1 week from today, I will be on a plane from California. I will have sung “Happy Birthday” (Marilyn Monroe-style) to Corey. I will have served as Tiffany’s wake-up call after a couple of long nights discussing…things. I will have judged a total of 24 hours and made comments like “some good ideas” and “higher releve” and “work that turn sequence”. I will have participated in karaoke. I will have shopped for candy for the judges’ table. I will have over-indulged in sushi, “In And Out Burger”, margaritas and boxed wine. I will have rocked a couple of new ‘judging’ outfits, including shoes that are not meant to be walked in for long periods of time. I will have chanted “Hyphie 4 Lyphie… I’ma be yo’ wifey!” at LEAST a dozen times. I will have posed for “senior photos” (perhaps again in the parking lot). I will have NOT gotten lost in L.A. again. I will have laughed way too much.
And… I will have been in contact with… my Kryptonite.
I was not made aware of his presence until a couple of weeks ago. I ASSUMED he wouldn’t be there this year, since he WAS there last year, but…
Just as I do with preparation for ANY trip, I have compiled a checklist… in addition to my packing list (Note to self: Remember, “Lady Eloise”), I have a new type of checklist…
Kryptonite Do’s & Don’t’s:
DO
Say “hello” when I see him.
DON’T
Pounce on him like a rabid spider monkey, with ADD, who hasn’t eaten in 4 days.
DO
Smile brightly when he compliments me (as he always does).
DON’T
Lick his face like he’s the last pop sickle in the middle of August.
DO
Chat with him, while having dinner.
DON’T
“Accidentally” drop my napkin and “disappear” underneath the table.
DO
Give a flirty wink when he walks past.
DON’T
Give him my hotel room key. Tiffany wouldn’t dig it… Perhaps COREY and I should room together…
DO
Keep a level head when he touches the small of my back (which he ALWAYS does).
DON’T
Immediately lay on the floor, on my hands and knees.
DO
Blog about what did actually occur.
DON’T
END UP IN JAIL FOR KIDNAPPING! *fingers (and legs) crossed*
Monday, April 14, 2008
Perhaps someday, they will find a cure! (Part 2)
Friday, April 4, 2008
A Funny Thing Happened While Brushing My Teeth
It was a typical weekday morning. My alarm went off at 6:45am. I hit snooze about 3 times. I headed straight to the guest bathroom (which is where I do my hair) switched on my curling iron and proceeded to the kitchen. That’s where I iron. I turned it on and, while still in that morning haze, made my way to the master bath.
It was while I was brushing my teeth, hunched over the face basin, with one eye open, that I noticed something different about my nose. It was the same shape, same size, definitely the same color… BUT… there were freckles… Yes, freckles. On the bridge of the nose I inherited from my father, were an array of dark brown spots. Huh?!?!?!
After a few moments of searching for more of these newcomers, I continued to prepare to leave for the office. Once I arrived, I got settled in, checked my emails and called my mother. I told her what I had found. She could not believe I hadn’t noticed them before.
She said I’d had freckles since college, probably due to all of those days on the sidelines of football games, working YMCA camps, teaching dance and cheer camps…and so on. Huh?!?!?!
How is it that I have missed such a prominent characteristic, for so many years?
Later that day, while enjoying “Soupman” at Northpark Center and texting a friend in Florida (about dating), a question was posed. “What type of man do you want to be with?” I had a moment of clarity. An “Aha Moment” as Oprah refers to it.
Physical characteristics aside, I want to be with a man who knows that when I am not making eye contact, it’s because I think he’s beautiful. A man who knows that when I cover my mouth with my fingers, it’s because I'm holding back. A man who notices the beauty mark below my chin and on the inside arch of my foot. A man who knows that when I hum while chewing gum, it’s because I’m nervous. A man who notices that when I tap my foot, tears will soon follow. A man who notices that my brown eyes become a bit more amber during the summer months. A man who notices the tiny scar on the inside of my wrist. A man who knows that I'm not really the handful I portray myself to be. He knows when I'm hiding. He knows when I feel unsafe. He has memorized all of my secret tickle spots.
He knows that even when I'm running wild, there is still a sense of calm...because he sees me... REALLY sees me...
He notices the little things... the details... like the freckles on my nose.
It was while I was brushing my teeth, hunched over the face basin, with one eye open, that I noticed something different about my nose. It was the same shape, same size, definitely the same color… BUT… there were freckles… Yes, freckles. On the bridge of the nose I inherited from my father, were an array of dark brown spots. Huh?!?!?!
