and so it begins

I never imagined I would be here. Well, I mean, I did, but also I didn't. This is my final semester of college and in the grand month of December I will wear a black cap and gown with a gold tassel and receive my bachelor's of science degree in art education.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves, you know. There is still a lot of work to do before then.

I have been working in one of the high schools in a town around twenty minutes away from my house. My mentor teacher is pretty much amazing and the more time I spend with her in the school preparing for the upcoming semester the more excited I get. Which is kind of a big deal since I was almost too nervous about it to function at the end of last semester.

The most amazing part is that there is a part time art position opening up at the high school next year because one of the teachers is retiring. And do you know who could be in line for that job? That's right. You guessed it! This girl! What?

I know.

The faster time goes by the quicker I'm slipping into adult world. It's already incredibly different to be on this side of the school system, but don't you know? I'm so used to being a student and being required to follow the student rules that the fact that I am no longer bound by them is still something I'm getting used to.

You mean I can actually answer a text in class and no one will threaten to take away my phone? What is this madness! Not that that gives me permission to abuse the privilege and ignore my students in favor of my phone conversations, but I don't have to convince my parents to go pick up my phone from the vice principal lest I get in trouble.

But that's really not the biggest thing, I mean, even though I'm excited about that. Mostly because I feel naughty replying to a text message or answering a call inside a classroom. I'm sure that will get less weird with time, but I'm still not quite there yet. But the biggest thing is that here I sit at almost 22 years old and I'm going to be teaching children.

Think about that for a second, if you will.

I am frequently asked what grade I'm going into this year. People mistake me for a freshmen in college and it's no exaggeration when I tell you their jaws drop once they find out I'm not only not a freshmen but I'm also about to graduate. I just feel like the fact that I look like I'm still in high school is going to be something I'll have to overcome during the course of my student teaching.

My wardrobe should help fix that. And my attitude. So we'll see how it goes. I'm excited about the actual teaching portion, but I'm not excited about all of the hoops I have to jump through to get certified. But on the plus side, job offer!!

The only downside to accepting this job offer, if it is indeed offered to me in the near future is that I'll have to move closer to that school which is farther away from The Boy and where I wanted to be. But at the same time, you know, real big person job! With salaries! And things!

the theme park

August has been the busiest month of my life, I think. I've been pulling lots of long hours at the local theme park where I spend my time dressed in a somewhat Victorian era costume making not even remotely somewhat Victorian caffeinated beverages for people of varying coffee knowledges and expectations.

You know, I was accused of "probably just learning" to make coffee drinks based solely on the fact that I did not put one man's idea of enough ice in his mocha. I tried to play off like it was no big deal, but inside I was outraged. How dare you tell me how to do my job when you have zero experience in the coffee world? Past and present baristas being picky, I understand. But everyday people? I know you have your favorite coffee house, but you are not there so don't be offended when it's done a little differently, mkay? Mkay.

And now that we cleared that up, lets move on to bigger and better things. Like The Boy's first Silverwood experience.

Check out that girl in the background. Photobombing at it's finest, I assure you. 

We got to the park right as it opened, so we milled around main street drinking coffee and eating rock candy. It was my first experience with rock candy. I chose watermelon. It was tasty, but I could only take so much of it before I was just over the whole thing. Not a big candy eater right here folks, don't look so shocked.

Once the park rides opened we spent basically all our time riding roller coasters and making fun of each other. Then we found this store with a million hats out front and we had to try them all on.

Our best Neal Caffery impressions.

I can't get enough of this kid. He rocks my world. 

Before we left the park for the day I wanted to ride the train. It was the first attraction the park ever owned and it's one of my favorites. Silverwood actually out-bid Walt Disney for old engine number 7 and really? I just think that's cool. Plus there are train robbers and a cute little skit, which I just love. 

But The Boy was running on an hour of sleep and the effects of his iced mocha had completely worn off, so he was sleepy for the train ride and actually napped in the car on the way back home. 

I couldn't not take a picture of this. I was trying not to laugh.

All in all I think it was a successful day. It was definitely the highlight of my week. I mean really, I had The Boy, I had roller coasters, I had a cheesy good time. Me and That Boy, you know, we get pretty cheesy. I forget why but I called him cheesy and he called me cheesecake. And well, but at least I'm sweet.

stick skinny

Beauty is a funny thing. What is considered to be beautiful differs from person to person, and sometimes people who are truly beautiful have no idea while others flaunt their beauty in vanity. Admittedly, I struggle with the idea of beauty myself. Am I beautiful? Really?

Society has evolved in such a way that if a girl is anything bigger than a size two she feels compelled to figure out how to slim down those love handles and that pooch on her stomach. Pinterest is full of pictures of skinny women with defined abdominal muscles and string bikinis.

We're learning that it's not alright to be anorexic and that it's much more attractive to be healthy than skinny, but the stigma is still out there that the thinner you are the prettier you become.

I was 155 pounds at one point in my life. That's the heaviest I've ever been, and being five feet and four inches tall, 155 pounds is not a good place to be. Uncomfortable in my body, I didn't even want to look in a mirror. And I never wanted to be in pictures. Looking back at the pictures taken of me during that time in my life and all I see is a fat face and a fleshy stomach. I was disgusted with myself.

Not to mention that I was in an unhealthy relationship with PC which left me with a million questions as to why I no longer was good enough for him? There were, what I felt like, a million girls that he was way more interested in than he was in me. Those girls were a lot skinnier than me, and in my mind they were a lot prettier too.

And then when PC and I called it quits, I was in such a state of emotional turmoil that I basically just stopped eating. I lost ten pounds in two weeks and five more pounds after that. People continually complimented me. It made me feel awesome, like maybe I was pretty after all. But I keep wondering why this is? Why couldn't I love myself for who I was when I weighed 155 pounds?

