In recognition of the woman I'll never be.

A friend of mine recently went through a rebranding of sorts in all that she does. While the new her and the old her are similar in a lot of ways, especially her open and honest writing style, there are some things that have changed. I can look at her and see how this new focus has caused her to grow and develop, the changes have been incredibly positive in her life and it all started by being willing to distance herself from her comfort zone and taking a chance on being the full authentic her.

Needless to say, the people I truly consider my friends are some of the most inspiring people you would ever have the pleasure to meet - and obviously, they inspire and challenge me.

I've spent the past at least 4 of the past 6 years attempting to be something that I'm not - and frankly, I'm tired.

It wasn't until I cried for the second time this week in a conversation with a woman who is becoming less of an acquaintance and more of a friend, that I came to realize that sometimes to make things work out, to make things ideal, you have to compromise who you are - and for years I had tried.

I had tried in college to be the girl that hung out with all the cool kids, went out to the clubs, and was crazy. I indulged in my excess, it worked for a year until it backfired and in response I shut out everybody.

Or at least I tried.

Later, I would try to put on the face of the reformed. No drinking, no hanging out, being so cautious with my words, so protected with my thoughts, trying in vain to be someone else, someone I knew and admired and thought of as better than me.

I've only had 2 years where I truly felt like I was being true to myself and those were the years that I filled my life with poetry, music, writing, and what felt like sisterhood to the girls that lived on my floor at school. It was camaraderie, it was honesty, it was great.

I wonder if being an adult is just a series of compromises that we make to feel better about where we are in life. Do we change our personalities to make others more comfortable? And if so, how much do we change? Coming from a culture of being upfront and blunt about my feelings and being transported to a place where everything is fine and dandy and all about appearances is stifling, but today and for the rest of my life, I'm putting the mask down.

The things that make me who I am aren't bad, they're different. I'm a woman who loves to read and loves to talk, I'm loud and a bit impetuous. I sing, I dance, I scream, you can always tell when I come to work because my music is loud enough you can hear it before you can see my car, I eat all the time, and I love it. I love the little pieces that make up the bigger picture of who I am.

The hardest thing about trying to be something that you aren't isn't whether or not you succeed with deceiving the people around you, that's actually the easiest part, but the hardest part is understanding at your center that you haven't been authentic to yourself, that you're not free, that you've offered up only an empty shell of a person to those that you claim to be close to.

There's nothing wrong with being the person you are.

I guess after being around my friends that have seen me at my highs and lows, I'm realizing that being authentic is something that has to be valued. I know that not everyone deserves to see me in my full, and I also know that not everyone can handle me in my full, but those that can and do have always been the best. Tuesday I got a text from my friend that brightened my entire day:

I love you always. You're a bright light in my life. You're always welcome.

It was a short message with the most meaningful words that I could possibly receive. You're always welcome. Despite my crazy spells, my loud nature, my random decisions, and my general muchness, I was always welcome, and I know it wasn't just something she was saying for the hell of it. It was real.

I guess it was that message and several others that helped me to come to terms that I need to stop being a people-pleaser, I need to stop trying to make everyone a friend and realize that not everyone is meant to be a friend, that it's okay to not be liked, even without reason, and that the people who are worth my time, will be clear as day. Not everyone will accept me as I am, and while it may be a little late in the game to be willing to acknowledge this fact, I prefer getting it now versus never getting it at all.

An ode to my first home.

Humble beginnings, man I tell ya.

For me, moving into my first "home" or at least my first apartment was a big step. I've spent my entire life surrounded by people at basically all parts of my life and now, for a little over a year, I've been alone.

This weekend was one of the most stressful and emotional times I've experienced while living here. Who knew being alone could be so painful and lonely? Not me.

I've lived the majority of my life moving around, making new friends, and for some reason, I thought this move would be just like all the rest, a standard, pick up and go. I understood at my core that I wouldn't know anyone in the area, that it would basically be college all over again, but this was different than college all over again, because in college we're all alone, we're all starting somewhere new and while some of us came in with friends, many of us didn't know that many and we were all wide open for new people to invade our most private and precious spaces.

It's different now.

This home will be one of the hardest things to leave once it's time to go. Sure, it's a tiny one bedroom apartment, but it's my first place where I had to struggle with some inconvenient truths, like the fact that there is a whole lot of month when you're in your first job. That sometimes, the best thing you can do is sit on a couch and cry. That painting can be very therapeutic…and so can cooking when it comes out right.

