I am afraid.

I fear the unknown.
I fear the undiscovered.

I fear loneliness.
I fear commitment.

I fear love.
I fear hatred.

I fear the future.
I fear the present.

I fear disappointment.
I fear success.

Spiders, ants, snakes, clowns, dentists, abandonment, being wrong, being right, tornadoes, lady bugs, costumes, failure, strength, ghosts, disease, death, frogs, closets, life, God, fire, power, weakness.

.....

One way to get over our fears is to face them, head on. I have a busy 2014 waiting for me.

Wish me luck. 

Peace,
Morgan

P.S. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, and Happy Kwanza to all.

Are pit bulls dangerous?

How can a face like this be banned from many
cities across the country? IT'S SO CUTE! 

The owner of several pit bulls that mauled a woman to death in California was charged with murder and animal owner negligence earlier this year. This is exactly the way the authorities should deal with a horrific attack by dogs where there is evidence, as there was in this case, that the owner may have ignored or encouraged his dogs’ aggressive behavior or failed to adequately secure them. When owners of dogs that have attacked people are found to have been negligent, they should be held strictly accountable.

Pit bulls are perhaps the most controversial dogs in the country. During the past half century, the pit bull has gone from America’s dog to America’s most feared dog. The pit is now regarded as a killing machine, and the breed is even banned in some cities.

During these past several months, it seemed like you heard about a pit bull attack on every news station.

The fear of the pit bull is understandable. The breed accounts for twice as many reported dog bites as any other breed, and also accounts for the majority of dogs that animal control hauls into court lockup. A woman in Waterloo was attacked by three pit bulls while walking down the street and was almost killed in September. A teenage boy and a woman were injured in a pit bull attack in August.

These types of stories keep appearing in the news and they strike a fear in people. I obviously feel terrible for anyone injured by a dog. I have never owned a pit bull, but I have been around dogs most of my life, both big and small. I believe there is a stigma around pit bulls and it’s simply not fair. Any dog can be dangerous, and I think it all boils down to the owner.

We know that animal behavior is a combination of nature (genetics) and nurture (learning). We know that genetics play a part in what people call “breed specific behaviors.” Studies have shown that an estimated 20 to 30 percent of a dog’s behavior is based on genetics, and that leaves a huge area that nurture is responsible for. If socialization is so important, what can happen when a pit bull is isolated and neglected, or even abused? What about dogs that are left outside all day on a chain with no social interaction? How can anyone expect them not to be aggressive toward any human or animal when they haven’t been socialized or trained in any sort of way?

The real problem isn’t the breed, it’s the breed’s reputation. A reputation as a tough dog attracts owners who train their dogs to be aggressive, which then attracts media attention when these aggressive dogs attack, creating, literally, a vicious cycle. Doberman pinschers, German shepards and rottweilers have all suffered this fate. The American Kennel Club describes each of these breeds as a protective and loyal family pet that requires lots of exercise. Its description of pit bulls is no different, but the trend for pit bulls’ dangerous reputation has lasted longer.

In my research I found that pit bulls were originally bred to fight. They were genetically selected for their fighting ability. I also found that history doesn’t mean they can’t be around other dogs or people, that they’re unpredictably aggressive or will always fight to the death. It means that they may be easily encouraged to fight.

The best way to prevent the development of aggressive behavior toward other dogs and people is to focus on early socialization, learning to interact, play and communicate with members of their own species and other people.

Despite their bad rap, a well-bred, well-trained, well-socialized pit bull is one of the most delightful, intelligent and gentle dogs. They are known for their extreme loyalty toward their owner. I’ve known some wonderful pit bulls. They’re dogs that are capable of doing a lot of good and can be wonderful pets. Some pit bulls are registered therapy dogs and spend time visiting hospitals, some work in search and rescue. They can be the most loving, loyal and friendly dog when they are raised and trained correctly.

Due to their aggressive reputation, pit bulls have been banned in many cities, including Fredericksburg, which bans “dangerous dogs” from city limits. Their definition of “dangerous dogs” includes any dog with a propensity, tendency or disposition to attack, to cause injury to or otherwise endanger the safety of humans or domestic animals; the bull terrier breed of dog; the Staffordshire bull terrier; the American pit bull and the American Staffordshire terrier.

I understand both sides of a pit bull banning ordinance. Taking pit bulls away from these dangerous, negligent owners will reduce the number of serious maulings. I just don’t think it’s fair to blame the breed when most of the time, it’s the owners fault. If you investigated the owners of those dogs involved in attacks these last few months, I think you’d find negligent, abusive owners, or those that trained the dog to be aggressive.

