To my Blog Followers

Hello all! Wanted to drop a short note and let you know I've recently moved my blog to a new place. It is called Chic in Shambles and you can find it here: http://www.chicinshambles.blogspot.com/

If you liked anything you read here I'd love for you to follow my journey in a new place! Perhaps you will find a little more love for the blog world this way. 

Thank you for the awesome times with Life of Shelby Leigh and perhaps one day we will meet here again : )

Peace! 

Whats new and whats next

It has been some time since my last blog... and frankly that's because I've been crazy busy. Not that it is an excuse, but it is my excuse. 

So here is the dealio with the realio. I am now doing marketing for two boutiques (one in Lubbock and one online in Austin) along with doing the marketing and dabbling in writing for a magazine in Austin. Yes, I waisted no time sitting around when I left life back in the LBK. 

And I'll also say that at first this made me spaz out. Yes, in two weeks I have already had at least 20 mental break downs about my future and where my life is going to go. In my mind there was only one place for my future, down the huge drain of failure. Duh! 

It wasn't until I listened to Man Repeller speak at a SXSW panel that things finally started to make sense. 

Good thing I have said that before... but clinch your teeth. This is about to be great.

She delved into her life as a blogger. Told those of us on the lowly totem-pole of fashion how blogging is the new thing, and fashion is no longer made by the people in magazines but by the opinions of the blogging world. Obviously this means only one thing. I shall be a blogger and be the best blogger there ever was!

Yeah right. 

Clearly I'm not that cool. But what I did realize is that I really like blogging, and more than that I really like fashion. Though I am not a fashionista. There is no way for me to write about the lavish fashion shows when the closest my butt will ever be is the front row of the parking lot (on the non restricted pavement). so there needs to be another route. 

And then it dawned on me again! The thing I have always been really good at is starving myself for fashion. I am a lover of the arts and a liver of the slums. I swoon over lavish items, not because the brand makes it worth it but because I have such high regards for these artist. 

On the flip side I was never a socialite. My family doesn't come from the upper east side and I don't plan on playing like I do. 

My new project is to bring the thoughts of a chic in shambles. I don't know how cool this will be, or if anyone will even care. But as long as there are keys to peck away at on my lap top I plan to blog about it.


Oh, and before my blog is up you can always get the inside look with my Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, (click for links) and Instagram: Chicinshambles!

This is only going to work if you love me as much as I love you! 

What do we make of it?

Lets just take a moment to examine this photo. At least that's what I did while walking around Town Lake with Jeremy yesterday. So there I was examining this wonderful view of rustic trees and green grass mingling with reaching modern building... and kind of freaking out. 

That's right, after all this moving and making these great new plans I'm all but content. 

"I AM FREAKING OUT!" 

When Michael did that in an episode of The Office and declared bankruptcy his problems were gone. Okay, they weren't really. But I wish they were because then I would feel like my problems were gone.

You are probably thinking that I'm a hot mess express. Thinking this would make you correct. I know I'm living in one of the most beautiful cities (not just by my standards but by some very credibly magazines as well) and I am sitting at home all day on Pinterest and Facebook. I am fully aware these are things most people would pay a lot of money to do. 

It just isn't me. Or at least what I am used too. Not because I don't enjoy what I'm doing. I have enjoyed this new journey more than expected. But that is why I am feeling these things. Thinking about how this future of mine could pan out into a life of joy compared to how it could end in a pit of fire is really scary. 

Don't get me wrong. Seeing this wonderful lake was not what brought on all of these fears. No, the clear water and perfectly sculpted people jogging along on that fine Thursday morning so content with their lives they don't even need to bother doing work during the regularly scheduled hours of 9 to 5 were in no way taunting my perhaps deemed future. 

Part of my fear came with the move from Lubbock. Where I left two solidly paying jobs and a roof over my head. The other came when I made a visit to H and R Block the evening before. My dad told me we needed to do my taxes. A joyous occasion seeing that in the past it means I would get some of that tip money so wrongfully taken from me back! Not this time... No no. This time I paid $39.99 for them to tell me that taking 20 hours of classes and working three jobs caused me to owe $2.00. But they don't take $2.00 charges so I also needed to pay $3.50 JUST to meet the minimum pay.  

Yes, these are the reasons I am freaking out. How am I ever supposed to survive in life? Nothing is panning out!  

See, I'm not taking the conventional way towards things, I'm not even taking a real way towards things in most peoples books. For many this uncomfortable, unknown journey is what ends in success... but that doesn't mean I'm going to be one of them. I have no guarantee but the diploma Texas Tech gave me. And unless I can beat someone over the head hard enough to knock them into giving me life long benefits and security I am going to have to take a leap into that brisk blue water. 

Metaphorically of course. What I mean is that I need to take a leap and dive into this life in front of me. In the end I guess it does make more sense to try and fail than to sit around and watch it pass me by. That only guarantees failure right?

The first day of a new thing

So there I was all packed up and ready to go. My life in Lubbock coming to an end, and a new thrilling experience awaiting me on the other side of this windy, dust filled road ahead. Yes, this is what real life is. This is the definition of adulthood.

