Monthly Archives: May 2015

Lesson #313: “I tried hard.”


Today at dinner, my friend Kandace and I found ourselves standing next to a another young woman waiting for her food. Her hair was perfectly curled, she wore a blue and white sundress, and she was rocking a pair of cute leather booties. I told her how much I loved her outfit, and she thanked me with a huge smile on her face.

“I could lie and pretend like I just threw this on—but to be honest—I tried. Really hard.”

Kandace, me, and the girl fell out laughing. I told her she was my new favorite person for that.

When people compliment us, we either humbly or shyly deflect the comment, or we just smile and say, “Thanks,” because quite frankly—we know how hot we look.

But what this girl said was so honest. When we look at other people or even objects, we seem to always focus on the end product or finished appearance—which is good—but we don’t ever really pay much tribute to or acknowledge the work it took to get there.

That’s probably how it’s supposed to be.

But still. It’s good to remember just this:

Nothing starts perfect.

It takes work to get to where you want to be. It takes a little bit of time and effort.

Recognize the journey, celebrate the destination.

And when you look damn good—flaunt it.

Day 312.


Lesson #312: Don’t shun ’em.


I totally thought this guy was hitting on me on my flight today, so I was cold to him.

Turns out, he was just really nice.

And I’m just really ridiculous.

He actually ended up being super cool.

We talked about art, life, music, and passion. I learned a lot from him. It was so refreshing to hear about his experiences. Especially from someone who is from a completely different place and background.

Lesson of the day?

Get your head out of your ass.

You may meet the most wonderful people in the most unexpected places. And you may learn a little something from them too.

Day 312.

Lesson #311: I came for a short time, but a sweet time.


I’ve only had about two and a half weeks at home.

At first, I was a little upset.

How was that supposed to be enough time to see my family and friends and get ready before I leave for an entire summer?

But now that I’ve reached the end of my time and get ready board my flight in three hours,

I’ve realized that this was actually the perfect amount of time.

It wasn’t too long, and it wasn’t too short.

It was sweet.

I’ve probably done more in two and a half weeks then I would have done here over an entire summer.

I shot and went to a wedding, saw and met Andy Grammer, reunited with all of my family for my grandma’s 70th birthday, beached it, spent a few nights out on the town, met a few new people, saw all my friends instead of putting it off and never doing it, got a tattoo, and a ton more.

Every moment became precious.

It’s not like i’m going off forever—at least not yet—but I think it’s just the whole concept of leaving what you know behind and saying goodbye, even if just for a little bit, that makes everything so valued and adored and cherished.

A shorter time means a sweeter time.

Of course, not everything gets done.

In fact, there’s a list of things I still haven’t done and a list of people I still haven’t seen—and now won’t now until August.

But what in life is ever completely done, or finished?

No amount of time will ever truly feel like enough when we’re spending it with the people we love.

But we have to go off.

We have to leap.

All I know is, I’ve had a heck of a good time.

And I can’t wait to see what this LA adventure and these last 54 days bring.

See you on the west coast ;)

Day 311.

Lesson #310: Your time in the sun.


It’s so good to have good friends you know you’ll have forever.

As my LA departure creeps up closer and closer, I’ve made it a point to see the people who mean the most to me before I leave for the summer. When I met up with one of my closest friends, MaRae, she gave me a journal to write about my journey in (isn’t she the greatest?) and an amazing piece of advice I’ll never forget.

“Don’t let anyone ruin this time for you. Let no one unload any of their troubles on you—back home or out there. This is your time. This is your season. This is your blessing.”

I told her that what she said was so funny, because it was something I needed to hear. “I could see myself actually letting someone do that,” I paused. “And I won’t.”

I feel like this is something that happens often. When we find ourselves in a new experience or position or location—we’re vulnerable. We open ourselves up to a world of possibilities, but by doing that we also open ourselves up to a world of potential wounds. There are always people there to support us, but there are also always people there just to tear us down, whether they mean to or not.

It’s easy to get wrapped up in other people’s drama or lives. It’s easy to get caught up in what people think and their beliefs about us.

