't automatically applied to every aspect of your life. that will take much more than a snotty older sibling and a favorite plaything.

eventually, you fall in love. this first love is pure emotion. it doesn't matter how unreasonable it seems. or that everyone tells you he's lying to you and you deserve better. or that all signs point to him being one of the most ignorant jerks to have ever drawn breath on God's green earth. or that your mother hates him (let's face it, in the end, they always know best). nope, none of that matters, because this love doesn't involve your brain. it involves your heart. your stupid heart.

long story short: you get hurt. he breaks your heart. but seriously, it was only your first love. you get over it. it wasn't that big of a deal. right? well... then it happens again. this time with a friend that disappoints you, a confidante that betrays you, a crush that leads you on, a hookup that you invest too much in, a boy you fall too quickly for. and there goes your stupid heart, getting in the way again. clouding your judgement, making you care about things you shouldn't. because if you didn't care, you wouldn't get hurt...

you figure out that your heart, the source of all of this emotion, is the villain. that's logical. after all, when you start to use logic/reason, you get what you want. experience - a.k.a. susie & co. - has taught you that. and from your experiences, if you could simply 'not care' everything would be simpler, easier, less emotional.

so you distance yourself from your heart. you start thinking through things more. you don't invest as much in the people around you. you plan. you make decisions based on reason, pro/con lists, logic. 'it doesn't make sense to date him right now' so you don't. 'i need a good job that i'll make enough money at to support myself' so your dreams are pushed to the side in favor of doing what you're supposed to. you forget what raw emotion is. because everything else is/has become methodical. you suddenly find yourself unable to tap into that child-like honesty between your actions and your heart. that only leads to trouble. you've learned to always follow your brain. it's safer. and you don't get hurt that way. every action is planned. every emotion is guarded. it becomes second nature.

and then one night, writing in your journal before bed, you realize that you aren't even sure you know how to love anymore.

can we, somehow, find our way back to our heart? because i can't stand being logical any more.

'i want adventure in the great wide somewhere, i want it more than i can tell' ~belle, beauty and the beast

in a desperate attempt to prepare myself for the (hopefully - fingers crossed) impending interviews i'll endure in the coming months, i've been going over questions commonly asked of applicants. i struggle with these types of things. i don't know what the last traumatic event was in my life or how i dealt with it. i probably pretended like i didn't care and walked away (that's generally what i do when things get confusing, but something tells me that's not the answer they're lookin' for). the last time i had to solve a problem was in the grocery store trying to figure out whether or not the cheap brand of macaroni adhered to the dietary stipulations of my new nutrition plan. again, i highly doubt those are the types of problem solving skills my future employer values. surprisingly, one question that i've been faced with before and struggled with suddenly seemed easy to answer: if you could describe yourself in one word, what would it be? restless.

i've been applying to jobs. LOTS of jobs. as a teaching assistant, personal assistant, publishing assistant, editorial assistant, photo assistant, sales and marketing assistant, creative services assistant, assistant to the managing editor of InStyle, administrative assistant… and the list goes on and on. these might seem like a wide array of possible career paths, but they all have three things in common: (1) ASSISTANT, because i sure as heck am not ready to be in charge of anyone (2) i'm probably not actually qualified, nor do i have any relevant experience to make me an even remotely attractive candidate for the position (3) they are far away from middle-of-nowhere, VA.

i ADORE home, especially this time of year – when the corn is already waist high and you know in a few weeks it’ll be towering over you. it's when the air smells like honeysuckle and freshly tilled earth and the daily soundtrack includes the rumble of tractors, creak of the chains on the front porch swing and the sound of grandmama's voice from across the yard. it’s the time of year defined by baseball tournaments, bbq in aluminum foil, sweet tea, bare feet dangling off of tailgates, friday night bonfires, saturdays full of sunshine and weeding flowerbeds, and afternoons that smell like rain followed by evening thunderstorms to clear the air. it’s when the blueberries are getting sweet, but the locals' dispositions are still sweeter. it's finally that time when the rockin chairs start keepin time with the heavy summer breeze. you can taste warm weather on your tongue, and can’t wait to gulp it in. there is so much hope, and promise of what is soon to come.

when i'm here, i don’t particularly want to leave this place. i love it. it’s safe. it’s familiar. my family is here, along with almost everything i've ever known. it would be so easy to get a job close to home, live near (or with) my folks for awhile, go to church in the same place i have for over 20 years, and settle.

settle. that word just doesn't sit right with me.

