Never underestimate the value of a smile..

I guess I should begin by stating that I absolutely hate driving in the city.

I'm a very anxious person. Always have been, probably always will. The older I get, the more I learn to keep some of that anxiety at bay. Things as odd as going to the chiropractor have actually helped. I found out that my neck sort of grows in the opposite direction from what it should. It drastically leans forward, instead of tilting back. This apparently causes all my little neurons and such to have to strain to reach my brain stem. I found out that this can actually cause people to be highly anxious. Perhaps it's merely the placebo effect, but I do feel like my anxiety level has gone down several notches in the three weeks of adjustments I've had with Dr. Greg.

However, I'm straying off course.

The point is...I'm anxious. And driving in the city is not a good thing for anyone who is naturally a nervous person. Don't get me wrong: I enjoy driving. Put me out in the middle of nowhere with a full tank of gas and plenty of time, and I'll be happier then a kid in a candy store. I love back roads, feeling the wind on my face, and looking at country homes and wildlife.

But driving in Louisville is not...and i repeat, NOT...like driving around my old stomping grounds in Anderson County.

It's hectic, and it's busy. People don't use turn signals, drive in whatever lane they feel like whenever they feel like...sometimes even all of them at the same time! Drivers can be rude. They'll ride your tail and then honk at you if you hit the breaks, as if you are the one in the wrong. Some roads have weird traffic lights, and these lanes can change depending on the time of day it is. Granted, I'm sure most of you are familiar with what I'm talking about. If you've never drove in Louisville, you've probably driven in Lexington, or Chicago, or LA..or okay...pretty much anywhere. :)

Some day's are worse then others. Some times are worse then others, but inevitably if you've ever been in a car in a large city you know what I'm talking about.

And some people can handle that....but..

Have i mentioned I'm an anxious person? ;)

----
My day has been extremely hectic. I had an orientation for my graduate program at 10:45 this morning. I'm fairly familiar with U of L's campus, so I figured I'd leave my  house about 10:00 am. That'd get me to school by a quarter after. Sometimes parking can be crazy, so that'd give me plenty of time to find a place to park.

Well, it was even more crazy then I thought. Welcome Week was also this week, so the parking lot was full. By 10:25 I'm still circling the garage looking for a spot. Finally I nab one on the roof, and head down to orientation.

That went well. I had my phone on vibrate because I obviously didn't want it to ring while i was in orientation. However, I was expecting a call. My boyfriend and I recently signed up for Direct TV and it was to be installed today. I'd been told to expect a call sometime between 12 and 4 letting me know that my technician was on the way. The plan was that whenever he called me, I'd text my boyfriend so that Charlie would know to be up to let the guy in. He works third shift, so ordinarily he'd be sleeping until 4 pm.

By 1:00 I'm making my way back to the parking garage and still no phone call. I had a chiropractor appointment at 2, so I figured I'd run home and change into my Adidas before making my way to the St. Matthews area. In the process of leaving the garage, I nearly got nailed twice by the same person. It all goes back to that bad driving things. For some reason people feel the need to go 55 in our schools parking garage. What surprised me was that this wasn't even a student. It was obviously a parent, his wife in the passenger seat and their prospective U of L'er in the backseat. After nearly running over me as I pulled out of my parking spot, he then proceeds to go down the wrong way and tried to hit me again as we crossed paths on a lower level. And of course, I'm the one in the wrong...or at least it appeared to be that way from the scowl on his face and the speed at which his mouth was moving. I'm thankful not to have been a fly on the wall, for that one.

From there I head back to our house in Germantown. Of course on the way, there was more aggrivations. A semi truck on the corner of Floyd was trying to do only Lord knows what, and no one wanted to be patient to wait for him. Then as I get on Eastern Parkway, there's people everywhere cutting in and out of traffic. By the time I got to Reutlinger, I was emotionally exhausted.

I get home, only to see the Direct TV truck parked and our front door wide open. Apparently Stu, our lovely tech, didn't bother to call before hand. Luckily, Charlie was awake. I ran in, changed shoes, and then I was off again.

Heading out to St. Matthews, no real drama, just lots and lots of traffic. I'm still not sure what was going on today to cause so many to be out and about in the middle of the day. None the less, I made it there and back by 2:30.

