I'm a Little Bit Country...

Since I met my hubby I've been so lucky to have had great concert experiences. I loved concerts when I was younger, but it was mostly Backstreet Boys' concerts. But I still remember my first concert at Orange County Fairgrounds: LeAnn Rimes. I'd love to say that I had a great time, but I can't say that. The concert was great, but I went with my Dad, his new wife and her family. To say the least, I didn't feel comfortable, but I ended up being amazed by LeAnn on stage at only a few years older than I was. It made me wish that I could be that girl. But alas, I didn't have parents like LeAnn's who pushed for her to be a star. My parents just wanted me to be a kid. And I don't think that I had that star potential when I was a kid. The world was such a different place, there weren't Taylor Swifts popping up every where you turned.

Since I was a kid, concerts have made me so emotional. I get involved in the songs, I get caught up in the stories. I wish I was lucky enough to be up there and then I question why I never tried. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe everyone feels the music deep down in their soul and that's why we all love going to concerts. To feel the bass, to feel the fans, it's just all a great experience. I always wonder how it would feel to be up there and have thousands of people singing your words back to you. I think I'd cry through every song.

We've seen John Mayer, Keith Urban, Carrie Underwood, LeAnn Rimes, Kenny Chesney, Travis Tritt (this one was with my mom since hubby and I just started dating and he couldn't take off of work, or so he says), James Otto (ugh, worst opening act ever!), Brooks and Dunn, Taylor Swift (as an opener), Faith Hill and Tim McGraw, and our latest concert was Alan Jackson with Chris Young and Josh Turner as the opening acts.

I have to say, this was the best concert ever! The opening acts were amazing; they were a show in their own rite. Amazing. Great voices. Big songs. And very classy. The opening acts knew their role. They knew that their careers were nothing compared to that of the legendary Alan Jackson. And he did not disappoint. He was amazing. He performed pieces of all the older songs and gave the story behind them or why/how they were written. I couldn't help but get teary eyed when he sang Drive, Remember When, and Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning). Just amazing. I can't wait to go back. I could see him every year and not be disappointed. Hands down, the best concert we've seen together.

People should appreciate country music so much more than they do. It's about people and the stories of their lives. Mini stories set to music. I love country music. I can't wait for Brooks and Dunn in June— they are amazing and I'm so sad to see them part ways. It'll be a family affair: my hubby, my mom, stepdad, dad, and his fiance. I love concert season!

I'm a College Graduate...

Since I've been dating my hubby, I've been going to college. In a few weeks, on my 26th birthday, I will finally be graduating from college. It's a strange feeling. A part of me wants to go back for another major. Now isn't that the craziest thing? Me? The person who dreaded early morning wake-ups for early morning classes and the long commutes has actually considered going back for another round. I'm pretty sure that I've got that crazy idea out of my head, but it has crossed my mind. I know there are no jobs in the journalism field so I've considered another, but then again, I love to write, so I think I'll stay true to my first instinct. But don't quote me on any of this because you never know what crazy idea I'll come up with in the next few years.

I hate to say this, but I think college was probably the easiest thing to do when it comes to schooling. I mean I dreaded the general education credits and I have hated a teacher or two or the assignments I was given, but to get good grades in college is a lot easier then trying to get them in high school. I'm not trying to sound crazy, so hear me out. In high school you have to take classes everyday, five days a week, but when you're in college you could have one class one day and maybe three on another day... Hello?! Come on now, after getting up at 6:30 a.m every day in high school, college is like easy street. Granted, you might get stuck with the shitty teacher and you might pull a couple more all nighters, but in general, it's an easier schedule, that's for sure. I would always love hearing kids at college complain about their work load. Come on, I work a full-time job and I go to school, and I commute. If you just stop partying every night, maybe your work load might get a little easier. Anyway, end of my rant, I just can't believe it's over. Amen that it is over, but it's going to be very strange. No whining about assignments I don't want to write, no complaining about professors that shouldn't be teaching, and no long commutes. It's a little strange. And I like it.

So what do I do with my time now that I'm a college graduate?