staying here isn't challenging. and while my parents may argue that it's just plain smart to stay at home to save money, this is my one opportunity to move across the country without anyone or anything holding me back. as of right now i can do anything i want. the options are so vast it’s daunting. if i want to audition to be a disney princess, airfare and my inability to hail a cab are the only things standing between me and the debbie reynolds studio in california. if i want to teach elementary school in north carolina, i just need to get an interview and make someone believe that i'm capable of managing 20ish 6-year-olds. if i want to move to new york, get a job in the publishing industry and live in a glorified closet, i just need to convince my interviewer that sitting duty in the landrum duty office counts as office experience.

i've reached a point at which i can either settle for mediocrity and meander these country roads for eternity, or i can take a shot in the dark and learn to soar. i'm restless. i refuse to live a life of mere existence. and while my dreams and passions aren't all that clear or focused at the moment, they play the most integral role in this adventure.

one thing's for sure: i'm not the sauntering sort - i was born to fly.

'there's a time to listen, a time to talk, and you might have to crawl even after you walk' ~life's a dance (john michael montgomery)

one row back from the front, all the way to the right side of the classroom, there is a little girl (she sits there so that she can daydream). she has a heinously short hairdo - reminiscent of a bowl cut (which came as an attempt to 're-invent' herself when she left elementary school - she thought it was a 'big kid' haircut - wrong). her coke-bottle glasses magnify her eyes to twice their normal size and her high-water-hand-me-down jeans show off her white ankle socks jutting out from her tennis shoes (fashion is not her forte). she knows the answer to the question, but never raises her hand. she is always picked last in gym class and boys openly make fun of her in the hallways. girls think she is weird because she always has her nose stuck in a book.

everyone has an awkward phase, and even though hers was more like an entire novel instead of just a chapter, things were looking up by the time she hit high school. in fact, by senior year she had everything needed to piss everyone else off about how wonderful her life was: captain of the state-title holding cheerleading squad, homecoming queen, valedictorian, first-seed doubles and captain of the tennis team, steady beau, voted "best all-around" for a senior superlative, acceptance into the college of her dreams... but even though she traded her pink and purple flower-rimmed glasses in for contacts, she still felt like that little girl in the middle school classroom.

and sometimes, when i look in the mirror, i still see that small, insecure, glaringly unattractive, self-loathing middle schooler who hates how mean people can be and thinks she will never amount to anything.

the ghosts of who we were will always be with us. and the decisions and choices we make, along with their repercussions, will be right there too. staring us down, taunting us, making us question our very existence, and doing a darn good job of making us feel worthless.

but just because the past will always be with us does not mean we dwell there. in the past. in the negative. people make bad decisions - you can't be anyone if you haven't done anything. should i have compromised my self worth in an attempt to be like everyone else? probably not, but i learned from it. have i made awful decisions that i regretted almost instantaneously? of course, but i am better because of it.

pick yourself up, take a deep breath, and take one step forward. people are there to encourage you. to support you. see yourself for who you are becoming, not who you've been. do not define yourself in terms of your failures, but your aspirations. and do not let those failures hinder your ambitions. you are bigger than the sum of your flaws, indiscretions, and mistakes. you, and only you, have control of your dreams and actions. be the change you want to see in yourself. live it. you are not that awkward, unfortunate middle schooler trapped in a world of hopelessness and unhappiness. you are so much more than what you've done wrong.

i refuse to let who i've been determine who i'll be.

--

so many emotions. so little time.

9 days until graduation.

'i'm not drowning, there's no one here to save' ~king of anything (sara b)

i don't kiss random boys and i don't 'hook-up.' i turn in papers late sometimes, don't always finish the reading for my classes, occasionally speed, and every once in awhile my shoes don't match the clothes i'm wearing. i say dumb things, make inappropriate jokes and forget people's names. i misinterpret what people say. a lot. i am not perfect.

i've come to this realization before. yes. but i'm SO tired of pretending to be someone i'm not around certain people. i spent years living someone else's dream. AND I AM SICK OF IT. i did what i thought would make everyone else happy. i cared entirely too much about what other people thought. i blatantly ignored what i needed and wanted. maybe it was because i was the oldest and had the pleasure of looking after my numerous younger siblings and not worrying about what i wanted. maybe i'm just a glutton for punishment. whatever it was, i'm done. i'm SO tired of censoring what i say around certain people; adapting my personality depending on which group of friends i'm with. and i am SO INCREDIBLY TIRED of letting other people's crappy dispositions and personalities determine and influence mine. so from now on, i'm doing ME. no matter who i'm with. and if you don't like it, you can kiss my ass.

i'm convinced that if people were just upfront from the beginning about their feelings/emotions/undesirable character traits/whatever, fewer hearts would be broken and stronger relationships could be made. at the same time: we need to stop lying to ourselves. it's time to put all the cards on the table. to lay everything on the line. what you see is what you get: this is me. 100%. take it or leave it.