And at 2;30, when I get home? The Direct TV tech is STILL at our house. Of course I felt terrible for Charlie. He probably got at most 2 hours of sleep, and then had to go to work at Zappos for ten hours. It's going to be a long, long, long day for him.

The hour long installation turned into a 2 and a half hour long installation. I won't complain though. Our  tv is up and running great.

Just when I thought my day was over, I found out that my student loan money had come in. As much as I hated getting back out, I wanted to go ahead and make a deposit into my bank and pay the rent, which we were a couple weeks behind on.

So back out into the mad world I go again. This time a drive down Bardstown road. I hate Bardstown road with a deep and burning passion. It's hectic, it's confusing, and not only do you have nutty drivers to deal with you have crazy pedestrians, and bike riders who feel extremely entitled to do as they please.

And I don't have air in my car. And it's hot. So there's that. And even though I've lived in Louisville awhile, I'm still directionally challenged at times. Thankfully, my phone has GPS on it.

Except my phone recently updated and my GPS system changed. So today was the first time I had to use it. Let's just say it didn't go so well.

I got to the bank. But then I needed to get to our landlords house, which is in St. Matthews off Westport Road.

For some reason my gps system took me in the general vacinity, but failed to direct me to his address. It was close but no cigar. I managed to reset it and find myself there, but I was irritated none the less. Of course, what can i say? Technology is only as good as the person using it. Need I say more?

By the time I drop of rent, and get back in my car, i'm set. I know how to get home. Shouldnt be a problem. Of course, some flying insect has decided to make himself an unpaying passenger in my car. So now I'm trying to grip my steering wheel with one hand and navigate back out to Westport Road without being killed, and I'm trying to shew Mr. Fly out of my face with the other hand.

Guh.

By this time, i'm just absolutely wore out. And it dawns on my I havent eaten. As much as I don't want to stop anywhere, I realize that I've got the shakes. I have a tendency to have low blood sugar, so I really have to watch that.

I decide I'll just run in the drive through at Wendys. I'll get a milkshake and be home in less then ten minutes. I got into the parking lot easily enough, I place my order, I pay and then ..

And then? I cant get out. Bardstown road is flying. I'm not about to try try to get out there. I roll into reverse, drive around to the other other side and plan on pulling out onto Grinstead. That's the better way to go anyway, for me to get home.

But now, I've got cars coming at me. I need to cross traffic to take a left. The left lane is empty, but the right lane is crazy.

If I could have crumpled up into a little ball of tears at this moment, I would have. I'm hot, I'm tired, I'm ready to be home.

And that's when it happened.

A man in a huge red pickup truck approached me from my right, and as if he could sense how utterly soul crushed I was...he..simply...stopped.

He smiled at me and waved me on. I glanced to my left and it was good. So i gunned it and turned sharply to my left. As i passed him, He smiled again and nodded his head. I frantically waved at him. Honestly, he probably thought I was a nutcase. My hair frazzled from the humidity, sweat pouring down my cheeks, and a psychotic smile plastered on my face. Oh well.

All i know is that made my day. I made it home, parked and came inside. Exhausted but with a mood much brighter then it had been an hour before.

Never forget the power of a good deed. I think that's a lesson we all should learn. In spite of our busy lives, and crazy schedules, we really should take the time to do something little for someone else. Friend, foe or stranger, it matters not. You never know what kind of day someone is having, and maybe that will be the little boost that they need to finish it out.

Never underestimate the value of a smile. It means more then you can ever know.

words

The sun's gonna rise again
Beginnings come from another's end.
There's gonna be anger and pain and tears
Life is full of irrational fears
Shut the door on the past and walk away
you can look back, just don't stay.
Take the lessons and move towards the light
Sometimes you walk out of the ring losing the fight.
There can be no rainbows without the rain
No healing occurs without some pain.
Change can't happen if you don't want to change.

Sometimes we break, only to be rebuilt
Things aren't always straight and narrow, you gotta look with a tilt.
Black and white is not realistic
and pretending it is simply wont fix it.
We put on our blinders, we walk in a line
In paving our own way, we're afraid to fall behind.
but sometimes that's exactly where we should be
from way in the back, the truth you can see.
A long perspective is necessary
Drop the baggage, it's not something to carry.
even a carry on is needed so rarely.

Watch the fight,
enjoy the flight
try with all your might
to take a bite
of the life
you'd like
to lead.