In this apartment, I got a full grasp of the kindness of others. At least 2/3 of the things that are in my apartment were given to me and while the walls may be bare, the love that fills this place does so much more. In this apartment, I've had people come, pour out their hearts and grow close to one another, it's here that I truly learned compassion, it's here that I truly experienced transparency.

It was here that I cried out to God, screamed about life, fought with Him about what I believed and why I was here. Tried to uncover what I truly cared about and what I thought was right. It was here that He met me and taught me so much more about love and acceptance, mercy and faith. It was here that I recommitted, here that I sat and read my Bible and journaled. It was here that I changed.

This small tender space has seen me grow in ways that others couldn't. It's watched me learn how to organize my bills, clean, play guitar, and learn to live without…and to be content in that.

Home sweet home.

In my short 23 years of life, I've been unsure of many things. I wasn't positive that I would be able to do this, but I knew that I didn't have a choice and that when it came down to it, I would have to buck up and face the situations given to me. Moving to Panama City Beach with a laptop, a suitcase full of clothes, and an air mattress was one of the boldest moves of my life. It had one guarantee: an opportunity to follow my dream, but nothing else. It did not promise me friends that would be like family, it didn't promise me happiness, it didn't promise me fulfillment, it promised a chance…so I took it.

And for that Panama City Beach will always have a piece of my heart.

Life comes at you fast

This is me in a state of bliss. No, seriously. I love my job.

You know what insanity is? Realizing that in 5 days, you'll officially be two years out of college, in your dream job, living on the beach. Honestly, it's the best kind of insanity there is out there and every day I sit back and thank God for the blessing of being where I am in life.

I know I talk about how thankful I am for the opportunities I have, how grateful I am for a chance to learn every day at my job, to not be stuck behind a desk 8 hours of the day, but sometimes I really have to let it truly sink in that I have the best job on the planet for me.

However, like I've said in that past, there are some definite downsides to this and one of those downsides came up in the struggle of covering the Boston Marathon bombings.

Breaking news is a big deal in so many ways to people who watch the news but even more so for those that "make" the news. The world we live in is so different than it ever was and I'm still waiting for television news to figure out it's place with the scope of what viewers expect changing so much.

The other day I had a gchat conversation with a friend of mine who said he didn't understand why reporters from CNN didn't get any closer to where police were. Earlier last week, I had another friend comment on how slow television stations were at reporting the facts and how he get most of his information from blogs and Reddit on the tragic situation. Then another friend made her own statements about how the news is potentially putting our police officers in danger for reporting things they're hearing over the scanners and whatnot.

Okay.

First, reporting things heard over the scanners is just a huge no. There's that. There's no if's, and's, or but's about that. Period.

Now that that's out the way, I feel like it's important for my industry to take a step back and look at everything that happened wrong in our coverage. I've learned that as much as I want to be first on a story, it's 1 MILLION TIMES more important to be accurate…but how do we reconcile that in a time when many of our viewers think they're entitled to information?

Well…I have one opinion to the whole thing. Viewers are entitled to one thing and one thing only: facts. As a reporter my job isn't to speculate, it's not to make assumptions about anything, but to investigate and get to the bottom of the issue. There's a reason reporters prefer to get emotional sound bites from people versus facts: we can say the facts, I'm not here to represent my subject's feelings, plain and simple.

You can't compare television news to a blog because, generally speaking, most people spouting things off on the Internet aren't triple checking their sources for accuracy. We aren't one in the same, so - to all my friends asking us to stoop to that level - well, you see how that ends up. To my other friend that suggested we get closer, well…after being told by police for lesser stories to back up from a scene or move further away from a location - for my own safety - I will just say: no.

My job isn't to change my standards for reporting to satisfy the viewer. My job is to get facts from multiple sources...or better yet, get the source saying it on camera to attribute what's being said, that way it doesn't blow up in my face should it be wrong.

If CNN had been right with their exclusive report, everyone would know and everyone would probably move on from it, but because they were wrong, it won't go away so easily; people may not remember who reported it first, but they will remember who reported it wrong.

Choosing your battles

Every day has it's own challenges.

I promise, this is one of the first things that goes through my mind as I type in the code to go into work every single day, that every day has it's separate challenge and they will come in various forms. One day it may be a confrontation with a coworker, the next it could just be a story that doesn't have many visual elements, and other days it's just a lack of motivation…but the most important thing that I have to try and focus on is that each day will have it's own battle so dragging my feelings about former battles rather than picking up the lessons along the way will do nothing to help in the fight.

Breathe in, breathe out.

