This is me. I'm a size 12. And, I'm ok with that fact. I am actually more than ok with it, I can look in the mirror and like what I see.

My heart breaks for girls who look in the mirror and obsess over every last curve, over every pound. It really does. I used to be one of them. I used to abhor what I saw every day, the stomach I saw as too fat, the arms I labeled "mama's arms" (they never were or are) and the thighs that no matter how hard I exercised, were always touching. I hated myself. I thought I was ugly. And it's true that at times I do still fall into this mindset. I don't think there's a girl who doesn't.

I see these young girls striving so hard to attain what the world says is beautiful. Exercise more. Eat less. Count calories. Go tanning, because tan fat looks better than white fat. It makes me sick. We work so hard on the things that don't even matter, and yet there is no emphasis on building one's character, on learning to be a beautiful person inside. I'm not saying don't care about taking care of yourself, or looking good. Goodness knows I love buying clothes and make up and hair accessories. I love it when I've lost a few pounds and people notice.

I wish people could appreciate themselves. I wish I could.

I ended up having to call out of work last night... we'll just say that you don't want to know why and leave it at that.

My grandma is doing a little better now. She's had two thoracentesis's (not sure what the plural form of that word is- basically a thoracentesis is when fluid is aspirated through a needle from the pleural space around the lung- which compresses the lung and causes it to be difficult to breathe adequately). Hopefully she will begin to recover after this. I just know she's in God's hands.

This week, I feel I've been going back again and again to the music of my childhood. Perhaps it may be cheesy, and if you think so that's ok. So what is the music of my childhood? Stuff like this, this, this, and this. I tell you, hearing this stuff is like being an 8 year old girl again, dancing around the family room with my dad and sisters. We sometimes hated the music my dad would blast in the house, but I tell you as I've grown up I've learned to love it for the memories, and not only that but also the truths within them. I don't know, when I've found myself sad, I do find comfort in stuff like this. Maybe it's stupid, but I don't care. Just the '90s cheesiness in those videos is awesome to me. I loved the '90s! It was the life back then, I tell you. For me anyway.

Right now, missing times like this:

This beefcake has been my most recent obsession, with the movie The Eagle. I may have seen it twice with Lauren this past weekend. Last night out of boredom I bought Dear John, which I love anyway, and watched it. And, he's on this month's cover of GQ.

As for my grandma, still no more news, except that as soon as she's well enough she will be moved to a nursing home. It's sad that there will be no more visits to their wonderful little house. But I can't dwell on this anymore right now.

I hung out last night with Amanda, my equally sentimental friend, who listened to me and let me just talk about things. It was a wonderful and much-needed time. We have been re-connecting lately after a couple years of not being quite as close. She is, after all, my fourth sister.

It's back to work tonight after six wonderful nights off. I guess I'm sort of ready, but I'm completely out of work mode and therefore have no desire to be back in that place. I just need to get through the next week, then go on my trip up to the Midwest to see family. People keep asking me where I'm going on my vacation- Illinois! They always ask, "Why are you going there?!" If only you knew, people, you would understand.

Please let it be a good night at work.

My heart has an aching today for things that once were.

Being six years old, standing only as high as my grandma's waist, helping her bake in the kitchen.

Just nine years old, taking walks with Grandma and Grandpa up and down the street, talking, laughing, just being. Being so oblivious to the pains and heartaches of life.

Eleven years old, eating fresh, sweet peaches in Grandma's kitchen. Grandma peeled the entire peach for me because I couldn't stand the fuzzy peach peels.

Fifteen, being embarrassed because my grandparents wanted me to play the piano in front of our entire extended family. But I knew they were so proud of me.

Seventeen, Grandma and Grandpa here for my graduation. The last time they visited us in Florida. You know, the 1000 miles never seemed to bother them when it came to seeing us.

Twenty, listening to how proud my grandparents were when I got into nursing school.