Well, after the 10 a.m. commencement ceremony, which for me starts at 8:30 (UGH!)- I'm pretty sure we'll go out to lunch. It is my birthday. Although soon enough I'm pretty sure that I will just have to stop celebrating these birthday things because I can't really handle that my age keeps going up. I mean seriously, when did I become an adult? Because I'm pretty sure I'm still my mother's princess and that I'm still the baby, so when did I start thinking about having one of my own? How does this all happen?!

So back to what I'll do with my time now that I'm a college graduate.

Well, I'm writing. Little by little I've started my book. I'm pretty happy with that prospect and with what I've written so far, but I just wish I had like five days in a row to just sit and write all day long. Hopefully, I can keep the flow going. I'm so afraid to lose it because I'm out of school. I can so easily fall into a pattern of reading books that I haven't been able to read, catching up on old t.v. shows that I haven't been able to fully enjoy, or now, enjoying my little pup that just brings a lot of happiness and a lot of work! I mean come on, how many times can I possibly take the little one to the vet? Her poor little eyes get infections because she's too small to fight them off. Why does she get them? The vet says if she even gets dust or dirt in her eye, poof, infection. Vet bills and visits, making special trips to pick up her food, and loads of her laundry! Now, try to tell me that I'm not a mother! I've got a lot that I'm going to try to do. I just hope that I can get my book finished. Then, I hope to get it published. Then, I hope that it makes money and then I can just live a life of luxury. Sigh. Oh, wouldn't that just be peachy?

So I'm a college graduate with no prospect of really having a job. Thankfully, I have a job. But not one that has anything to do with my field of study. But isn't that how it happens more often than not? Isn't it sad? I can't tell you how many of us were in graduation practice yesterday talking about how there are no jobs and how many times I heard, "hello unemployment line"— it's just sad. You work your butt off, for what? I know I feel great about my accomplishment. I just hope that I can have it pay off with my book. At least I know that on the sleeve it will say something about me being a college graduate. I guess that makes it all worth it. And I get to see my family smiling when they call my name.

Oh to be a Mom...

Now, I'm not a mom. Officially. But I am a great babysitter to a lot of customers at my job, so a lot of the time I feel like the mom of 20 or 30 drunk eight-year-olds. It's kind of crazy. I see these people more than I see my own family. I care about them, but then there are days that I can't stand the sight of them. Is that bad? So I can understand what it's like to be a mom. Sorta. Granted I'm not changing them, but I do clean up after them, feed them, scold them, and put them in their place a lot of the time. I'm pretty sure that this is God's way of showing me the ropes and helping me realize whether or not I'm prepared for motherhood.

His other way of preparing me? I've been blessed enough to be puppy mom. It's the closest thing I have to stay at home motherhood. She's beautiful. She's smart. She's perfectly imperfect. She takes right after her mom! Then there are the times when I want to just run away from her because she just won't listen! I'll go and soak in the bathtub just to have a moment to myself! (HaHa) Luckily with a pup I can put her in her little crate and leave to go workout or go shopping. I'm pretty sure I'd be arrested if I did that to a child. Luckily, I have my mom who is an amazing grandmother to her grandpuppy. When I have to go to work, she'll stop by to feed her and take her out, or she just comes by for some quality time with our little Luna. She loves her like a real grandchild. It's actually pretty damn cute to see. I can't wait to see her with her real life grandchild. Someday. Maybe. Still debating.

I love my pup and I love having her here to cuddle with and play with. I talk to her even though she has no idea what I'm saying. If I cry, she crawls up to me to kiss my face and cuddle up on my head. She knows when some thing is wrong. She's such a great addition. But I'm sure it doesn't compare to real motherhood.

I might never understand a mother's love, but I do know how much a daughter can love her mother. I witnessed it growing up when watching my grama with my mom, my aunt, and my uncle. I know how much I love mine.

I couldn't love the way I do without the love I experienced growing up as a child. I love my mother more and more each day. I respect her for how far she's come in life and how far she brought us. She is an amazing woman. I can only hope that if I'm blessed enough to be a mother one day, I'm just like her.