i believe in: myself. being angry. the class of 2011 SENIOR CLASS GIFT. pink. smiling. love. daffodils. laffy taffy jokes. mixed cds. blue eyes. muscular arms. the TRIBE. cephotography. country churches. tailgates. making up goofy moves to songs that come on the radio. rusty. slouchy t-shirts. high cotton. country music. redheads. kissing in the rain. ballroom dancing. picking your nose when you don't have a tissue and you just can't take it any more. mason jars. blogging. wearing granny-panties. sundresses. crooked teeth. polka dots. tractors. wanting the best for those you love. using the hairspray can as a microphone. ribbon. house. kindergarteners. ramen. chocolate. being picky. swinging. driving stick. sweet tea. mark twain. pearls. freckles. sand between my toes. keds. sweating like a boy. running shoes. planners. sisters. bow ties. salt water. trashy reality tv. boys who dress well. gardens. colorful pens. daniel beale. diaries. tweed. paper boy hats. people who play with my hair. genuine compliments. uninhibited laughter. embracing your inability to SING. giggling. bay windows. people who do good without expectations. musicals. differing opinions. 'that's what she said' jokes. grinding. making the ones i love happy. cooking with ham-hock. being a LOSER. the little things. having unrealistic expectations about love. books that scare you. accessories. listening. desk calendars. glee. carmex.

i believe that: jesus christ can save us from our sins, all we have to do is believe in him and ask for forgiveness. the art of bullshit is sometimes completely necessary. there isn't just one person for everyone - i don't need to find 'the one' i need to find one of 'the ones.' texting is not a valid form of communication. just when you think it can't get any worse, it will. my ability to simultaneously dress like a grandmother and pre-schooler is an asset. people will always disappoint you, so stop expecting so much. sometimes folks lose touch, and that's ok. i will never be comfortable wearing thong underwear. actions really do speak louder than words - so shut-up and walk the walk. dancing ridiculously is the ONLY way to dance. you will change the world. friends can do really shitty things, but you forgive them and get over it. on the same note: people change, which means friends change. just because i don't hook up doesn't mean i look down on those who do. holding hands is a really big deal. you will always want the self-satisfaction of having your ex come crawling back [it doesn't matter if you think you're 'over him']. one day i will be an awesome mother. a good cry can work wonders. in a lot of ways i am mean and superficial. bad things happen to good people. not all girls have to like shopping. i deserve better. folding fresh laundry is therapeutic. people treat you like you let them. i've changed more in the last year of college than i did in the first three, in some ways for worse, but in more ways for the better. sometimes, you just need to shut people out. kisses on the forehead are magical. someone is going to talk shit - who cares? mama is always right, no matter what. sweet tea tastes better when you drink it from a mason jar. one of the best feelings is falling in love with music. breakfast tastes better when you make it for supper. one day, he/she will realize how big they fucked up. i am a phenomenal individual who will make a difference. some people aren't worth my time [and vice versa]. it's ok to just walk away occasionally. real friends know the difference between 'i need to look at shoes' upset and 'i need to feel the sand between my toes and rain on my face' kind of upset. you can't always be the bigger person. we lie to ourselves constantly. in the end, you are the only person responsible for your experiences. bad decisions need to be made [you can't be anybody if you haven't done anything]. when the sun sets, you are the only person who has to sleep in the bed you've made - so deal with it or shut the hell up about it.

suck it

:)

'let me riddle you a ditty it's just an itty bitty little thing on my mind' ~happily ever after (he is we)

there are 17 days left of classes. graduation is in 33.

4 years. and it all comes down to 33 days. i have 33 days to laugh as loud as i want with the ones i love. i have 33 days to make memories and more mistakes than i'm willing to admit. i have 33 days to go on ferry rides and stargaze, wander the aisles of the candy store, meander down DoG street, dance around and jump on my bed in my dorm room, pull all-nighters to write that paper i should've been working on for weeks, order cheesy bread and have it delivered to Swem, giggle during staff meeting, go on midnight runs through CW, take pilgrimages to WaWa, chat with the bouncers at the Leafe, sit at the picnic table outside of Chandler. i have 33 days to quote song lyrics while walking to Wren, trip over bricks and watch movies instead of doing homework. i have 33 days to take enough pictures to last me a lifetime. i have 33 days to not give a flying f*ck what anyone thinks.