It’s a lot easier said than done, but just don’t do it. 

It’s simple.

When it’s your time in the sun,

bask in it.

When you’re enjoying every bit of sunlight,

you don’t have time to sulk in the shadows.

I’m lucky enough to have a ray of sunshine in my life to remind me of this.

Day 310.

Lesson #309: How to avoid accidentally drugging yourself.


After accidentally drugging myself at a friend’s house to avoid an allergic reaction to cats, delusionally calling my mother to pick me up when my friends banned me from operating a motor vehicle, and waking up confused after 13 hours of sleep—here’s what I learned.

1. If it doesn’t say it’s non-drowsy, it’s probably not non-drowsy.

2. Never take two pills. It’s a trap.

3. Am I even an adult?

Day 309.

Lesson #308: It’s okay not to be okay.


Starting about four months ago, my nineteen-year-old cousin began having seizures.

They came out of blue. The first one happened right around New Years; we were thankful it happened with all of us around. But they haven’t stopped since then.

They still come. Randomly. In school, at home—whenever and wherever they want.

The doctors have done tests to find what triggers it. They say it’s stress and strain among other things. But they are still working to find a medicine that works best. And they haven’t gotten to that point yet.

This morning I heard a scream downstairs, and ran.

My cousin was on the kitchen floor with my mom and dad. My grandma and brother ran downstairs and my aunt hopped out of the shower. We all kept the dogs away and laid her on her side and got her a towel. If you’ve never experienced it, you can’t even imagine how scary it is to see someone go through that—especially when it’s someone you know and love.

Over the past few months, she has been positive about it all. “The doctors are working on it,” she’ll say with a smile. “Everything happens for a reason.” But as college inches closer for her, I’ve noticed that optimism is beginning to fade. She can’t get her license. She feels sick or lightheaded more times than not. The unknown is constantly circling her. Always, when will it happen next?

As she woke up and slowly noted what had happened, she began sobbing. As did myself, and a few of us.

Everyone kept telling her “It’s okay, don’t cry”—myself included.

But then I took her hand and told her—

you know what?

It’s not.

It’s not okay that you can’t go somewhere without being scared. It’s not okay that you’re constantly living on edge. It’s not okay that your life is different; that it’s been altered without any warning.

I told her to cry and be upset.

Which probably wasn’t the best thing to do after someone’s literally woken up from seizing on the kitchen floor. Note taken.

But you know what I was getting at.

We need that sometimes.

We need to cry—to actually, physically have that release. We need that momentary freak out. That time to say to ourselves: “This is not okay. Nothing is okay. This is not fair. And I hate this.”

Because we’re human.

And when it’s not okay, we shouldn’t have to pretend like it is.

We can’t give into the the darkness that indubitably surrounds situations and circumstances like these, or else we’d be down for good. But the point is to have that moment, to get it all out, and then to pick up and keep going.

A lot like my very first lesson.

It’s definitely hard, but it helps to have faith in something or someone, and to trust in whatever is happening. You have to believe that you’re going to be okay—but you should also be able to have your moment to be angry and frustrated.

My cousin is the sweetest person in the world. It frustrates me because she doesn’t deserve this.

Who does?

But now that moment is over.

I’ve acknowledged those feelings, and now I’m going to be right by her side as we continue to hope and pray for the best, find the good things in this, and keep moving forward.

Appreciate everything and everyone you have. You never know how lucky you are until you do.

Day 307.

Please keep Kayla in your prayers! Thanks :)

Lesson #307: Leap.


Take a leap of faith.

In fact, keep taking leaps of faith.

One right after the other.

Go out on a limb. Step over the edge.

Say it. Be it. Overcome it.

Do it afraid.

And never stop.

I promise you,

9 times out of 10, you won’t regret it.

Instead, you will be proud of yourself for doing what you were most afraid of—no matter how it turns out.

That’s what I’ve learned time after time.

And I guess now I have proof.

It’s my first tattoo.

Take a leap of faith.

You’d be surprised where it lands you.

Day 306.