I'm moving back in with my parents!

Here I am 21 and living the life. Recently quit my job with a news station that thought I was a bigger joke than a stand up comedy convention. And begged my wonderful boss at the boutique to hold onto me from all those miles away. My journey hasn't been the easiest one, and frankly what I'm doing now could be just another bumpy road, but for once in my life I feel good about my driving capabilities. Though my father who has worked on my cars and witnessed my wrecks would perhaps disagree. 

Though this feeling did not come without haste... and tears... and anxiety... and any other heart wrenching feeling your mind can muster. No no, this journey of mine has been filled with quite a bit of kicking and screaming. Questioning my decisions. Having flash visions of my future (I was looking real slick standing under an overpass with a trash bag on my head).

Did you know that packing up your room which has accumulated junk for three years isn't easy? It is the exact opposite. Who needs 5 deodorants? I don't want to see another scarf ever again. That nice TV, might as well chunk it. But don't think about touching the clothes! I need all 240 items of fabric hanging in my closet. DUH!

But as comical as this whole process seems looking back, it really was quite a sad thing. See, most people pack up and leave right after graduation. All their family is there helping with the move. They are still stoked from walking that stage, and the empty diploma spool in their hand is all they need to conquer the universe! 

That isn't the case when you are knee deep in a dead end career, graduated a year early but feel a year behind in life, and can't reach the boxes your dad stuffed in the attic two years ago. 

It was sad. Sad to turn off my light to an empty room. Sad to toss that last box in my car. Sad to hug my roommates goodbye. Sad to pull away from the trashy Cottages for the last time (it is true, I will miss those broken bottle filled streets and neglected office calls). And what was even more sad... the six hour Taylor Swift concert I performed in my car while crying to the most ridiculous lines in her songs. 

"But if God forbid fate should step in and force us into a goodbye, if you have children some day when they point to the pictures please tell them my name."

YUP! Bawled like a baby. Not because my friends have kids. Not because I am a famous singer and clearly this song relates to me. But because this is real life. This was the last time I will LIVE in that house with those girls. I have had my last night of Bachelor watching, and my last day of bumming around. There is no longer a need to distract people from homework and convince them that no class attendance policy is more important than hanging out with me. No more drunk knocks on my door at 4 a.m., and never will I witness another cake ball pillow being thrown at the most hungover member of 2023 C. These things will not happen again. 

I understand it is a part of growing up. It came as no shock that I would one day move on. But something I didn't take into consideration was that when it happened, it didn't mean everything would be set in stone. This journey I'm embarking on could easily lead me back to square zero, or it could be just crazy enough to work. Either way, I can say one thing for certain... I am 21 and have it all figured out.

YEAH RIGHT!

Here's to a selfish good deed

In order to be selfless I will be completely selfish with today's good deed. I am a firm believer of saying how you feel. I am also a firm believer that what you don't say will stick with you forever. I have spent my whole life not saying things, and the same amount of time dwelling on them. It is a huge problem. One part of this problem reared it's nasty head at me today, and I am here to beat it with my "Just say it" stick!

Here I am questioning this person who I care so strongly about if he even cares for me at all. And as much as I hate to admit it, I know the reason. The reason drives a red Jeep and lives in Lubbock. The reason is my "ex". I use the quotations because when all was said and done it was quite evident we were never even dating, therefore he can not be a real ex.

But that is the thing. Someone who I meant absolutely nothing too put a prick in my side that has left me walking more bent over than the worst hangover of all times (Cactus I will always love you even if nights with you means morning with my head in the sink) and even worse, it is effecting perhaps the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me. But don't get excited if you are reading this "ex", which I know you are not because you never read anything of mine. It has nothing to do with you personally, just the situation at hand. And that I'm a girl. Did you know girls have this horrible trait of never letting things go? It goes great with our new heels and cute dresses...

So today I will say all the things I wanted to say the night you told me I was not good enough for you. I will say all the things I chose to hold in because frankly I am good enough. I see it in myself and I see it in the way he looks at me.


Dear "ex",

It is me, the girl who was not good enough. I am here to return your unintentional lies and discerning looks. The greatest of them being that comment: "You are not good enough." Of course you did not say the words, no no, you always let me do the talking after all. I had to ask you if I was not good enough and you answered with a simple "No." Perhaps my piles of food for your friends did not suffice? Was it the races I sat for hours alone at only for you to forget I was there when talking to other runners? We wouldn't want anyone knowing you were stringing me along after all. Or was it that I thought I could help? Silly me for thinking the times you said you liked me and that you were over your fiance were true.

Of course I know the real reason. I completely understand that it was my fault. For listening to you talk about the house in Colorado we would have together. For being okay with you inviting me to meet your parents after just a few weeks (anyone who knows me even the slightest bit knows that is NOT OKAY in my book). And when you freaked out, it was my bad for crying and waiting around, telling you it did not have to be the same. Yes, that was indeed my fault. But honestly, what is a girl to do when she decides for the first time to just let go and see what happens.