I understand a grandmother's love because I grew up with my grama helping us, watching us, and babying us when we needed it. She would do anything for us and proved it time and time again. She was a blessing that we wish was still here to share in the little moments of life. If you can measure love by how much a person is missed when they're gone, then she was loved enough to fill the oceans and the sky.

Mothers are amazing. They are a blessing. Hopefully we're smart enough to realize it when they're here and not when they're gone. I hope that if I have a child they love me as much as I love my mom and as much as she loved hers.

From the times when we make them want to scream, to the times when we make them cry, a mother's love is constant. It's something we all depend on. It's what we thrive on when we're children. What was the point of making pictures in class unless it brought a smile to mom's face and a tear to her eye when she put it up on the fridge? Moms make it all worthwhile.

So to my mom. Happy Mother's Day. You are the best friend a girl could ever have. You are a gift from Heaven and I was blessed to have you handpicked for me from God. I Love You.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

I'm Not Whining, I Swear...

You know those things that you never want your significant other to talk about, unless it's a conversation that you start or you start together? Like finances, sex, kids, etc. Well, the hubby and I never have a problem talking about any of these things. Sometimes we'll bring up these types of conversations, if we're in conversation mode. I feel comfortable talking to him about everything. He knows when I'm uber crampy because he knows when my time of the month is coming before I even know. It usually goes like this:

Me: "Ugh, I'm just not feeling right, I'm all moody, why do I get like this?"

Hubby: "What day is it? Oh, yup, it's about that time."

Me: "Really? It feels like I just had it. Hmmm, Ok. Why can't you have it this month?"

Hubby: "Sorry babe, can't help you there."

He ends up buying me a large box of stuff and I'm always really thankful that I didn't need to head out to the store in my condition. I mean come on, I'm hurting here! How could someone expect me to shop for myself? I think it's his way of saying he's sorry for not being able to take my pain away. I then end up spending the next few days miserable on the couch with a heating pad, complaining about everything in the world and wondering why everyone has to annoy me. I try to convince myself that this time is a perfect excuse for a sick day. But I never follow through. So I suffer and let everyone know I'm suffering. I'm the worst possible woman in the world. Could you imagine me pregnant? Oh Lord, help my husband handle my craziness if that ever happens.

The point is, we talk about everything and anything.

But a few days ago, he kind of threw me off.

After a long day at work, I came home to him eating six English muffin pizzas. Six of my favorite childhood food, other than Mac-n-Cheese. And I, being good, didn't ask for one, even though I suddenly and secretly craved one. Instead I ate some of the cheese that melted onto the pan. He asked me what I was doing. I'm eating the cheese I said. Thinking it was a silly question. He didn't like my eating the cheese. Hey, even if he wanted it, he had a bag of mozzarella cheese on those little, delicious English muffin pizzas, I was eating what was left of it! That was it, enough said. At least I thought so.

The next day he randomly says to me, "You know what I've noticed? I think when you stop exercising, you also start eating badly."

Me: (looking up from my daily Facebook fix) "Umm. Ok?"

Hubby: "I'm just saying, it's what I've noticed. It's like an all or nothing." (I quote even though I don't quite remember the exact words due to the shock I was in, so forgive me.)

Me: "Well, Jen was away on vacation and I was busy with work and besides, you don't know what I do when you're not here."

Hubby: "Yes I do, you always say what pain you are in after a workout."

Me: (evil grin) "Not always. Do we have to talk about this..."

...

Maybe it's just me, but all of a sudden I felt like I was being attacked for my cheese eating the night before. Now let me get this straight. I am a self-confessed cheese fiend. I could easily eat a block of cheese in two days time. But it's random. Sometimes it's peanut butter. It's always a toss-up between the two. Right now, I'm on my cheese kick, so sue me!

Isn't it an unwritten rule that husbands never talk about their wife's eating habits or weight? Unless of course, the wife brings it up.

In my head I was coming up with all these reasons on why he was wrong. Why he shouldn't ever have mentioned it. I mean, seriously, was he calling me fat?! Because in my woman mind, that's what I totally thought. I was not happy. I didn't want to talk about it. I was in defense mode. I was trying to prove him wrong and trying to show him that he was wrong for ever bringing it up. But in the end, after thinking about it. He's right. It is what I do.

