Friends.

Webster's dictionary defines the word, "friend" in several ways:

1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.

2. A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.

3. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.

4. One who supports, sympathizes with, or patronizes a group, cause, or movement

A movement huh? ya got that right.

 

It's no secret that over the past year I have more trouble with "friends" Than I have pairs of shoes.

Some friends I have lost, some I have become even closer with. I thank God everyday for that.

Recently, the inevitable happened. I lost another friend, but I decided to let her go.

Note to Self: NEVER EVER trust a girl with more insecurities than you have, with your heart.

Let's name this girl Dolores. Dolores was best friends with the boy I was in love with. Yea.

Dolores noticed the way....Brett....and I got along. She noticed the way I stared at him. She also noticed when I came to her, asking for help. Being in love with your best guyfriend is not the easiest situation.  So, logically, I thought she could help me figure out my feelings and see if maybe talking to him was a bad idea. For months, Dolores would listen to me complain about how Brett would send me mixed signals. She would pat my ego and say things like, "Becca, he's gay. He has to be." "Becca, I am his best friend, I'm also a girl. He feels to comfortable with me to take a risk with you." "Becca, he is going to ask you out, he has to."

So of course, I waited. I waited. I waited.

She was sure, I was sure, It had to happen.

Then the body image issues started coming out. I stopped eating. I let her know this, and she seemed to think it was a good idea, saying things like "The love department isn't easy for girls like us." My mouth would drop, knowing what she meant. "Life isn't easy for fat girls."

I was messed up, now. I was throwing myself at a boy that seemed to be oblivious. I was too old for this. I was expecting something that would never happen. One day, after an extremely drunk tirade on my part,

I told Dolores "You need to tell me what you know about his feelings, No matter what. I'm tired of waiting." I kept thinking that I should just talk to him, but Dolores made me feel like that would ruin everything. But then, one day...the world stopped.

 

Brett called me. Dolores had said some things about me.

 

"Becca?" he asked.

"Yea?" I sniffed, not believing what he had said.

"She's crazy. I know you are not a slut, I know you don't think I'm gay. I think the world about you."

"Then we need to talk about something." I said, crying through the phone.

"Yes. we do." He said.

"I was a little bit in love with you.  Dolores kept saying..." I cried.

"I know." Brett said. My stomach dropped.

"Becca, I think you are one of the best people I know, and I can't for the life of me figure out why I don't want to be with you." he said, sounding emotional himself.

"I do." I said.

"Enlighten me." he said.

"I'm not skinny or pretty enough" I blubbered into the phone.

"WHAT?!" Brett yelled. "Did she have you believing that?" He asked.

"I don't even know anymore. Brett but I..." I said.

"But nothing. I think you are absolutley, breathtakingly, gorgeous." He said. My heart stopped. It didn;t matter what else he said or I said. I finally realized there was nothing wrong with me except that I trust the wrong people.

Later in the week I told Dolores to shove it, and kicked her out of my life. Brett had started a movement to ride her from my life.

Brett and I are best friends.

He will never know that I'm still in love with him. It would tear us apart.

I have no idea where to go from here. He makes me so happy I can't stand it. I'm pretty misrable without him. I'm a mess, and I still can't help but think if I was a Russian super model I would have him in the palm of my hand.

 

But thus, the Funny Girl Strikes again.

 

 

Wrong With Me.

When a situation doesn't work out the way you want it to, like a relationship, a job, a course in school, anything the first thing that usually pops into my brain is "what's wrong with me?" I have always been like that, it's never anyone's fault but mine. I tend to say "I'm sorry" more than anyone i know. A friend once joked with me and said, "You know everytime you say I'm sorry when you are out with me I'm going to make you take a shot of vodka." Needless to say that night I got very drunk.