The beauty of not letting every tiny fight turn into a big one that becomes a burden is simple: you live better. You're happier and have a tendency to be more aware of what's going on around you and what situations to simply avoid.

I have a problem with picking my battles wisely because I have an even more annoying problem with wanting to be right. It's not so much that I want to be right for gloating or to make someone else wrong, but I want to be right because I don't like being in the wrong. I'm almost positive I can find a way to justify any action that I take, and while some days I can be honest and say the action - or lack of action - was because I wasn't didn't do what I should have done, other days, I have a reason…and frankly, my reasons are generally pretty logical, but if there's one thing I've learned from working in news: logic doesn't always win.

Crazy. I know.

Sometimes protocol is more important than anything else and while it may not seem to be the best, it's not the worker bee's call to make. I'm learning more and more every day and it seems that being a worker bee has never been my strong suit, that said I don't think it has to be for me to be successful, I believe being creative is an important asset to have in your back pocket, but when your creativity gets in the way of your productivity, that's never a positive, and then maybe you've got to reevaluate your priorities.

You live and you learn, oh Alanis Morissette, how you do speak the truth on this warm, sunny morning.

P.S. Jagged Little Pill was/is and probably always will be one of my favorite albums and has been since 1995 - let's not talk about a 6 year old singing "All I Really Want" like it's a life anthem.

#Redbox52: The problem with feelings

Ahhh! Happy Monday! I hope that everyone's week is going well. Normally, Monday is my day off, but now that we have a couple people that have moved on to new television stations (one to Fort Myers, the other to Orlando - gonna miss 'em so much!) things have gotten a bit shaken up. Not to worry though, I'm working better than ever and happier in the past few weeks than I've been in a long time.

So, onto this week's #Redbox52, Killing The Softly:

First thoughts: good movie - a taaaad bit violent, but since I don't mind violence, it's alright by me. I can definitely say the best thing about this movie is the intentional use of news footage from the financial crisis of 2008 - it was literally brilliant. 

Or maybe I'm so used to movies just doing their own thing that when I see something done well, it just blows me away.

Anyway, it was a lot of fun to watch. The clips that were used were always placed against a scene that directly related to what was being said, I love that.

There was a lot of interesting dialogue in the movie and for some people that was a setback, but there were a few interactions that really got me going, one in particular was between Driver (Richard Jenkins) who works with the mafia as a middle man of sorts and Jackie Cogan (Brad Pitt) who is a hitman.

They're discussing a hit that needs to be made and Cogan goes into why he doesn't want to hit a particular target and gives a better understanding of the title of the movie.

"I like to kill them softly, from a distance, not close enough for feelings. Don't like feelings. Don't want to think about them."

It caught me off guard a bit once I understood what killing someone "softly" actually meant. After thinking it over, it brought to mind various interactions I had in the past with people on social networks, from Tumblr to Twitter, one of the great things was that you're able to make a connection with people, getting a glimpse into whatever parts of their life they're willing to expose.

The downside, of course, is that depending on what you put out there, you also are opening yourself up to a lot of criticism. In fact, I would go off on a limb and say that most interactions online whether it's commentary on a show or on an event happening in someone's life, what a celebrity is wearing or something happening in the news, since we don't directly know the people we can say whatever we want to, often without feeling any sort of remorse.

As someone who works in the news industry, one of my biggest fears is that one day, I will stop being able to relate to people, that I will eventually get desensitized to it all. Just yesterday I did a story about a 7-year-old who was mauled by 2 pitbull mix breeds that died and another story on a 90-year-old man who was murdered. A former coworker of mine once told me that one of the things that haunts him is the fact that when he would drive around town, the first thing he would remember is the stories he had done.

I drove around town a few weeks ago and realized, I was the same way. On one corner, a homeless person was found dead, on another, a manhunt for a robber that had guns and was taken down by dogs. It breaks my heart a little bit to think about how in just a matter of 1 year, I covered 3 or 4 stories about teenagers dying behind the wheel, far too many memorial services for young people who hadn't even gotten a chance to get to college, to live their lives to what we considered a full extent.

It hurts. On one hand, as a reporter, I don't want to relate, I don't want to have feelings about my stories because God knows they would haunt me...but on the other, to not have some sort of feeling about it all would make me less than a human. I don't know how reporters in the field, covering wars, genocide, sex slavery - it's one thing to do a long form documentary on it, but in news, it's often that you cover something for a day or two and then it's on to the next thing, no follow up, no seeing how things go later in life. It's a hard balance because if we stayed on one thing too long, the sad truth, is that most people wouldn't care...and I think that's probably what hurts the most.

