The Story of...

I am writing this because I literally have to. I forgot how much I needed to do this. It is essential. Not as essential as air, or food, but more like that vacation you take, or a jog around the block. I am starting this post by letting off steam; and if you know me, you know that means we could end up anywhere by the end of this. No topic is too random or off limits. How liberating. That's why I need writing. It isn't a schedule. It isn't structure. (The only structure I need is to be grammatically correct. Which I don't even really look at very closely. It usually comes pretty natural. Ha.)

I'm at a weird place in my life. But who isn't, I guess. For the first time, I feel old. I feel like all of the youthful years in my life have passed me by, and I better get to growing up, or else I'm going to be the only one left at the party, and who wants that? However, in my search for finding that balance between frivolous youth and "maturity" I have come upon some major stumbling blocks.

Obviously, I am back in school at my attempt at a second degree. I'm confident I'm making the right choice, but it has proved to be much more difficult than I initially thought. Nursing couldn't be more different than English. in English, I found myself analyzing everything. I looked at the world as always having a hidden message, waiting for me to figure out. Every person in my life became a character. My life had a plot, a setting, a problem, a climax, a resolution. Beauty could be found in anything. Even pain could be beautiful. And everything had a meaning. I learned how to make myself look at everything from a distance. Quiety observing, going through the details over in my head as a Coldplay song played as background music. Nursing is not like this. In nursing...everything is so REAL. A part of me finds this thrilling, because I still feel as though I'm not a part of it, just observing. Like a tourist at Disney World. Or someone who isn't a gothic person who goes to a gothic place and pretends to be gothic because it's fun. Or something. I'm trying to teach myself to focus more. To be literal. Stop analyzing. This is real people. And real life stories don't always have a clear beginning, middle, or end. Old habits die hard, though. And my grades are suffering probably because of it.

See? I'm doing it again. I have to have a "problem" I have to analyze myself. I can't just say, "I made a bad grade because I didn't fully understand the material. Because that's boring. No, I want to hear the coming-of-age story about the girl who triumphed over her English degree past to become a successful nursing student.

I'm going to go study anatomy now. Lymphatic system test in an hour. Also known as "The Story of How Our Bodies Fight Infection."

Stay Tuned,
Court xo

On Love and Such

I have been thinking a whole lot about what I believe in as far as love and relationships go. In the past, I took the "head in the clouds" path. La dee da. Which is cool. If you're Cinderella and your story ends when the carriage goes off into the sunset.

But this is Earth, where the story keeps going. And what happens when the new wears off? What happens when Cinderella starts getting on Prince Charming's nerves? Or when Prince Charming starts "working late?" Or when both of them start to show their age? Yeah...the fairytales never explain that part.

So, something hit me. Actually, life gave me a large dose of reality in the only way life knows how. Because of this...I no longer believe in the following: love at first sight, soulmates, knights in shining armor searching for their damsels in distress, grand romantic gestures, or "signs."

I'm no longer half a person seeking out the person designed for them, thinking said person will "complete them."

The only person I needed to find was myself. And it was easier than I thought! I was here all along! Who knew?

And of course I still believe in love. In fact, I believe in it SO much that I don't want to make a mockery out of it. I don't want to commercialize it like Valentine's Day. Or make it scientific by saying it's all instinct. Instead, I want to love as God intended it. Slow and strong. I want to fall in love accidentally. I want to wake up one day and realize that someone has been there all along. That we know each other's flaws and the way the other works and we appreciate it. More than that, we can't HELP but love the other. The other's happiness matters exponentially. Key words are giving, committment, and TIME.

In real love, the new doesn't wear off because there isn't a "new" phase. It builds from ground zero. The only reason we think of the new wearing off is because that's when we learn about each other.

But we should do that BEFORE we commit to them. That way, when the time comes there is nothing left BUT to be together. You can't resist it anymore.

You don't need your "other half." You're a whole person all on your own. Be happy that way.

Because of all of the self-refelcting life forced me into, I now know that I don't consciously WANT to fall in love. Which means, it's going to be a complete accident and hit me like a ton of bricks. And leave me thinking..."Well, oops" With my luck, it will probably be someone so wrong for me on paper. But I won't care. Because I will have already built a foundation on friendship and be committed to the person before we're even officially committed to each other. And I am soooo ok with that.

Everything happens for a reason. In a way, I like to think that God cured me of a disease I had called "hopeless romanticism." Not just saying this, but I have no DESIRE to be in a relationship. None. Zero. Expectations are out of the window along with idealizations. The next time I'm in one it will be because I couldn't help myself.

Why You Shouldn't Get Me Flowers

I used to be the type of girl who loved flowers. All girls love flowers, right? And why shouldn't they?! They're beautiful and fragrant and a sign that someone was thinking about you.

And if I was the type of girl who would water them and press them and take pictures of them and chat about them to friends then you could get me flowers.

Or maybe I would pick each one, giving them to random friends. Or kids. Or something.

All that would be well and good. But what if I forgot about them and let them sit in the corner of my living room for three months? The red roses with a big red bow around the vase would be the laughingstock of the fresh spring bouquet that is fake because everyone knows I don't take care of living things well.

And when it is brought to my attention that these flowers have passed their prime, I would say "I'll throw them away" but I'm too forgetful to do so.

So then. Finally. I decide it's time to throw them away. There's nothing else to do with them. I was too neglectful. So I take the huge dead display of roses out to my car, deciding they would be better off in the dumpster. Some dead petals fall off on the carpet before I even make it outside. When I finally get to my car, without shoes of course, I put them in the passenger seat keeping them steady with one hand as the other steers. Now I'm just frustrated. The gross water is sloshing about and I swear if that gets everywhere I will...be very angry!

At the dumpster, I decide to throw the whole thing away. Vase and all. Because that is just how much I don't care. A few stray petals linger in my car that will probably be there until 2016.

Icing on the cake comes when I get back in my car and make the circle back home it starts pouring down raining. So now I'm running inside, shoeless, frustrated, and cursing roses.

Seriously, don't get me flowers.

That Picture That I Chose

Hmm. Hmmmmmmm. Here I am again. Now that I am done with my English classes in college forever, I feel like I can breathe again. And by breathing I mean "Write for fun and not horrible, subjective grading processes" So I don't know what I will be writing about. WHO KNOWS??? And maybe (probably) no one will read this. I don't exactly care. In fact, there is little I do care about in the world of trivial things.

But it is 2:33 am...so I am being nonsensical.

So let's talk. Let's talk about why on Earth I chose the picture I did for this blog and why I refuse to change it even though I immediately regretted the decision right after I updated it. Or better yet...let's talk about why I took this mirror self portrait anyways.

Nah, I changed my mind. I don't wanna talk about that.

I'm hungry. I'd like Ramen noodles. I actually WANT them. With soy sauce. Soooo good. And you can tell I'm low maintenance too.

Mmhmm. Anyways. Yeah. I think I'm done for now.

-co

First.

I don't feel like being fancy today. This is obvious by my messy messy hair and my face with leftover makeup. I put on new clothes today though, so I still feel good. I'm just sitting here eating homemae bread by the fistful while listening to that really creepy song "If I Die Young." I mean, it actually is catchy and I actually do know all of the words and it mayyyy be on repeat right now, but that doesn't change the fact that it is pretty morbid. "I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger" Really?! Um...ok then. Not too much to say to that one. Anyways, since this is an intro post I will introduce myself. I'm Courtney. There ya go. The rest will come up I'm sure. I have a tendency to be quite wordy.