After a few moments of searching for more of these newcomers, I continued to prepare to leave for the office. Once I arrived, I got settled in, checked my emails and called my mother. I told her what I had found. She could not believe I hadn’t noticed them before.
She said I’d had freckles since college, probably due to all of those days on the sidelines of football games, working YMCA camps, teaching dance and cheer camps…and so on. Huh?!?!?!
How is it that I have missed such a prominent characteristic, for so many years?
Later that day, while enjoying “Soupman” at Northpark Center and texting a friend in Florida (about dating), a question was posed. “What type of man do you want to be with?” I had a moment of clarity. An “Aha Moment” as Oprah refers to it.
Physical characteristics aside, I want to be with a man who knows that when I am not making eye contact, it’s because I think he’s beautiful. A man who knows that when I cover my mouth with my fingers, it’s because I'm holding back. A man who notices the beauty mark below my chin and on the inside arch of my foot. A man who knows that when I hum while chewing gum, it’s because I’m nervous. A man who notices that when I tap my foot, tears will soon follow. A man who notices that my brown eyes become a bit more amber during the summer months. A man who notices the tiny scar on the inside of my wrist. A man who knows that I'm not really the handful I portray myself to be. He knows when I'm hiding. He knows when I feel unsafe. He has memorized all of my secret tickle spots.
He knows that even when I'm running wild, there is still a sense of calm...because he sees me... REALLY sees me...
He notices the little things... the details... like the freckles on my nose.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Central Market is Life. The Rest is Just Details!
Central Market. If you’ve never been fortunate enough to visit, you are highly lacking. Some refer to it as a grocery store. It’s MUCH more than that. How many ‘grocery stores’ offer wine (by the glass) as you enter? I know that shopping can be stressful for me, so a glass of vino may help me decide between the organic brown rice or the risotto.
As one travels thru CM, as the ‘in crowd’ calls it (not really), you will notice a Paciugo ice cream shop, extensive salad/soup/sandwich bars, prepared meals (from sushi to enchiladas for one.. or two), an incredible array of meats/cheeses, the most beautiful produce outside of the islands and the occasional item you would also find at a Kroger Signature. Arrive on the right day, at the right time… and there are samples! Lots of samples! Oh, and the cooking classes! So much! I’m getting excited just thinking about it!
Oh but wait!!!! There’s more!
One can not forget… the bakery!
The first time I ever visited CM, it was on a whim. I had no idea that it could be even better than Simon David (Tom Thumb’s version of luxury grocery shopping). Oh, but it was. I didn’t even purchase anything, because I was on sensory overload. My next visit, I purchased fruit. The next visit, I was a bit more brave. I was with Miriam and picked up a bottle of Muscato and a few pastries.
As the months pass, I find myself visiting CM at least a couple of times per month.
My most recent visit was Saturday evening. After a long day of stress, followed by retail therapy, I was craving CM. I had already eaten dinner, but needed something sweet. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew it would be at CM. So, I headed south on Greenville. As I made the left turn onto Lover’s Lane, I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus (maybe it was the radio).
I found myself in the bakery. There were petits fours (my favorite dessert as a child). They were absolutely precious. But, not what I wanted. My eye was drawn to two creations: the strawberry shortcake and the chocolate mousse cake slice. I normally buy the petite chocolate mousse cake (yes, a single serving). I love the combination of my favorite flavor, with the cake, mixed with the mousse. YUM! But… strawberry shortcake, while not new to me, wasn’t something I typically am drawn to. I enjoy strawberries (although I have been known to have allergic reactions to some), am always a fan of whipped cream and once again, there’s cake. One is a bit more dangerous (to my hips and thighs), but is comforting. Soothing. The other is lighter, less dangerous. Not as decadent.
I stood there for 10 minutes, trying to decide.
I picked BOTH.
I wasn’t necessarily planning on eating both. That would be messy. But, I wanted to know that I could have either. That both would be available... at 3am.
So, there I sat, after a hot shower and some reading… on my living room floor (which is normally reserved for Fruity Pebbles). I kept trying to decide… Chocolate or Strawberry? Dangerous or Semi-Safe?
I grabbed the Strawberry Shortcake… but, took a bite of the Chocolate Mousse Cake.
I didn’t want to be greedy. But, I couldn't resist the temptation.