The biggest problem with breed bans is that they distract from the more effective solutions. I believe there should be more action involving the laws and penalties imposed on owners of dangerous animals, no matter the breed. The owners that fail to socialize and train their dogs and contain them don’t pay a high enough penalty when those dogs get loose and bite.

A ban on pit bulls would obviously lessen the number of pit attacks, but wouldn’t necessarily decrease the overall number of dog bites or attacks. Pit bulls aren’t the only dogs that bite. There are other dogs out there, of all shapes and sizes, that bite. It’s not fair to single out the pit bull because of their reputation.

The pit bull is just like any other breed of dog. Yes, it was originally bred to fight, but with the right owners who care about the dog and will socialize and train it properly, pit bulls can thrive and be a great family dog. I don’t find it fair to single out the pit bull, despite the media attention. They’re not naturally vicious and dangerous. It’s abusive, negligent owners that create vicious, dangerous dogs. 

I love Harry Potter

These people became like dear friends to me.
The person that created them became my role model.

"Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors and the most patient of teachers." – Charles William Eliot

I’ve loved reading books for as long as I can remember. As a child with a very active imagination, books allowed me the opportunity to let it run free and imagine worlds full of dungeons and dragons, princes and princesses and witches and magic. The library became almost like a treasure hunt, searching every row and every book before discovering just the right one to read. The most exciting part was when I would come across a new book that I could immerse myself into and imagine all the possible adventures I could have.

My parents were often shocked at how much I loved to read. They still don’t know where the habit came from, but they never discouraged it and I thank them for that. They always bought me new books when I asked (which my siblings would say because I was the spoiled baby of the family and they couldn’t say no to me), and my bookshelves were full of books like The BFG by Ronald Dahl, The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Jester, the works of Beverly Clearly, Louis Sachar and Shel Silverstein, The Babysitter’s Club and Goosebump books and many more. Now, I have way too many books to count - just ask the people who have helped me move boxes and boxes of books up many flights of stairs during my college years. It wasn’t pretty.

My love for reading really took off in the sixth grade when my mom bought me a book that I still have and will always cherish – Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. I have the exact copy she bought me sitting on my book shelf now, along with the other well-worn copies of books two through seven. It has seen better days – the spine is creased, pages are dog-eared and the cover is bent, but I love it all the same and there’s nothing that could make me get rid of it. It came out the summer between my fifth- and sixth-grade year and I wasn’t sure I wanted to read it. I thought, it’s a book about a boy who is a wizard? Sounds kind of dumb. So I kept it in my desk, which was a bad decision because my desk was ALWAYS a mess, and it floated around in there all year and I forgot about it. One day, while we were being forced to clean our desks, I put that book on top of the pile of things I wanted to take home and the boy in the desk next to me asked me if I had read it yet. “No,” I answered. “I don’t think I want to read it. It sounds weird.” We had become friends with our mutual love of reading books, and I can distinctly remember the look on his face when I told him that. “Morgan, you have to read that book.” I looked at it again and thought, well – okay then.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” From that first line, I was hooked. I have always been a fast reader and I think I finished that book in a few days. My mom told me that I just didn’t know when to put it down and would read way past my bedtime. “You still don’t know when to put a book down!” That’s true, Mom, I don’t. Anyway, I read it extremely fast and couldn’t wait until the next one was released. I didn’t have to wait long, though, because it come out the summer of 1999. I gobbled up The Chamber of Secrets in just a few days, and Prisoner of Azkaban came out September of that same year. It’s been like an addiction ever since. I was one of those people waiting at midnight to buy the book, or I would drag someone (who could drive) along with me the very next day to pick up the newest installment of the amazing series. Throughout the years, the books grew exponentially bigger and I just kept reading them. I couldn’t wait to find out what happened to Harry and his friends and his beloved Hogwarts, a place I desperately wished I could visit.

When the last one came out July 21, 2007, I was going to be a freshman in college. I had been following these characters and their lives since I was 12-years old. Then finally, at the age of 19, it was coming to an end and I was sad. Sure, there were movies still to be made, but it wasn’t the same. When I picked up my copy of The Deathly Hallows, I didn’t want to start it. If I started it, I wouldn’t be able to stop and I would finish it and it would be over. Done. I did finish it in four days, all 759 pages of it. When I turned that last page, a big part of my life was over. It was like saying goodbye to some of my dearest friends.