#6wordpoems: there is beauty in being succinct

Last night, writer/poet/rapper/producer/teacher/amaze-balls-man (my personal opinion) Rafael Casal issued a challenge to his followers on Twitter and friends on Facebook and Instagram.

Write a 6 word poem.

Some people wrote phrases, made jokes, others really got to the heart of things. I decided I wanted to contribute as well.

"I am where He wants me." That was my 6 word poem and as I hit send it struck me how meaningful that phrase was to my life because it wasn't just a few words that made a good little poem, but it was a mentality that would be able to hold me afloat until it's time to move on to the next thing.

I am where He wants me.

The first time I heard the phrase was from my grandfather, it stuck with me. The idea that while I may not be completely happy with where I am, there was a reason that I wasn't moving, there was something I was supposed to be getting out of this. 

Graduating from college and not getting a job that I wanted for 9 months was a struggle for me. I debated quitting, going back into retail, or switching from a position in front of the camera to one behind it - and truthfully there was nothing wrong with any of those options had I ended up going with them, but there was a reason that I had to take some time to get to where I wanted while some of my friends seemed to get scooped up into their dream jobs much faster than I ever dreamed.

I am where He wants me.

It's a hard phrase to really live out sometimes. It's something I've gotten into the habit of saying whenever I get anxious about where I am or start to feel some pangs of jealousy that I'm not at my next thing yet. I've always been a bit preoccupied with my future and this phrase forces me to stop trying to envision what it is to come and focus on where I am now.

One of my close friends and I were having a conversation recently and he brought up being unhappy at his job - however, he wasn't unhappy because the job itself was bad, he was unhappy because of the attitude of his coworkers and management:

It's so metric driven and everyone is working for the next role, not to make sure the role they are in now is self-sustaining.

It was an interesting observation in a field that was completely the opposite of my own though we faced the same problems. It made me wonder what would happen if everyone stopped and made the decision to be the best at their current position, understanding that once they mastered it, they would have the ability to move on to something new, but in that moment, in that day, in that month, in that year - focus on doing the best they possibly could with what they had right then.

It really was a way of mastering the phrase in my work place. Now, I'm learning - slowly but surely - to live out this 6 word poem in every part of my life.

What are some 6 word poems, or really any phrases, that you found are good to live by? Leave 'em here!

A wrap up.

A few captures from my 365 so far... :)

Ahhh, it's Friday! What a lovely week it has been.

After spending a grand total of probably 32 hours (at the most) with DP, taking pictures, listening to music, enjoying life, and not really enjoying Korean food (sorry, girl) - I was rejuvenated and ready to come back to reality. SIGH.

Thankfully, my reality has been pretty sweet as of late. Work has been good, my friendships have been solid, and I have a lot to look forward to in general.

I had the pleasure of having a fantastic Valentine's Day date with a great guy who also sent a box of chocolate covered strawberries to my job.

Let's just say - I've never had anything like this happen to me, so it was such a treat!

We went out to a fantastic restaurant, got some great food, then ate the rest of the chocolate covered strawberries (they were SO big, I couldn't eat them all at work!) and drank champagne while watching Scandal.

Truly, a great night indeed.

It's the little things that mean so much though. Honestly, coming back to the newsroom from a live shot (that went amazingly well at that) to a box at my desk with some sweet treats inside was the proverbial icing on the cake for a perfect day - and it was a perfect day that was just one of many high points for the week.

I can only hope that next week holds so much promise! But even if it doesn't, I will savor all the great moments of this week and appreciate my friends, loved ones, and even those that I don't love so much for all they mean to me and the impact they've had on my life.

DP being sassy, but classy at Big Spring Park.

Some jugglers...just juggling...

Me being a creep...per usual.

"Laissez les bon temps rouler!" @ Millies in PC

Cheers to the freakin' weekend!

Working hard, hardly working...

Preparing to leave the house on a boat - thankful I wore a dress.

Every now and then I have to admit, I have an awesome job.

It's not like you have to drag it out of me, I adore what I do, it's literally everything I've wanted for at least a decade, probably (as in definitely) longer.

Saturday, I had the pleasure of enjoying free and fantastic food, meet some awesome people, and ride a boat that was a house.

Obviously, every day isn't that busy, but if there is one thing that keeps me coming back to my job, it's the knowledge that I'm going to be doing something different, learning something new, every freaking day.

I mean...how awesome is that?