Twenty-one, talking on the phone with my grandma and hearing her voice break as she talks to me about her dying sister, my dear Aunt Georgia. I still remember her telling me, "We just want to sit and cry over these things, but we just can't spend all our time crying!" I will tell you one thing, that advice has come in handy in recent months.

Twenty-three: I told Grandma I couldn't accept that Grandpa was dying, and she told me we had to, and that life couldn't go on forever. That is advice I still can't handle.

I feel like part of my little girl heart is dying, or at least transforming. So much of me has remained a naive child even into my adult life, for I have never had to experience any heartaches or real sorrows or loss in my life. I can't accept these changes, inevitable though they may be, that have come and are yet to come. My heart yearns for the past that is no more.

I have always struggled with accepting change in life. Lately even the little things have gotten to me- my home church changing the sign out front last month, this month the format of the bulletins. No, no I want the sign in front of the church to be the old brick on I used to climb on when I was little. The flashy new sign just won't cut it. You have taken away another useless constant in my life.

"He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" -Revelation 21:5
This is the truth. He IS making everything new, and right now it just feels like a painful process. I once heard someone say that with each person you love who goes to heaven, your heart begins to slowly but surely part with the world. It is painful. This world is not all that there is. This pain will one day be a memory, or maybe we won't even remember it. These tears will one day be wiped away by the hands of my Savior.

Just as life seems it's getting back to a new rhythm, some of the sadness behind me, and I think the worst of my grief may be over, another surge of sad news comes along. I'm not supposed to talk about it much, because my grandma is very private, but I simply can't keep it all in. Without going into any detail, my grandma, who just lost her husband of 64 years not three months ago, is not doing very well.

I'd had visions of years of Christmases and family gatherings to come, Grandma at the center of it all, happy and whole surrounded by her family who loves and supports her. I can't accept that this may not be.

Can your heart actually break, because I feel as though mine will. My pain and grief are selfish, really. I want her here. I need her still, she has always been there. I know she is ready, she is alone, and she wants to be with Grandpa.

I know it's the cycle of life. I know, but I can't come to terms with it. My grandpa was already someone who was such a rock in my family's and my life, and he's gone. I don't know what time table we are talking about with my grandma, but I just feel the grief of it all already.

I've never had to deal with real loss in my life before December, and I have no idea how to. How do you carry on, really? I feel as though I numb the reality of life by keeping myself busy and occupied as much as possible. Two nights before my trip to Washington, DC, just three weeks before my grandpa went into the hospital and a month and a few days before he died, my grandparents called me. I didn't call them, they called me and I still feel guilty over that fact alone. We talked about my new town house (I think my grandpa may have throw in a few lines about self defense in there somewhere, something he was notorious for when it came to our safety), my job, my upcoming trip, and they were so excited for me. I got teary-eyed listening to my grandpa's weak, shaky voice stumbling over words. I did pause that night, thinking about them. Then the conversation ended, and I was off on my big trip to the Capital. It was soon after we got back that he was put in the hospital, and it just seemed day after day, the reports got worse and worse.

I don't know why I bring that up, I guess I just feel as though I've carelessly spent my time so selfishly, not knowing how precious each conversation and moment with someone is. I feel like a selfish brat, even this week I've spent my time off shopping, painting my nails, doing my hair, going to movies, just frivolous things. I don't know why I berate myself over it. It isn't as if depriving myself of the small pleasures would change anything.

I'm thankful I already have a trip to Illinois planned for March 1. I had no idea when I planned it that this would happen. I'm so thankful I will have precious moments to spend with my wonderful grandma. My grandma. I will have to tell you all about her sometime, she's an amazing lady. I hope I can be just like her, but so far I'm failing miserably.