Harry Potter is more than just a book series to me. I believe it is a powerful, adventurous and meaningful story that has had large impact on many people. I would like to believe that I would have continued with my love of reading if J.K. Rowling had never written a single page about Harry, but it’s something I never had to worry about. Reading that first book kept my love of reading ignited like a flame, one that I hope is never distinguished. Rowling also taught me to love writing. Without her, I don’t think I would have pursued it the way I have today. I just loved the way she created this beautiful, fantastical world with just her imagination, a pen and paper. She made these amazing characters that people love and admire and care about, and I think that’s pretty amazing. She’s inspired me to do the same. She also taught me to not be afraid of your imagination.

There is a moral to be found in every book and in every chapter. What I love most about the Harry Potter series is that it is great for children and adults alike. "Do you want your 11-year-old to start out reading Deathly Hallows? Of course not. Can they handle Sorcerer’s Stone? You better believe it. As they start to discover each novel as they get older the books become tailor made for them. The language never gets too complicated, yet it is still very well written. What if you’re older and want to get into the series? Does the first one still work? Of course it does. Harry Potter is one of the few things in life that is able to speak to multiple generations at the same time. The world of Harry Potter and as such, the world through Rowling’s eyes, values bravery, intelligence, loyalty and trust. The characters treat friends and families with respect, and in the end, the good triumph over the evil. Of course, there can be many losses along the way, but such is life. People can also change for the better and/or worse, but in the end you have to forgive them. You can learn a lot from Harry Potter; it's not just wand waving and spells." (I wish I could remember where I found that, but I can't. Those words are not mine)

To those that love Harry Potter, just like me, we know the magic will never leave us. He’ll never be gone completely. Yes, I have all seven books lined up on my bookshelf and all eight movies, but it’s the lessons that Rowling and Harry have taught us that stick with us. Harry Potter will live on in all of us…always.

I’ll leave you with two of my utmost favorite quotes from the entire series: 

“The world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters. We have all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the power we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.” -Sirius Black

“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times when one only remembers to turn on the light.” – Albus Dumbledore.

 

 

 

My personal statement... sort of.

I recently read a friend of mine's personal statement that was required for the master's program she's applying for and it got me thinking. She wanted me to critique it for her, so I did. She's applying to study at John Hopkins to get her masters in Nonprofit management. She works at a museum and loves it - she creates programs and things that help people learn to love the museum without having facts and education shoved down their throats - making the museum fun.

One of the suggestions I wrote back to her was:

"If I were an admissions person looking through hundreds if not thousands of personal statements, I would be looking for one that stood out. I'd be looking for a person that showed passion and commitment to their field. I would want to know the exact moment you knew you wanted to work in museums, why you wanted to study ancient civilization. What sparked it? Just try to make your statement different and personalize it to fit the amazing person that I know you are."

That got me thinking about me, yes as selfish as that sounds. I've thought about pursuing a master's degree, in what I don't know yet, but would be involved with writing somehow, or with books in general. I lerve books. What would my personal statement be? How would I describe the moment that I knew I wanted to write for a living? That I wanted to "touch people with the written word" and do my best to express my feelings through those written words than through speaking.

My grandmother likes to tell people this fun story about when I was little, I could carry around a notebook and a pen and ask all my relatives questions at whatever family gathering we would have.

I would write their answers down, in my beautifully child handwriting, and just talk to people, listen to their answers. I'd have the pen tucked behind my ear and the notebook stuck in my pocket. She will tell anyone that, then follow up with the fact that I work for a newspaper and isn't that just a perfect ending.

Not the perfect ending, more like a beginning. I don't want to work at a newspaper forever, though I love the place I work. I love the things I do, the people I meet, the places I go, but I have an ultimate dream that I've expressed several times in this blog. I want to write books.

The head librarian at the library in my town, whom I've known since I was like... five, told me one day that she's waiting to see my book on her selves, to have me visit the library and have a book signing/reading. She keeps waiting.

"What are you waiting for? I know you can do it. Just get cracking."

Sure, that only happened a few years ago, but it's moments like that that really seem to solidify my dream. I've had several people tell me, yes mostly family and friends but still, that I would be a great writer. Yes, they could be being polite, but to me... they don't know what that means to me. It's those moments that make me go, "Wait, I could really do this. This could be a thing that I do." Getting that reassurance boosts my confidence.

So, that's sort of my moment. But my real moment came in... oh gosh, like 10th grade. My best friend (the same friend from earlier, just the 2005 version) had a huge crush on this guy, who would later become her very serious boyfriend that she is still dating since 11th grade and they now live together, but was way too shy to talk to him. We'd giggle about him, write secret notes to each other about him (and my crush), typical girl stuff. Well, me being me, I write a story about us.