Some people are happy to stick with an office job, they like the comfort of having a job with specific hours and great pay, don't get me wrong, there are moments I'm jealous. I would love to be able to go to a class at the gym right after work at 5:30, I would love to be making considerably more than I'm making - I won't divulge, just know that one of my friends says I "work for peanuts" and another refers to my occupation, lovingly, as "slave labor" - but this is one of those jobs that I absolutely love.

I'm paid to tell stories.
I'm paid to go on adventures.
I'm paid to ask questions.
I'm paid to write.
I'm paid to read.
I'm paid to follow my dreams.

It really doesn't get much better than that.

Unexpected surprises

I've never known much about my parent's relationship - I never asked too many questions. I know my mother had me in college, that my biological father, E, wasn't ready and that she raised me in an amazing fashion. I know that at some point she says she was thinking about what she wanted from a man and determined that my dad, A, was the best fit...and he told her she would have to wait. He was going through flight school and she agreed.

And now they're married.

And absolutely in love with each other.

For years A said he would never get a facebook account, he felt it was invasive and that people who had them just shared too much information, but as my mother and younger sister hopped on board, eventually he felt the pressure and caved in.

Now I'm seeing a side of my dad I've never seen before.

To be clear, it's not that my dad isn't romantic or that he lacked affection in the past, I just never was around to see it. But after being on facebook less than a week, I'm seeing things I never saw before.

For example, up until ...maybe a couple...oh...hours ago I never saw my dad smile for a picture with his teeth showing. Ever.

Tonight, my father is taking my mother out on a date. I know this because he posted about it on Facebook. My dad. Smiling. On Facebook. Bragging about how he's going on a date with his wife.

I was floored.

I'm not sure why this caught me by surprise, maybe because I'm not accustomed to my dad being so showy about love or maybe it's just because when I think about my parents the only dynamic that comes to mind is football season: my mom's an Eagles fan, my dad's a Cowboy's fan - it would suffice to say it gets ugly.

That being said, I love being able to see it. I love being surprised by the things my parents and friends do to make others know they are appreciated and loved.

So, today...don't take someone for granted. Love them, hug them, tell them you care...not because tomorrow they might be gone, but because they matter to you in that moment.

Life As Usual

The past year has been quite the journey.

December 9, 2011, I sent the email that would change my life and begin my career as a reporter. Since then, I've packed up my car, moved to a new city, met amazing people, challenged myself emotionally, spiritually, physically and financially while pushing myself to new boundaries mentally.

It has been tiring, exhilarating, hilarious and amazing...and now I'm sitting here waiting for what comes next. I know in my heart that this month has a lot in store for me, there is the potential for a lot of change to occur in the next 3 weeks and I'm terrified but absolutely looking forward to what it could mean.

--------------------------------

I've had the nickname "Gimpy" for the past week after spraining my ankle and busting up my knee while going for a run (I wish I had a better story for my injuries, but alas, it was not meant to be) last Saturday. This comes at the heels of a possible move to a new opportunity - ie. the worst possible time to ever be injured. In addition to that, having a job that requires lugging around a camera and a tripod means that being on crutches is out the question if I intend to actually make any money, so it goes without saying that this week has been interesting, especially when fueled by pain medication.

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I've recently been paying more attention to the emails I receive, especially from Danielle LaPorte. Recently she launched this thing called The Desire Map. I went to her site to read up on it a bit more and saw this:

What if, first, we got clear on how we actually wanted to feel in our life, and then we laid out our intentions? What if your most desired feelings consciously informed how you plan your day, your year, your career, your holidays - your life?

It got me thinking. Danielle's email talked about how she stopped pursuing goals and started pursuing her feelings - something that was recently plaguing my own mind. I've been feeling unfulfilled though I know I'm doing something that I've wanted all my life. On Facebook, I put up a status quoting Alain de Botton from an article on BrainPickings:

We suck in messages from everything from the television to advertising to marketing, etcetera. These are hugely powerful forces that define what we want and how we view ourselves. What I want to argue is not the we should give up on our ideas of success but that we should make sure that they are our own. We should focus in on our ideas and make sure that we own them, that we're truly the authors of our own ambitions. Because it's bad enough not getting what you want, but it's even worse to have an idea of what it is you want and find out at the end of the journey that it isn't, in fact, what you wanted all along.

It's odd how other people's words can really click with what's going on in your own mind, so I've decided to pursue my feelings fully, to pay attention to what it is that I really, truly want and then do what gives me that. What do I want to feel? It's not enough to say I want to be happy, what does happiness look like to me? What do I do that makes me feel complete? What do I do that makes me laugh, enjoy life - those are the things worth pursuing.