What makes this a horrible character trait of mine is that I always feel the need to change for those people that I love or so that I can fit within that situation. Recently, in my land of relationship trouble I chose to think that the reason it was not working was the fact that I was this horribly ugly pathetic lump who wasn't pretty, funny, skinny, or sexy enough for this guy to want me. What I soon realized is that I had been blinded by my infatuation with this boy that i had never realized how many other people were trying to tell me how amazing I was, I judged myself by this guy's reaction to me. Ladies, that happens to be the worst possible thing you can do. I know my view of myself will never be perfect, I doubt anybody's is, but Today i can honestly say that I love my personality and my sense of humor. I would not trade that for anything and am thankful for the gift. What I hope is that what I need and what I want out of this life will happen if I continue to put the love out there. Also to quote my brillant sister:

"Nobody can love you until YOU love you."

Complicated Order

So, I'm in a pickle again. A big one, like the ones they genetically engineer so that your entire sandwich can be covered in pickle.....But i digress

Recently, I have been building bridges and taking them down. I reconnected and let go of some friends whose relationships were proving to be an internal struggle for me. I feel much better in that arena now.

School is always going to be a struggle, but I passed the first semester, and am heavily in the second with just as many hurtles as before.

Family, for once, is good. Awesome actually.

And wouldn't you know it, boys make a huge ass problem in my already complicated order.

I have known a certain guy for a while, let's call him Brett. Brett has a best friend named....Chevy...yea Chevy. I have known Brett since 9th grade, and known of Chevy since 12th grade. I have always thought of these boys as total platonic entities that thought I was hott and/or amazing.

While going through some inner struggle with those couple of girlfriends recently, I found myself with nobody, except one blogger callimache, to turn to. In comes 2 shinning white knights with every sort of compliment, inspiring story, and funny joke to make me feel human again. I fell in love with the way they made me feel.

Then, one strange stormy night, i had a dream. A NAUGHTY DREAM.........about Brett

I woke up with feelings so foreign to me my heart was beating like a hummingbird.

"What the Fu--" i began, throwing my covers off me to run to the bathroom with wobbly legs and a pound short of dignity. I splashed cold water on my face and looked at my reflection.

"You just had sex with Brett in your dream." I said to myself. Shit.

From that point on, in the absolute heat of nursing school, family birthdays, trying to maintain a job, and friend issues, i now had to deal with this strange perverted image in my head. What exactly did it mean?

I though about it constantly. In class, in the hospital, watching TV....when i was with Brett. In fact, while sitting with Brett in his apartment, sans Chevy, something clicked. I HAD ENJOYED IT. The thought of doing the no-pants dance with Brett was now intriguing. I...dare say....wanted to. I looked over at him, an my mouth opened to say what i had been thinking about for the past week.

"You ok, Becca?" Brett asked, brown eyes concerned.

"I have to-tell....I need to go." I said, chickening out. Damn.

For the next couple of weeks i tried to forget about it. I focused on school, made good grades, worked on myself, and almost forgot about it.

The day after my nursing finals were done, i had the same dream again. This time though my brain seemed to put more thought into it, identifying where we were, who was wearing what, and even what we said to one another. I woke up with a mission. I needed to figure this out.

The next time i saw Brett, i changed.  My parents were leaving for a wedding, and I had invited him over to my house.  I wasn't making penis jokes with him and Chevy, and ball-busting like I usually was. I took extra time to do my hair, makeup and other magic tricks. I was going to make him dinner, and look hott. He knocked on the door and my heart almost exploded. He walked in with a huge bouquet of white lillies, and some dessert he said he was going to make for me. It went perfect. the dinner. the conversation. the atmosphere. Amazing. What happened at the end of the night you may ask?

NOT A DAMN THING.

We sat on the couch together, so full from all the food we made. He scooted closer, placing his head on my stomach and his hands under my legs. I started getting excited. This was it. This was it.

"It's 1230, maybe I should go so your parents won't find me here." he said, giving me an 100-watt smile.

WHAT?!!! No, don't go! I'm pretty sure you are getting laid tonight!!!!!!

"Ok, I loved having you here." I squeaked, thrilled that girls didn't get boners. But as we got up, I noticed that his pants looked a little funny. There was a tent in his crotch. Brett had a stiffy. I tired to hide my smile and walked him outside. He left, with nothing more than a hug, burying his stubbly face in my neck. He was gone. He drove out of the driveway. I burped, and walked inside, near tears.

