Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Like words on a page...

I’m scared.

I’m at that point. You know, the one that teenagers think doesn’t exist, and adults have warned you about since you were a kid. That point where you get the wind knocked out of you by this little thing called life. I’ve grown so much since I was in college even.

I can remember sleeping through half of World Cinema, because I stayed out so late the night before. My breath reeked like a brewery, and my clothes were the same as the night before (which often luckily consisted of sweatpants and a hoodie). We would throw huge Lesbian block parties at my friend Kate’s on any night that ended in y, and most of the time I would end up so smashed that I’d spend the night there, my body mangled into some obtuse shape across the sofa.

I loved it. I drank like a sailor, and partied like Snooki. That is if Snooki called all her friends Bro, and slept with women.

It took me a lot of hangovers and unforgivable mistakes before I realized “I can’t do it.” I can’t be that unpredictable. All of the external factors in my life make my head spin with anxiety. Why would I add to the list?

I’m obnoxious. I black out. I piss people off. I lose things. I get angry. I drunk text. I get stuck unable to drive and miss appointments. I do things wrong and then don’t remember how or why I did them. The list goes on and on.

The entire time I was in undergrad I used the excuse, “It’s not being an alcoholic when you’re in college. It’s called having fun.” Now looking back I realize that I missed so much. I could have applied myself harder. Learned more. Connected better. There are talents that I could have honed in on that I just let slip away. I had ample opportunity to seize one of the finest educations in the country, and I dropped the ball.

Did I learn? Yes. I even learned a lot, but had I have been sober more than drunk I could have learned a lot more. I remember sitting in The Dean of Student Service’s office. She looked at me solemnly and said “When someone approaches me in the future and asks about you, what is it that you want me to say?” Now I certainly wasn’t all bad, but that conversation did follow this particular time that I hung a 12ft x 12ft tarpaulin on the front of my dorm with a message to my roommate.


I have your undies.

Happy Birthday.

Bros before Hoes.

Love Casey”

The Dean wasn’t thrilled, however after my very convincing argument that “really the tarp was just my freedom of speech in an artistic form of protest for the celebration of my friend’s birthday” she actually let me hang it back up. She shook her head as I left. She would never recommend me for anything, except maybe the debate team.

Looking back now I want to kick myself. I had no idea what real life was like. That kids do things like that. I wanted people so badly to treat me like an adult, but I was still acting like a child. Since graduation I’ve had a few reality checks. Life comes. Whether you’re ready or not it sweeps in. If you’re not prepared, not holding on to your gatherings, it sweeps you off of your feet.

It makes me appreciate the hard work of my parents more. It makes me admire my best friend. She’s been doing this for years. It makes me look closely at the miracles that have been my life. I could sit for days and tell you the insane stories, eventually I might, but you wouldn’t believe them. Looking back, I hardly believe them.

Life is like a book. This very moment you are writing a page in your own book about the time you sat for however many minutes and stared at a computer screen. Taking in all of the words and processing them to determine whether or not you agree with their concept. When you’re done you’ll write another paragraph about the thing you do next.

Ask yourself. Do you like your story? If not then change it. This is all we have. When we’re gone there’s a high chance we will be forgotten. Leave your legacy. Make that change. Stamp you heart on the page of life.

Be the person you want to be remembered as.

I’m packing up my car on September 2nd. It will be my last day in Columbia. My last day protected by the umbrella of “Stars”. (Alma Mater reference.) It will be the last day of the chapter that has been “College”. Even though I’ve been graduated for a year, working there has only reiterated to me that it’s time to move on. I’m an Alumna. Stephens prides itself on having some of the most amazing alums in the world. Now it’s time for me to attempt to be one of them.

I’ll drive home for a few days to say my goodbyes to the family that I’ve actually gotten closer to over the last five months. I’ll take a deep breath and then I’ll drive from Memphis to Los Angeles. I’m making the trip alone, but fully intend to live it up. I’ve done this trip before but haven’t really experienced it. I drove right through. This time I plan to make a few stops. I want to see things. Meet people. This time, I’m going to write my story. I want it to be filled with beautiful moments that only fate can produce. From this point forward, every day will be a recollection of a beautiful thing called life. 

And I fully tend to keep you informed. It’s been really incredible. Since I’ve begun to write this blog I have gotten the most amazing feedback. Genuine compliments from beautiful people. It’s invigorating really. I’ve since gotten to speak to a few really great and interesting souls, and it has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my LIFE. Thank you.

So here it is. I’m a month and a half away from the next chapter. And right now, this part of the chapter was where I wrote another blog to whoever will lend an ear. It is so incredibly nice to connect with you.  

Small town girl takes that leap out to L.A. Meets a few good friends, laughs, cries, and hopefully one day paints a beautiful recollection of the things that she experienced which were far more incredible than she could ever convey.

Until Sunday.

Remember me,
I’m Tennessee. 

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