Though I work night shift now, I do try to keep a day schedule when I get several days off of work. Right now I'm on the first of 6 off- hallelujah! The first several weeks I have tried sleeping at night occasionally using Advil PM- which has benadryl in it. Fine until the morning came, and I was somewhat groggy. Not only that, there were nights it seemed to have the opposite effect and keep me wide awake. So last night I tried Alteril. I've seen the commercials, and was pretty skeptical but I'm open to try what works without being something I'll be dependent on. I fell asleep very quickly, and slept through most of the night.

And I feel fine this morning, which is even better! What is odd is that I had strange and vivid dreams. I dreamed about people and places I haven't thought about in a long time. Random, or caused by taking Alteril, who knows. I think I did sleep deeper than usual, which is probably why. Though I sleep a solid 6 or 7 hours during the day between work, it's never the same as a good night's sleep.

I'm looking into the 2012 Olympics. Tickets are available for the games in mid March. It's hard to get them, and you have to be approved and not everyone can even buy them because there are only a limited amount available. I don't know, it seems fun, and they are in London, so why not? I just need someone to go with... can't go to London by myself! It's a year and a half away, so who knows? Annd... it is highly, highly likely I won't go but it's kind of fun to think about it. Either way, there's nothing like watching it on TV, hosted by Bob Costas and hearing the NBC Olympic theme music. Ahh, I'm getting myself pumped up already!

And so, it's lazy Friday (wake up in the afternoon!) here at the town house. Don't think I'll be accomplishing much of anything, and I'm ok with that. After the week of work I had, hey, it's ok to laze around a bit not doing much of anything.

This is me right now.
See the sun peeking through the blinds?
I'm too tired even to enjoy that.
Ah... maybe in a few hours.

I love my dad.

He's a quiet man, a man of few words. He isn't always the best at showing emotion. But one thing I know about him, is that he is good. And I've never doubted his love for me.

The thing about my dad that people don't know, is he is brilliant. The man has a Master's in organic chemistry. He is a hard worker, and has always provided for us. He is also hilarious. No, he's not going to be the center of attention at a party (can you tell I get my personality from him?) but there is so much more to him than that. He's pretty cool.

When I was little, I used to tell him, "You're pretty, Daddy." I remember saying it, and not realizing that men aren't pretty, but handsome. Of course, I suppose in my little girl mind that was the highest compliment I probably could have paid him.

He called (and still calls) me Buggy. Which, in turn, led to a slew of variations on that nick name by my sister Melissa, who now calls me "Sto." How you get from Bug to Sto, is a loooong story. Just go with it, ok?

He also used to say good night to me by saying, "I love you, Butter Bean." And then I would respond, "I love you, Butter Dad." Then, "I love you, Butter Buggy," and "I love you, Butter Daddy." This was something that continued probably even into high school, until, I'm sad to say, I decided I was much too old for. I think that when I told him that, he was sad.

I haven't always been the best daughter to my dad. There are a lot of things about my attitude through the years that I wish I could take back. He still loves me, and even if he isn't the most overt at showing it, I don't doubt it.

That's what I love about my parents. Even when I'm most unloving, they love me. Unconditionally. I feel so blessed.

I'm now three days into my facebook cleanse. It actually hasn't been too bad. The first day was really hard, because I can't tell you how many times I would get bored and reach for my phone to check my facebook. Now, that doesn't happen as much. I may only do this a couple weeks, but I want to hold out for as long as I can. And when I come back to facebook, I'm going to try to limit my use of it much more than before.

I have one more night of work tonight before my work week is done and I get six nights off. My first night I got floated to our Department of Corrections floor, which I was not happy with. I was almost in tears on my way over there. It wasn't my first time there, and the other time was terrible. It actually did not end up being too bad. Honestly my night last night on my own floor was much worse. I hardly sat down except to chart all night last night, which is rare for a night shift. There is usually at least a little down time for a couple hours between 1 am and 4 am.

