The family is a haven in a heartless world.

Growing up everyone always says, "well one day you will be glad to have your brother and when that day comes you will realize you shouldn't pick on him so much because he will be bigger than you."
That day came faster than I thought when my brother pinned me down in the heat of a fight in high school, not much longer after he started wrestling.
Yeah, I was stupid for that one. I deserved it.
Being one of the boys taught me a lot of things that I didn't realize until I grew up. It taught me to fight when necessary and work hard for what you want. That make-up and high heels are necessary and only use them when you need them the most. It made me independent, no relying on anyone else to get things done for me. If you want it done right, do it yourself. It also taught me to fight things out. Well, as my mother would say, "take it outside, I don't want any of your blood on my carpet."
Who could blame her?
I truly believe that is the way to handle things though. Maybe not always physically, especially because I would frequently lose against my brother these days, but always just you and whoever you have the problem with. I believe fighting is part of life. I've grown closer to my brothers by fighting with them. And fighting for them.
It wasn't until I started having chick friends that I realized that this is a little unacceptable in girl world. For whatever reason, you aren't supposed to ever fight or you are never friends again. Like Cady says in "Mean Girls," in girl world, all the fighting is done behind closed doors.
It doesn't take much for them to turn on you and when they do, expect your secrets to be spread amongst surrounding friends. Expect a silent war where every friend has to take a side, or else. It's ridiculous.
And then I remembered how much cleaning I've done.
And I let it go.
And moved on.
Drama free life.
I must admit it is difficult to keep friends close after all this. You feel like you can't trust anybody. And to be honest, right now I don't. I only trust strangers, a journal, my family, and I guess you people (strangers of the internet).
Because those you trust with secrets will tell them, no matter what they say. They will tell them to someone who would be interested. Or, if you upset them, even those who wouldn't.
But now, none of it matters.
As I watched my grandmother breathing on a ventilator, kidney's failing, in the intensive care unit tonight, I realized I didn't care about any of it. Even if she doesn't make it through the weekend, she will take whatever parts of my heart and soul I entrusted to her with her to the grave.
As will the rest of my family.
I look around at a lot of families who aren't as comfortable with each other and I can't help but thank God. Even if everything in my life is going wrong, I am still so lucky to be a part of this group of people. They are so welcoming to everyone and pass no judgments. We are a family of people that make huge mistakes without the money to buffer them. But it is the greatest of sinners that have the most compassionate and forgiving hearts.
And that is what makes Thanksgiving my favorite holiday. The realization of what you have. I realize it every year because this is when I get to see my family, everyone stays at home for Christmas.
As I held back tears to make my grandmother think I was strong enough to hold her pain and be positive about the situation, I couldn't help but realize how fragile life is. How important every stupid test they run is. When you hold you breath waiting for results or sit bedside encouraging zen and peace into the room so she can breathe well enough to take the ventilator out, that's when you realize what you truly love.
Hospitals are horribly depressing places.
But they are places where hope shines, no matter how feebly, and where families grow stronger.
Your thoughts, prayers, chants, etc. would be appreciated in that I will be able to spend at least one more Thanksgiving with my grandmother.

Nerdy Post

Do you ever wonder what God (or an alternate higher power) was thinking when He made you?
Why the stubbornness? And this hair color?
I have wondered this ever since I started playing The Sims in middle school. This is my nerdy side. I would love to tell you about all my sims and their characteristics, but that's a little too personal for me. Don't judge me.
I love going in to create a new sim. Of course I love creating ones that emulate myself or the people I know. It really makes me think hard about us as humans and the things we do often that express our personalities and define who we are.
I can't imagine the process God went through.
I must admit I change things about myself in The Sims. I bestow a "lucky" personality trait upon myself, for one. Well, that's mostly because it makes playing the game easier since bad stuff hardly happens.
True, I am very spoiled in my life, but of course, we would all love for life to be as easy as possible.
So what was he thinking?
"Oh I will make her stubborn. And she'll have a southern accent. It will be hilarious. I can't wait to see her face this and that. And why not make her a lover of the ocean and a hater of football? Oh, and sociable yet distant. She would be perfect for her stubborn father and loving mother."
It's a curious thought.
It makes me wonder what's next in my action list?
What's after this quarter-life crises?
"I'll remove most of her friends and comforts, then..."
Then what?
There's a lot of emptiness now. So what are we going to fill it with big man?
I must admit I'm excited and anxious to see.
"Have your adventures, make your mistakes, and choose your friends poorly - all these make for great stories." -Chuck Palahniuk

"Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud, and I know that you'll use them however you want to"

Times are hard, peeps. Everyone is growing up so fast.
I can't wait for thanksgiving. I want to be around my family so bad. My friends have disappointed me so much this year, I just want to get to my favorite holiday already.
I never thought I would say this, but everyone was right. The older you are, the more you realize your family is all you have. I've grown so close to them through everything. With them, I have "tenure." They can't leave me. And I know they wouldn't even if they had the choice.
But it is times like these. The ones where you are broke, cleaning hotel rooms to make ends meet, failing school, trying to figure out what you're going to do with your life, and the things you need most disappear.
Well, the ones you thought you needed.
It is these periods in my life that I realize how amazing I have it. I don't usually name names, but I want you to know I have amazing friends.
Allyson,
Ben,
Wes,
Caitlin,
Kelly,
Julie,
Victoria,
Brittany,
Maggie,
Moorea.
In fact, over the course of my life, I have collected quite a few friends who were amazing. Apparently amazing enough for other people to take, but that's neither here nor there.
I have it good. Despite these desperate times, there are people who are still with me.
I still have my music. And I still have my health. And my starbucks giftcard.
Just breathe.

When I started this blog, I would have never imagined it would have developed into this.
As I have moved through this social media class, I have been wondering what "focus" I want this blog to have. Why did I start it? Where should it go from here?
For those of you who have been around for a while, this blog is mostly just my stupid thoughts. I'm too lazy to hand write them and I hate taking the time to open Word.
So, here they are. For the vast of the internet to see.
When I started this blog, it was set to private. For whatever reason, I changed it one day. It gets more views than I thought it would. I don't know why anyone cares to follow the path of a crazy girl, but I hope it is at least entertaining.
I read a tweet from Joel Zimmerman (deadmau5) that he posted when he was clearly a bit distressed. He posted a few more about being upset and then says, 'maybe I should write a blog post.'
"yes you should. it's amazingly therapeutic." i tweeted back.
After a while he thanked all his followers for their support.
So, thank YOU. Thank you for listening. You are my therapy.
I do my best to be honest about my thoughts here. As embarrassing as it may be to semi-publicly share your thoughts with the world, I feel if I decided to start this out as my place to pour my heart, it is here that I will continue to do so. I really don't connect with humans enough to keep me sane.
This makes you my invisible friend.
Always listening. Not saying much back. (Of course I thoroughly encourage feedback)
Welcome to the circle.
Again, should that be the focus? Entertainment?
I'm really not funny enough to be a comedic writer.
I don't travel enough for this to be a travel blog. And when I do, I often don't have the time to be a tourist.
I move along the fitness path a little too slowly to be a fitness blogger. I don't share or get enough information to pass along to you, albeit I have discovered a lot of things I can quickly pass on through my Twitter and Pinterest accounts.
So now what?
Who I am?
Well, I am unfocused. I can't honestly say I'm enough of a fitness freak to dedicate this solely to my work out diaries. No one pays me to travel, so, in consideration of my budget, I can't offer you worlds of travel advice. Just a bit in small doses.
I am a person of ever changing focus. I love learning new things. And I love talking about the new things I learned.
So what I can officially confirm about this blog, is it will never be focused.
It will forever be "The Life and Times of Madison Sites."

You Want Something. Go Get It. Period.

