To Remember or Not to Remember

I'm sitting quietly in the dark at Jack Huff's Motor Lodge in Gatlinburg, TN. My mom is asleep already. At the beginning of the evening I would have guessed I would be the one asleep and she the one unsettled. Without even thinking, apparently, she made reservations here for us to stay on our way home from Nashville. The big thing is this: we haven't been here since my dad died. Staying in the same motel, eating at the same places, seeing all the same things. She said she thought that it had "been long enough" and that we would be okay. We ate supper at the Applebarn restaurant. There is a picture hanging on the refrigerator door at home of my mom and dad walking out of the same building, victoriously holding soup (the best thing in the world to my mother.) I sat in the van while she paid and went to the restroom and then I watched her walk out, alone. We drove out of the parking lot and onto the parkway and on into Gatlinburg, just the two of us. It's strange to think that you would subconsciously expect someone who died a year and a half ago to walk in the door. To open the door from the balcony. He loved to sit out there, especially at night and early in the morning. I can see the back of his head just above the window sill, still in pajamas and waiting for the rest of us to get up. I haven't gone out there. My mom went earlier, but I just can't bring myself to do it. It's too much him.
The staple of our annual pilgrimage to the Smokies was of course my parents and I. But at some point in high school there came to be a tradition of bringing a friend. One of those friends no longer holds the same place in my life and the memories of my father with her are the hardest to bear simply because it is one more thing that has permanently been ripped away. The other friend is simply in a different spot in life, as we all are, but one that affects his ability, and rightfully, his desire to be a part of the trip. To some extent these thoughts leave me wondering where that puts me at. Fortunately, the purpose of this trip was to prepare for the future. Being in Nashville, near Belmont, with the friends that I made before my life was turned upside down felt so good. I could never explain to these people all that they mean to me. Not to mention how anxious I am to come back there.
I haven't cried about losing Daddy in a while. I'm not sure I even cried on my birthday even though there was a noticeable absence at all the celebrations. But I have learned that when the need is there it is best to let it out. You can't live your life fighting back tears.

Direction

To say I am looking for myself and the direction I want my life to take is too cliche. Everyone seems to be "finding themselves" in college or at the end of high school. I constantly battle for balance of my hopes, dreams, and goals. Occasionally, I find that I get too worried about missing something and I miss everything. Today I am making a decision. To some it may not seem like much, but to me it will prove to be a big deal. I don't necessarily have a bucket list. I have an idea of things I'd like to do before I miss the chance. I want to drive cross country, from NC to California, from New York City to New Orleans. You can't take three weeks off for a random road trip when you are employed full time. I don't know why, but employers seem to frown on that. I want to go to Australia and London and Paris (during fashion week would be amazing). I want to live in downtown Nashville. That goal looks to be crossed off the list this summer and the next few years. Of course, I do want to get married and have a family, but I'm realizing I don't want that now. I don't want to find myself at 40, with one kid on each arm and one attached to each leg, having accomplished none of my goals. The awesome thing about this is that God knows. He already sees my life as it will be. He's just waiting on me to make up my mind.
On to today's decision. I want to pursue writing. I want to write more than my blog, more than the research papers for class, more than an entry every so often in my journal. I want to write as my job, or at least one of them. I already write for suite101. I really enjoy it, but it isn't something I'm making money from. I take that back. I have earned a quarter. I'm a good writer. (My blog may not always demonstrate this, but the blog is an emotional out.) I want to have things published. I love finding new, unknown bands. I want to write CD reviews. I am not ashamed to say that I am a fan of writing a nice girl power anthem now and again. I have written several short stories. I want to write more. Writing is taking its place as a major part of who I am. Now is my chance to get better at it and to see just what I can do. So with Writer's Digest at my side, I pick up my pen and begin.

We Sing, We Dance, We Eat (way too much)

Since probably fourth grade I have been living to eat, instead of the right way around. My sophomore year in High School I finally got a hold of myself and my appetite. I lived the healthiest I ever have my freshman year in college, despite fourthmeal. The last eighteen months have understandably been the most emotional I have ever experienced. The catch is I'm living on my own right now and thus no one has any influence over my eating habits. I did pretty well for a while, but Reese's Cup Valentine hearts ruined that spree. Now there are Easter eggs. What do they want from me???!!! I was running several times a week in warmer weather, but the winter has interrupted that. Point in case...Spring break approacheth. Not far behind it is Summer. I've spent a lot of time here feeling isolated and depressed. BUT things are looking up. In two months I am moving to Nashville. Wholly and completely moving with my belongings and even my cat. I get to move in with one of the best friends I've ever had and one of the few friends who have stood by me through everything. A friend that I am extremely similar too.
The point of all of the above is this. My life is about to change pretty drastically. A new major. A new city. A new home. A new job. This is a second chance. Luckily for me I didn't have to nearly die to get it. I just got an opportunity to write ten articles every three months for suite101.com. New opportunities are coming up all over the place. So to my body and mind (particularly my appetite): the war is over. I will win. We will get fit. We will not leave cookies and chocolate alone, but it will not run our life.