Past mistakes
help to make
you take
your foot of the break
so that you can escalate
into the person who you could be.

A New Chapter: the horizon's in the distance

In exactly 20 days, I will start a new chapter in my life: graduate school.

To be honest, I don't think I'd ever make it this far. Sure, I'd talked on and off about the possibility of getting my Masters, but I've never had any real sense of direction. In high school, I made good grades. I went to college because that is what you are supposed to do. I majored in Art, because I enjoyed in and I figured if I had to spend four more years being educated I should at least enjoy it. Besides, "they" always said you should just get a degree. It didn't seem to matter what it was in.

Four years later, I had a nice fancy piece of paper that said I was an expert in Fine Arts, as well as in Educational Ministries. I had double majored at the last minute, because I didn't see the point in a minor. What would a minor do for me exactly? I enjoyed Theology, I was at a Southern Baptist university and I had made good grades in all my required Theology courses..so why not?

And then off into the real world I went. I quickly found out that "they" were wrong. Having two degrees was impressive, but that didn't get me any great job. I bounced around from one hourly paid job to another, never making much money and never finding a niche.

Once out of the religious bubble of a Christian school, I found myself disillusioned with the church. Never with God, mind you. Never with Jesus. But with christians. I discovered that so many of us want to talk a great talk, but don't walk our faith. I'm just as guilty, but I've always tried my hardest to simply be myself. I don't pretend that I'm perfect, and I do NOT judge others for their imperfections. None of us are righteous, and all are sinners. So really, who are we to judge one another?

But that's not what this blog is about, so I digress. The point is in becoming so unglued from church, I knew I'd never work for one. So  my educational ministry degree served very little purpose. Other then it was a reminder that I have a genuine heart for people. I will always want to serve. Since I was a little girl, I've been the "listener", the "therapist". But what did that mean?

My art degree? Well...i've never wanted to teach. And I'm no Monet. So what does one do with that? I discovered along the way the therepeutic side of art. The healing potential it has, not only for the one doing it but for those that look at it. So now what?

I decided to look into Art therapy. And that brought me to U of L. They have one of the only art therapy programs in the state, and I live in Louisville. It only made sense to check into it. Turns out I was missing a lot of prerequisites. The cheapest and fastest way to get around this was to enroll as an undergrad yet again. So i began my journey in January of 2011.

Psychology became my major, and for two full semesters I lived, breathed and ate psychology. However, the more I looked into it, I still felt disconnected. It seemed so focused, so final, so closed off.

Upon the urging of a good friend, I made an appointment to speak with someone in the Social Work office. Within ten minutes, my whole scholastic life had been turned upside down. The woman that I spoke with was one of the deans of the Kent School, and she highly advised me to apply for graduate school for a Masters of Science in Social work. With this degree, I'd be able to work towards becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, this would allow for me to see patients as a Therapist and I'd be billable for Medicare/Medicaid. This is a good thing, as anyone who's ever worked in billing knows.

Not only that, but the spectrum of Social Work is so much more open. A social worker says that there's more to a person's problem then just state of self. Psychology is very inward. You are who you are because of who you are. Social Work says that you are who you are because of a culmination of things...how you were raised, where you were raised, who you were raised by. This speaks more to the idea of holistic treatment. I'm a firm believer in that. There are so many factors that contribute to our personality and to our sense of self. It's important to look at the bigger picture to see cause and effect.

Not only that, but social workers get their hands dirty. They aren't paid billions of dollars to sit in an office and treat the wealthy. They are working with every aspect of human kind. The poor, the homeless, single parents, wards of the state. Social workers do not see race, nor wealth. they don't judge based on religion or creed. They are simply there to help. It doesn't matter who you are or where you come from, they are there to help.

Please don't get me wrong I'm not saying that Psychologists or Psychiatrists don't do this as well, I'm just saying that more often then not it's the Social Workers who are really in the trenches.

And well, I've realized that's where I want to be.

I've still got so much to learn. I'm not coming at this with any sort of background. I've sorta been in left field for much of the game. It's exciting and overwhelming all at the same time. And because there are so many opportunites and the door is open so wide within this area, I'm still not quite sure where I'll find myself at the end of my two year study. However, that's the beauty of the program. I'll get to work with a variety of people, learn a variety of skills and hopefully through the combination of education and experience I'll have a better idea at the end which direction I'll be going in.