It's hard to stare the truth in the face. Especially when you don't know what to do with it.
More so when you are graduating with a degree you don't want in 25 weeks.
I can't believe I'm finally saying it, but I don't want to do this anymore. I've considered being a professor in business, but I can't stand business.
Looking back, I wish I would have listened to myself in the first place and gone to art school.
Unfortunately I ride the strange line of lacking the personality and skills to belong in business school and also lacking the quirkiness for art school.
So I'm staring my life down wondering what to do next.
What do I do after May 5?
How do I transition, if ever?
I've been thinking a lot on what I love and what I hate doing. What is it I loved about hospitality that made me choose this route?
The travel. The experience I could give others. Working in exotic places.
Now I'm realizing I could travel more with an education background. So why not be a professor?
Because I don't care enough about business. I love the schedule professor offers and, as far as business goes, the pay ain't so bad either.
I love my camera. I want to learn how to do that better.
I've always been the person called on for creative projects at work, poster designs and stupid stuff like that - I just wish I had the skills and programs to do it better.
When I think back to high school and how much I loved designing the literary/arts magazine, I wonder what the hell I was thinking doing this.
Don't let anyone tell you that you can't do something, even if it's an art teacher saying you won't survive art school. Now I may never know.
And I hate myself for listening.
I've always been the good child that takes the advice I'm told. I don't act on impulse regarding life decisions. I think sensibly and fairly maturely for a lot of my life.
I push myself in school and work to make everyone proud.
But here I am, burnt out and bored.
Staring at everything I've accomplished and not caring. I have my pick of a job or a graduate school.
Why did I wait until I the world at my feet to decide I didn't want this life?
Stupid girl.
"Life's too short to wait any longer."

Kemmons Wilson Scholars

I have my final breakfast with the Kemmons Wilson family tomorrow. I thought I would share a video I made for them of my last couple years as a Kemmons Wilson Scholar here at the University of Memphis Kemmons Wilson School of Hospitality and Resort Management. Enjoy.

KW Scholars

Clean Up and Clear Out

I can't believe I just posted Hilary Duff video. Teenage me is flipping right now.

As I get to the end of this semester I begin to realize all the loose ends I have to tie up and all the F's I need to turn into at least C's. Just kidding.

Well, sort of.

Things are hard for everyone. It seems like everyone is having a rough week. Relationships, money, grades, time management, work, health: it's all pouring on us.

Generally I run through these things, but it seems I have ITB syndrome, which has temporarily shut down my running. Not so good for a crazy who uses it as therapy.

ITB is basically an injury in the band that runs from your hip down to your ankle. My injured spot is on my knee, which inflicts an unbearable pain concentrated in the knee that flows outward as I continue running. I ran over 2 miles through the pain a week and a half ago and when it started up before I was a mile into my run yesterday I decided to say something to my jogging instructor.

I nearly cried when she said I wouldn't be able to run the St. Jude Half Marathon straight through. I've worked so hard up until this point. What about everything that I have given this stuff, just for the system to fail me?

I've spent the last four years working my ass off academically (mostly A's) and here I am, barely passing classes.

I've worked so hard at each of my jobs, just to get laid off twice like I was nothing. And it took me so long to get work that I have to keep borrowing money to float my bills. It makes you wonder if you really are a decent candidate. What happens when I graduate?

I've worked hard at so many relationships just to watch them fall apart.

Can I get a win, God?

But when it pours, it really is cleansing. Humbling. Accepting.

I do have a job now. Be thankful. I will get caught up. As my dad's girlfriend told me recently, "It's just money." And that's it. Nothing more. Lay offs happen, then you stumble upon a magical adventure you didn't see before.

You can't let one part of your life (not having a job) affect another that you love. Sure, we aren't robots that separate each piece, not allowing them to affect the others at all times, but I've realized I'm wasting my time and killing my GPA by letting my ego be crushed with unemployment. I let my depression of not having a job and feeling like I have to start over in Memphis affect my school. It's not worth it. Especially since I love school.

And just as our lives aren't separate pieces, people aren't either. As I look back while I clean through my life and my house, I've realized how much I've learned. I used to be someone who either loved you or hated you.

The world was black and white.

People are good or bad.