i have 33 days to say goodbye to the place that has provided me with challenges i thought insurmountable, friends who are unsurpassed and memories i will never forget. w&m has given me the opportunity to run, streak, jump, paint my face and scream at the top of my lungs, laugh enough to render ab workouts unnecessary, cry enough to last me for years and party with Thomas Jefferson for his birthday. 33 days. i have 33 days to say goodbye to the college that changed me in ways that i never thought possible; the institution that gave me countless experiences and opportunities and made me the person i want to be. i have 33 days to say goodbye to home.

now is not the time to question, to pause. now is the time to yell, go crazy, sing, run barefoot in the pouring rain, dance so ridiculously everyone stares. you can sleep later, so stay up late and have conversations that seem trivial now - soon they will hold a special place in your heart. stop second guessing yourself and just do it. believe. laugh. smile. embrace. cry. be scared - it's ok - just don't let it keep you from enjoying this last month. don't waste your time on people who don't deserve it. don't spend these last few days worrying. be in the moment. tell those you love how much they mean to you. stop fretting about the future, the present is what matters. smile like you've never smiled before. close your eyes and relish in the moment. love without boundaries, speak without inhibitions, listen to your music too loud, and have too much fun.

my story isn't coming to a close, but this chapter is almost finished.

live. just be. 33 days to just be. 33 days to just be happy.

'beautiful the mess we are, the honest cries of breaking hearts' ~better than a hallelujah (amy grant)

when i published my previous post i didn't quite feel like it was finished - sitting in church this sunday morning listening to the special, i realized that it wasn't even 1/2 way done. amy grant's 'better than a hallelujah' is one of my absolute favorite songs, and it made me think:

whenever i'm on my way home i briefly feel like i have to confront my past 'self'. the girl all of my friends at home think i am, the person my parents remember, the choir-girl the little old ladies at church expect to see sunday morning walking through the door with a hug to greet them and a cheek for them to kiss. that girl is much different than the one who comes home now. yes, she still runs in dresses even though grandmama tells her it isn't ladylike, makes the tea too sweet, and goes shootin with daddy after church in her sunday shoes, but she's spunkier, more confident, less cautious, and downright ornery compared to the girl who sat across from danny at the supper table 4 years ago. she says things she shouldn't, wears pants to church sometimes (gasp!), asks questions, and doesn't follow blindly like she use to. and i'm terrified that she doesn't measure up to the girl everyone expects to get out of that lime green vw beetle.

so, as usual, my stomach did a little dance as i crested the hill before grandmama's house. the anxiety - that slight flicker of fear and uncertainty that comes from my irrational fear that they aren't going to love me anymore - came back for a split second.

then i saw that red toyota - my pop-pop's truck. and that awful feeling vanished.

you have to understand, this man means everything to me. he is hands down the most resilient, caring, loving individual i have ever been blessed enough to know. most girls say they want to marry a man like their daddy... well, i want to marry one like my pop-pop. when i was cleaning his cabinets out over break i found a huge stack of little plastic cups. he is only one man. there is NO need for him to have over 50 5oz parfait cups from mcdonald's. so when i told him i was going to throw them out he quietly informed me that i couldn't - he used them to for jell-o. when i told him that he could keep a few and i'd get rid of the rest, he said no, that he made jell-o for the workers at mcdonald's in them. yes - that's right - he makes the cashiers and burger-flippers and the drive-thru tellers jell-o. what's more: when i asked him why he was picking up change from the drive through at hardee's - he informed me that he collected it throughout the year and put it in a tin at home, then donated it to the children's fund at church that goes to buy toys for orphans every christmas. yeah.

this is the same man who, when i called him crying about a stupid boy, reminded me that 'one day you're gonna be someone's unforgettable, but until then don't you pay those other boys no mind' - like i said, absolutely amazing.

over the past 4 years i've developed these incredibly deceiving defense mechanisms - many of them include some of the nuances from my last blogpost. they've done a swell job of camouflaging some of my more desirable traits. don't get me wrong, i'm not completely disassociating myself from the girl who now refuses to settle and is no longer a doormat, but with the help of the man i love so much, i've assured myself that who i'm becoming and the sweetheart my family knows can be one-in-the-same. pop-pop reminds me that even with my many faults there are more than enough reasons to love me. so after an entire post spent on airing out my dirty laundry, i've decided that one reassuring myself that i do posses a few redeemable qualities is quite necessary:

i love making people laugh - even though most of the time i'm being laughed at instead of with. i'm caring, insightful at times, loving, and i want nothing more than to make those i love happy. i'm candid, lovable, encouraging, and supportive. i listen well - usually. i can be so, incredibly selfish sometimes, i'll be the first to admit it, but i will drive you 1.5 hours home if you really need me to (even if i have other things i could/should be doing with my time), remember that you have a test next tuesday and wish you luck before and ask you how it went after, and wake up at 6am to bake you a cake for your birthday because i didn't have time to do it the day before.