This week, I've been on an Adventures in Odyssey kick. Yes, I'm 23 and I still love to listen to them. I grew up on those radio shows, and hearing them takes me back about 15 years or more. I learned a lot about Biblical principles from those shows, and even when I hear them now I love the simple truths they teach. Of course, life isn't quite as simple as life in Odyssey, but there is something really comforting and nostalgic about their simpler problems with easier solutions. Although the earlier episodes actually dealt with a lot deeper issues than those in later years. It always bothered me that they started dealing with more shallow issues (early on they deal with teen pregnancy, divorce, drugs, satanic practices, and later on they stopped hitting on those issues at all).

After tonight, six nights off. I hope it doesn't go too quickly, and that I don't sleep 80% of the time! Ha!

My little sister is 19. She has friends, though not close, who are married and starting to have kids. And I have read these kids' facebook statuses recently, and been pretty appalled at what I read. (concluding first of all that maturity and marriage/parenthood do not come simultaneously, and second of all that there are no boundaries anymore to what you can write on facebook) It seems for the most part, my age on up at least has some self awareness about what they post on facebook (although there are definitely exceptions to that).

However, I've recently been really, I mean really annoyed by what facebook has become. It used to be a place for connecting with friends, for posting a status that was that- just a status (Natalie is... eating ice cream, or at class, etc... before the status format changed), and for posting a few photos here and there and writing on someones' wall.

Now it is a place for social vomit. I'm not so high and mighty to say I have never been apart of it, or that I'm not now, but I mean really! Through facebook I find out just how bitter someone is about their life. I find out how stupid their husband is. I find out how annoying their kid is. Or I find out how amazing their kid is. I see their newest car, or their new house, or... fill in the blank. I see people post vulgarities, less-than-mild cuss words, dissing of bosses and employers, drama, photos from last Saturday's drinking binge, etc.

We post these things without a thought for the consequences. Last week I was listening to MJ and he was talking about the teachers who got fired for posting pictures of themselves with a drink in their hand (a little ridiculous, yes) but it goes to show you just how big of a deal these things can become.

I think it's sad that a lot of these kids don't even know a world without all this social media in their faces 24/7. I remember a day when I was in junior high, and if you had an e-mail account of your own you were pretty cool. But if you had AOL Instant Messenger, you had really arrived.

There were no cell phones (ok, there were, but not everyone had one), there was no facebook, or twitter, or myspace, none of that. Even throughout all of high school and half of college I went without any of the social media. And my cell phone had a limited texting plan. Even after getting facebook and myspace in college, I still was very limited in how I allowed myself to use it. I still took the time to call my friends just to talk (imagine that!) and meet up for coffee. Those things didn't seem like any sort of inconvenience like they do now.

I miss the simplicity of life before facebook. I feel silly saying something like that, and yet it's true. I don't like what facebook has done to me as a social human being. It has made me lazy, nosy, borderline stalker-ish (admit it, you too!), and so over-connected that I'm actually more disconnected than I ever was in the past. It is disgusting, that's what it is. It makes me sad that there are kids today who don't even remember life before social networking. Never thought the '90s, or even the early 2000's, would look so good, did you?

I'm thinking of going on a facebook fast. I don't know when, or for how long, or how extensive, but I think I need a facebook cleanse. I need to get that crap out of my system. Learn how to engage with people again. Learn to sit quietly and read a book. Meet a friend for coffee. Pray, read my Bible more. Call a friend on the phone simply to talk. Take up a hobby. After all, that's how I used to occupy my time.

On another note: Mick Jagger, dancing around stage in his geriatric-esque tennis shoes and skinny little pants, is just plain weird. I don't care how big of a rock star the guy was in the 60s, or whenever it was.

On to another week of work: here's to a good work week for everyone!

And Happy Valentines Day!

Edit:
I just now took the plunge and de-activated my account temporarily. I don't know how long it will be, but I feel relieved I did it. I deleted the app off of my phone, and am ready to see how it goes. Hopefully I will make it longer than a day- ha!