Not so much. The world is a beautiful gray. People have flaws. They have beautiful humanity. And just as some have "shown their true colors," you can't forget what beautiful colors they are at either end of the spectrum. The good and the bad. Because no one is perfect and no one is wholly evil. Getting past this idea was really hard. You have to truly begin to love people, to understand and accept them.

Along the way I think I forgot that I was gray myself. I need to cut myself more slack. I'm human, too. I really did that this summer, especially in Paris. I took more time to breathe and happily accepted mistakes and flaws.

I think now I've realized that there are lots of people that are somewhere on the same path, either on the way to understanding the gray, past it, or have got a ways to go. And when some just don't get it yet, you can't let them continue to bring you down. There's nothing you can do about your bad side.

Sure, choose good more often, but accept and be accepted in that you are human as well. There are people who can't accept your bad, that happens. It's why we aren't close friends with the whole world. Accept it and move on. Find and cherish those that love your good and your bad.

I'm not perfect.

I'm not invincible.

My body has taught me that for sure. My shins cry out and my ITB turns away from the adventure.

Accept my limits. And realize that they are really just glasses.

I can see clearly now.

And maybe now I can see I have more time next semester to devote to learning how to swim like the pros for that triathlon I always wanted to do, but was too afraid to try.

"Let the rain fall down, I'm coming clean."

Interning at Madison

Praise Buddha, I'm no longer unemployed. I finally nailed an internship at my local dream job, Madison Hotel.

Conceited, I know. But it is a really nice boutique property downtown. One of a select few 4-star properties in Memphis.

I love being a part of a hotel that isn't just another chain.

Sure, being a part of a chain gives you perks, like the IHG Conference in Las Vegas. Lots of support, instant brand recognition.

Being independent is difficult, but has the reward of not following a big company's rules. It is more flexible. More creative.

Which is much more Madison.

I am going to spend the next few months as an intern in housekeeping, then on to butler (basically their concierge), and finally front office.

This will hopefully help me narrow down what to do with my life. I like a lot of parts of hospitality, but I'm not sure what I love enough to make a career of it.

I love Disney, but only as a seasonal cast member. I simply can't work there full time and still love it. It just won't work.

Over the course of my four years in hospitality, I've learned a lot from each job.

MALCO Theatres: I definitely can't handle something mundane and ritualistic. I HATED being around food. Too many rules. It was only a concession stand, but it was enough. I like movies and all, but you won't find me running a theatre.

Hilton Hotels Corporation: Even though I worked in a complaint department, I really liked the job. I enjoyed talking to different types of people all the type. I hated the corporate office environment. I couldn't stand to be in that building and inside all day under fluorescent light.

Disney: Semi-mundane, but enough variety in people to converse with that it didn't matter. Lots of perks. Lots of sunshine and being outside. Much more mundane now, though.

Homewood Suites: Working at the front desk is fun, but it is checking-in and checking-out all day (boring). The great part was, again, getting to know all my guests. Not a wide variety, but still a great time.

Madison Hotel: Here I am. In housekeeping. I started this weekend as a front line housekeeper. I'm not kidding. I cleaned rooms and bath rooms. Made beds. Cleaned toilets. All in a dorky dress.

I'm definitely staying in school.

In fact, I'm going to work ten times harder now.

I'm really glad I had the chance to actually do it, though. It's tough. We all know it, but you don't really know it until you do it.

I think every hotelier should spend a weekend as a housekeeper. Spend one day cleaning rooms all day, just to wake up and do it again the next day. It makes you more compassionate and more logistically understanding when it comes to how fast rooms can really be cleaned by one person.

Great experience. There are amazing people that clean your rooms. They are unbelievably humble. I met one who was only doing it so she could pay for her daughter (my age by the way) to live in her own apartment because she was so proud of her.

Humanity makes you so proud sometimes. That's absolutely beautiful.

They work so hard and often help each other clean rooms once they are done. They look out for everyone. Each one genuinely wanted to know how I liked it and did their best to help me.

At the end of it all, I truly deserved my sleep this weekend. I valued my free time so much more now after such a hard day.

I realize how lucky I am that I will never have to do that full time. I have had so many opportunities from loads of different people in my life that gave me a chance. I often think of a quote from Chuck Palahniuk:

"Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I've ever known."