Perhaps I would have been better off with Fruity Pebbles…but they don’t sell those at Central Market!
As one travels thru CM, as the ‘in crowd’ calls it (not really), you will notice a Paciugo ice cream shop, extensive salad/soup/sandwich bars, prepared meals (from sushi to enchiladas for one.. or two), an incredible array of meats/cheeses, the most beautiful produce outside of the islands and the occasional item you would also find at a Kroger Signature. Arrive on the right day, at the right time… and there are samples! Lots of samples! Oh, and the cooking classes! So much! I’m getting excited just thinking about it!
Oh but wait!!!! There’s more!
One can not forget… the bakery!
The first time I ever visited CM, it was on a whim. I had no idea that it could be even better than Simon David (Tom Thumb’s version of luxury grocery shopping). Oh, but it was. I didn’t even purchase anything, because I was on sensory overload. My next visit, I purchased fruit. The next visit, I was a bit more brave. I was with Miriam and picked up a bottle of Muscato and a few pastries.
As the months pass, I find myself visiting CM at least a couple of times per month.
My most recent visit was Saturday evening. After a long day of stress, followed by retail therapy, I was craving CM. I had already eaten dinner, but needed something sweet. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew it would be at CM. So, I headed south on Greenville. As I made the left turn onto Lover’s Lane, I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus (maybe it was the radio).
I found myself in the bakery. There were petits fours (my favorite dessert as a child). They were absolutely precious. But, not what I wanted. My eye was drawn to two creations: the strawberry shortcake and the chocolate mousse cake slice. I normally buy the petite chocolate mousse cake (yes, a single serving). I love the combination of my favorite flavor, with the cake, mixed with the mousse. YUM! But… strawberry shortcake, while not new to me, wasn’t something I typically am drawn to. I enjoy strawberries (although I have been known to have allergic reactions to some), am always a fan of whipped cream and once again, there’s cake. One is a bit more dangerous (to my hips and thighs), but is comforting. Soothing. The other is lighter, less dangerous. Not as decadent.
I stood there for 10 minutes, trying to decide.
I picked BOTH.
I wasn’t necessarily planning on eating both. That would be messy. But, I wanted to know that I could have either. That both would be available... at 3am.
So, there I sat, after a hot shower and some reading… on my living room floor (which is normally reserved for Fruity Pebbles). I kept trying to decide… Chocolate or Strawberry? Dangerous or Semi-Safe?
I grabbed the Strawberry Shortcake… but, took a bite of the Chocolate Mousse Cake.
I didn’t want to be greedy. But, I couldn't resist the temptation.
Perhaps I would have been better off with Fruity Pebbles…but they don’t sell those at Central Market!
Friday, February 8, 2008
WIZdom...
"When I think of home,
I think of a place where there's love overflowing
I wish I was home
I wish I was back there with the things I been knowing"
When I hear “Home” from “The Wiz”, I don’t think of ‘home’ in the typical sense. Yes, I enjoy being with my family, arguing, laughing, crying, eating, watching scary movies, cheering on the Cowboys… But, when I think of “home”, I think of the one place I can go where I won’t be afraid, where I won’t doubt myself, where I know it’s okay for me to lose control and surrender everything… without feeling vulnerable, without feeling as though I could be judged, without feeling as though I could disappoint.
And that place is inside of a lyric, highlighted by the harmony, the melody, and interpreted by the movement… my movement.
I remember those days (and nights) in Kansas, when I would arrive to the studio a couple of hours before my dancers. I would stretch for 30 minutes, grab a cd and just hit play. Some days, the music wouldn’t matter. Other days, I chose the music very carefully. I would leap, turn, jump and sometimes, just sit in the center of the floor (in the dark) and just sway… even swaying is movement… is dancing. I was still performing, also. In a couple of companies, for a few community theater groups and enjoying every moment.
It’s been 3 years since I returned to Dallas from Kansas. And I am disappointed to say, I haven’t taken any time to dance. I’ve taken a few classes, attended a few workshops, but it’s been choreography, consulting, and judging. I have taken no real time to dance for me.
"Suddenly my world has changed it's face
But I still know where I'm going
I have had my mind spun around in space
And yet I've watched it growing"
With all of the changes (positive and negative) that have occurred in my life over the last year, I feel that now is the perfect time to go back ‘home’. For the past 1095 days, although I am surrounded by friends, by family, by opportunity, there is still a bit of myself that seems to be missing. And, I think I left that part of me in my old studio, in that college town, in Kansas.
