...of a girl who misses her first love.

Let me get this straight first of all - I don't miss my first love, but yet the fun that came with having a first love. Or maybe I do miss my first love. Who knows. All I know is that while I was sitting in my "relaxed pose" at my first yoga class tonight, I could only think of weird first love memories. The instructor told her class to think back to a happy time in our lives and my first thought was the drive-in theater when I was a sophomore in high school with my first love in the backseat....

I'm not a typically lonely or needy person. I don't always have to be in a relationship. In fact, rarely am I in a relationship. Nor do I go on dates. Maybe if I were skinnier I'd be more apt to go on dates...who knows. But in all reality, I do kind of miss the excitement of my first love. My other loves weren't near as exciting. They were the same old kissing leads to touching leads to... well you get the picture. But with the first love, everything was shiny and new. Neither of us had experienced any kind of mental or physical relationship like us before.

My first love is getting married next June and I've been having a lot of reflective thoughts about him. "Could that have been me?" "Should that have been me?" "Holy shit, what if that was me?"

I know that things happen for a reason. And we're not together for a very specific reason. God may never give me something as amazing as a "first love," but hopefully he'll give me true love. Someday. In the long-distance future.

For now - dating? hermm....we'll see about that...

...of the reflective.

Is this the end of the moment or just a beautiful unfolding?

Who knows.

I try to write my posts with a sense of humor. My sense of humor is rather odd, but that's who I am. Tonight, I'm not feeling too funny. Just more or less reflective. My mood may be in direct proportion to the rainy weather, but I could also be realizing that I'm coming to the end of a moment.

My resume:
Five year degree in English (May 2010)...ladeefrickingda
Weaknesses: directionless, emotionally unavailable, chronic fatigue, fatness
Strengths: organized, plays well with others?

And the million dollar question: What the hell am I going to do with my life?

I always had great dreams of making it big somewhere. I wanted to be a doctor, but come to find out I'm really shitty at science. Like really shitty. Then I wanted to be a fashion designer/business owner. I guess I blow at math and accounting, too. Okay, I'll admit, it wasn't so much that I wasn't good at the subjects. But did I try in those classes? Nope. I maybe, MAYBE, went to a total of 5 accounting classes all semester. I was "too busy" or "already knew the information." The D- on my transcript looks like a gaping black hole in an otherwise pretty okay shard of paper. I only entered English because I thought that being an author someday sounded like a good time. I can paint the most vivid pictures in my head only meant for paper and for sharing, but is there really money in writing books or poems? Only if you're a sell-out like Danielle Steele.

So far I've narrowed it down to joining Teach For America or taking the LSAT. Neither of which really trip my complete trigger. Well, Teach For America does, but I'm really nervous that I wouldn't get in. Why would they take me? ME? I may not even apply because I'm so scared of rejection.

So, not only do I have no direction in my immediate career future, but my so-called love life has gone down the shitter too. It's my fault. I turned into that married broad who never, ever wanted to do anything sexually physical with a guy. Seriously, the thought of a cock makes me want to puke. ughhahahhhahaa. I think that may fall under the "emotionally unavailable" category on my resume. I really don't want to be with anyone right now. But what happens in 5, 10, 15 years when I do want to be with someone that all the good ones are taken? What if I passed up the man of my dreams because his frickin' penis made me shiver and crawl into a dark, guarded hole. Will I be regretful that I didn't act now? I suppose everything happens for a reason. I just hope that unwritten law applies to the cynics as well.

