Sing to Me Country!

I know I am from California. How can I ever forget? It's the best state ever, and I love it! BUT! I have a confession to make; I'm not proud of it (being a California kid), but I can't help it! I have learned to love country music. I mean, I guess it was inevitable going to college in the south, but still, at first I thought I would fit right in because I was always the odd one out back home because I liked country music (aka Taylor Swift and Carrie Underwood). I didn't realize that it gets so much worse/better than that (depending on your view). At first I wasn't sure what to think. It was weird-no lie! They sang about the most random things! However, it soon started to grow on me. I am now a firm believer that a weird southern twang/drawl can only sound good singing a country song. Now, I like the random things they sing about; it makes the song seem more real. Because they choose specific random words it makes it seem more personal and like they picked out each word carefully, which reminds me of poetry. Hmmm. . . Sorry, I just had a great [country] song come on and play softly in my ears. That's another thing. Country music is feel good music which I love! Music should make you feel good. Whether your super sad or super happy you can listen to country music and it's like a good friend. It will comfort you and wrap you in a big southern hug. :) I think to enjoy country music the most you have to experience it the way they sing about it. Riding around in your pickup truck with the windows open and breeze on your face. This is what I did last year with my roommate and is what probably started this weird love affair I have with country music. I don't know. I have a feeling it's something about being in the south though. Like I cannot imagine going back home for Christmas break and jamming to my country playlist that I've since listened to while back at college. You know what I mean though? Like country music is great while you're actually in the country because you can relate to everything they're singing about, but if I'm driving down the highway in California I don't know if it would feel the same. Anyway, now you know my confession. Though I'm not apologizing for it. I like country music; not nearly as much as the southern sweet talking girl next door but enough. I understand if you don't like it; heck I know I didn't until I was immersed in the country culture for a year. All I ask is that if you ever find yourself stranded in the south with some person talking so strangely you have no frickin' idea what they're saying then just turn on the radio and give country music a chance. Music is a universal language so maybe country music is your link to the south.

P.S.
If you find yourself falling in love with it like an unexpected crush then you're welcome! HAHA! ;-)

xoxoxo
-GreenGirl

Give me forgiveness for not giving blood.

This is the second time it's happened, once last semester and now this week.

Everyone is donating blood. The vans are parked on front campus and students line up to give their blood and get a T-shirt. I can't. I want to, but I can't. I know I'm not the only one, but I'm pretty sure I am the only one without a valid excuse. Some were born in another country; some don't weigh enough; some have low iron or insulin and some have had a sickness or disease so they cannot partake. Not me. I am totally healthy, a little overweight and was born in the awesome USA, but yet I cannot give blood. It's not that I don't try, but I can never make it onto the vans. The same thing happened twice.  I get saddened and guilty seeing everyone wearing their T-shirts like it's their trophy proudly earned and bandages on their arms like it covers their battle wound received by saving lives.

My conscious tells me I need to give blood so I walk to the vans from my dorm. The walk is sobering as I think over my decision and make sure I want to do this. I realize it's a good cause so I keep on. I continue until I am 15 feet from the vans, lines of people and busy workers. I can't move any more. I just stand there frozen in fear. I don't know what goes on in the van. I don't know the process and if I'm honest with myself I don't want to know! I have a fear of blood and needles. They say it isn't uncommon, but it seems as if I am the only one on campus who is allowing it to get in the way of giving blood.

Oh no! A worker just spotted me. He tilts his head in my direction and walks over. "Hey you going to get in line?" he asks. "Um, ya, maybe." I manage to get out through my dry mouth. "Alright, well, the line's moving down so now is a good time." He replies with a small smile before turning around to walk away. As soon as he's far enough away and I know he's not looking I scram. I am so embarrassed! He caught me and I didn't even have the guts to tell him that I wish I could, but I was scared spitless!

Why does this happen to me? I get so mad! Why do I have to be a coward?

There was a girl I knew last year, who I found out could relate to me! She didn't like needles and blood either, and it felt great knowing that I wasn't the only not giving, but then she abandoned me! She ended up being talked into giving blood by a friend and said it was no big deal. Now she is one of the ones I try to avoid because she is the biggest pain trying to guilt me into giving (like I don't guilt myself enough)! It's not the pain I'm afraid of; it's my imagination. I can't get over my brain giving me super violent images of needles and blood and all that could go wrong and me fainting and every other hypothetical situation! I know you should just ignore all the "what ifs" but maybe there's good reason for them. I honestly don't know.