But "ex", I'm not using this letter you will never read to make you feel small or give you a thought that I am not over you. No, that is indeed not the case. I just want you to know that perhaps next time you string someone along, or use someone as your quick fix you will word things differently.

See it wasn't that I was not good enough for you. It was that we were not good enough for each other. You do triathlons, I grew up thinking bikes should stay on the side walk or risk getting hit. You wear running shorts on a daily basis, I dress like I live in New York. You are 6 foot 6 and I am 5 foot 2. Lets be honest, it looked like I was getting kidnapped every time we were together. You would be completely content tucked away on a mountain forever, I have dreams bigger than any cabin could fulfill. You were broken and confused, you left me broken and confused.

Yet in all honesty, I hope you find someone who can be all those things. It is the best feeling in the world to know there is someone who fits you perfectly. In your case they will ride a tandem bike with you off into the sunset. And they will buy you those energy gel packets I never could seem to understand. They will be tall and you wont have to lean down to your knees to kiss them. One day I hope that you can be just as happy as I am because as scary as relationships are, they feel so good when they are right.

yours no longer,
Shelby


Well, I feel better. But really I did not write that condescending letter to feel better. I know it sounds bitter, because it is. Though that bitter feeling does not come from me being angry with him, it comes from me being angry with myself. Before David I was really good at being alone. Even better, I was really good at blocking people out. When he showed up all tall and important enough to be interviewed I let myself slip, like we all do at some point in time. But what I liked about him was the idea of him being the perfect person.

It was not until he was gone that I understood he was not my person. My person had been here all along. He is the person I know is there for me. The person who will read this entire post, then tell me it is wonderful (hopefully at least...) even though it is about someone else. He is the one that when today I tried to curl back up into my shield of protection broke down the wall. He hasn't let me go, and frankly I hope he doesn't. He is my person, my Jerbear, my guy.

So here is to not letting the fears from someone who means nothing keep you from being as blissful as you can with the person who means everything.

So remember when I said I'd do good deeds...

Turns out good deeds are hard to do. Not only do you have to find a noble way to do them, but then you have to be willing to write about them. Seeing that I primarily write to myself on here I didn't think it would be that difficult when I started this short lived journey of good deeding. So over the past few weeks of my absence I will say good deeds have been done... but they will not be talked about. Due to personal conflict or lack of luster they will be locked in the vault of silence.

On that note I will say there is one worthy of mentioning. As I sat pondering my thoughts at T.C. Ellis one morning a man walked in. He made a comment about not having money but quickly disputed my look of fear by saying he was not asking for money. See, when people ask for money at TCE (oh yeah, I shorten the name of the boutique to feel cool. NBD.) I want to help them but I don't know how.

This man I could help, kind of. All he wanted was some of the free candy we have at the front desk. I gladly told him he could take as much as he wanted. Selectively running his hand through the jars he explained that he had never been in this position before, he went to church every Sunday, and didn't even like candy but wasn't going to be picky.

As he walked away, pocket full of unsatisfying snickers, I thought to myself: how great would it be if next time he came in I could slip something else in the jar.

Honestly Shelby? How would you ever pull that off?

I wouldn't know he was coming, so what? Tell him to close his eyes and put something else in the jar while he stood there? Good try crazy but your good deeds are not working out! And on top of that I couldn't get him out of my mind. It's like he was that person sent here for me to help and I chicken out. Good going idiot!

And then I was reminded of second chances.

Walking into The Overton to have a lavish drink with some good friends that night I was distracted by a familiar looking jacket.

Eureka! It was him! My candy guy! Or so I thought... It looked like him. He was sitting on a chair in the lobby and didn't seem to be waiting for anyone. This. Was. My. Chance.

Being the Overton goer that I am I knew there was a small nook where they sold little snack items over by the bar. I plopped my purse down, snatched up my brand new Tory Burch wallet (I couldn't get any more cliche) and pounced off.

Rushing to the front desk I was to declare I wanted to buy the WHOLE mass of food in that nook!

Too bad the worker was on the phone.............. Forever.

Eureka times two! My wonderful childhood friend Ryan worked in the restaurant, and thanksto my creepy tendencies I knew he did not get off Christmas so he was there. Proud of my new discovery I turned on my heels, checking quickly that my candy man was still around, and bounced to the dinning room.

There he was! All blacked out and vacuuming.

"Ryan! I need you to do something for me!"

He looked confused.

"I need to buy the things in that nook and have you give it to the homeless man."

There was only cereal. He did it, even though I was unsure if it was the right person. And then Ryan was gone. And then the guy was gone. And that was it. There is no big ending to good deeds. You do it to help someone else after all, not to make yourself feel better or show off. I'm still not even sure it he was homeless. Or if he likes cereal.

First good deed of the day

Bet you thought I was bailing on this good deed thing already. Don't worry, I wasn't. I've actually been immersed in my good deed for days.

Being my first good deed after dishing for the cause of a mission trip, and factoring in that I am broke as a joke, I decided to take this one for the team and do something for myself. I want these deeds to mean something and be big, even if it is only big in my eyes.