I mean I love that we talk about everything, but this is such a touchy subject for me. When it comes to my weight, my eating habits, my laziness or my exercise enthusiasm, I don't want to talk about it, unless I want to talk about it. Otherwise I feel totally judged. I start waking up thinking, "God, please let me not eat the cookie at the birthday party because everyone is going to look at me and think, 'Why is the fat girl eating the cookie? No wonder she's fat!'" Even though I'm not really fat anymore. Just a little fat. It's so hard because in my head I will always be the fat girl. Always. It's something that the hubby just doesn't understand. Well, he does, he has had his vices as well, but you know how it is, you always think your problems are bigger than everyone else's.

So, hubby, I'm trying. I'm trying to kick this all or nothing mentality. It's OK if I have a cookie one day, as long as I don't turn it into a box. It's OK to have something not organic every once in awhile. I'm trying to realize that I don't have to try to be perfect, I just have to try to have a normal relationship with food and with exercising. To be healthy I need to work out everyday. To be healthy I need to eat food that comes from natural plants, not manufacturing plants.

The hubby was right and I was wrong. I have tried to come up with excuses for myself because that is what I've always done. It's hard to change at this stage. But I've been doing pretty good since I met him. My weight has been in a happy place for awhile now, give or take five pounds either way. I've been loving my workouts for the past year. Consistency is the key to everything. Thankfully the workouts have been the stable thing (unless my trainer goes away on vacation! how dare she!). But food is my downfall. I'm picking up this book after reading these key notes in Redbook magazine:

1) Realize that the size of your body isn't just about food.

2) Understand that weight loss isn't everything— but it is something.

3) Go ahead and feel bad.

4) Believe that you deserve happiness.

5) Eat when you are hungry.

These seem so silly. But isn't that how it goes with eating and fighting the battle? It all seems so simple. Exercise and eat healthy. Well, duh. Of course. But can't it be easier? This article says, "If you eat when you're not hungry, you're using food as a drug. And the question is: Why?"

I think I had an ahha moment.

I guess common sense is really the best medicine.

So even though it was hard to hear and even harder to say that he was right, I guess those unspeakable conversations that piss wives off, are really just a needed reality check. Our partners in life know us better than anyone else, so I guess it's not a bad thing when they call you out on the stuff that secretly plagues you. So kuddos to you hubby. You've got my number and the name of my game. But I feel pretty confident in the woman I am and the woman I have yet to be. So every once in awhile I might be a little moody, a little lazy, or want two slices of pizza instead of one, so just realize that I am human and I'm not perfect. The best part is, I'm finally realizing it too...

Childhood Crushes...

In life we all go through stages. There was a time when boys really weren't on my mind- a time when I wanted to just hang out with my friends and my family- then something happened. One night while in seventh grade, I spent the weekend at my father's house and discovered a music channel, Much Music. Even as a kid I was a night owl- it was about 2 a.m. (somehow I feel like I'm remembering the time). Either way, I was about 13 years old when the hormones turned on and I discovered the joy of boys. But not in the real sense. Let's face it, I was a chunky, nerdy, band/chorus geek, real boys were a few years off, even if this was the time I started having real crushes. From a distance. So back to my late night of t.v. watching and my big discovery. Sleeping on the pull-out sofa, flipping through the channels, I saw five young men. Five young men that sang and danced. I discovered the Backstreet Boys. Now, don't laugh. Don't judge. You know you've sang one of their songs in secret at some point in your life. "I want it that way," come on people, picture it, hear it, hum it. You just can't help yourself. You hate me don't you?

