Adventures of a Shockingly Average 30-Something

All those little twelve year old girls who talk about how "in love" they are really annoy me. And here's what I have to say to them: ~ You're twelve. ~ You're not in love . ~ He's not the one . ~ You will get your heart broken, and it will hurt. ~ Your best friend will be there for you long after he's gone, so stop ignoring her. ~ Please, for the love of all things good in this world, don't give him everything. I know you feel like you're in love and you may think you're ready to. But you're not. I know your friends say they've done it, but I also know they probably haven't. You're twelve, kid. And I don't want you to make a mistake you'll regret. ~ Breaking up will hurt, but it's not the end of the world. There's other people out there, and one day you'll find the one for you. Don't spend too long crying over him; he's not worth it. ~ Right now you're growing up and pushing away from you...

I hate admitting I can't do things. But I need to admit to myself that I can't do hybrid or online courses. (A hybrid is some classes are online and some are in the classroom). I can't do it. I can't stay focused. It's hard enough being fully present in class when it's in a classroom... trying to do it at home, where there's more distractions than anything else just doesn't work. I'll only get 1/2 the money I paid for the class back, dropping it at this point, but I don't care. I'm dropping the Short Stories class. I'll stay with the Western Civ one; it's actually kind of more interesting than I thought it would be. But the Short Stories one... I thought I would like it, and I think I would like it if it wasn't a hybrid course. And getting only half back doesn't matter anyway. It's not like I paid for it or my mom paid for it or whatever. It was my leftover financial aid money, I think. And if it wasn't and ...

Dear (your name), I know you'll never read this. How do I know? Because I'll never send it to you. If you see it, if you read it, if you know it's about you and from me, I'll deny it. But I just wanted to say this all to you. Please read it. Please just know. I'm begging you. Sometimes I wish you were more aware of my existence. Actually, no. Not just sometimes. All the time. I know you know I exist. We've talked a couple times before. We don't talk that often, but I remember every conversation we've every had. That day you told me you liked my hair cut, and it took me like 30 seconds to say something back to you, I wasn't tired or out of it like I said and we laughed about. No, I was just so amazed that you could like the way I look. You, you're a goddess walking on this earth. There is no other human being on this planet with the same incredible beauty as you. That's a big thing to say, I know, but you don't even know how true ...

Set the stage. Get to know the characters. Understand the plot. Figure it all out before the end comes and the curtain closes. Do I act? Hell no. I tried that once, back in 8th grade, and hated every second I had to be out on that stage. I hated saying the 14 lines I had in the script and dressing in costume. I didn't like going to rehearsals; the people there weren't my friends . They were my cast-mates. Did I want to be friends with them? Some of them, yeah. Others, not so much. But was I going to tell them I wanted to maybe be their friend? No. Why would I do that? The main character... I guess that would be me, since it's my life. I don't think I can paint an accurate picture of myself though. I'd like to think I know who I am. But in reality, wouldn't my perception of myself be different than the me others see? I can tell you who I think I am, but to really know me, you'd have to know me. You'd maybe have to talk to others who kno...