For two and a half years now I have liked this boy. He is a wonderful boy. The kind of guy who is always there when you need him. He says the perfect things, and even enjoys gawking over books. The good kind like Ayn Rand's The Fountain Head. And for two and a half years I let myself think he was too good for me. I watched as he dated other people, and I dated other people. We took in each others problems, and all the time I wondered what I didn't have?

This weekend I changed my mind. He came to visit me and I knew it needed to be done. For once I had to ignore the fear, that fear we all have that stops us from being happy. See, I have always been scared of relationships, and wanting to let someone in. It's really scary to know that people are going to hurt you. And that is just the thing. We all know. 

Or at least we think we know. What if we didn't? What if for once we acted like it wasn't going to happen? We were finally going to have that connection that wasn't balancing on the worlds oldest see-saw. There would be no problems, no worries, nothing but bliss.

So as we got monogrammed wine bottles, read silently with one another, danced to the over zealous music from across the street, and smiled at everything, I realized. This. Was. Right. It's as if when you finally let go of all those bad memories, all the broken pieces, it falls perfectly into place.

That boy who called back just to say he didn't like you any more, the one who left you down town, remember the one who took your car to "help someone move" more like move another girl to the movies on a date when he never even brought you to one? The one you thought you could change into liking you, And the guy who said you were not good enough after you gave him everything. Those guys stop mattering. All of the sudden you are laughing at the thought of them meaning something. Anything. 

Because in those moments you and this guy, the one who has your stomach turning and your heart pounding, you two know everything is amazing. As amazing as it can be. And anything else you do, it will be just as amazing, if not more. 

I know what you are thinking, this doesn't last. Forget that frat boy party music, this is what's over zealous! I thought that too. And I won't be shocked if the thought crosses my mind again. But that is when I have to stop myself and remember, this is different. 

I don't believe in that "can't-eat, can't-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over- the-fence, World Series kind of stuff." But I do believe in finding your best friend.And not your some-of-the-time friend. Not that guy who is awesome to go out with, pays for your meals, and kisses you goodnight like a gentleman. A best friend is the person who looks at you with content. They stick around, and when they stray they come back. You laugh more than you kiss, and you kiss a lot. He holds your hand, and remembers small details even you have forgotten. He sits at your office because you are addicted to work and couldn't miss one day. Find the person who does all of that. Find your best friend and you have found the world. 

Happy adult turkey day?

I knew this day would come, I knew it getting into this field of work. Happy holiday alone! Not that I am really alone, I will be at work and was invited to the news team orphan brunch. Yay for all of us being alone together! But even after all the prep work I had done to get myself ready to be alone on my first holiday, walking around the house in silence and working on my cute crying face, I just didn't know it would be this hard. 

So as I do on every other Thanksgiving I got up early, got breakfast, and plopped down for the parade (PJ's on and all). Did you ever notice how sad the Macy's Day Parade is? It's like the reason I am doing this is staring me in the face, and they are not with their families on Thanksgiving either! And that commercial with the solider getting off the plane? Obviously I feel his pain. The story of the football player who was taken in by his ex girlfriends family when his mom died and is now in the NFL? All the sudden he is my son and I'm crying over his accomplishments. By the way Today Show... when did you get so sentimental with your content?

Sitting at home alone I started to think, maybe this doesn't have to be so sad. Until I got on Facebook and saw my grandpa's comment on my page... who knew he could even use the thing??

But really, I don't need to be sad. See, there are a lot of things to be thankful for. Like having a job. I am thankful that I have a job in which I can make money on Thanksgiving to save up for flights home when it is not Thanksgiving. 

And I am thankful for the wonderful message I received this morning from a man who is thankful for me. I hope he knows how thankful I am for him too. Oh, and that I get to see said man in eight days!

Most of all, I am thankful that I can be thankful. That I can look back and know I had 20 years of wonderful Thanksgivings where I was surrounded by family. Where I woke up early to my mom making the salad with the water chestnuts that my uncle hates. I got to sit with my father in front of the TV and gawk at the wonderful floats and beautiful views of New York.

And I am thankful that my whole family gets to spend the day at my grandparents house where my grandpa cuts the huge turkey and my grandma sets a wonderful table. And my cousins get to fight over who is not sitting by who, and my nephew wont sit down at all only making things even more enjoyable. That I am not judged (too much) for sitting at that wonderful table hours before the food is done. 

I am thankful that my grandpa delays us eating by taking what seems like a million pictures where we all look like we are contemplating eat the camera itself. And that no one touches the fruit salad but it is there every single year because it wouldn't be a complete meal without it. And passing around the rolls, you know everyone is going to take two, except my cousin Jay... we will take 10. My sister and him will only eat three things at the table, and my uncle will fill his plate twice. 

Then after the meal my silly aunt tries to find the one and only store open in town to go shopping, not just because she loves shopping but, because she doesn't want to do dishes. And that tupperware full of leftovers we all snack on all day even though we declared none of us would ever eat again. Oh, and I am thankful for those pies my grandma makes in which we try to devour before someone else can get to them.  