"If you're list'ning God
Please don't make it hard to know "
Wednesday night, after an emotionally charged rehearsal, while a few remained in Studio A, I went into Studio B, lay on the floor and cried my way thru a prayer… I prayed for many things, but one of those things was for the bravery to return “home”… to take time, even if only for a bit, to dance again… even if only without the make-up, the costumes, the audience... if only just for me. To allow everything that binds me to be released, released thru the movement, just as it used to be.
"And I've learned
That we must look inside our hearts
To find a world full of love
Like yours
Like mine...
Like Home."
I don’t need to talk about it. I don’t need to write about it. I just need to DANCE about it.
I think of a place where there's love overflowing
I wish I was home
I wish I was back there with the things I been knowing"
When I hear “Home” from “The Wiz”, I don’t think of ‘home’ in the typical sense. Yes, I enjoy being with my family, arguing, laughing, crying, eating, watching scary movies, cheering on the Cowboys… But, when I think of “home”, I think of the one place I can go where I won’t be afraid, where I won’t doubt myself, where I know it’s okay for me to lose control and surrender everything… without feeling vulnerable, without feeling as though I could be judged, without feeling as though I could disappoint.
And that place is inside of a lyric, highlighted by the harmony, the melody, and interpreted by the movement… my movement.
I remember those days (and nights) in Kansas, when I would arrive to the studio a couple of hours before my dancers. I would stretch for 30 minutes, grab a cd and just hit play. Some days, the music wouldn’t matter. Other days, I chose the music very carefully. I would leap, turn, jump and sometimes, just sit in the center of the floor (in the dark) and just sway… even swaying is movement… is dancing. I was still performing, also. In a couple of companies, for a few community theater groups and enjoying every moment.
It’s been 3 years since I returned to Dallas from Kansas. And I am disappointed to say, I haven’t taken any time to dance. I’ve taken a few classes, attended a few workshops, but it’s been choreography, consulting, and judging. I have taken no real time to dance for me.
"Suddenly my world has changed it's face
But I still know where I'm going
I have had my mind spun around in space
And yet I've watched it growing"
With all of the changes (positive and negative) that have occurred in my life over the last year, I feel that now is the perfect time to go back ‘home’. For the past 1095 days, although I am surrounded by friends, by family, by opportunity, there is still a bit of myself that seems to be missing. And, I think I left that part of me in my old studio, in that college town, in Kansas.
"If you're list'ning God
Please don't make it hard to know "
Wednesday night, after an emotionally charged rehearsal, while a few remained in Studio A, I went into Studio B, lay on the floor and cried my way thru a prayer… I prayed for many things, but one of those things was for the bravery to return “home”… to take time, even if only for a bit, to dance again… even if only without the make-up, the costumes, the audience... if only just for me. To allow everything that binds me to be released, released thru the movement, just as it used to be.
"And I've learned
That we must look inside our hearts
To find a world full of love
Like yours
Like mine...
Like Home."
I don’t need to talk about it. I don’t need to write about it. I just need to DANCE about it.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Girls, don't believe the hype!
While driving to Oklahoma City last night, I listened to the cd that I burned on Itunes. That particular playlist is named "Thoughts". As I sang my way up 35North, I began to think about a lot of things that have been on my mind lately. Some specific, some general. All about life. And just as I passed the exit for Turner Falls (blog-worthy another time), I recalled those days in elementary school... the days of making 'friendship bracelets', birthdays at Chuck E. Cheese's, tea and slumber parties, tether ball and New Edition... Those were days when, if a young lady wanted to know what her future had in store for her, there was one thing she could do, one way to 'see' her way into her life, one way to know who she would marry, how many kids (if any) she would (or would not) have, what kind of vehicle she would drive and what type of home she would live in... It only required a few things:
- A pen and paper to draw a box (first and foremost)
- The names of your crushes (listed to the left)
- The numbers 1, 0, 3 and 2 (listed to the right)
- 4 types of vehicles (listed at the bottom)
AND on top of the box...
- The namesake to this method of fortune telling... M.A.S.H. (which, if you are male and/or lived under a rock, was code for Mansion, Apartment, Shack and House)
When ready, I would draw the whirlpool thing, stop (based on instinct) and begin to count the lines drawn.