Does he want me, like i want him?

Your guess is as good as mine.

So now I'm at a quandary. What does someone in this position do? Punn intended.

Funny Girl

I believe women accross the country can basicaly be summed up into two different lables.

The Pretty girl and the The Funny Girl.

Let me define these for you:

The Pretty girl is one of extremes. She either has everything handed to her, or her beauty is the only thing she has. She has mostly male attention directed towards her and never has a problem finding a lab partner, prom date, or boyfriend. She loves breaking the rules and testing her limits...because she can. She is so beautiful that she could rob a bank and get away with it scott free.  She validates herself with the people that surround her, boyfriends, friends and their compliments.  She doesn't have to be intelligent, but she can be. She has a lot of fake confidence to where she almost belives she is worth more than her looks. Sometimes she is friends with a funny girl.

The Funny girl is a very complex creature. She also can go by the name of "the smart girl" or "one of the guys".  She is ususally very smart, and has confidence in everything but her looks. She usually is very pretty, but nobody seems to think so. She has many defense mechanisms, humor is the most common device.  She can be shy, but she doesn't have to be, nobody notices her looks anyway. Most girls like this have a problem with food and their weight. They use food for comfort, to hide their feelings. They are great actresses, and always put on a smile for you.  Some of these girls can find quality boyfreinds, but it is ususally long after highschool. She never gets asked to dance. She sometimes feels uncomfortable around boys. Boys seem to look through her, use her only for her brain, to ask about another girl, or to hear a funny joke.  She flinches at pictures of herself, and secretly wishes she was a pretty girl.


I AM A FUNNY GIRL.
There you have it...the truth. If somebody else would say this, I would make fun of it. Saying that there is nothing wrong with being a funny girl. But when you keep getting passed over for dances, when pictures of yourself make you want to scream, and the fact that every guy you have ever had feelings for passes you up for another girl...you start to want to be that pretty girl. That sounds awful, anti-feminist, degrading, and pathetic...but there is something you can't argue with:

Life is easier when you get to be both.

She is the reason

“She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows you are smiling, even in the dark; She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. And some, days she the reason you wish you were an only child.” -Barbara Alpert

I believe this quote sums up the true complex relationship about sisters. It is very close to my heart.

I have two sisters, Caroline and MaryHannah...We're from the south ya'll.


We have been through so much together, especially Caroline and I. 


In short, there is nobody on this earth I love more that I love her. She knows me inside and out, because i am pretty much an open book with people once you get past the humor defense mechanism. Caroline is a different story. She has always been kept to herself and different...alternative. She drove our mother crazy with her right-brained ideas and creative expression. She always was listening to a new band and painting her fingernails black, having relationships with boys before I, her older sister, did.  She probably a parent's worst nightmare. 


But I love her. 


Even though she knows exactly the thing to say that could tear me to pieces. 


Even though sometimes looking at her makes me annoyed


Even though she gives my mother gray hairs


Even though she is selfish and immature


Even though now that she's dating a guy that i still have a problem with, I love her.


So, this weekend on the way to a mandatory family event, she hurt me. 


Caroline has a big problem with my mother's side of the family. In short, after my parents reconciled their nasty separation my mother's side of the family acted like he didn't exist.  


I still like to keep regular contact with them because my youngest sister, MaryHannah, needs to be able to know her cousins that are close to her age. It's not fair to her to ignore them. 


In the car, Caroline and I were bickering...as per the usual. Then, one of us said something below the belt like we always do, and we started taking jabs. This is usuallly accompanied by me laughing and Caroline doing a spot on impression of me. Note...if you have a sister you know that you can go from hating her guts so much you get red in the face...to absolute kindred spirit love. 


Now, I started complaining that she always did a below the belt comment, and how i never would be that harsh with her. then she said...