So, I was never a New Kids on the Block girl. They never peaked my interest. I was too young and let's face it, they really couldn't sing. Ouch. Sorry, I did say it. But BSB, oh yea, those harmonies pretty much made my musical hormonal heart jump and flutter. About a year after my discovery and my pleading to my mother to buy the imported CD, everyone else in my school started to discover them. All of a sudden everyone knew of the Backstreet Boys. I kind of hated it. They were mine! At least my thirteen-year-old self thought so. We all had our favorites. I was Brian's girl, my friend Trish loved Nick, and my friend Liz was a Kevin fan- sorry Howie and A.J.- you just weren't our childhood types. We would sit with our VHS tapes and rewind the concerts over and over again. The pelvic thrusts, the lifting of the shirts to show off their abs, Oh lord, we were in Heaven on our sleepover nights. This men thing was a great discovery.

I was obsessed. My walls were covered with their photos until the age of 17- yup, even after I discovered real life men, I still had these fantasy men on my walls. My highschool sweetheart would just have to understand. I even tried to send in an audition tape to Fanatic at the age of 14. Yup, Crazy. I ended up in the audience of one of the MTV shows that they were on. I was so close to them. It was great. My hair was all crazy braided. I looked ridiculous, but I thought I looked great. And Dad, keep the video tape to yourself. Burn it. Looking back on that is just a scary thought. I'm just not interested in the hubby seeing that crazy, chunky, obsessive side of me. At least until I get pregnant. Haha, sorry hubby, I had to.

I think at a young age, and feeling very insecure in myself, it was so easy to crush on these imaginary boys. By the age of 18 and two years into my high school relationship, the obsessiveness dwindled. Significantly. All of a sudden, I just liked to listen to the music. Weird. I still bought their albums, I still went to concerts. I think I have nine or ten under my belt (Including Nick Carter's solo stint). But it was just something to do with my girlfriends; it was something that we had in common.

My sweetheart was in the navy and I traveled a lot to see him. I had two stints in Japan. After the relationship went downhill we tried to work things out in Japan— it didn't work out. It was hard on me to be very alone in a strange place. While surfing the internet I found out that Nick, who wasn't my favorite, was touring in Japan. Seriously? Score, perfect timing! Yes, I found myself something to occupy my time. At least for a day or two. So I traveled to Tokyo from the outskirts of the base and went to a concert of his and then a music store appearance. It was fun and I met great people. The Japanese are so sweet. Especially the BSB fans. I stayed at the Four Seasons Hotel where he stayed and had so much fun hanging out with a group of Japanese girls. Then, I met him. I talked to him for a bit at a restaurant in the hotel. It was kind of cool because he was really down to Earth and I actually found myself not star struck anymore. I wish I could remember every word, but alas, I can't. Then he asked me my room number and he told me his room number. Yea, crazy. What the heck was I doing I thought to myself. But it was a crazy adrenaline rush. I loved it. The ex-boyfriend wasn't exactly great on my self-esteem, so having my childhood crush talk to me was kind of crazy. He went out later that night and me and the girls went out too, but I met him again outside of the club. He stopped and put his hands through my hair and said, "love your hair, you're a beautiful girl." I quote because I couldn't forget that! I got a peck and then his friend pulled his drunken mess of a self away and he said he had to go. Which was probably for the best. But I got a great memory out of it. I spent the rest of the night hanging out with his bodyguard and some of the girls in the lobby of the hotel. He was passed out. No room number was ever used, in case you thought that badly of me. Now granted, I'm pretty sure the only reason he noticed me out of the crowd was that I was the only American girl in the crowd- at 5'5 I actually stood out- the brown hair and blue eyes didn't hurt either. Once I went back to my ex's house I called my mom back in NY and told her about my experience. I was on such a high. I felt so pretty. It was a BSB that took notice of me- my childhood dream, even if he wasn't the one I crushed on as a kid, it was still something I would never forget.

Eventually when I got back home to NY I was off of my high and back to reality. No more celeb interaction. No more childhood dream. A few weeks after that Z100 had a chance to meet Nick in NY at their interview with him. I won tickets. Don't ask me how. Ok, here's how— they had people call in with their best pick up lines. Now, I'm innocent, I swear. Really, I am. But I heard this great line on a tv show so I went with it— "Hi, my name is Dana, remember it because you'll be screaming it later." Yup, I said it. I won tickets dammit! It is a good one right? Come on, I know if you're single you're going to use it. I know it. So I "met" Nick again and he remembered me. "You were in Japan right? Why the hell were you in Japan anyway?" So I told him about the navy ex and all that good stuff. He smiled. Said it was crazy. Took another pic and the rest is history. No big deal. It was fun. I was such a dork. And I loved it.