Giving makes me feel good, reading, watching movies, learning new songs, eating healthy, working out, talking to people about their own lives - all things that make me happy and all things that I can do. Even in my career as a reporter, I can use that as an avenue to give to people, to learn about them and help them move forward.

These messages were like a divine intervention that said, your passion doesn't have to exclude what you do in your day to day life - they can match.

Now comes the fun part of making it happen.

Choosing Happiness

I haven't written here in a month.

There's a reason for that. I'm sure of it, but at this point trying to find the words that actually go along with that reason is a task that is far beyond my ability.

The past month has been a whirlwind of emotions and after last night's debacle, I knew that it was time for me to get back to what I knew best--writing it out. Taking time to reflect on all the mistakes that were made over the course of the past month and just...figure out the next step.

See, for me writing isn't just a form of letting ideas out, it is my form of therapy. I stopped writing at one point and thought that I would be fine, but for someone like myself who has a tendency to obsess over the past, having a written record is really the best thing to possess to avoid mentally recreating things that just...aren't real.

When I logged into my blog to write this post, sitting at the top of the list was an empty draft for a post titled Choosing Happiness...precisely what I needed to see and what I need to do. The past 48 hours have been nothing but me moping around on the brink of emotional breakdown because of doing what I have always done: be an impetuous, hopeful romantic...and because of that choice, I had found myself drowning in a sea of stupid, negative thoughts that I just couldn't seem to get out of.

Enter Mr. Flowers from stage left...

Not to romanticize my friends, but talk about a knight in shining armor. Armed with a hook (emblazoned with the words common sense on its side) he grabbed me out of this disgusting pool of self pity by talking to me and helping me see things from a different perspective. While there was much talk of me putting on my "big girl pants" there was also some deeper talk that was necessary beyond his own knowledge, I'm sure.

Bottom line: Sometimes you need someone to remind you why you need to choose happiness and why you deserve happiness.

Moving forward...today I am choosing happiness and every day from here on out I will do the same. I will wake up and make an active choice, a real decision, to choose to be happy, to appreciate my unique experiences here--the good, the bad, and the atrocious, because ugly simply doesn't give it justice. While I may never drop my impetuous ways, I certainly know where I can allow them to prosper and breathe and where I will put them on the back burner for the sake of my own sanity.

Today, I choose happiness...I will make today the best September 30, 2012 it could possibly be...because you don't get to do it over, you just have to live with what you're given and make the most of every single opportunity that you've been afforded.

The Art of Letting Go

Proverbs 29:25 Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is kept safe.

When it comes down to the scariest thing about Christianity, it is--for me--trusting God.

More so than cutting off certain things from my life, more than any limitations that some say my beliefs may thrust on me, the scariest thing is trusting God.

I have an incredibly hard time fully trusting people that I can see, so you can imagine the aggravation of trusting something that I cannot physically see in front of me. Is God good? Yes, he would never do anything to hurt me that wasn't for my greater good-I've dealt with enough shaky situations to say that I can go along with this thinking. Do I believe that God has all control over everything? That he really and truly has his eye on everything happening in the world? Absolutely.

Do some people think I'm ridiculous for thinking that? Of course, but that's them.

The problem I have with trusting God is my desire to have control. I know that I can't control everything in my life, but if I could just get this situation fixed on my own terms, in my own way, I'd be happier. In a way, it's a snub at God. It's me saying, God I know you said you'd do this a certain way, in your time and that things would work out for my good--but I'm sure that my way is better. My way will get me where I want to be faster and it will be more fun or more economical or just have a better outcome for me in general.

What I've found is that I've been wrong. I've found that in the situations where I grab the reins and try to take control sometimes work out fine, but they could have been better. My pride gets in the way, my impatience gets in the way, my anger, my emotions--all of them get in the way of me doing or getting the best thing possible.

Whether it is for my career, my romantic life, my family situations, my friendships, if I try to manipulate them to work in my favor, things tend to go sour.

I'm still learning what it means to let go of a situation and let God take control of it. There is no handbook for "laying something down at the foot of the cross"...there's this idea of what it means though. To pray about it, to wait for some sort of confirmation, to read the Bible, to get people that have the same priorities thoughts on it, but when do you stop worrying? When do the thoughts come to a still? Is that the point where you know you've given it to God? If so, where does it start?

It's a difficult situation. How do you let the cards fall where they may? What does giving something to God really look like? Does it mean I don't care about it anymore? Does it mean I sit back and just...ride it out?