See, I may be alone this Thanksgiving but there are so many more Thanksgivings I have gotten to be a part of that many people never do. And I couldn't be more thankful. 

Time for a change

Ever heard of the book Same Kind of Different as Me? I'm here to tell you if you have not... you need to educate yourself right now. 

As I turned all 237 pages of this novel I had an experience I'm not sure will ever be met. At first I was un amused. A novel where the main character wasn't a wizard? Or going to turn the good girl bad with his charm and lump sums of unnoticed money? PLEASE! A book without teens is not a book for me. 

Boy was I wrong. 

I should have known. I should have known right there my life was about to change. Of course a book was going to change my life! Every book does that. 

But this one. It was so different. 

Now, I'm going to spoil a lot for you, but it was spoiled for me too, and it still is worth every letter on every line on every page to read it. 

This novel is about a high class art dealer and a streetwalking ex-slave. Their paths cross when the art dealers more than godly wife decided he had to help at a soup kitchen because she had a calling and a dream in which one of the men (unknown at the time) changes the face of Dallas forever. BOY DID THEY!

For 200 of the 237 pages I cried. My heart wrenched as this once cheating husband helped his frail and fragile wife battle cancer. He was never a religious man, but she was. And together they prayed. They begged and pleaded for her healthy recovery, all while helping out these people who had even less than them. 

Her battle was lost, and for that night so was mine. I was torn. My tears turned into sobs, my sobs into that awful heaving sound people make when they have gotten to the point where they can no longer remember why they were crying in the first place. This woman was a saint and all because she wanted someone else to be. She had courage and strength, even when it was all taken from her. Even when there was nothing left. 

I turned the back cover over the last page and immediately began to think of all the ways I had to change the world. It obviously had to be big, and it obviously had to happen right away. 

YURIKA!! 

One of my friends who I had lost touch with over the past year was going on a mission trip and they were looking for help with the cost. Clearly I would pay it all. Let me get my check book I declared to my finally calming mind.

That piece of paper caught fire faster than a bad Harry Potter spell. My bank account was not enjoying my new  want to help the world. Really bank account? Isn't there some rule that when you are doing good no amount of money should matter?

So I settled on a little less and made peace with my first attribution to this place of help. 

But it wasn't my last one. I have now decided on a new project. From this week on I will do one gesture each seven day period. May it be sending money to an organization (that will be few and far in between... sorry heavens about but a kind of-journalist just doesn't roll in dough) or be it something to help myself, perhaps a fear I need to overcome or someone I need to forgive. Either way I will do it all over this blog. The very few people that read it will have to put up with weeks of me trying new things and I'm sure failing some, if not all, of them. I won't leave out any details and I wont tell you anything the way it did not happen.

Here goes nothing. 

You mean it doesn't have to be right now?

So here I was watching the full 40 minutes Katie Couric interview with Taylor Swift (obviously since the release of her new album her media tour has been my most searched topic) and it hit me. It was nothing that Taylor Swift said, though she did say some great things. It wasn't some epic moment where Katie asked the right question and my entire journalism career made sense. It was actually the very first thing out of Katie's mouth:

"When I was 22 I was working as a waitress..."

WHAT?? You mean to tell me you were not a well known journalist with her own show and great credentials at the age of 22? You mean to tell me Kate, may I call you Kate? That you were not flying around the world asking questions to the most well known stars and influential people? You mean your life wasn't completely figured out with every last "I" in the details singed and dotted?

And then I thought, of course it wasn't! So why do I think mine needs to be? 

See, ever sense I graduated in August I have been so focused on why my life hasn't worked itself out yet, but honestly why would it have? I'm 21 for heavens sake! I'm young and not prepared for the real world. I'm still on my parents insurance. I don't know how to wash clothes, can my red socks go with my white rug? And why do I have red socks? And I live by the motto that you NEED every article of clothing, you just have to decide which ones you want. So why if the hot mess express has broken down at platform Shelby and half a maturity level do I think my career should be that of a fabulous 45 year old?

Though this problem of trying to grow up too fast is something I think many struggle with. We spend our entire childhood trying to be bigger. We want to reach the cookie jar without any help, we want to watch the PG-13 movies at the age of 10. It is human nature to try and advance yourself before you are ready. But why?

Why are we so provoked to read the end of a book before we start the beginning? Then race through the pages like we are at the olympic track? We already know the end!

I have been very sure of a few things in my life. I know I want to be a journalist, a great one. And I know I don't ever, EVER, want to get married. But in thinking these things so surely I have begun to learn other things. 

Like, wanting to be a journalist is great, but it wont happen over night. I knew there would be years of paying dues and that they would amount to triple my student loans (if I'm lucky that will be it). But all along I have assumed it would have happened by now. Silly me. Silly all of us. I am not the only one who wants so badly to be at their ending destination. Rushing there is only going to cause us to miss the parts that truly matter though. The in between. I hate more than anyone when people say "Just enjoy the right now," please people, I want to enjoy the good times not the debt bearing sloppy days. But perhaps the good times are what we make of it.