I wish I still had a copy of it because I simply loved it. I was just a kid, not a great writer but loved reading and writing papers, and I wrote her this extremely long "soap opera" about our lives after high school with our crushes. It was so stinking adorable. I can still see the cover I made for it. When I finished it and read over it, it was that moment - that little spark of an idea that had turned into this short story - that made me think, hey... that was fun. I really liked doing that. I should do that more often.

And I did. I wrote so many short stories in high school, it was crazy. I spent so much time outside of school on my parents ancient Mac computer finding the write clip art to add to make my stories "fun-looking," writing outlines of my characters and plot. It was great.
Then college happened, and a I had a few years where I didn't think I could do it. Guess what college self, you can and you have. And it's great.

I also kept a lot of diaries growing up. I remember my first one, I think I got it for my 16th birthday. It had Winnie the Pooh on the cover and he was holding a balloon. Piglet was at his side and it was yellow. I filled it with so many angst-y thoughts and emotions, a lot of the pages were dedicated to boys.

As the years progressed, I filled those pages with worries about the future, about college, about leaving my friends behind and growing up. Now they sit in a tub underneath my bed and collect dust. Whenever I'm feeling nostalgic, I'll pull one out and just flip to a page and laugh.

That's what the written word does. It has that power. To be able to use that power and make people feel certain things, certain ways - it's an amazing gift. One that I hope to hone and mold as I grow older and wiser. Use the skills that I'm learning right now and create stories about characters I love, I hate, and put them into real-life or make believe situations.

Some day.

Oh P.S. - I am now assigned to write an editorial every month for my paper... so that's a thing I have to do. Yikes...

Cookie Me and L-O-V-E

Something you may not know about me - I love Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If you do know me, you're probably thinking - uh, duh Morgan. You talk about Buffy all the time. 

I recently re-watched all seven seasons of my fav TV show (which I do periodically) and there are many funny and memorable quotes throughout the seasons. One really stood out to me. For background info, the end of the world is coming (surprise) and Buffy's ex, the beautiful Angel, comes to her aid. They talk about their future and if Buffy sees any man in hers. Buffy doesn't think she's quite ready for another serious relationship and doesn't know when she will be. This was her reason why:

"I'm cookie dough. I'm not done baking. I'm not finished becoming who ever the hell it is I'm gonna turn out to be. I make it through this, and the next thing, and the next thing, and maybe one day, I turn around and realize I'm ready. I'm cookies. And then, you know, if I want someone to enjoy warm, delicious, cookie me, then that's fine. That'll be then. When I'm done." - Buffy, Season 7, Episode 22 - Chosen.

This is why the writers (especially Mr. Joss Whedon) are amazing because some of the things they say on that show just make me go - oh my God, that's me! Which, you know, in theory, there shouldn't be a lot of relation because Buffy is a vampire slayer and I am not, but still.. I digress.

I've obviously heard her say that before. I've watched the episode numerous times. But now, as my 25th birthday is approaching, I'm beginning to wonder where I am going to in my love life. I haven't had anything serious in QUITE some time, but then I wonder - well, am I ready to? Am I ready to share my life with someone when I haven't even really figured out who I am yet? Many of my friends are married, getting married and having children, and that's great for them. I'm glad they have figured their lives out. But people like me, well, we haven't yet.

It's that overused, common line - it's not you, it's me. Well, this time, it really is. I don't really know who I am, where I'm going - why should I subject my insecurities and questions on someone else?  I'm not at that part in my life where I can share it with someone else. I have to figure it out first. And having a family? Whoa, that's not even on my radar (which, if you have read one of my previous posts, is not really at all on my radar). How could I take care and be responsible for raising another person when I don't know who I am. How?? That's what baffles me about my friends who have children - holy crap, how are you ready to be a parent? How is that a thing? I just can't wrap my head around it. The same with the married ones. How are you a wife/husband? We're the same age, yet you know deep down that this person is the one you want to be with forever and share your life with? It's just hard to believe, that's all.

I know what some people would say - if I find someone, maybe they can help me figure me out. Maybe being with someone will help me find my path. Yeah, sure they could. But why should I rely on someone else to help me with something I should be able to do myself? I guess that's my independence streak talking again.

Watch out - this is where my post gets cynical.

I just can't help it. Maybe it's because I've never really been fully in love before, I just don't see the point of having a significant other in my life right now. I'm going to be 25, so that automatically means I need to be married or engaged. Um, no, not the last time I checked. I just have a hard time picturing myself with someone. Forever. And ever.