...of a stalkerish fat girl

Let me clarify: I'm not really a stalker. Well, not in a professional or creepy sense of the word. Sure, if you give me the name of your girlfriend or perhaps even the name of your boss, I will be able to track that person down in, like, 30 seconds. But again, not in a creepy sort of way. I'll just find out that person's interests, hobbies, relationship status. If facebook doesn't work, then I move to MySpace. If MySpace fails, then off to Twitter, Google, HotorNot, EHarmony. Believe me, I can find people. I can find out if you're dating a creep who pretends to be a doctor. You could just give me a first name and I could still track that person down. It's really quite a talent I must say. Like a regular ol' detective. Sometimes I get caught up stalking people of my own. I have this amazing talent of remembering things...like ex-boyfriend's passwords or security questions. Once again, it's not really in a creepy way. They shouldn't have shared that information with me in the first place. I get caught up looking at old pictures of ex-boyfriends much of the time and wonder what the hell happend to me. When did I become the one who let myself go? I promised myself I would never, EVER be like that. I would never let a guy control my life. Yet, I still ended up letting men control my life - right down to my eating habits. And then I let them ruin my life by stalking them on social networks and finding out they can lose weight much easier than I can. It's realy quite brutal. I should give up my stalkerish days...I may be a much healthier person. But right now, I'm due to chug a beer and smoke a cig and stalk some more.

...of the employed.

I know people are looking for jobs. I'm not ignorant. Recently, a girl in the office said that her friend got a job at Red Robin and supposedly Red Robin receives over 40 applications per day. People are that desperate for jobs.

I have a job. Sure, I'm a student at UNL, but I've also been working for the Athletic Department for four years now and I'm going on my fifth year. I've also held other jobs in college as well. The summer of 2006, I worked 8-4 at one job and 4:30-10 at another. I had no life. And for some reason, I have no money to show for it. Even though I'm not near as busy as I was in 2006, I still wish I could have a break. Somedays, when I think about going to work, I feel like a cartoon character. Literally, I'm just like Wile E. Coyote trying to escape the Road Runner's tricks. You know how Wile E. sometimes sees a terrible mess up ahead (like some TNT ready to blow up in his face), yet he can't stop himself from running into it. That's what I'm like. I have my throttle down and I'm full spead ahead toward work, but I decide last minute to hit the breaks. I don't want to go in. I can see myself kicking up the dust. Screaming and kicking.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't enjoy work. Really, I have it pretty easy. I'm in air conditioning. I have great co-workers. I work in fricking Memorial Stadium for Christ's sake. But there's part of me who just wants to be that normal summer student who works as a lifeguard or at a summer camp. I've never had that chance. Oh well...better than being unemployed.

...of an old jewelry box.

Getting read for bed, I glanced into my closet to find a shrine to Josh Hartnett (siiighhhh...what ever happened to him? I still remember trying to track him down in Minneapolis when I was no older than 14!) I took a quick twitpic of the shrine to show my fellow tweeters what a nerd I am and that's when I saw it: my broken down jewelry box. Mom and Dad gave it to me for my 18th birthday and, planted inside of one of the drawers, was a pair of diamond earrings from my dad. To this day, my 18th birthday remains my favorite.

Somehow my mom managed to strategically place the jewelry box on the shelf of my closet forever. It was like the box was stuck there with crazy glue. After a few of the drawers bonked me in the head, I finally plopped it on my dresser. Nothing appeared to be in the box at first. The first three drawers were completely empty (or perhaps they were full until I dropped them on my head while finagling the box out of the closet...). But the side cabinet did not fail me - it had some fantastic high school earrings and necklaces in its grips. One of the necklaces even appears on my neck in my senior pictures.

Then I ventured onto the bottom drawer. More treasures! Two dime-sized earrings sat side-by-side. They were both for my top ear piercing (in my left ear). Both infected my ear terribly, but I insisted on wearing them constantly. Well, only until my classmates claimed I had cauliflower ear and forced me to see a doctor. I guess my ear was badly infected - who would have guessed?

The next drawer had an unused pair of prom earrings (big fake diamonds surrounding some sort of cheap black jewel), a slider charm bracelet thing (please tell me you remember those! They were the shit back in '04! Instead of being all dangly like a real charm bracelet, the charms were attached to little silver plates-like things which slid nicely into a uniform bracet), and my class ring!! Eeeek!

As I glance down at my class ring, memories fly back to me. Sports, band, the back seat of a 1998 Chrysler Sebring convertible.... I don't think I ever even wore the ring in high school. In fact, I believe we were forced to order them sophomore year. What the heck were the Josten's people thinking? We were required to put our graduation year around the centerpiece, but did they take in account the people who got held back a grade and couldn't graduate in time? I, fortunately, was not one of them, so I will wear the ring around for tonight and place it back in it's tiny little box in the morning.