It's a complicated situation and I look forward to getting the answers.

On Growing Up & Being Present

Monday was my Little One's first day of high school…I'm still not sure how I feel about it. My sister and I have 8 years between us and I think the scariest part of having that big of a gap between us is my constant thinking of her as the little one. 

If you compare the two of us, we're remarkably different. Growing up, I naturally excelled at my academics and was considered a social butterfly. My sister didn't have those same qualities.

I guess I attribute my attitude towards learning and towards social activity to how I was raised. I was used to moving a lot, being forced to shift according to my new circles of friends from a young age, I never complained about it. I would find my escape in reading, I hated going outside.

The Little One though, she loves being outside. Loves playing sports, loves sweating, but didn't have the same love of reading until recently. In fact it wasn't until the past year or so that she realized that life was much easier if she took the time to do her homework. Socially speaking, she has struggled, but is finally coming into her own and I am so proud.

I spoke to her on the phone after her first day ready to get the run down, to come to her aid, offer encouragement if she needed it, but instead I was greeted with something very different.

"Aren't you excited that your little sister is growing up?"

Honestly, I wasn't. Hearing those words actually caused my eyes to water a bit. It was a reminder that she was going to grow up, that she was going to get her heart broken by some idiot at some point, that one day she will lose her virginity, that one day she will get drunk, and one day she might get high and I won't know what to do, how to comfort her, what I should do.

I think of the relationship that I have with my older sister. Calling her that fateful day in tears, crying because I knew I had made the wrong choice…and having her be there for me. I remember days out with her in New York, getting drinks, having fun, dancing around and loving being around her and I worry that Little One and I might not have as close of a relationship as we should.

I'm not ready for her to grow up.
I'm not ready for her to get hurt.
I'm not ready for her to drive my car.
I'm not ready for her to go to prom in a gown.

I'm not ready for life to happen like this, I'm just getting accustomed to being on my own, the thought of her being on her own in just a few years scares me. I'm not excited that my little sister is growing up, and I told her. I told her that she was going to make me cry and she laughed nervously and apologized, then remarked smartly, "…but you know I'm always going to be a little kid to you. I mean, that's what happens when there's 8 years between two sisters."

And in that moment everything was okay…but just for that moment. My little, precious, annoying, ridiculous sister is growing up. She is officially a high school student with semesters instead of a year round schedule. She's taking courses that deal with career management and algebra and science and business and I'm too far away to guide her through all the trials and tribulations of those hallways.

What can I do from 11 hours away? What happens when my family moves farther away? What about when I move? And then it hits me right in the face: the same things my big sister did.

Be there. If not physically, through prayer, through conversation. When she calls, answer. When she texts, respond. If she emails, write back. All I can do is be there.

Friday Photo: On Finding Your Personal Heaven

Whenever I'm seeking peace, whenever I need to take the time to look around me and feel peace despite whatever I'm going through, I go to the beach.

I've been blessed to work in paradise. I mean, there's no other way to describe where I live, work and play. I'm constantly driving between Panama City Beach, Destin, Port St. Joe, Mexico Beach, Apalachicola…a bunch of places that are all within an hour or so from me and they all have their own little bits of heaven in them.

I can say without a doubt that I feel closest to God when I'm by the ocean. There's something about how huge it is. I mean…it goes on forever, no matter where you're standing, even when you reach a coast, all you have to do is turn around and see that you're completely surrounded by water.

Those thoughts always knock me right back down to size when I start to feel a little bit too self-righteous. I just look around and it's an instant slap in the face of how humble I should be when I consider just how amazing and awesome everything else is.

"Each one has to find his peace from within. And peace to be real must be unaffected by outside circumstances." -Mahatma Gandhi

There's no profound nature to this picture, it just captures the essence of what I need. I was driving to story to watch a sea turtle be released in Port St. Joe and I couldn't stop being staring out my window (obviously not my smartest/safest choice…but that's neither here nor there).

Eventually I pulled over so I could take a picture of what I saw. It was the perfect capture of everlasting peace. There's something about the sound of water lapping at your feet, a slight breeze to your face that rustles your hair and the overwhelming silence of distractions. No computers, no chattering people, no pings from iNews, no yelling…just quiet.

My personal heaven.

Illusions of Grandeur

"My refusal to settle for something lesser but more immediate is, to say the least, a huge inconvenience for me right now. But I have to believe what I'm working toward will be worth it in the end." - Amy

I had to let those words resonate this morning…and really every morning for the past few weeks.