At least I know what road I'm walking on now and that in itself is quite a relief. For so long I've just wandered aimlessly with no real end in sight. It's nice to see the horizon in my sight.

Breed Specific Legislation is a joke

Meet Tank. Probably the best dog in the world. Obviously, I may be a little biased, but I don't know...he is pretty awesome. He is my baby. Okay, so no I didn't give birth to him. And truth be known if you want to get technical about it he isn't even mine. He was originally saved by my boyfriend's ex girlfriend. While they were together, he became the light of my boyfriend's life. When they split up, losing the dog was a pretty devastating blow for Charlie. However, about three years ago, she asked Charlie if he'd take him. Tank had bounced around from home to home for a while, because she'd been unable to keep him. Charlie didn't even have to think about it.

Flash forward to a few years later...and now, I consider him my baby. He snuggles with me at night. He gives me kisses when I need them, and even when I don't. He's never far from my side and even though he is probably one of the sweetest dogs in the world, people tend to be scared of him. Sometimes that's to my advantage. Especially, on night's that Charlie works.

And don't get me wrong, if he ever thought for a second that someone was trying to harm either Charlie or I, I have no doubt in my mind he'd eat your face off. But for the most part he's simply content to lick it off.

It's sad to me the misconception people have about Bully breeds. Tank is a red nosed American Pit Bull.  He's 80 some lbs, strong as an ox and has a head as big as one. Sure, I can understand the trepidation around him. A person should always have a healthy fear of a dog. But that's of any dog. Statistically speaking, did you know that the Golden Retriever is more of a perpetrator then a Pit? Yup. Bite for bite, the Golden has been the cause of more dog bite accidents. Yet, Pit Bulls will get euthanized in a heart beat because they are such "aggressive" dogs.

I hate to break it to you, but any dog can be aggressive. I bet even Lassie could be mean if she wanted to. A dog is going to treat you as he's been treated. If you beat a dog, or starve a dog, or train a dog to attack people, then you should not be surprised if one day it bites someone. On the other hand, if you provide that same dog with love and compassion, then you'll get that back ten fold.

The true crime does not lie within the animal, but rather within it's owner. And that's a real shame. Why don't we euthenize all the bad owners? That makes more sense to me. (I mean, okay...not really, but you get what I'm saying.) You put down a dog because it's a "bad dog", and yet the only crime that dog committed was that fate allowed him in the wrong hands. That same owner is going to do the same thing to another dog and another dog and another dog.

We do not blame a victim if he or she is raped. It's not their fault that someone violates them against their will. So why do we blame an innocent animal?

Recently a dog in N. Ireland was put to death simply because he was thought to be a pit bull. He'd not bit anyone, not hurt anyone, had never even acted in a way that showed aggression. Yet a committee decreed that because he fit the standards of a pit bull, he should be taken away from him home and family and killed. People have been all up in arms about this in the US. I've seen a lot of posts, blogs and websites dedicated to this atrocity.

However, need I remind you that here right in the US we're doing the same thing? In parts of Florida and Colorado, Pit Bulls are considered an illegal breed and someone so much as thinks you have one, they will come in and do the same thing.

Be informed. Get educated. And please spread the word to end Breed Specific Legislation.

Keep Swimming...

“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

― Albert Einstein

I love this particular quote. I actually gave a presentation in one of my classes last semester around this nugget of loveliness. The point I was making was that often times we perceive ourselves differently then how others view us.

In that respect, I am my own worst critic. I think I've spent much of my life ignoring the qualities that I have and instead focus on my flaws. It's only in the last few years that I've really started to accept myself for my "fishy-ness", if you will. It wasn't so much the world that was expecting to me to climb that tree, but rather myself. And no matter how much I flopped and flipped and twirled, I couldn't get my fins to wrap around that big ol' tree.

And in such, I felt I was a failure.

Here was a girl who had two college degrees, a great family, a handful of great friends and yet nothing seemed to be coming together. My relationships were failures, my employment a joke, and my life unfulfilled.

I had the recipe for a successful life, but yet in comparison to my friends who'd found husbands, steady jobs, nice incomes and seemingly perfect lives, I didn't feel very successful.

I'm not sure exactly what brought it all in perspective for me, but there came a point when I took a deep breath and really examined my life and I realized that my biggest problem was I was too worried about meeting other's expectations and comparing my life to the world's standards.