"...you still care about the opinion of mom's family. Now i realize it, YOU'RE JUST LIKE THEM. You're self-righteous, pathetic, petty, and awful. It all makes so much sense now. "  my mouth dropped open


"Wow." i whispered. You guessed it, tears started pouring out of my corneas and my nose became bulbous.  i clinched the steering wheel in the realization that the person that knew me the best in the whole world was insulting me at my weakest spot.  My worst fear. 


She knows my worst fear...ending up like my mother's siblings. Inflincting unnecessary pain on our family.  

I saw her from the corner of my watery eye. she looked botherd. 

"Caroline!" MaryHannah scolded. She was only 12 and knew that what my sister had said had crossed a line. 


"Apologize!" she yelled. Caroline remained stoic...because we both knew the answer to that.  


Caroline does not apologize. She has made an effort to never perform this act ever again. She belives it to be an insincere form of repentance. I think she's is just way too stubborn and immature. 


"I'm sorry. MaryHannah's right, that was uncalled for." she whispered, still stoic. She seemed to be suprised at her own tact.  


I nodded, instantly accepting...and the first time i had ever heard my sister apologize since 1996. 


As we pulled up to my uncle's house, while i was mopping my eyes and fixing my mascara...she came over and patted my shoulder (which is the equivalent of her kissing my face...she hates touching) 


"I really am sorry." she whisperd, her voice almost shaking. She was about to cry.  


My knees almost buckled. She said it AGAIN. 


This is a lesson in sisters...no matter what...it's what we are...so you might as well like each other...you might be pleased with the result.  


laughtoomuchalways

Big Girls Don't Cry

"Crying" is defined as a verb: to weep; shed tears, with or without sound, or  as an adjective : demanding attention or remedy; critical; severe

Well...i do it quite a bit.

I get this trait from my mother, who cries when she's "upset, mad, sad, annoyed, and overjoyed."

I am exactly the same way. Every emotion I have is hard-wired to my tear ducts. I can't help it. I try to remain stoic, and hard. I try to suck it up and remember that big girls don't cry. This is something i will inevitably struggle with the rest of my life.

So, in my vocation of choice...nursing...what am I going to do when school seems impossible? When a patient is horrible? When a patient dies? I sure as hell can't cry.

Crying is so embarassing for me because i am one ugly crier. My whole face gets red....the edge of my nose gets bulbous, red, and runny. my skin is sticky and clammy. Sometimes, I start to hyperventilate and i take sharp intakes of breath.  In short....I look like an epileptic rudolph.

It's horrible. I mean, I have always had some anxiety about things, but I deal with it as best I can.  Sure, things suck for a while but they always have a way of working out, and I am surrounded by a lot of great people to help me.

Today, my microbiology lab culture was totally wrong, and it was a graded practical that was worth a bunch of points. I pretty much destroyed my bacteria. My lab professor had a stoic, almost cruel look on his face when he said that i had accidentally "killed my bacteria by heat-fixing it too long"

Also, i had found out yesterday that the nursing school i wanted to go to, after already being rejected by my first choice, has put me on the wait list. I am number one on the wait list, but i still hate the idea of not being a sure thing.

As my professer told me this news, i equated this failure to directly being tied with getting wait-listed by my nursing school.  My eyes started to water...

"Suck it up, girl." i whispered to myself

more tears leaked fro my eyes, and my nose started running

"Shit...stop stop stop." i said again

Now my hands were shaking, trying to write notes down in my notebook. then as i tried to light my bunsen burner...my breathing became irregular. my chest started to rise and fall


NO NO NO NO...NOT IN FRONT OF EVERYONE.

too late...I was having a full blown panic attack. I was hyperventilating.

My professor came running over, patting my shoulder to calm me down. The funny part is, i am skilled in how to handle when i am hyperventilating. i knew what i needed to do...but it still took a herculean effort to do so. i grabbed the edge of my lab table and held my breath, trying to restore my normal breathing patten. I inhaled and exhaled into my cupped hands, trying to restore my CO2 balance. I WAS MORTIFIED.