A few years ago my girlfriend and I went to another concert. It was great. But it wasn't the same. I remembered the times when I was such a little kid and that made it fun. I look at the boy bands now, the Jonas Brothers per say, and I never understand it. Maybe it's the age. Maybe it's the whole life process, but at this age, I can't understand it. I've found myself in the past couple of weeks looking for concerts for my girlfriend's bachelorette party, but they're only in the area when the hubby and I are away on vacation. I'm such a country girl when it comes to music, so the BSB are definitely a fluke in my music library, but it makes me feel like a kid again. How many people can say a star told them they were beautiful (drunken or not haha). Every once in awhile, I pop in a BSB song on my playlist just to remember the ease of childhood life when all that mattered were sleepovers, cheesy music, and staying up late with friends to watch those five guys.

Bet you didn't know this side of me— don't look down on me— you know you've hummed a BSB tune at one point or another. Just admit it, you'll feel better.

Good Things...

You know that old adage, "nothing in life is for free" ?- Well, it may be true, but every once in awhile you get a really good deal. Sometimes, good things in life really do come for free, even if there are some stipulations.

A couple of weeks ago I was really randomly checking out craigslist just to see what was new with the site. Now, when I was in NYC, I checked out craigslist frequently. For jobs, for stuff. Sometimes, just to pass the time because it was the "in" thing to do at the time. After moving back upstate I really haven't looked at the site for years. But for some reason I just decided to check it out. Lucky me, the first time I ever really used the site, actually paid off for me. I went under the category of "free" just to see what came up and there it was, a 1907 Gordon & Son piano. I really couldn't believe it. In the picture the piano looked like it was in pretty good shape and the family was giving it away for free, just so they could "reclaim the space." I couldn't believe it. It had to be too good to be true right? Well, I emailed the poster and to my surprise I was quickly given a response back, that yes the piano was still available and it was, indeed, free. The only stipulation was that the piano had to be moved by professional movers because the owners didn't want their hardwood floors ruined. So, I called movers and found that it could be done for $250. After checking out the piano with my hubby and seeing that the piano was in really good shape, we decided to go for it.

Now, you may be thinking, "you play piano?" — well, not exactly. I know the keys and I know how to get around on some notes, but I do not play per say. However, I'd love to learn a bit more and the hubby and I have both decided that music is very important to our future child. Yup, child. Now you may be thinking, "whoa, you're pregnant?" Nope, we're not pregnant, but one day we would like to be. Possibly. Either way, it's always been a dream of mine to own a piano. And even if we have to restore it eventually, it will be way worth the price tag of zero dollars. Well, $250 if you really want to count the movers. But it's been well worth the journey. Now I find myself looking at craigslist a little more often, just incase there are more free deals out there. I still can't believe that I have this great piano in our basement. I love to go down and play around. It would be great to hear a little one on there one day. Maybe they could actually play play, not play like I play— like a rooster pecking for food...

Wow, It's Been too Long...

So I've been a little preoccupied lately. I've been one of those bad bloggers— you know the ones who get people interested in reading about what they've got to say, only to go and get some sort of a life, so they barely blog anymore. Yup, that's me. Now when I say "some sort of a life" I really mean, we have a new member of our family, our puppy. Now when I say I've got readers, I really mean, my mom and my best friend. But, either way, I've been a bad blogger.

Have you ever had something or someone enter your life and then you think to yourself, "how did I ever live without this/them?" - Well, that's me with our puppy. I don't know how I went through the day without her. She's loving and playful and just a cuddlebug. I love it. When my hubby is away at work, I sit and cuddle with her or play with her, or even talk to her while I do my stuff around the house. Animal experts talk about animals having separation anxiety and they try to teach us humans on how to help the animals deal with it. Now, one thing they never mention is the separation anxiety that dog moms and dads experience. Because let me be clear on this, I am her human mother.