The perfect example I can think of is a kid wanting a toy. I brought my nephew to a toy store a few weekends ago to pick out his birthday present. Here is a little insight to my nephew, he doesn't really want to have anything to do with me. He is four after all, and I am the aunt he never sees. Except this week. All week he was telling my sister and mom "I got to the toy store!" And when asked who is your best friend "Mommy, Daddy, Poncho, Aunt B." Thats right people! I'm after his smelly pug as 4th best friend! Can't beat that. 

And nothing could beat the look on his face when he was in the store. There were gum balls and cars. Rocks and guns ( which he already had two of). It was the best hour of his day... and then we left. He would hardly show my dad the toys when we got home, and I was no longer his best friend. Brayden is four, but he might be smarter than any of us. He knew that going to the toy store was not to get the toy. Lets be honest, no one wants the toy. Once you get it there is nothing left to look forward to. But when you are wanting it, when you are spending your days talking about it, planning for it, preparing yourself, gosh that toy is the ONLY thing worth living for. 

So why do we rush? Why do we not take the time to stop and smell the roses? 

I've told everyone and their mothers I didn't ever want to get married. I never wanted to be serious with someone. But what if one day I do? What if maybe I think it could be right? Well, then I get crazy. Then I KNOW it is right. I KNOW where it is heading. Right to that isle of wonderful white dresses and happily ever after. Okay, kidding. But honestly from a girls point of view this is what we do. We either know no man will love us or we are ready for those vows. Some share it less than others, or some chose to share only one side as I did for so long saying I would just take the avocado tree on my one bedroom apartment table. We have to have whatever we want right then and there.

But that is the problem. We are hot or we are cold we are never just enjoying. What if for once we just let life takes its toll? What if we waited for that toy? How much happier would we be knowing there is no end goal in sight because the end goal is to live life.

If I could do it all again

After my wonderful experience at the movies alone yesterday I have been thinking a lot about my own high school days. Looking back I remember a lot of good times, and a few bad as well. The further into my memory I got the more things I began to reconsider. I have to be honest, there are a lot of things I would have changed about those four years. Not like I wouldn't have worn that terrible stripped and polkadotted shirt. We all have those thoughts. But change as in what I did and didn't do. Who I tried to be.

Just think about it. I'm sure everyone has these things they would have done differently.

Like when it was cool to dress hoochy for themed parties and Halloween. If I could go back I wouldn't have worn that Harry Potter dress, or those bloomers and bra. I'd be that girl who wore the long skirt and oversized buttondown jacket. Instead I was the girl in the photo, minus the jacket and boobs, plus 40 pounds. It wasn't a good look. And frankly I hated dressing up like that. But lets be honest, when you are in high school and everyone is doing it you are not going to be the girl who doesn't.

And I would have stopped trying so hard to fit in where I didn't. I was always in the popular crowd but frankly, I wasn't popular. The invites were never sent to my door, instead I tagged along with friends. I was never picked to play on the drunk sand vollyball teams, I just sat and watched. When we would go to bonfires I was always the girl in the corner watching. Not in a creepy way, but kind of in a creepy way... Not that I blame the popular kids. No way, they knew how to talk and have fun, they were cool. Hence the popular title. Honestly I'm just not cut out for that. But high school isn't a place to admit it.

If I could go back I would have quit the cheer team when I had the chance. Crazy thing, but after high school no one really cares that you were senior cheer captain. Most people can't even believe I was. And who knew that professional cheerleader isn't an actual full time job. At least not one that could pay my rent and student loans. Try and tell me that in 2009 I would have thrown a fit. But it makes sense now. I can see past the pom-pom's and spirit stick. Back then that was my claim to fame, now it is just a scrapbook in my closet.

Oh, and that boy I was in love with, Ben King, I would have told him. For sure. Not that anything would have come of it, there was no way he would have been seen with me. But I would feel so much less creepy now knowing I just told him instead of memorizing every song he liked... Oh yeah... that did happened. Kings of Leon's lyrics will forever be bruned in my head, along with his yellow and orange plad shirt. He wore it with a brown puffer vest. Yeah, I'm a freak. You were warned. But in high school you crush, you don't make moves. You wish the guys would talk to you and beat yourself up inside about how un perfect you are.

That is the thing about high school, you really just aren't yourself. You don't want to stand out, and those who do are really trying to fit in too. I hate to dumb down the outcast group, I truly wish you all were the ones who marked the path. The halls would shine so much brighter. But everyone in high school is just the same. You are all fighting to fit in by standing out. If you want to be the best football player, or the darkest goth, the nerdiest nerd, or the prettiest cheerleader. In the end you are all striving for the same thing. If I could do it over though, I'd strive for my own thing.

Movie date with none other than me!

Today I went to the movies... all alone! This has been something I have wanted to do for some time now. The anticipation grew every time I would think about going through with it.

'Okay Shelby, this time you will do it. Just drive to the theater, walk up to the line, order a ticket, and you are done.'