all of these qualities, and even the ones from my previous post, make me the person that my pop-pop loves. it's who i am. even the little things, like my obsession with mason jars, love for catching lightning bugs, and my unfortunate ability to say extremely inappropriate things at the most inopportune times are occasionally endearing. things that may come as a shock to some, but are normal to my family, are what makes me 'me.' yes - i do clean out the dog pen in my boots and pearls and wrestle with my little brother on the kitchen floor. i still call mama almost every time i cook to make sure that i'm doing everything right. as a matter of fact i DO have a binder that i've cut and pasted pictures from pottery barn, southern living, and better homes and gardens magazines for ideas that i will one day use in my dream-house/garden/beach-getaway/perfect life. i am creative. i am fun. i am cute. i am a complete disaster most of the time. i am spastic. i am ridiculous. i am an absolute mess. i am unexpected - and it is perfect.

"beautiful the mess we are, the honest cries of breaking hearts, are better than a hallelujah sometimes..."
~(better than a hallelujah) amy grant

this morning i finally began to understand that sometimes the things that aren't expected are better than those which are.

'and if you want to leave i can guarantee you won't find nobody else like me' ~follow me (uncle kracker)

i wake up monday to a knock on my door from the little girl that lives down the hall:
'miss caitlin, can you braid my hair today?'
'of course! what's the occasion?'
'it's valentine's day!'

oh. fudge.

moments later i get a text from my sister: happy singles awareness day!
thanks kristen.

don't get me wrong, i have nothing against valentine's day - i made valentines for my friends with cookies and nerdy pickup lines :) - but this hallmark holiday has an uncanny knack for making those of us without valentines feel a little more isolated than usual. this is temporarily resolved by going to see Gnomeo and Juliet and sneaking chips and salsa into the theater, but when the laughter subsides, the stylish 3D glasses come off, and your girlfriends are gone - you're left with your thoughts, generally consisting of (but in no way limited to) 'wait - why don't i have a valentine?'

a few days ago one of my professors dropped some serious knowledge on my significant texts in western religion class: don't get married when you're lonely. dang. i suppose it's true though - it isn't until you understand what it means to be independent and happy with yourself that you can truly appreciate someone else and expect them to appreciate you just as much. if you can't deal with your flaws when you're all alone to face and deal with them yourself - how could anyone else? so this is me, accepting/acknowledging/broadcasting my flaws in an effort to not be lonely... what? whatever:

i realize that i am FAR from perfect. my unhealthy obsession with country music, inability to verbalize and have important conversations, moodiness, general lack of empathy in some situations, prudishness, sarcasm, bitchyness, addiction to trashy music and tv, and distinct deficiency in the way of style are a VERY few of my less-than-desirable qualities. my occasional spaceyness, forgetfulness, stubbornness, and unorganized tendencies, as well as my uncanny ability to make any situation incredibly awkward also rank rather high on the 'things-that-could-drive-anyone-mad' list. i'm not the best driver. i bottle up my emotions until they all rush out at once (usually resulting in my snapping at an inappropriate moment that doesn't warrant a rant/cry, but somehow that's the only way i can deal with it).

phew. this is rough.

i despise making decisions. i bite my fingernails. i am terrible at keeping track of expenses and i worry far too much. it takes A LOT for me to trust someone. i'm annoying in more ways than one. i burp like a man and have mastered what my daddy calls the 'you've done something wrong and will soon feel my wrath' look. i call bullshit far too often - sorry fellas. i micro-manage people, but i've decided that's why i'm going to be an awesome kindergarten teacher. when i get defensive i can be extremely condescending in an effort to not feel like an idiot, which backfires and just makes me look like an ass. i'm a terrible conversationalist and speller. i'm bad at letting people know how much they mean to me. i have a super unattractive resting face. i'm spastic. i would lose my head if it weren't attached to my body - no seriously. i'm mean. i can be SO hateful if provoked. i can't take compliments.

i could go on, but i don't think my ego can handle this much longer.

while i have come to terms with the fact that i need to work on some of these things - i also understand that step 1 to forming healthy relationships with others is to learn to love yourself, all of yourself - even the less-than-socially-acceptable/desirable tendencies/qualities/habits. and honestly, sometimes i'm convinced that i'm actually pretty fabulous - so it's gonna pay off for some guy when he decides he's willing to put up with my manic-spastic-emotional-self. and i have friends - so i must not be too awful.

mama used to tell me that i was perfect because God doesn't make mistakes. i am SO perfectly imperfect - aren't we all?

<3