The REAL World

The real world has not always been kind to me. It pokes, it prods, and it sees you as those around you want to see you. It tells you that you're beautiful and then makes you think otherwise. Like you have to be 5' 9" and 95 pounds to be beautiful. Or that you're only amazing when you're rich or famous.I am not famous for anything. Everyone in the world does not know my name, and yet I feel like there are those days when I am amazing and beautiful. But it seems as though that only lasts for a little while and sometimes I just wish that the rest of the world would see me for who I am. That it would look past my flaws and see the person underneath. That it would understand that, yeah I did not always have it easy. That I worked hard to be the person that I am today. It tries to pressure you into doing things that you KNOW you shouldn't do, but yet you follow them and the example the world sets you just need to be you to be truly happy. :)

Writing

I love writing and I always have a lot of fun doing it and now I am writing a book. Whoop! Yes this is just a random post cause I like this picture

Embarrassment

Everyone's been embarrassed at one time or another

I am about to tell you a story, NO ONE can learn of this and you MUST NOT speak of it.

I remember the time I got the flu mist and I freaked out and, well.... here it goes. Although the way my Mom tells it makes it sound worse than it was.

       I stood in line waiting to get the flu mist relatively calm. Then it was my turn, I got the mist but since I had a cold my nose was stuffed. I walked out of the room fine and then I was walking down the hall (they did it at the high school) and then my vision started to go black, I told my mom that I couldn't see and that I was blind and she didn't believe me. I kept walking, seeing nothing, and then they had windowed walls on either side of the door to go down the other hall and I ran into the left one and landed flat on my back. Then my head smacked against the floor and my sight returned. My mom and siblings then proceeded to laugh at me even though they couldn't tell how much I was hurt, both in body and mind. I walked the rest of the way to the car with my head down silent tears streaming down my face. Then we got into the car and my mom started yelling at me to get a sense of humor because it was funny. 

       I didn't think it was funny and to this day I still can't sit there when my family jokes about it without getting upset. There are times when my mom and the rest of my family doesn't understand that it hurt my feelings and they don't know when to stop. So.... DO NOT SPEAK ABOUT THIS EVER!!!!!!