BAM!!!! My life was pre-determined... already laid out... based on the outcome of M.A.S.H.!!!! Or, so I naively thought. And then... I reached high school... then college... then real life. And M.A.S.H., I've learned... is a complete waste of time.
I wish someone would have told me that M.A.S.H. was about as 'real' as a purple cow.
If only it were that easy to figure things out. I never married that boy in Miss Strahan's class and have no children (although I had the names picked out)... I did, however, get the car and the apartment. So, the glass is half-full, right?
Well, I need to go. It's late. I'm hungry. And, I need to find a pen, paper and.................. play some Tic Tac Toe!
:-)
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Perhaps someday, they will find a cure. (Part 1)
Everyone has a weakness. But, because I'm a Taurus, by definition, I am doomed to desire all things decadent...
But nothing... absolutely nothing sends my pulse into a frenzy like the man who was, is and may always be known as my 'kryptonite'. Remember, Superman? Not even Lois Lane had the affect that "kryptonite" had on him. Be it good or bad. A friend warned me about this type of man. Disarming. Charming. Handsome. Confident. Charismatic. And, most of all...dangerous.
The first time we met, it took every ounce of strength I had to remain conscious.
But nothing... absolutely nothing sends my pulse into a frenzy like the man who was, is and may always be known as my 'kryptonite'. Remember, Superman? Not even Lois Lane had the affect that "kryptonite" had on him. Be it good or bad. A friend warned me about this type of man. Disarming. Charming. Handsome. Confident. Charismatic. And, most of all...dangerous.
The first time we met, it took every ounce of strength I had to remain conscious.
My mother, a former campaign director for the Democratic party, once told me that Bill Clinton, in the midst of over 1000 campaign supporters, made her feel as though she was the only person in the ballroom. That night, my "kryptonite" had the same affect on me... in a city of 600, 000.
One would think that since I do not see him more than a few times a year, that it would be almost impossible to remember much about him. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Well, it's not so easy. Just because you can't see the wind doesn't mean you don't FEEL it, that it still can't knock you on your rear. Fortunately, for Superman, if he wasn't within arm's reach of kryptonite, he could still melt iron with his gaze. He could still crush the speed of light. Unfortunately for me, I'm not Superman.
Although I know in advance when I will see him, it makes no difference in my physical response. My breath gets shallow. My face gets warm. My knees grow weak. The hairs on my arms begin to raise. And I feel as though I could have been raised by cheetahs... because I am ready to pounce. Have you ever seen those warewolf movies? You know the part where the guy begins to 'change'? That's how I feel. But, I don't want to rip him to shreds... just his clothes. That's the effect of my "kryptonite".
I recently saw him and as usual, I THOUGHT I was prepared to be the picture of decorum. Unfazed. Glacial. On the outside, I may have appeared to be (to outsiders). On the inside, I was a H.A.M. (hot @$$ mess)!
Saturday, December 15, 2007
This is me...
I will forever be the girl who can't sleep without the tv on...
I will forever be the girl who feels it necessary to examine her eyelashes every time she gets into the car.
I will forever be the girl who believes that 3 year olds are the funniest people on the planet.
I will forever be the girl who only eats Fruity Pebbles on the living room floor.
I will forever be the girl who protects her heart to a fault.
I will forever be the girl who cries after ANYTHING created by Mia Michaels.
I will forever be the girl who laughs at the most inappropriate times.
I will forever be the girl who would rather ask for forgiveness than permission.
I will forever be the girl who is barefoot at her desk.
I will forever be the girl who can make a fantastic loaded baked potato in the microwave.
I will forever be the girl who could kiss for hours.
I will forever be the girl who dances in the elevator when alone.
I will forever be the girl who pretends to be brave.
I will forever be the girl who believes she has seen her guardian angel.
I will forever be the girl who tears up when describing my relationship with my best friend.
I will forever be the girl who wishes that love was something that she could understand.
I will forever be the girl who hides.
I will forever be the girl who daydreams.
I will forever be the girl who likes to pinch when someone least expects it.
I will forever be the girl who doesn't take her own advice.
I will forever be the girl who flirts.
I will forever be the girl who says 'please' and 'thank you'.
I will forever be the girl who wonders 'what if?'.
I will forever be the girl who can keep a secret.
I will forever be the girl who enjoys toe fishing at PKL.
I will forever be the girl who believes in "America's Team".
I will forever be the girl who traces her steps.
I will forever be the girl who can't watch herself dance.
I will forever be the girl who would rather freeze than suffer through the Texas heat.