This was the start of a beautiful journey for me. I started to really look inward and I realized that I needed to strip away some things and really find out who I was and what I wanted to achieve in life.

Imagine, if you will an old table. Something you've found at a thrift store, or an antique shop, or even the side of the road. The outer appearance is pretty shabby. It's been painted half a dozen times, and banged up and worn out. Imagine the places that table has been. The houses it's set in. The families that have used it. It's been the sitting place of a housewife, sipping her morning coffee. A resting place for a weary head. The school desk for children doing homework. The canvas of a scribbling four year old. A cat's jumped on it. A skillet has burned it. A shot of whiskey has stained it. It's traveled from place to place and everywhere it's been it's fulfilled some new purpose. It's full of experiences, and has seen more things then you or I.

Yet now it sits, dusty and worn, forgotten. There it is in the corner of that antique shop, or piled up with odds and ends in that thrift store, or worse yet in the back alley surrounded by trash and being more and more weathered by the elements.

One day you see it and you pick it up. You take it home. You see it's potential. You realize it has worth and so you begin the stripping process. You clean it, you sand it, you chip away all the dirt and layers of paint. And underneath? Underneath, you see it's true beauty. The grain of the wood, the ornate carvings. You can see the love that some craftsman put into it. The purpose that it's master carpenter had when he first had the vision of making that table.

And so you wipe away the junk. You apply a little varnish. You refinish it to it's original beauty. And there it stands: A diamond in the rough.

I think we're all like that. Our Master Carpenter, our Creator, our God had some divine purpose for each of us. My purpose is not yours, and your's not mine. There is no comparison. We are each beautiful and serve a purpose far greater then even we can imagine. Yet so often, we spend our lives bouncing from place to place, identity to identity, like a chameleon, always just adapting to our surroundings, doing what is expected. Or perhaps not, perhaps rebelling simply to rebel, not to achieve greatness, but to escape our confusion of what we are "supposed" to do.

That's not to say that these experiences aren't neccesary. Just as this table went from home to home and perhaps served a purpose in each of those homes, in the end it sat it's original intent long forgotten.

As human beings, created by a loving God, we need to remember we have a purpose. And no matter where we've been, or where we are going, we have not yet arrived. We need to strip ourselves down to core, sometimes. Allow the refinishing process to take place. Remember that we are each different and each made for something great. I can't be my best, if I'm trying to be like you.

So yeah, i've finally accepted my fishy-ness. I'm finding satisfaction in the simple things. I'm constantly learning and evolving and finding out more about what makes me ME. In the process, I might lose some friends. But the question I ask is, "Are they really my friends?" I may walk away from those previous degrees. I might not have a big home, or children or a husband. But the question I ask is, " Was that truly my path? "

I am happy in my small house, living with a man I love and who loves me back, with a dog that provides us with companionship, love and protection. With family members who support us, no matter what we are doing, with a handful of friends who get it. I don't worry about how others might judge me, or whether what I'm doing makes sense to them.

It makes sense to me. I am happy. And I'll continue to swim, while the rest of the world might climb. At this point, I recognize that I'm on the right path. For once in my life, I'm doing what's natural. And in that, I've found my own worth, my own intelligence, and my own purpose.

Baby, you've come a long way..

I had a point.

I really did. I came to this very website fully intending to write something that was right there. You know what I mean. It was there, on the forefront of my mind, at the tip of my tongue, just BEGGING me to put it down on paper.

I really did have a point.

But as with most things in my life, change is inevitable. My daddy always says that I chase a lot of rabbits. What he means by that, in case you aren't fluent in country plain speak, is that I get distracted. Easily. By things people say, by things I see, by my own thoughts...it just happens. And so i jump, from one "rabbit" to the next. Usually never catching any of them, but enjoying myself thoroughly, often at the confusion of my peers.

And so with this blog.

Truth be know, I forgot I even HAD this blog. I've been reading my friend Sam's writings, and tonight as I sat in an empty quiet house with only the dog for company, the sound of a ticking clock in my ears, and the smoke from my burning cigarette clouding my vision, I decided to write.

I use to write all the time. And obviously a few years ago I had been prompted to start again on this very blog! But, as with most things, and in line with my rabbit chasing's I walked away. My blog became much like a discarded rag that one forgets they even own.

