It is now September, when schools anxiously start, and trees await the change of autumn colors.

I have now begun college, where professors fulfill their speech, while football games run beyond.

It is now September, when summer softly shuts, as autumn bravely opens in colors of golden hues.

I have now begun college, where panic trickles by, obnoxiously flowing under my feet, being an annoying little reminder of failure.

It is now September when children recall the memories of holidays, while restlessly dreaming  for sugary moments, filled with utter delight.

I have now begun college, where subjects test your principles, as former tactical layouts crumble, and new foundations of interest eagerly seek answers.


Hallelujah! that I can tell you what mitochondria is! Because when I’m reading over contracts and applications, my knowledge of the mitochondria is what truly matters. 
Hallelujah! that I can see which quadratic equation matches the given graph! Because when I’m filling out my tax forms the quadratic equation really helps to recall my knowledge of the 401K. 

Hallelujah! that I can figure out logarithms and how to calculate different slopes when I’m trying to figure out my tax bracket and earnings. 

Hallelujah! that my school has prepared me for my future in which I don’t necessarily need to know what a mitochondria is! 

Hallelujah! that I’m wasting my time and energy learning details that I don’t necessarily need for me to succeed. 

Taking a Break

As senior year as hit me the hardest; socially and mentally, I have quit my job in able to focus on grounding myself. I have lost many things this year. Friendships that I have don’t last that long, or are struggling to stay together. I have made stupid mistakes and because of those mistakes, I’m suffering. I suffer every day through my mental illnesses. Adding my fragile friendships to my brittle self-esteem and mind set; I’ve come to multiple decisions. Although going to a prestigious out-of-state college would be the best for my social life and to feed my wanderlust, I have decided to stay in Utah and attend a smaller university. Being accepted into my dream school Western Washington University, shed some light onto what I am capable of achieving. Over the next few months I will be reevaluating my life and how I can begin to fix myself. I have many supporters in my life and for those who have stuck with me, I am eternally grateful for not leaving my side. Thank you to all.

3 Months

I love staring at him. Even though he hates when I stare at him. Focusing on every feature and smirk that resonates on his face. Analyzing his emotions that sprout forward when he’s thinking, fascinates me. What are you thinking about? How did your thought come up? 
I love when he drives. When he drives its a whole new adventure every time, but in the same neighborhood. The car is manual, but he drive’s it, like he’s riding a bucking bronco, sharp turns, and staggered stop’s and go’s. 
I loved my growth with him. He helped me to feel a happiness that I haven’t felt in years. With my anger and sadness no longer burning my insides, I began to genuinely smile. He helped me to push myself into relationships with family again. He helped me.
I loved my time with him. Although my nights were sleepless but filled with stories and thoughts about the past, I loved the details that were described at 3 am. Listening and talking for hours on hours about the nasty nightmares that would haunt our days, our dreams that we felt were as unreachable as the sun, and about us. 
I loved discovering that I was never in the lead. I loved that feeling of being completely torn, knowing that I wasn’t good enough, but that he would be happy again. I loved the acknowledgment of the fact that I was just a placeholder. I loved the recognition that I was a gateway to my friends. I loved the realization that he was just a small lesson on the way to graduation. 

– This took over 8 months to write after accepting all of the facts and moving on. 


With all the questions running through my head. I wonder if my questions are putting people off. My friends are all constantly being asked out, asked for their numbers, and winked at. Is it my appearance? Is it my attitude? Is it my questions?
I have questions.
With all the questions running through my head of who I am, who do I like, what do I like. My friends seem grounded, they seem to have more control. Is it my emotionally imbalanced past? Is it my lack of expressing any emotion other than anger? Is it my open opinions? 
I have questions.

With all the questions running through my head of why am I even questioning, what does this accomplish, what am I supposed to accomplish. More questions surface, connecting some to previous ideas and leaving some dead ended, my questions begin to question themselves. My questions grow and grow. My mind suffers, I become quiet. I become hesitant, and close to crying out of frustration. I begin to question these feelings.
I have questions.  

Yay Money!

Over the past two months I have acquired a job as a cashier at … hmm … for employee and employer security reasons … let’s name my work place “Center of Crap”. While only working for a short amount of time, I have gained plenty of new knowledge about my future; I will be a strict mother, college will be long, and that when I’m old I will always have lipstick on my teeth.

To evaluate on what I meant previously by I will be a strict mother is that when my customers come in with their crying, whining, complaining children, I come up with at least eight different ways on how I would shut them up.  I understand that parents do live with these children and just choose to block them out, due to multiple tantrums that have already been thrown, but honestly, people, shut your offspring up! Or here’s another idea… don’t bring them into a store! I have always had a firm hand since I was little, but lately it has just been increasing with my new job. I now know not to manipulate my children too much, unless of course it is the end of everything else.

Moving on to college, oh boy have I learned a lot. Almost every college student that I have interacted with as a cashier, smells like ramen noodles , last night’s alcohol, and some cheap perfume/cologne that their high school sweetheart bought them. It’s quite entertaining though when these impatient and hungover college students are in my line with 90 year olds in front of them who are digging through their Versace purses finding their store credit card. Looking at their faces of defeat, I ask them how they are and if they found everything all right, making eye contact with me, I begin to hear about b*tchy professors, and how they drank way too much last night and how they still have to go home and study for an Ethics final and a Psychology quiz. Over the weeks, I have accumulated that college will be a mix of the never disappearing smell of alcohol, depressed professors, and roommates who have too much sex.

I have yet to see an older customer who does not have lipstick on her teeth. I feel bad for not mentioning anything to them, but its hard to get a word in when they’re telling me about how much I look like one of their great-granddaughters or their next door neighbor. Not only can’t I go through my companies policy of telling them about all the rewards they can win, or cards they can sign up for, but they happily engage other customers around them into story time! The lipstick on their teeth makes me wonder just how  many customers with lipstick on their teeth have dentures?

Clearly I am entertained and enlightened at work, and I am grateful for my job, my wonderful coworkers and nice bosses, but sometimes I just want to quit! But then I remember how much money I need (and want)!



As the two-days-away mark came up for me to leave for this conference, I started having horrible anxiety attacks. I would be spending four days with absolutely no one I knew. But last night eight of us truly bonded. We played Uno Dare, but the dares were lame so we spiced them up. After making everyone uncomfortably comfortable with stepping outside their comfort zones, we started talking about our messed up families. Thats what truly bonded us. Almost all of us could relate to eachother through messed up parents. We all learned about some of the scariest moments in our lives. Things that have already and will continue to scar us. 

It was in that hour of talking, that I understood more about why we’re all in the Peer Court association. 
It was in that hour of talking, that we learned more about ourselves and eachother. 

It was that moment that we truly connected.