I hate that this is a subject I happen to be pondering this week, as it is honestly not triggered by Valentine's Day at all.

First of all, I don't hate Valentine's Day. I actually love it, even if I've never been able to get a date for it. Even if the only valentines I get are from my parents or my little brother. I think people who are bitter about this holiday are seriously petty. No offense if you are one of them.

I was talking with my good friend Amanda today. She and I go way back-- way back. Now she's married, and we hang out with baby in tow, and it's so much fun! We were having fun remembering good times, some of them being her single days when we were much more carefree, and I was much younger (she is 5 years older than me). I guess we didn't know it, but life was pretty carefree then. And on another note, my life is still pretty danged carefree, considering I don't have a husband and baby to worry about. Amanda didn't get married until she was almost 27, so she was remembering how hard it was sometimes.

I'm 24 this June. Ok, so not exactly old, but I was talking with my little sister last week about how even though I'm still young, it is still hard to let go of the fact that it hasn't happened. I thought I would get married when I was 22. Straight out of college. I always thought that, I remember being 8 years old and thinking that. I'm not of the belief that because it didn't happen it will never happen, but there are days I have a hard time with it.

It is hard to be at this point, and realize that those things didn't happen the way I had always dreamed- and don't look like they will any time soon. It's difficult to think that life has seemingly been happening to "everyone but me," and yes, it is difficult to be alone. I'm not bitter about it, please don't think that. I don't spend every waking moment dwelling on this. It's almost a non-issue in my life, but there are days it is hard. Sure, sometimes I turn on a sappy movie and eat straight out of the ice cream carton and feel sorry for myself. But I wake up the next morning and get on with my life.

Ah!! I hate that this is what I'm writing about three days before Valentines Day. But here I am doing it. I hate when single people play the bitter card and declare Valentine's Day to be canceled or whatever else their bitterness brings them to do.

Well, I'm off to meet with one of my nursing school buddies who I haven't seen since graduation. I get to meet her little baby girl for the first time too. I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Rainy, gray morning, 40 degrees, dark skies...

This makes very good sleeping weather after 3 nights of work. World, don't bother me for at least 6 hours.

This week of work has been good to me. I am so glad for that, after the last several before that. Not that they were the worst, but they were definitely tiring and with only 2 nights off between both sets of 3-in-a-row's, I'm glad that I got these past 3 nights of a little less chaotic craziness.

I got a patient last night, and the nurse calling report had given me all the information I needed. She paused, and said, "Let me warn you... he's a little weird." So I started going through all the usual weird-patient factors in my mind- gross old man, a little hands-y, schizophrenic (not that I'm calling them weird... but they can say/do some bizarre things), exhibitionist.... etc, etc. Then, "He asked me if I'm a born-again Christian. He keeps his Bible next to his bed and was watching Billy Graham." I didn't even know what to say to that, so I just said a lame "Oh."

I was even waiting for him to be a Bible-thumper type, but he wasn't even that. He was as normal as a person can be, very sweet, genuine. I just thought it was odd, that as a nurse who has probably seen some of the craziest things (and believe me, we see some pretty crazy stuff), she chose to tell me how weird he was for being a Christian and actually talking about it.

My mind is no longer functioning. Must sleep......

My Room

I admit that after more than three months of living in my town house, I am only now starting on the task of organizing/decorating/cleaning. Sad, I know.

It wasn't without a little help from anthropologie, probably the greatest store of all time. Ok, so the only anthropologie purchases in my room are the books and initials, but hey, it still counts! I've finally started organizing some of my photos and put them up, so now it is feeling a little more like a bedroom.

I've gotten a little lazy about using a real camera anymore and now resort to using my phone. It is much faster and easier, and the quality is good enough. So anyway, here is a little of my room, as the rest of it is still unfit for the public eye.

Ignore the mess (yes, it is still messy)...
And yes, that is LOTR:FOTR extended edition on the floor.
I may have spent all day yesterday watching it.