To death do us part is a big deal. I've seen fights, break ups, make ups - is it all worth it in the end? Why should I want someone who will just end up hurting me? Taking me for granted? Cheating on me? Leaving me for someone else? Disappointing me? Maybe I've just seen too many bad relationships within my family and friend circle that I'm jaded. I've seen people I love fall apart because of relationships. People get hurt. It's hard. Then why bother?

I think I've had some bad examples when it comes to the love department. My sister has had more boyfriends than I can count and some have ended quite badly. Most of the guys treated her like crap eventually and it never worked out. That's what I grew up with. My brother didn't exactly wow the ladies, but when he did, they weren't memorable. My parents went through a rough time when I was a teenager and my dad hurt my mom pretty badly (emotionally). I won't go into details, but I was pretty mad at my dad for quite awhile. But they worked it out (somehow) and I feel like they're happier now. But - yes there's always a but - they don't show their affection. We're not a lovey-dovey family. Maybe that's it. I don't remember being told "I love you" very often growing up, it was just always assumed. Yes, I knew they loved me, but they didn't say it. I have a hard time saying it to people now. Those word just sound strange coming out of my mouth. 

Anyway - my point is that I haven't had the best examples of a great love story in my lifetime. Both of my siblings are married now, though. My brother and sister-in-law seem happily married and it's great. I'm not sure what goes on behind closed doors, but they seem like they're in a good place. They've had their ups and downs but it's all good now, I hope. My sister, well, I can't decide on her yet. She and her husband have been married three... two.. four.. years now? and I just can't tell if they're happy. She tells me she wants to just leave him because he's a jerk to her, but then doesn't. Okay, well, do you love him? I just don't understand it.

"Oh, because being in love is like nothing you've ever experienced. It overpowers you. You feel so strongly for another person, you can't live without them." people might tell me. 

Well, is that a good thing? Don't get me wrong, I love my family and my friends. I'm talking about love - deep down in your heart you can't live without that person you think about them every day kind of deal here. I just don't get it. It's true, I've never truly experienced it.

I know, this is sort of going to 1,000 different directions, but my brain is doing that right now too. One thing leads to another thought and it's all a jumble.

What it boils all down to - is love worth it and is it real? Why risk putting myself out there for someone to maybe love, but then probably leave? Are those moments with them - those moments that I know that I love this person - worth the heartache and pain that will more than likely come? (Maybe I have a trust issue - that kind of sounds like a thing). Maybe once I'm done baking and I figure out who I am and what I'm doing and become cookies, I'll be ready to find someone - who loves me, whom I love in return, I trust and can see myself spending the rest of my life is. I doubt it, but we'll see.

Don't even get me started on love at first sight. That is just impossible. Are you freaking kidding me? You can't look at someone and go - yup, I love that person. I'm going to marry him/her. No, you look at someone and lust for them and think they've very attractive. There's a HUGE difference. I might write a separate post just on this topic because I have such strong feelings against it. 

random - I found this thread while trolling the Internet. This girl believes she's so ugly, she just can't be loved. That men suck and none are capable of love and that it's not real. 

http://www.wowwomen.com/boards/showthread.php?t=1944

That is the link. I think it's very interesting reading people's arguments for and against the idea of love. But this girl seems to just given up hope and hates herself, which may be a reason why she has not found someone. (after reading the full thread, I found out this girl is probably fake and she's ridiculous, but the advice those women gave was very informative and uplifting)

But there is a woman who makes argument that makes me think. She wrote, "There is an old saying that "love is blind" and that is indeed true but lust has eyes and not much else! I have been around this ol' world a long time (61 years) and can assure you that you need to have a GOOD relationship with yourself, to LOVE yourself before you are likely to find love from someone else. You need to be complete in yourself rather than looking for someone else to complete you. As to love, I KNOW there is such a thing as true love though it is very rare indeed while love is not uncommon at all. I have no doubt many people live their lives with someone out of "convenience" to to stave off the loneliness without ever being in love. Others find the simple, comfortable love and happily live their lives. A lucky few find true love and know the difference."

Maybe that's my problem. I haven't finished baking, I'm not ready to love someone? Hmm, lady, you may be on to something there. I'm definitely open to other people's thoughts and perspectives. 

I just wish I had all the answers and could see into the future. But then again, life wouldn't be very fun, would it?

**I saw this blog going an entirely different way when I started. Huh, weird.

Clarity post rage

It's amazing what blogging can do.