But it never worked out. I never could go through with it. Until today.

This anticipation had been building in me since I realized Perks of Being a Wallflower was showing in Lubbock a mere 36 hours ago. I knew then, that it was the right time. This WAS the perfect movie. See, I just finished reading the book, and falling in love.

I have a habit of being taken away by the pages of a novel and this was no different. Charlie is the misfit-fit in that I can correlate with. And who doesn't love a good high school story? I know I do!

So back to the movies. This experience was going to be one I never forget. I told myself this as I drove up to the theater an hour early. Don't think I was taking this opportunity to be different. No no, I wanted to be my true self, which includes getting everywhere early. For the theater it was a bit too early.

They were closed... awkward.

I waited. Finally getting my ticket I mad a pit stop for the restroom (knowing I wouldn't be interrupting this experience) and found my seat. By the way, movies at 1:30 have maybe five people in them. Glorious.

The next two hours were spent in a frenzy of self-loving, self-loathing, and self-respect. For the first time ever I was experiencing a movie alone. It was thrilling! Every scene was captivating, the movie as a whole was all I had to worry about.

You don't realize how much you try to impress other when seeing a movie. Am I sitting up straight so my date thinks I'm cute? Why won't he hold my hand? Should I laugh right now or will my friends think I'm dumb? My hand... if I put it closer to the cup holder will he hold it? Should I pee or wait so no one has to move? Jesus! Just hold my hand!

All these thoughts are demolished when alone. I laughed, I cried, I crossed and uncrossed my legs with ease. It was a beautiful thing!

Though this experience would have never been the same if not for the movie I saw. Let me tell you something, Perks of Being a Wallflower may be one of my top five films of all time. And frankly, I don't watch movies so that is a big thing to say. It's captivating message carries you back to a time where you can relate. I had heard the novel brought people out of depression, acted like a friend, but I didn't understand the full effect until comparing both. It was simply a beautiful thing.

I sauntered out of the movie fresh and a bit sad. Sad the experience was over, sad that I can no longer say I will see my first movie alone, and frankly sad by the movies message. But that was a good sad.

This time last year

Ever had that moment where you think to yourself "Wow this time last year,"?

Today was one of those days for me.

I was just sitting on my computer in Starbucks typing away when I decided to see what was going on in the wonderful world of Facebook. There it was, smack dab in my face. A status wishing those Kona goers luck. 

This time last year I was diving face first into my first article. I was spending every night and all day making the lead perfect. Being told no over and over by my wonderful professor Patrick, and collaborating with Laura about making this story perfect. 

This time last year I was also balancing an internship and school. Nothing compared to the events that would follow. The months I had ahead would test my patience, skills, and sleeping regime. But not this time. This time I was working on my first article to run in the school newspaper. 

That time last year I thought this was a really really big deal. And It is. It will forever be my first article. But it wont be my last. 

Now I understand that you need time to breathe. That big things will happen when they should in my career. I was doing a lot back then. I still do. But at this time this year I see the need for a break. And I see the need not to break. To give yourself some room to grow and move. The problem with putting so much structure in your life even taking time for a breath will put your plans off track.

This time last year I still enjoyed a drink. I would go out with my friends. Though not as often, I still made the trek out with that scary looking fake I.D. I wanted to be a journalist, but I wanted to be a college student still too. Now I don't. Now I am not. This time last year I was still a youth, still able to mess up and go to my parents. Still allowed to make mistakes that did not curse my future.

And on this very day last year I was running into my house screaming that I had met the man of my dreams. So this time last year my roommates thought I was crazy. Because I was crazy. "Guys!" I gushed. "I have met the only guy I will consider marrying. He is engaged... but that is okay. Now I know why I will forever be alone." I still am crazy. But this was the day I began my journey to find out what feelings are. 

There I walked into the bike shop to meet the subject of my story. I looked up to see it. I say it because at that very moment I didn't know what to call him. I didn't know his name. And frankly he was really tall, like a long lanky attractive limb.

This time last year I was falling. funny thing is, this time this year I'm falling again. On this day this year I'm thinking of someone so wonderful. I'm thinking not seeing because he is far away. Someone who I sat on the phone with for hours last night. He is helping me find myself and the great person I can become. He is someone who I count the days to see. Someone so great again I am left with no words. 

It is funny how a year will change you. This time last year I thought I had it all figured out. This time this year I know I do, but I love the mess I'm in and the journey I am taking.

Home

I went home last weekend. Want to know something they don't tell you when filling out college applications and getting ready to run wild on your own journey? You are going to miss home. Maybe not right at the beginning. Maybe not even until you are out of school and on your own. But one day, you will miss home. 

You will miss the smells. Every house has one. You will miss your parents. They really do get greater in time. Or maybe you get a little wiser and realize how great they have always been. Shoot, I even missed the horrible Austin traffic. Listen people... there is no way you are getting to work by 9 (or even noon) if you leave at 8. Austin has gotten so packed! But I miss it none the less.