Never in my life had i wanted to solve this problem more. My mom is no help, on account of she is trying to figure it out as well.

All I can say is that I'm not perfect, ans sometimes big girls do cry.
All I can say is that the real person I'm mad at is myself
All I can say is that i want and feel things so much, that these emotions come out as tears. There's a little endearment in that somewhere, huh? I'm not sure.

So, the next time you see a girl crying in the corner of a classroom, on a bus, in church...just shoot her a smile. Don't say anything, don't acknowledge her tears...just smile, that way our subconsciousness will copy your action.

LAUGHTOOMUCHALWAYS

"If I cry one tear for my daddy, I stole it off a crocodile."

21favorite movies*: 
Pride and Prejudice (1996 & 2005)- Jane Austen’s books translate on screen better than any book I’ve ever read.  I first saw this movie when I was 16, after reading the book.  First of all, Mr. Darcy is way better than Edward Cullen.  He is human, made mistakes, but tries to hard to prove his love to Elizabeth. This story clearly demonstrates one of my favorite quotes… “never judge a book by its cover.”  And the fact that one can never assume the battles one is dealing with inside their own head. I also love the fact that Eliza is headstrong, and the relationship she shares with her sister Jane.  Relationships between sisters are complex, joyous, and sometimes heartbreaking. This story reaches just the tip of the iceberg in sisterly dynamics, but no other story rivals it’s progress until In Her Shoes. I can watch this movie any day or all day.

2.       The Shawshank Redemption- This movie changed my way of thinking forever.  Narrated by the messiah himself, Morgan Freeman, described his stint in prison with his friend, Andy…a man wrongly accused of killing his wife.  Stephen King takes you on a journey throughout his friendship with Andy, finding out what is going on behind his peaceful facade. SEE THIS MOVIE.

3.       Saved!-no other movie made me question my religion and beliefs more than this one did. Christians are not always the best people. Seriously undervalued movie. I can watch it over and over again. The moral: forgiveness, kindness, and acceptance make the world a better place.

4.       Cold Mountain-ONE OF THE BEST CIVIL WAR EPICS OF ALL TIME. Renee Zelwegger’s oscar winning performance in this tragic, but uplifting story about love during the civil war in Cold mountain, Virginia.

5.       Slumdog Millionaire- MOST. INSPIRATIONAL. MOVIE.EVER.  Indian movie with no Bolliwood. Score.

6.       Nicholas Nickleby-Charles’s Dicken’s book set to screen. Anne Hathaway, the due from SOA and sound of music. SO GOOD.

7.       Say anything-my favorite 80s movie of all time. The Breakfast Club is awesome, but this movie made me think more. How much would you do for the one you love?

8.       In Her Shoes-The best story about sisters I have ever seen. This movie accurately depicts the true life and politics that goes on between sisters. It makes me cry every time.

9.       Forrest Gump- no movie on this earth can make me feel so incredibly wonderful and depressed. in a good way.

10.   The Secret Garden-childhood favorite, it’s so hauntingly beautiful.
      Rear Window- Alfred Hitchock +Grace Kelly = Masterpiece

11.   A Little Princess-I still believe every  girl is a princess.

12.   Waitress-best example of how the a girl can NOT end up with the guy at the end of the movie, but still has a gushy, heartfelt ending.

13.   The Sound of Music- “Climb every Mountain” gives me chillbumps

14.   Sense and Sensibility (2008) BBC-again, has to do with sisters. This movie actually chronicles some mirrored examples from me and my own sister’s lives. 

15.   Heavyweights-Do I really have to explain this one?

16.   Secret life of Bees-Dakota Fanning gives an awesome performance, Jennifer Hudson, Queen Latifah, and Alicia Keys all demonstrate strong women

17.   Drop Dead Gorgeous-hands down the best dark comedy I have ever seen

18.   The Hangover-I wet my pants

19.   What’s Up doc?-Barbara Streisand and Ryan O’neal are magic 
               Shakespere in Love-a great “what if this really happened” story

*All Harry Potter movies are on another level and have been excluded from this list