I must say I am incredibly grateful for the people God has placed in my life over the past month. I know in my heart that these individuals will be the ones that I truly consider my friends while I spend my time here in Panama City Beach. I have found people that I have things in common with from our career goals to our experiences in life--and it's great to have someone who can relate.

I never thought that I'd be married in my early 20s. Growing up, I told myself, even in middle school, that I would start my career and that I wouldn't be willing to settle down and get married until I had my own life figured out; that I wouldn't let my life end up being completely dominated by some love interest who may be amazing, but would strip me of my ability to create the life I want because I would need to pack up and move to be with him should his position change.

Listen. I grew up in a military family and didn't go to the same school 2 years in a row until I got to high school…my view of things is a tad bit different than others my age.

That being said, as I've grown older, I have found myself wanting to compromise on this.

Maybe it's the incredible amount of friends that are in serious relationships--and by serious I don't mean oh they've been dating awhile, I mean, oh they're engaged.

I feel a bit behind the learning curve on relationships. In my 23 years, I've never had a long term relationship, I don't believe I've ever truly been in love though I can say that I've been dragged around in the dregs of infatuation and lust. I'm not upset about this. It's just been a learning experience. By this time in their lives, my older sister, mother, grandmother and plenty other women in my family already knew who their final mate would be and while I know my personal life has been a different kind of beast than their own, it does cause me to look inside myself to try and figure out just where I went wrong on an emotional conquest.

While Amy's quote probably had little to do with love or relationships, as I've cycled through the motions in the past year and 4 months since graduating from college, I find myself thinking about what it is that I want. I find it funny that I can hold this mentality so strongly when it comes to my career or things that I know I can negotiate and change without the help of others, but it's when you throw in the kink that makes a situation dependent on a second party things tend to get messy. Do I want to settle for something now although I know in my heart that there is something greater out there for me? Do I have the patience necessary to make it to that greater thing? Or will jealousy and desire consume me and cause me to settle for something I don't want out of desperation?

From Prison, With Love

In case you wanted to read the letter from my inmate in it's entirety, here it is. I am typing this letter precisely as it is in front of me. All spelling, punctuation, everything is all him. Please remember: this letter is long.

August 12, 2012

Dear Ms. Arnold,

First and foremost…in bringing the writing of this missive for your consideration this writer does so with all due respect and genuine intention, thereby harboring hope that you will not consider this letter an irritant or insolent imposition. Undoubtedly, receiving correspondence from an incarcerated person is utterly and completely foreign to you. Nonetheless, in receiving this letter from an incarcerated person, there is absolutely no reason to even remotely entertain fear, alarm, apprehension, or an avalanche of concern. I am not some predatory threat or evil lurking on the horizon, not by any stretch of the imagination could this writer be any kind of threat to you or anyone else.

When Wishes Come True

Ahh, the phrase "be careful what you wish for," has never been more true.

Women often fantasize about receiving a letter in the mail from a lover, an admirer from afar, proclaiming their undying affection for them. Many times, people say that my generation is one that has lost the zeal of written word, that we--as a group--have been sucked dry when it comes to our ability to hold conversations that don't involve character limits.

Frankly, I'm inclined to agree that many people in my generation have stopped long form writing, however, I would say that it has taught us--well…some of us--the importance of being concise in our manner of speaking.

Facts matter. Details, sure. But once things start getting long and flowery, it's time to chop it up.

That's my news side taking over as well…BUT back to the whole letter thing.

August 14th started like any other day…oh, how it changed once I arrived at the station to find this gem waiting for me.

Yes…I, Ashley received a 4 page letter from an admirer. In fact, I wouldn't call it a letter, he referred to it as a MISSIVE. Yes ma'ams and sirs. A missive. 

He would go on to tell me how beautiful I am, that my eyes are mesmerizing, that seeing me on his television screen causes his blood to become the place the gods must have gone before they found fire.

YES.

I have what seems to be a stalker. 

However, like any good stalker/admirer/fantasizer, there are limitations to our conversations. The biggest limitation? The fact that he is incarcerated and will be in prison until November 2013. At which point, I should be far, far away from Panama City Beach, FL. 

And yes, I do plan on writing back. I mean, that's the right thing to do, especially considering the final page which illustrated all the reasons that my not writing back would be ignorant on my part and the disclaimer at the beginning of the letter (2 paragraphs) that explained why I have no reason to be alarmed that I was getting a letter from a man in prison who has only seen me on a television screen.

Oh, life. You truly are stranger than any fictional movie I could put together. Thanks for that.