I miss my old hang outs. I miss knowing things were secure. I could mess up and someone would be there to help me. Or better yet, someone would be there to take blame with me. 

Home is such a wonderful place and I took advantage of it for so long. 

We all do though. That is the point of home. It is where no one can judge you. And when they do it is all in good fun. Home is where your family is. It is where your first friends were made. Where your grandparents go to rest. Home is the place you can't change, and you shouldn't want too. 

As I travel further away from my home I see more and more how wonderful it is. Knowing you can't just go home, pick up for the weekend because that math test was hard. Or decide you don't want to spend fall break drinking so you jump on the next flight your parents bought you. When you can't go home you want to go home even more. 

It wasn't clear how much I truly missed home until this time. Grasping for every last second I realized there was nothing I could do. I am now on the journey of making my own home. But in my own home my mom doesn't fold all my clothes for me. Or search Whole Foods high and low for those vegan brownies. My grandparents don't slip me money as I walk out the door. And I don't get to sit on their couch listening to them debate politics. When you make your own home it isn't filled with your fathers loud voice, or your sisters crazy antics. Your own home is different because it is yours. 

But I don't want my own home. I want to go back to the old one. I want to lay on my couch when I'm sick with the softest pillow in the house. We know it is the softest because we tested them all. And I want to be told I'm staying out too late. I love that my mom will be sitting up waiting for me when I get home from that party. 

So there I was, an hour into a 30 minutes drive to the airport and I was freaking out. Mainly because I don't like being late. And showing up to the airport an our and 30 minutes before a flight is late by my standards. But also because I knew I would make it. And most of me didn't want too. I didn't want to leave. The more times I leave home the longer it will be before I'm back again. 

And I just really miss home. 

DAY SIX: Pick the one who will dance

It is day six, and in the most cliche of ways I have saved the best for last. There was great reason for doing this. You will understand as I explain.

Girls are hopeless romantics. I don't care how you twist it, or what you say. Even I, the greatest of all believers that you can be happy alone, deep down in a crevice of my dusty unused sole love romance. I do cry at sappy love stories (just not where people can see me), and some time... HOLD YOUR BREATH... think the idea of having an unconditional love would be the best thing ever.

Friends, please don't die. I know this is a shock to all. Frankly it was a shock to me too. But recently I have learned something about feelings. Once you have them there is nothing much you can do about it. 

But here is the thing with being a hopeless romantic. We often times settle in order to make ourselves feel that joy. News flash ladies, that isn't the joy you want to feel. 

I hate to bring this conversation to an MTV show. But never have I been more sure of something than on the last episode of Awkward. Clearly I watch the show, my life motto is the title after all. 

So there Jenna is sitting on her new found hotties lap. She ask him to dance and he says he doesn't dance. How ironic she looks at her former flame to see him having a blast with her best friend on the dance floor. And of course, because it is TV, her mom had earlier told her to always choose the one who dances. 

As goofy as it is, this is such a true statement. Why would you ever choose something differently? 

I have found a dance partner. Really though, he said he can't wait to dance with me. Poor guy doesn't know what a horrible dancer I am. Though giggling to myself while reading that message I felt like dancing with him wont be as embarrassing. With him every day is a dance. 

It is so easy to settle and make excuses for someone else. "He is so sweet, yeah he doesn't act like I exist, but does that really matter?" Or "He may ditch me 9 times out of 10, but that one time we do see each other, it is so special."

I hate to break it to you, but that isn't special. There is someone out there who is special. He will send you flowers from Spain in hand written letters. He will defy odds with others to see you, even before you know he cares. He will listen to your every fear, doubt, and happy thought. And he will love them all. Just him being himself will show you the reason you settled for so many others in the past. It was simply to know everything you wanted, and to see them in him so clearly. 

Now, don't think I'm saying this will be some cake walk. Every song changes tempo. But when you find that guy who makes the dance worth dancing, even the hard times will feel bearable. 

There have been many of nights I've cried over boys. Thanks dad for reminding me that you in fact did not take Kevin O'connell hunting before he shattered my 10th grade heart (you have always been good at consoling girls). But those are nights you are crying for yourself and your loss. I'm not saying you wont cry, you will. But crying for someone else, for something they are going through, or something y'all face together is nothing short of beautiful. For once you are not crying alone. 

I would like to make it clear that this is not someone you find with the snap of a finger. Not at all. you always hear stories that once you give up on the wrong one the right one just comes along. I'm sure this happens. But not always. It took me two years to realize my dance was right in front of me. And it took him just as long. Though two years really isn't that long when you don't have to fear someone leaving you in the middle of a song. Two years is nothing when you finally see how perfect someone can be. Not to the whole world, but to you. 

There is someone who you will never make an excuse for. You will never need to tell your roommates he couldn't come because he was busy, when really he wasn't at your graduation because he didn't care. There is someone who spends his days enjoying your talks, not someone you quadruple text just to get an "Okay" out of. There is someone who will guide you every step of the way, he won't leave you guessing the next move. 

He is out there. He is someone I am seeing in 2 days. He is my someone who will dance.