I never thought I would be one of those people that took a dog on car rides or took the dog to the store, but yup, I am. On her first night in our house I had to take her to a bar... in a purse. I came home from work to her out of her crate. As her mom I was scared for her safety, so I had to bring her with me when I picked up my hubby from his first night out in a long time. So there she sat, quietly in my bag to pick up her human daddy. I've taken her to Lowes and Home Goods. I've spent countless dollars on her vet visits and on her toys and food. Hubby has done the same. Seeing her little tail wag when we come home is worth every penny. It's worth every accident she's had in the house and on the furniture. I never would have thought that 1.9 pounds of fur could equal a million dollars worth of happiness. But that's exactly what she does.

So, if I've strayed from the blogging world, please forgive me. I am a new mother and I've had a countless number of sleepless nights due to my new puppy. I've had to bathe her poopy fur and clean her little eyes. Yet, all the time I've spent mad at her could never add up to a second of happiness that she gives me...

During my little sabbatical from blogging, even with working at actual paying jobs, I also enjoyed being a little nostalgic about my youth. Reading through old journals about who I was in "like" with and who I was "bosom buddies" with really made me think of how much high school and middle school really never mattered in the scheme of things (It also made me realize how pretentious I was as a little kid). I remember my mom saying to me when I was a kid, "remember these times, these are going to be the best years of your life." Thank God she was wrong! Reading back on journals and looking back on the chunkier years of my youth, I was a happy girl, but even at a young age, I focused on my weight and always felt out of place because of it. But I had a great friend. I had fun vacations with her and her family and at the time I thought we would be friends forever. Now I have no idea where she lives or how her life is turning out. I loved spending summers with her and I always felt accepted by her, but it's sad to me that those friendships from our youth never really last. I want to make sure that when I do have a child, I make sure that I let her/him know that the friendships of their youth will not make or break their future friendships or loves. Granted, I will fondly remember the times I spent with said friend and that friendship probably helped in developing me as a person, but in the end, we ended up not being "bosom buddies"- we ended up with separate lives and separate goals. As a kid I pictured growing old on rocking chairs with this person. I wrote in my Anne of Green Gables Journal about our adventures all the time. I couldn't believe that someone could want to spend day after day with me... I guess when you're a kid, you think these moments are the biggest in the world. In my little kid world, these days were the best... Being nostalgic and all, I found the Anne movies online and ordered them. I remember watching them for hours after getting out of the river bundled up under blankets. I just got the movies in the mail. I can't wait to spend ten and a half hours watching these movies and remembering these times...

The point is, as a kid, you think that every little thing that happens to you matters and is life changing, but looking back as an adult, you realize that none of it really mattered and that the only thing that matters is your family and how you view yourself. It doesn't matter if you're the pretty girl or the goth girl. It doesn't matter if you're a cheerleader or a band geek, what matters is that you take the time to figure out who you are and then the friendships you make will be the lasting ones. When you're still figuring yourself out and finding yourself, those friendships won't matter in the end. My best friends are the people that I never expected. One has been a constant friend since elementary school, but we always had other friends who we might have spent more time with. But we always knew that we could depend on each other. The other is one that I met in middle school, but even in high school, I never thought that we'd be best buds. She didn't think it either. Isn't it crazy how changes in life can change friendships and change your path? She taught me the art of sarcasm. Something my hubby is really thankful for. Really. No, not really. I love these girls. But no one compares to my mother...

My hubby (who is my newest best friend) can't understand why I never went through a rebellious stage against my mom. He says that every girl rebels against their mom at some point or another. I guess I'm strange then. I've always loved my mom and I was always thankful for her sacrifices and love. She's always understood me and gave me the freedom to figure out who I was and where I wanted to go. I never felt anything but love for her my whole life. I guess I'm a strange one hubby, but then again, you married me, so what does that make you? Huh? Just checking...

So I'm back to the blogging world. After working too hard, taking lots of time on the couch to do absolutely nothing, writing for things other than the blog, working out like a fiend, and being a wife and puppy mother, I'm happy to be back writing. I hope I don't disappoint again. But there are just somethings more important than blogging that are just too hard to resist...