I feel like I'm just being so selfish, but at the same time I know that's not the reason I'm not giving. I want to save lives! I want to be a hero! I want to be able to say I gave blood and proudly wear the T-shirt everyone else wears, but I can't. I don't say that lightly. I know many may say "Yes, she can; she just chooses not to; she won't." But I seriously don't know if I will ever be able to make it closer than 15 feet in front of the van. This fact saddens me and makes me angry, but I have a fear. Yes, I may be dramatic and yes I may very well be overreacting, but that doesn't make it any less real.

So I am sorry. If I offend you, if I make you angry, if you need blood some day and I'm your type, but I didn't give any then I truly am sorry. But for now when I cannot give blood, forgive me. I hope someday this changes; I hope to give blood, but until then please do not have ought against me. Don’t judge; instead look into your soul to the kid you used to be. The one dreadfully afraid to go to the doctor’s to get your shots and remember how squeamish your stomach was and how bad you wanted to run away. How you wanted to kick the doctor and scream at the top of your lungs and cry. This is how I feel every time I stand in front of those white vans.

Today's thoughts: What you do doesn't make you, you!

Saying "nothing personal" just ensures that I will take it personal. It's like going hunting and saying "I'm not hunting you." to the deer while having the bullseye target on its back but not shooting.

Saying "I'm sorry." doesn't really count when the only reason you say it is because it makes you a better person.

And saying "I'm not all that" doesn't mean anything when the reason you say that is because you think you are all that. If you didn't you wouldn't have to keep telling yourself that you're not; you would just know.

I'm not disappointed in you; I'm disappointed in what you've done. You are not the same person you were, and the old you would not have done what the new you just did. Just as I love you, but hate what you've done; so I'm saddened for you but not what life has handed you. Because perhaps without you going through what you are now you will not learn what you will and you will still be the you that I love but am disappointed in your actions. At least for now though it pains me to see you struggling I have the hope that with these troubles something good will come. A change, a change of you so that what I know you to be will be what every one else sees as well.

I don't understand.

     Let's be honest. We don't understand everything that happens. We rarely do. I don't know why I woke up late this morning and my alarm didn't go off. I don't know why I'm half way across the country from my home to go to college. And I don't know why my computer decided to be stupid and totally erase this blog post that I had already written.

     But it's life, and it's unfair, and it's not supposed to make sense. The reality is that the unpredictability of life is what makes it so great! The fact that you never know what's going to happen and that at any one moment life can change.

     What makes it not so great? The fact that those changes can either be for the worse or the better. Until the time when pigs fly, I stop writing, guys stop being weird, and Green Lantern stops being cool we'll never know the answer to the big question WHY?

     But alas, even on the worst of days let us be comforted by the thought, that God is in control. No matter how big, how scary, or how stupid your situation may seem he's got it all figured out. He loves us and wants the best for us, and that's why we don't know why yet. Because, he saves the best for last. :)



I Do Not Understand, God! God?



I know you have a plan,

But you're not sharing it.

You don't have to--you're king.

Sometimes, I still question.

If you want the world saved

And you bring them so close;

Why not just do the rest

To save them from the ledge?

Especially when family

Who love them and do care

Are praying like crazy,

And nothing seem to help!

I know I have no right

To question what you choose,

But sometimes it's worse pain

To watch loved ones suffer.



Stay Strong,

GreenGirl

Scholarships!

   Most people don't enjoy competing for scholarships because "They take too long." or "I'll never win." or "THEY'RE ALWAYS ESSAYS!" No, they aren't always essay, but many of them are which gives me an advantage since I like to write! Now, I know they can be odd and weird subjects, but those are ones to go for because just as you are saying in your head "I'm not doing this it's too weird." There's others saying the same and not even trying so go ahead and just put something in. I bet the companies that offer the prize money choose those topics since their so different because then it really narrows down how many submissions they get. Anyways, I recently wrote an essay for a scholarship it wasn't weird but it was enjoyable. I had to write my plans for the future in 500 words or less. Who knows if I'll win, but as I said I do it because I am a writer! Here's what I wrote:

As Martin Luther King Junior had a dream so do I. I plan to graduate from college in the spring of 2017 with a bachelor’s degree in Journalism and Mass Communication. By then I will have had an internship with a local newspaper. This will set me up for an after-college job. Most likely I will start as small column journalist for a local newspaper here I will develop a solid reputation until I can move to a larger newspaper firm in a big city where I can develop my skills further. While working for the newspaper I will continue to do what I love most-write creatively. This will be in my free time and I will be working to gain an audience and good repute for my career change. I will work in the news industry until I save up enough money to support myself for at least a year without any income. I am to become a freelance writer (someone who can support themselves solely off of their own writing), but even if I don’t sell anything right off I have money saved for this occasion. I have a yearning to be able to share my words and thoughts with others on a large scale. I feel through writing I can express myself better and make my points clearly known. I want to influence people through my writing and hopefully have a successful writing career. My writing will be mostly poetry and fiction. I wish to share my happiness with others and put a smile on the face of anyone who reads my work. Many people say they love writing, but they are the same people who throw “love” around as if it’s just another word. I believe the thing that sets me apart from others is my raw need for writing. I would write even if the most important people in the world told me I was a terrible writer because I do not write for others but for myself. I do not just enjoy writing; I crave it. If you don’t have something to say why would people listen or read your work? I have a story to tell and writing is my means of telling it to the world. One day, I will have a book published; you can bet on it. So keep your eye on Oprah’s Book Club and on the New York Time’s bestseller’s list because one day it may my book you see there. Walt Disney said, “All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” And I for one have both dreams and courage.

I apologize.

There's always those days where you don't know why, but you just don't feel like yourself. This was me today. I was quiet and felt gloomy and so unlike myself. It wasn't PMS; it wasn't because it was rainy, and it wasn't because of dumb drama. (Drama you thought you'd be done with once you got out of high school, but then realize that even in college there's kids that think they are still in high school and will do anything to create drama.) But back to now.

It just didn't make sense. I felt like a lost puppy all day wandering around hoping to find my owner, but not knowing where I was. I didn't want to feel like this, but I couldn't help it. It was as if the real me was being shoved aside by this girl who was rude and dark. I hated her, but that just added anger to my pot of gloom.

It was a long day; a Monday which also seemed to make it seem worse! All day, I felt like crying for the littlest things! It was so annoying. I would hear someone tell their friend a sad story and I would want to cry! I would hear a simple, beautiful song and my mind screamed "CRY!" I refused. I would not be that girl, the girl that cries for no reason. The girl that when everyone else is singing she breaks down sobbing. That would not be me. So when my eyes automatically started to tear up I stopped them in their tracks. They would not get past me. I was the gatekeeper of my soul and nothing would pass without my permission.

Fast-forward to tonight. It's been a looooooong day. I am tired. I am worn. I am frustrated. I am angry at myself for being tired and worn and frustrated, and finally I let loose. I cry and I don't even try and stop the tears. The gatekeeper retired for the day, and anything goes past without inspection. I don't like the wet tracks on my cheeks, but my soul is feeling more free so I let it go on. Everything from the day is washed away by these salty tears. I cry an ocean and when it's over nothing remains. The bitterness, anger, and other suppressed feelings are gone. Only I remain. My body too limp to do anything but slouch in my bed, and my brain too tired to do anything but hope I never experience this again.

So this is my apology to anyone that had to deal with me today. I take full credit for the sad, depressed girl that you saw; there's no one else to blame. I would love to say it wasn't me, but I would be lying. All I know is that I never want to be that girl again. If that means crying once in a while just because, then so be it. This day I promise to try and be the girl that not just you expect me to be, but to be everything I expect of myself. To not be transparent and insecure-this is my goal. Thank you to all that deal with me despite my imperfections. <3 xoxoxo

~GreenGirl

My head to my heart to my hand...

     Well, it's been a while again since I last wrote. Man, I really hate it when I forget to post! Anyways, for a while I was having trouble writing. It seemed nothing was flowing which didn't make sense. I kept thinking, "I know I have stuff I want to say; it's in there somewhere!" For some reason it just wouldn't come out onto paper! It's a hard process really. I have to know what I want to say in my head and get the thought perfect, then run it through the veins of my heart so that it gets the feelings and passion put into it, and lastly my hand must cooperate and physically put the words on paper in good lines of poetry. My sister sent me my poetry journal from home (I had forgotten it there over Christmas break). I received it in the mail maybe two/three weeks ago. I immediately opened it up and read some old poetry, that I believe is still some of my best, then I turned to a blank page. For some reason turning to a blank page gives me a fluttery feeling I can't describe-it's the best! As soon as I uncapped one of my favorite pens my hand seemed uncontrollable as it flew across the page jotting down lines of poetry. It was so strange! There was no struggle my hand finally decided to deliberate with my head and my heart and the results weren't too shabby. :) This is only one of the poems that was written that day and the best part? My writing hasn't stopped; so be expecting more poetry soon!

Silver Lining:

It's been said to me before

"Why must you smile so,

Is your life, like, perfect?"

I always reply, "No."

My life has ups and downs

Just like every other soul

It depends upon your outlook

Is your glass half empty or full?

~GreenGirl