The answer is because I was unhappy with what I saw in the mirror. I constantly compared myself to every other girl out there who was graced with good genes and a flat stomach. And here I am now, hovering right around 140 pounds, still feeling like I am not good enough.

The Boy is super fit. He is in shape like no body's business. Girls love that. Ab muscles, arm muscles, back muscles. We swoon. We swoon and drool and don't want to look away. And I think, he could have any girl he wanted, so why does he like me?

I wrestle with this almost daily. I am skinny, and mostly fit. But I'm not toned and my stomach is anything but flat. I have broad shoulders and narrow hips. I don't necessarily want a six pack, but I'd like to feel good in a swimsuit standing next to another girl. And at this point I just don't. The Boy has never said a negative thing about my body since I've known him, so all the uncertainty is stemming from my end.

So then this is all just a mentality thing for me. And but really, beauty isn't just on the outside either and am I beautiful on the inside too? I feel like I am not always beautiful on the inside. Especially when I start comparing myself to my disgustingly perfect cousins. Everybody sings their praises and they can do no wrong. One of them works like six jobs and just graduated with a bachelor's degree in accounting or something like that. And she's constantly traveling for missions to Thailand and other countries. And she's flat out gorgeous.

And then there's me.

I am sassy and rebellious. I have tattoos and I went to a state university instead of a good Christian school. I barely have one job, let alone multiple positions. I've never been to Thailand and I couldn't be a model even if I wanted to. Sometimes I feel like such a let down and a screw up.

Occasionally, I start to mope about all the things I'm not. I just want someone to hold me and tell me I'm pretty and that they love me, as vain as that sounds. But is that so wrong? In my mind, I try to convince myself that I don't need those words. That I'm strong enough to hold myself up. I should never complain because someone always has it worse than me. I put a lot of pressure on myself, and when I start to break down and complain about something, I get it shoved right back in my face. You picked this, they say, so no complaining! And what's a girl to do?

I've heard it said that the sexiest thing a girl can be is confident. I am beautiful and I am healthy and I have a family who loves me no matter what. The negative frame of mind that I sometimes get myself into is just the enemy trying to mess with my head and it's time for that to stop. It's time for me to be okay with being myself and quit comparing who I am with who everyone else is. 

There's nothing wrong with wanting to exercise more, or trying to make your body how you want it to be. But you can't do that if you're constantly finding things wrong with yourself and beating yourself up. That's the kind of mental bullying I did to myself at 155 that I'm going to work hard to stop doing to myself at 140. I don't need to be a stick in order to be happy, and the sooner I figure that out the better off I'll be. God made me special and He loves me very much. 

a new adventure

Guys! It's August! And you know what that means right?

No, no. It doesn't mean moving into a dorm room in Moscow for my fifth year of school. I'm done with that dorm crap I tell you! And I have been for a while, although admittedly I did like living in the dorms for all the friends I made there...but anyway! No! I am living at home.

And going back to high school.

Say whaaat?

You heard me. High School. That confine with the cheerleading and the footballing, and the goths and the nerds and the latest gossip about who's dating who and the like, I mean, you remember it don't you? But AREN'T YOU SO TOTALLY EXCITED? Don't lie. I mean honestly I still get confused for a high school student and I'm almost 22 years old! But hey, I keep hearing that will serve me well in life, so I don't hate it. Okay, maybe a little and only because people sometimes don't take me serious.

Well, I'm not very serious. But only sometimes.

The bright side to this time around though, is that I'm on the other side of the high schoolers. I will be their art teacher! And they will LOVE it. I mean, they have to right? Who could resist this face?

I was in Moscow on Saturday to see The Boy and to attend the most prestigious pajama party on the block. I was so excited to see him that I could't fall asleep for hours and then once I did drift off to dreamland it was only for a few hours and then my body woke back up around five. Yeah, cool kid status up in here, up in here.

The pajama party was pretty great, but by 10 o'clock I was starting to die. So....tired...need....caffeine... Truth be told, I really just wanted a white coffee latte, but that late at night in the summertime where do you find one of those? Cruel joke, world.

So I went to the grocery store for an energy drink, because what else was I supposed to do? Just fall asleep on the couch? Not happening.

There's a point to this story, I promise.

The Boy came with me, and I picked out some fruit and a red Amp to help wake my brain back up. We discovered that our taste in bananas is vastly different. He likes them to be mushy and I prefer them just barely ripe - in case you were wondering.

In the check out line, the cashier was a pretty, young girl, but I didn't really notice who she was. She recognized me from school and asked me if I was going to teach any more classes at the university next semester. I had to look up from my wallet to see her face. She was one of my art 100 students.

We chatted about teaching and schooling for a few minutes and then I wished her a good night and The Boy and I left back for the car. He gives me this sidelong look like "what just happened?" So I told him I used to be her teacher.

As to which he asked about 7 billion questions about "But wait, you taught here? At the University?" and "how long was the class?" and "so then why are you so worried about student teaching?"

And really, why am I nervous about that? Because it's something I've never done before. It's totally classic fear of the unknown with me. I taught Art 100 studios for a year. I completed my practicum in the Moscow High School art room. I was a day camp counselor for two consecutive summers.

I have got this down.

But I'm still nervous. Excited, too, but mostly nervous. I figure once I'm actually there and I got my feet wet it won't be such a big deal. For now, though, it's a little nerve racking. What kinds of things do I need? What am I going to talk about? I've never done pottery before. I'll have to learn as much as the students. Deep breath. It'll be okay. I've got this.

Fake it til you make it, as they say. And I feel like that's exactly what I'll be doing. This is gonna be fun.