I was so angry just a few hours ago, but being able to write out all my feelings on this blog made me feel so much better. Not good enough to call my mom and talk about it, but good enough to actually have a decent day today.

Like with a previous post. I wrote about a guy a liked in college, and the fact that I still liked him now. Well, after writing out all my feelings and confusion, I feel better about it. I've realized that the way I was feeling wasn't crazy (well, maybe a little) and now I think I'm finally over him. It's about time too, let me tell you.

So, blogging is healthy, I've decided. It's good for me and I'm glad I've finally found a way to get my feelings out. I know that no one reads this thing, so it's just a way for me to get things out without anyone judging me. Just me and my blog.

So much rage

I probably shouldn't even be blogging right now because of how I angry I am right now. Plus, I'm not even sure I can get all my emotions clearly written in this blog without going on a HUGE rant. But maybe I'll just go on one anyway. Of course, I might just end up pounding on the keyboard in my anger.

The things that keep me up at night..

That title isn't as scary-sounding as it might seem. It's not like I have anything in my house that goes bump in the night... at least not yet.. It's just my brain and thoughts that keep sleep out of my reach.

This type of thing happens to me all the time. It's not really fair, but what can you do? I know I'm tired, I can feel it. Right now, my eyes are drooping shut and my eyelids feel like they weigh 100 pounds. But I try to lay down and go to sleep..

NOTHING.

If I were to picture what my brain looks like, I image there are hundreds of thoughts just buzzing around in there.. no rules, no traffic laws, just complete chaos.

There is one topic that is keeping me up tonight though. One in particular that is on the front burner.

A boy.

I know, go figure. Isn't is always?

This boy in particular I have known since early 2009. I met him in college. His name is Matt and I think I was in love with him for all those two and a half years during my college days.

Did he know it?

No! Because I was (well, still am) to insecure about myself to say something.

We met in my Intro to American Politics class my sophomore year of college. Well, I noticed him on the first day of class. I, of course, sat in the back corner and he sat in the front row (our desks were in a u shape in the room) so I had an excellent view of him.

Turns out, we also worked the same shift at the college cafeteria. And we worked side by side.

I recognized him right away when we showed up for our first shift. I couldn't believe that out of all the work shifts and all the student employees, we were on the same schedule.

Things got even better when we were assigned to work in the same area. I got to stand by him for three hours. THREE WHOLE HOURS.

I was assigned to scoop rice and he was my busser. I remember it like it was yesterday.

I don't know how I got up the courage to even talk to him. I was (well, still am) a complete chicken/wuss/scaredy cat and yet somehow, I managed to ask him a question.

I asked him, "Aren't you in Professor Whatshisname's Intro to American Politics class?" I knew he was, but I didn't want to say that to prove how much of a creeper I was.

And we hit if off from there. Just thinking about that time gives me butterflies because I seriously liked him from the first night we worked together.

That was probably the greatest semester ever, in relation to work. I had so much fun with him. Somehow, I struggled to keep up in politics class and that gave us something to talk about.

I was the first to initiate the friend request on Facebook, at the prodding of my roommate. She knew how much I liked him because I talked about him all the time. I mean, all the time.
Oh Matt said this and You'll never guess what Matt did today.

One of my favorite things he did was untie my apron. I don't know why, but it just made me smile. Every time he'd walk by me at work, he'd untie my apron. I pretended to get mad at him, but really I was thinking "oh my God he's paying attention to me. Please don't stop."
And he didn't.

We kept in contact over the summer (on Facebook, of course) and I couldn't wait to get back to school and get working with him again. Sadly, we did not have a class together again.. oh wait, yeah we did. We had another history class together, but I sat in the front with my friends and he sat in the back with his. I think that was the semester I didn't see him much because we didn't work together..

ANYWAY.

There are a few specific moments in our relationship that really stand out to me:

1. the moment I got his phone number. I think it was junior year and I had a project I was working on for my video production class. I really wanted a guy to be in it. I was eating in the Den with my roommate when he came up to us. I asked him about my project and pestered him until he said yes. Then I asked for his phone number so I could get ahold of him later and he said this: "I think you're just trying to find a way to get my phone number." I think I turned beet red and I stuttered. Well, what am I supposed to say to that? Oh uh.. well yeah it is. I really really like you. The ened.