So I had a point, you see? I came here expressively to write about something. And then...

And then..

Well, and then I saw my old posts. And I was curious, ya know? Wondered what had been on my mind three years ago. So i read them.

That's when my point changed.

It changed because...well, because I didn't recognize the girl that wrote those posts. I mean, I did...but I didn't. I read them with the interest that one has when finding a diary that is not their own. I read them sitting here, today. And this was a girl so far removed from the woman that sits here today. It was a bit mind boggling, to be honest with you.

Floods of memory came back for some of those posts, and other's...well I'm not sure if it's age, or importance, but I didn't have the foggiest idea of what I'd been talking about. I'm thinking it's probably the importance factor more so then age. It brings to mind the  old quip of "Well, will it really matter five years from now?"

Tee hee...Oh and I know me. Yes, I know me better then anyone. And let me tell you, I can almost readily assure you that at the time i wrote these blogs, it did matter damnit. It mattered more then anyone could ever understand (insert dramatic whalings here).

And yet, it didnt. Because whatever was on my mind in 2009, that was so important that i freakin had to blog about it, doesn't even register in the ol' cluebox today in 2012.

So yeah. My point changed.

It's funny isn't it? The things we find important. And the people that we think we are. It's like we recognize the changes that will occur from childhood to adolescence. And again from adolescence to young adulthood. But for some reason we are so convinced that by the time we hit out early 20's we've got it all figured out. And that we just are who we are. We won't change. Maybe we'll age, but inevitably, who we've become is just IT.

Guess what? It's not.

It's not at all. And the best part of recognizing this little factor, is that you also realize that who you are today...i mean RIGHT NOW....well, that's gonna change, too.

And that's GREAT.

I mean it. It's absa-stinki-lutely GREAT. I'm so so so so (you get the idea, yes?) pleased that I am not who I was in 2009. Aww man PRAISE JESUS!!! Because without change, there is no growth.

And we gotta grow, guys. I mean there's just no way around it. You should want to grow. Everyday you should want to wake up just a little bit more then you were the day before. That allows for true experience in life.

I mean, let me explain by self examination....that post about that boy with that kid? Yeah. guess what...that absolutely didnt last. He was FOR SURE not "the one". LOL. and the girl that was so excited to write about him, well..she figured that  out...probably like a month after she wrote that post. If it even made it a month. The details are a bit foggy.

And she was sad. I remember that girl. Yeah, she was pretty unhappy. But that same girl made it through the rest of that year and ended up meeting a pretty amazing guy.

He wasn't perfect either, mind you. There were still some things that had to be worked through and worked out. But they did. Because that girl grew up, and that guy she met? Well he wasn't a boy. He was a man.

And we've now been together nearly three years. Going strong. I wouldn't trade him for anything.  I love him more then words can say.

I live for today, in my relationship with Charlie. I don't worry about the what if's anymore. Or get bent out of shape about our future plans. I don't care about future plans. Well, let me rephrase that...i care, but what WILL be is not more important to me then what IS. Today I'm happy. And if tomorrow isn't easy, then he and I will work that out then. We just take it as it comes.

Does that sound like the same girl from that blog in 2009? Nope. Because I CHANGED. I GREW. I EXPERIENCED. I just...woke up. And each day I wake up a bit more.

Same goes for all that job drama. And oh was it drama. Sheew. I left that awful place. I bounced around here and there. And a year ago, I sorta fell back into school. Always said I'd go back, never thought it'd be in this particular direction, but then again, you know what they say, "While we make plans, God laughs."

I went back thinking I'd pursue Art therapy. Instead, I'm about to start graduate school this fall working towards my Master of Science in Social Work. I might end up utilizing some art therapy in my practice, but I discovered I have a passion for people that drives me much more then my passion for art ever did.

So yeah, in a couple years, I should be well on my way to becoming a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, with the intent of becoming a Therapist. But as I've well learned, just because that's my plan, doesn't make it so. Again, I'm just taking it day by day, letting the cards fall as they may. Whatever will be, will be. I'm just along for the ride, ya know?

My point changed. And I'm glad for it. I'm not even sure what I was planning on writing really (there goes those rabbits!), but I'm thankful for the direction that it went. It's good to reflect. Life has a funny way of showing you where you were and how very far you've come.

Baby, you've come a long way...