I will forever be the girl who falls for the bad boys who have good intentions.
I will forever be the girl who weakens at the site of images of Jesus.
I will forever be the girl who sometimes cleans in heels.
I will forever be the girl who can play a mean game of Candy Land.
I will forever be the girl who believes in the possibility of faeries.
I will forever be the girl who wishes she could relive those special moments at HSU!
I will forever be the girl who sees beauty in the most horrible of relationships.
I will forever be the girl who is thankful for her family… especially her ever so perfect brother.
I will forever be the girl who wants to cuddle.
I will forever be the girl who laughs loudly.
I will forever be the girl who tears up when attracted to someone.
I will forever be the girl who feels invisible in rooms filled with people.
I will forever be the girl who stretches before bed.
I will forever be the girl who gets grossed out when her mom asks those personal 'lady' questions.
I will forever be the girl who pouts.
I will forever be the girl who prefers to ride in the back seat on road trips.
I will forever be the girl who cringes at excuses.
I will forever be the girl who talks to God.
I will forever be the girl who wonders "Why?".
I will forever be the girl who puts up a front.
I will forever be the girl who strives to prove you wrong.
I will forever be the girl who fights for the underdog… unless the underdog is playing the Cowboys.
I will forever be the girl who wonders what would have happened if she had said, "Yes."
I will forever be the girl who tests.
I will forever be the girl who is searching for the guy who will love her because of all these things… not in spite of them.
I will forever be the girl who feels it necessary to examine her eyelashes every time she gets into the car.
I will forever be the girl who believes that 3 year olds are the funniest people on the planet.
I will forever be the girl who only eats Fruity Pebbles on the living room floor.
I will forever be the girl who protects her heart to a fault.
I will forever be the girl who cries after ANYTHING created by Mia Michaels.
I will forever be the girl who laughs at the most inappropriate times.
I will forever be the girl who would rather ask for forgiveness than permission.
I will forever be the girl who is barefoot at her desk.
I will forever be the girl who can make a fantastic loaded baked potato in the microwave.
I will forever be the girl who could kiss for hours.
I will forever be the girl who dances in the elevator when alone.
I will forever be the girl who pretends to be brave.
I will forever be the girl who believes she has seen her guardian angel.
I will forever be the girl who tears up when describing my relationship with my best friend.
I will forever be the girl who wishes that love was something that she could understand.
I will forever be the girl who hides.
I will forever be the girl who daydreams.
I will forever be the girl who likes to pinch when someone least expects it.
I will forever be the girl who doesn't take her own advice.
I will forever be the girl who flirts.
I will forever be the girl who says 'please' and 'thank you'.
I will forever be the girl who wonders 'what if?'.
I will forever be the girl who can keep a secret.
I will forever be the girl who enjoys toe fishing at PKL.
I will forever be the girl who believes in "America's Team".
I will forever be the girl who traces her steps.
I will forever be the girl who can't watch herself dance.
I will forever be the girl who would rather freeze than suffer through the Texas heat.
I will forever be the girl who falls for the bad boys who have good intentions.
I will forever be the girl who weakens at the site of images of Jesus.
I will forever be the girl who sometimes cleans in heels.
I will forever be the girl who can play a mean game of Candy Land.
I will forever be the girl who believes in the possibility of faeries.
I will forever be the girl who wishes she could relive those special moments at HSU!
I will forever be the girl who sees beauty in the most horrible of relationships.
I will forever be the girl who is thankful for her family… especially her ever so perfect brother.
I will forever be the girl who wants to cuddle.
I will forever be the girl who laughs loudly.
I will forever be the girl who tears up when attracted to someone.
I will forever be the girl who feels invisible in rooms filled with people.
I will forever be the girl who stretches before bed.
I will forever be the girl who gets grossed out when her mom asks those personal 'lady' questions.
I will forever be the girl who pouts.
I will forever be the girl who prefers to ride in the back seat on road trips.
I will forever be the girl who cringes at excuses.
I will forever be the girl who talks to God.
I will forever be the girl who wonders "Why?".
I will forever be the girl who puts up a front.
I will forever be the girl who strives to prove you wrong.
I will forever be the girl who fights for the underdog… unless the underdog is playing the Cowboys.
I will forever be the girl who wonders what would have happened if she had said, "Yes."
I will forever be the girl who tests.
I will forever be the girl who is searching for the guy who will love her because of all these things… not in spite of them.
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