2. the moment he had a girlfriend. I remember looking on Facebook and it popped up that Matt had changed his relationship status to IN A RELATIONSHIP. I about flipped out. My poor roommate was in our room and she knew how much I liked him. I yelled at my computer and she's said, "what in the hell is wrong with you?" I answered, "Matt has a girlfriend." That was all I needed to say and she understood. I think I stalked her almost instantly and she seemed really damn nice which pissed me off even more. Then, one night, I worked a shift with him (but not side by side) and all the employees ate supper together. It was a big table filled with lots of people, but he was sitting close to me and I could hear him talk about her. I just kept my mouth shut and I think he actually noticed that I wasn't talking. He didn't say anything and I didn't talk to him the whole shift. He stopped talking about her after that. Then they broke up and I felt bad for feeling happy about it.

3. the moment in the library. Can I just.. this is my favorite memory of him. It was literally the greatest night. I had to work on a paper for class and I went to the library to find a study room to write it. Well, it was finals time and all the rooms were full. As I was walking around looking for one, I looked in one room and saw Matt in there by himself. He waved at me, I waved back and kept going. As I walked away, I heard him open the door and come after me.
"Hey, do you want to share my room? I'm just in there by myself?"
I just stared at him.. uh yes! Well, I was freaking out because it would be just him and me in this little room. I think this was late junior year? Senior year? I can't keep everything straight.
ANYWAY. We worked in that room together until the library closed at midnight. It was so much fun. I don't know how I got my paper done because I was so damn nervous. I tried my hardest not to stare at him because we were sitting right across from each other at this little round table. I thought I could feel this charge between us, but I could have been imagining it. I do have quite the imagination. We walked together outside and he walked me to my building, even though it was out of his way. How sweet is that?

But did I ever mention to him that I liked him as more than a friend? Nope. Do I regret it? Yup. I might have missed out on something really special because I was too scared to put myself out there. Too scared to admit I liked him. What if he didn't like me back like that? Our friendship would have been super awkward after that. But that was the risk, right? High risk, high reward? But four years of silence.

Then, we graduated. He moved down to Des Moines and I moved back up north with my parents. Two years after graduation, he still lives down there and I still live up here. And I still like him. Though I know that there is no point to it and nothing will ever come of it, I still find myself lingering a little longer on his Facebook updates and thinking to myself, "Does he ever think about me? What's he doing right now?" I'm sure he doesn't, I bet I don't even cross his mind. But that's okay though. I get it.

Throughout the four years, I had my ups and downs with him. I would convince myself that there was no point in liking him because there was no way he would think that way about it. Just get over him. And I thought I did. Then I would see him again and he's make me laugh and I'd have to start all over.

I haven't seen him in two years and I still think about him. I know, it's stupid and weird. I wish I didn't.


That is what's on my mind tonight. My regrets and the what-ifs. What if I would have said something to him about the way I felt, where would I be now? Would my life be any different? Would we have dated? (probably not, I have that whole self confidence issue thing) It's probably stupid to think about. I know it's stupid to be thinking about it at 1:30 in the morning on a Sunday night/Monday morning. I have work bright and early in the morning and the alarm will show no mercy at 6:45. No mercy at all.

Back to High School

Meet my high school, a place I called home for six years.
From 6th to 12th grades, in this one building.
They were some of the best times of my life.

When I started my job at my hometown newspaper a year ago, I knew there'd be experiences that I would have to deal with when they came up.

It didn't cross my mind then, but one of those experiences turned out to be walking back into my high school after leaving it five years before.

I was assigned to go take pictures of the high school art show. Something pretty mundane, right? Well, it should be been.I remember walking into those front doors, into those hallowed hallways and was instantly brought back to the days when I was walking to class with my friends, not having a care in the world.

Remember those days? All I had to worry about was studying for my next Algebra exam and whether or not the boy in my Biology class ever noticed me.. which he didn't. I didn't have to think about bills, grocery shopping, rent or whether or not my milk was okay three days after it expired.. which it wasn't.

When we're kids, all we wanted to do is grow up, be an adult and just leave high school as fast as possible and onto something bigger and better. Now that we're adults, we think about going back. How we could redo things, relive our glory days and just be young again.

And every time I go to a high school event, which I do a lot, I look at those kids and think of the futures they have in front of them. Where are they going to go to college? What will their major be? Will they stay in touch with their high school friends as much as they promise to? Will they succeed? I was in their place once. I remember how terrifying it was, how unsure of yourself you are. Now that it's over and gone, I wish I could go back and relive some moments.  

I recently attended a high school boys track meet and it definitely brought back memories for me. For those of you who don't know, which you shouldn't, at my high school, my best friend and I were the boys track managers. Those track meets were some of the best times of my high school career. We had the best times on the bus, at the meets and during practice. Those moments are the ones I'd like to relive. Me and my best friend, together in the same town, having a blast and being carefree. We got to check out really cute guys and hang out with great track coaches.

