The Best, The Worst, and the Possible Friday, Mar 18 2011 

Hi Readers,

To get right to the point: Yesterday was my 21st birthday. One of the first things my roomie told me is that every birthday, her mother asks her three things: What was the best part of this past year? What was the worst part of this past year? And, what are you looking forward to in the coming year? So she asks me, what about you?

My dear readers, you get to know these answers as I discover them myself…

I think that the best part of this past year was the end of the school year in May. It is by far one of the hardest and best things I have ever done for myself. I sort-of left home in 2008 by moving on to campus, but that was for nine months out of the year. During breaks and summer vacation I lived at home… except for a month and half where I lived with a former friend of the family. Bad idea that was–long story short, she took advantage of the fact that I had never lived on my own and that we didn’t have our agreement down on paper. Won’t be making that mistake again. Anyway, after that I moved back in with my mum until school started back up again. I made the decision to move out from under my mum’s roof and off campus permanently in late January; after many a toil, Amanda and I moved picked up a third member, and this trio moved into a townhouse with two other people, a sixth person was only staying with us for the summer. So, May 7th came around, we signed documents and paid our dues, that same day, we began moving in. Ten months pass and here we are. 🙂

The worst part of this past year was probably during the Christmas holiday. Since my job allows me to work wherever I want to, I went home for winter break. Things were going great despite the fact that I would have to be around my mum’s (then) boyfriend. She loved him, so I tolerated him… and I guess you could say he did the same to her children. In any case, I had just gotten there when a couple of days into my stay, my mum got a call from his work. He had just fallen from a 12 foot ladder and was being rushed to the hospital. When he finally came home after my mum picked him up… long story short, I don’t care how much pain you are in, you don’t treat people like they are less than dirt. Seriously, treat others the way you wish to be treated. By treating people horribly, you make it so they really don’t give a damn (at least that is how it is for me). That short story short, things got worse and worse. Finally, on January 1, 2011, we packed the house, and by the next day, we moved mum’s stuff out and into storage, and got her a place to stay. It was the holidays–and I should have been happy. But I wasn’t even close to that. I hate seeing my family torn apart that way… their sadness and hurt serves no purpose to anyone. It has been awhile, but that was one of the worse holidays I’ve ever had.

The coming year has many possibilities. Nevertheless, if there is one thing I am looking forward to, it is the beginning of my senior year. It will be the start of the final chapter in this particular section of my life. I’m a mix of terrified and excited. I’ve a senior thesis to write, a couple of classes to take, bills to pay, etc. All things considered–whether it be something that happened right after my 20th birthday, or something that happened right before my 21st birthday–life is good right now and I’m not really sure what else I can say.

So there you have it…

From the perspective of a 21-year-old woman.

❤ Nolaleigh

P.S. You will also get to hear about Saturday Night, teehee 😉

Shy Girl Wednesday, Mar 16 2011 

Hi Readers,

How are you today? I’m just going to say it: I wish I was better at not being shy. It is fixable… but it takes so damn long. I am in an introvert by nature–this probably does not help the shyness, but I still like being around people–maybe not all the time, but definitely sometimes.

Day 22 - A picture of something you wish you were better at.

Being shy is horrible. I guess. In a classroom, or any place, I am the one sitting quietly, not really speaking to anyone. I’m not trying to be anti-social, or bitchy for that matter–I just prefer to observe my surroundings. I am much more comfortable out of the spotlight. This is a problem… especially in a classroom where discussion is mandatory.

Any teacher, without knowing it, could make me break into tears, stutter beyond control, blush five sheets of red, etc. You get the picture, right? I do okay when I’m in front of a classroom, because I’ve had time to prepare. Classroom discussions could just about kill someone like me because the discussion is right then and there. No prep work. I can’t bring up answers with a snap of someone’s fingers, I’ve tried…

It is intimidating when having to speak on the spot. I don’t have time to formulate an answer… which (in my head) makes me feel stupid in front of my peers. I fall deeper and deeper into discomfort, and I try, I really do try to counter act my embarassment/discomfort by saying or doing something that might be considered witty. To no avail. Sh*t out of luck in that department, I am.

On a lighter note, I am capable of saying hi–which I will do. You might have to press for any more than that at first, but I like talking to people as I become more acquainted with them. I know it’s probably alot to ask for… but that’s me… I’m always trying…

❤ Nolaleigh

The Heart Never Forgets Tuesday, Mar 15 2011 

Hi Readers,

I guess this is another one of the those dark posts that are inevitably part of any challenge. I’m not even sure dark is the proper word I would use… horribly vulnerable might be perfect. Anyway…

Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget.

I wish I could forget the existence of the three men who have been in the position as my father-figure. They will never understand or accept how much they’ve contributed to the amount of self-doubt I have. I’m pretty good at pretending to be cocky and that I love myself, but they made me question my self-worth and then made me out to be the perpetrator.

I know that people come into your life and then leave sometimes for a reason… but what purpose did they serve? They beat me physically, emotionally, and psychologically. And for what? To watch me get back up again and again. I guess that is the hugely positive part about all of this–I get up and don’t stay down…

On a lighter note, I hope you are having a wonderful day. 🙂

❤ Nolaleigh

Their Eyes Were Watching God Monday, Mar 14 2011 

Hi Readers,

I bring you a book review! It is not on the 2011 Reading List, but I read it for my Women’s Literature class, and I really like it. To be honest, I consider it one of those timeless pieces that everyone should read at least once in their life time.

“Now, women forget all those things they don’t want to remember, and remember everything they don’t want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.” (Pg. 1)

Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God, is the story of Janie Crawford. It explores her sexual identity from the age of 16 to when she is a little over 40 years old, and her ever changing views of herself and the world.

As a young woman, Janie has a very brief involvement with with and young man named Johnny Taylor. Janie’s grandmother strongly dislikes Johnny and thus feels the need to immediately separate the two almost-lovers upon seeing them kissing. It is at this time that she orchestrates a marriage between Janie and Logan Killicks. Logan is a great deal older than Janie and quite obviously financially secure—but extremely emotionally insecure. He is never capable of emotionally meeting her needs. He could give her everything except for that. They are married for a short time when she meeting Joe Starks. She runs off with him, and gets married. However, things were not very good. He forces her into a kind of oppression–makes her close herself off to attention from others, and hides her beauty. When Joe passes away, she meets Tea Cake. He is much younger than Janie and yet their relationship seems to “work.” Depending on your perspective, the relationship might be wonderful… for me, it is not good. Anyway…

I genuinely loved this book. I recommend to anyone and everyone. I read reviews by people that complained about the language and “improper english”–and I wonder if they remember that this book takes places in the South? It is an authentic dialect. The book is about a sexual awakening as well as a lesson in self-knowledge is an overall aspect–so keep that in mind; it is not tasteless and perverted; it is true to life and human nature.

The Saturday Review says, “The classic story of light-skinned Janie Crawford’s evolving selfhood through three marriages. A novel that ‘…belongs in the same category with that of William Faulkner, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Ernest Hemingway.'”

 I’m giving Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God, a 5out 5. Absolutely phenomenal.

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