I'm a pretty normal girl.  I have brown hair, green eyes, freckles, insecurities, hopes, dreams, achievements.  I'm in school, I have a job, a family that cares about me, friendships that are getting stronger by the day.  I have people that don't like me and people that love me.  Like I said, I'm normal.

Except for that pain that resides in my knees.  It alternates, and it always goes back to the origin of my problems.  Usually it's in the left knee, but occasionally it's in the right.  Sometimes it's an ache, sometimes a shooting pain.  They happen when I'm stressed, they happen because I slept on it wrong or the weather changed.  It just...happens.

So, yea, I'm normal.
Except for the fact that I take a shot every month to control pain I would otherwise be in for weeks or months at a time.

I've gone through different medicines.  Steroids, Sulfur pills, anti-inflamatory meds.  Those are only a few.
Here's my thank you to Enbrel. For letting me be a normal, active girl again, who's going to a rock concert in May, an amazing beach trip to Corpus Christi in June, and who is always active, because she remembers what it was like not being able to walk.

Yea, I'm pretty normal.


That Stupid Piece of Metal

Who would have thought a key would scare me this much? It's just a standard key, a piece of metal that fits in my hand. It's nothing cheesy like 'the key to my heart' or what-not. It opens a door, which is in a standard door jam, white, with two locks. It's a key that scares the ever-loving-crap out of me.

It's the key to his house.
This is how much he trusts me.
This is how much he's letting me in.

This is how I know I'm in trouble. The good kind of trouble. The, 'ohmylanta do I really want to be in this kind of trouble?' trouble. The kind that has me picking linens, and venues, and saying, "No, mother, I don't think a ceremony on a pier would be too much, and Yes, if you're wondering, I'd love to have the fishermen sitting there as well." trouble.

I'm screwed.
This, I am certain of.

I go to sleep with a smile on my face every night, and at the risk of seemingly completely bat-shit-insane, everytime he calls me beautiful, I actually start to believe it. So, let's go back to this key.

This is how I know I'm 95% screwed, because I can never be 100% invested in something emotionally, oh no. I always have to have my guard up, and part of me thinks I'm insane.  For what? Well-- here's 8 reasons.

1.) for planning something that we're not even a month into yet
2.) for thinking a Key means so much
3.) for taking a chance.
4.) for risking everything, once again.
5.) for re-thinking my not wanting to have children
6.) for re-thinking my not wanting to even get married
7.) for re-thinking everything I've decided I wanted for myself in the past year.
8.) for having faith.
You have to have it though, right? Without the faith that he cares that much about you, without the faith that he won't hurt you, and if I didn't have faith that this won't end up in a horrible train-wreck waiting to happen way....what the hell am I doing in it in the first place?

I have faith in that key.
I have faith in every single kiss.
I have faith in our pillows.
I have faith in us.
And that scares me more than the stupid key.


If this is Austin, I still love you*

Isn't it funny how the place you want to escape from the most is the place you end up missing the most? It's the place you run away from, but always end up returning.

As I landed in Flint yesterday, I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face. Dreary, depressing, blanketed in white, cold Flint. Where the only good things here are my family and a handful of friends. I love it for what it is and what it was.

Swartz Creek is a great place to grow up. Small Town outside of a once prosperous city (that you can't go into after 10:00 pm for fear of being shot, but still), it's like many American towns. After two hours, though, I sent this text message: "Wish it was time to come home."


To Austin, Texas.

Where there's an almost 13 year old girl who looks up to me, a 16 year old I torture like my little brother, a guy who treats me like I'm the best thing since sliced bread, an Aunt that is teaching me everything I need to learn, things to do no matter what night it is, where you can be country in the city, where my car is currently needing an alternator on the side of the curb.

I can't imagine living anywhere other than Austin, now.

I'm never negative, and it just seemed (as a good friend of mine pointed out) that as soon as I was 'home', I was negative. My parent's house will always be home, but it's not my home.

I can't wait to go to East Lansing, take a picture with Sparty, see my friends, but that's not home either. I feel like a visitor, and I keep thinking, 'what are the perks to being here?' Coney dogs, Faygo, friends, seeing my dad.

I wrote that two months ago.  Back when I was in Michigan, back when I thought life couldn't get better. 

Well, newsflash, it has. 

I still miss my family like crazy, my car was fixed within the week, and then the guy who treated me better than sliced bread now has a title.  It's not gigantic asshole or even dipshit, but it's my Boyrfriend. I've realized that home is not just here in Austin, but wherever I'm with someone who cares about me.  I've realized I don't have to go to Swartz Creek.  I'm not yearning to see the high school, swing at Elms road park, or even go sledding.  No, I'm missing the people.  My family and my friends.  I'm not missing football or baseball games, even though I am a bit depressed I won't see a Tigers game for my birthday this year. I'm happier than I was at this time last year, the year before that, and even the year before that.  

So, Austin, I'm in love with you.
Always have been, and I always will be.


Not very convincing.

I keep trying to convince myself I have everything figured out.  That's pointless, because I know I don't.  I know I still have lessons to learn, mistakes to make, and heartaches to have. 

I know the only attitude to have is a positive one, and I know that everything will make sense one day. 

I know all of this, so why am I trying to convince myself otherwise?  It's a part of growing up.