When I was taking pictures of the recent track meet, I hunted those coaches down and it made me even more sad. They're still the same great guys and I really wanted to be part of that group again. I saw their current managers sitting in bleachers, like we used to, covered head to toe because it was freezing, and just having a blast. I wanted to be them again. I wanted to be in those bleachers. We were almost in that exact same spot six or seven years ago. We were those girls. But now we're not. We're grown ups.

I guess going to that track meet really made me reminisce. Being back in that high school, where I walked across that stage, accepted my diploma and was excited to get the hell outta dodge, really makes me miss being that age. I know that it was six years ago and there's no going back, but I know that I'll have the memories forever.

When I go back up to the school now, I just smile and think about the times I spent there. I see the kids walk through the halls and picture myself there, walking with my best friend to our lockers and talking about boys. Being young and carefree.

Though I love reminiscing, it's time for me to focus on the life I have in front of me. Though yes, it can be hard and stressful, I wouldn't trade it for anything. I say that I wish I could go back, but if given the opportunity, I really don't think I would. That time of my life is over and it's time to be in the here and now.

“Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up.”

Oh My Goodness!

That's my go-to phrase when I don't know what to say.
"Oh my goodness" or "Oh dear" are my favorites.

Yes, I don't know what to say. I haven't blogged since.. like October and now it's March and I feel like a jerk.

I would like to say a lot has happened since I wrote last, but.. OH WAIT IT HAS! That's right, this girl has finally moved out of her parents' house and into one of her own! It's a miracle.

I never thought it would happen, but it finally did and I am so excited about it. Let me tell you how it happened.

I remember going home from work and Mom was making supper. I was standing in the kitchen talking to her when my phone buzzed. I looked it and I had a Facebook message. It read:

"Hey Morgan. How's it going? Well, I just wanted to let you know that we have a 2-bedroom/1 bath house that will come up for rent Feb. 1 (it's surprisingly close to your 'rents house!) and wondered if you would be interested in renting it yourself or with a friend? It's a very nice little house.....
We haven't advertised yet, just thought I could extend an offer to you - if you're at all interested."

I kind of looked at my phone in shock. I had been thinking of looking into apartments and stuff, but I just hadn't gotten around to it yet. I saw that message and thought, "Is this my chance?"

Rent was pretty cheap (if you have a roommate, which I do) and I immediately thought of my friend and co-worker who has unhappy in her apartment.

It sort of snowballed from there. We saw the house, loved it, I made a budget to figure out if I could afford it (which I can if I cut out spending money on stupid things) and BOOM! we moved!

Moving was crazy. My whole family helped me, which I saw as payback for all the times I helped them move.

When I was moving out, I got really nostalgic. As I was packing, I got really sad because I was packing up my whole life. I had lived in that bedroom since I was two years old. Sure, I went to college, but I left all my stuff at my parents' house. This time, I packed up EVERYTHING.

When my room was empty and all my stuff moved into trucks, I sat on my floor and just looked at my room. I had picked out the paint and personally painted each wall. I picked out the carpet and helped my dad install it. Each nail hole represented a picture that will now be hung in my new bedroom. I had so many memories in that room and now it's not mine anymore.

But it got better when I set up my new bedroom in my new house. It took me a little while, but I'm okay now. It's been a month and I am doing well. I saw my old bedroom at my parents' house and they've already changed it up. It's like they were just waiting for me to leave! They started rearranging their stuff about two days after I left! I was like, whoa.. cool your jets guys!

It's nice, to be an adult and not have to answer to my parents every time I want to go some place or just sit on the couch all day and play my Sims 3.

Sure, money is tight. Tighter than tight, but I manage. It's all part of being an adult. Though sometimes it really sucks and there are things I really don't want to do, I have to suck it up and do it. Well, I'm supposed to do it. I haven't done some of the things I have to do yet.. like health insurance. Oops.

My roommate and I are getting along quite well. We've known each other for like.. six years so it's all good.

Though I'm pretty sure my grandma thinks I'm a lesbian. I know, right? Talk about weird. I was at my grandma and grandpa's house for Easter and she was asking me how I like my house. I told her great, I really like it. Then she asked me, "So, how does your lady friend like the house?"

My lady friend? Really Grandma? My lady friend?

I answered, "Well, my roommate really likes it."

Dear, sweet Grandmother. I like men. With penises. And beards. Just so you know. Thanks.