So thank you for reading. And occasionally commenting. Thank you for all you do for me on my life's journey. I can't wait to see where the adventure goes.

Viva Las Vegas

Well, my last night in Vegas was quite the adventure.

Nothing crazy. A lot of walking.

I really enjoy the theming of each casino. They really stay true to their theme through a lot of mediums.

The Venetian especially. There is a canal that runs through the property and shops align it as if you were actually in Venice. Many of the gondola drivers sing as they push their guests through the property's canal.

The fountains, the marble, the carpet, the signs, the furniture - everything says Venice.

It's like Disney World for adults.

Seriously!

Looking for EPCOT's World Showcase? There's Italy to be found at the Bellagio (oh boy did I gush when I went there, I'm a HUGE Ocean's Eleven fan) and the Venetian. And Roman look a-likes at Caesar's Palace. And, of course, the Paris Casino!

The sleek feel of EPCOT is noticeable at Stratosphere and the Cosmopolitan (one of my favorites).

Hollywood Studios: MGM Grand with it's hollywood-like atmosphere and New York, New York (even complete with a rockin' roller coaster, definitely check it out) which resembles the "streets of America" found within the park.

Animal Kingdom- exhibits at the Mandalay Bay (sharks) and MGM Grand (lions). There's also Circus Circus with hosts acrobatic acts (Festival of the Lion King show, anyone?).

Magic Kingdom? Advenureland at Treasure Island. Frontierland at Bill's Casino. Fantasyland at Excalibur. Let's keep it current and assume no toon-town. And tomorrowland at Stratosphere.

I couldn't help, but let my Disney nerd run loose. My apologies.

I learned a lot about IHG at this conference and where they are going with the Holiday Inn (google "The Hub") and even rebranding Crowne Plaza.

There were also lots of strategies on increasing revenue, stregnthening branding, and taking care of people.

One notable one was from Trayce Robbins on dealing with our generation. Crazy generation Y.

She wanted the company to accept that we were not going to be "lifers," but also to understand that this is not such a bad thing. She emphasized how important it is to maintain post-job relationships. In essence, don't let them leave on a bad note, because they will leave, accept it, but they will also possibly be future customers and, more importantly, refer friends to the company as employees.

And if they were a great employee, won't their friends be, too? Plus, with our generation moving so much, each of us has a wide variety of experience and diversity to bring to the table everytime we move. I truly hope the current industry leaders really take this to heart and understand that constant shifts aren't so bad afterall.

Well, it is time to get back into the swing of things and get some homework done. I need to get to work on the student portion of my "spoiled student" lifestyle.

A Crazy Two Weeks and Then, Vegas

I've had a crazy two weeks. I'm sure you have missed me, although, I have my doubts, ha!

I've been emptying my life.

Like throw away all that stuff, from the trinkets of ex-relationships to pure junk. Make room for new things, new memories, your new life, and make sure you leave room for space to think. I mean this all physically and mentally.

I've realized that if you want something you've never had, you have to do things you've never done.

Like run your first 10K. Your first trail race.

And, eventually, we all place.

I placed in my division for the first time last week at the Overton Park 10k. 2nd place in women's 20-24. My trophy was a silver gnome, ha!

It felt like a reward for all the pain.

All the self-destruction.

All the emptiness.

I had made room for new victories.

And here I am in Las Vegas. The farthest west I've ever been.

I spent my first evening getting, as my friend would call it, "white girl wasted" at Cosmopolitan. A beautiful property by the way.

And then we headed to Planet Hollywood, where, according to rumors I flirted our way in the door for free.

I'm not completely sure if that's true, but that's what they say.

And while I was going about my completely irresponsible ways and spending the next day in recovery basking in the desert sun by the pool, my friend received a very magical proposal at Disney.

I can't help but to consider myself a bit of a relational wreck at this point. No regrets on being single, but I guess I feel an obligation to "grow up, get married, have babies" soon since everyone else is doing the same.

Now, I'm a bit stubborn, so I won't give in so easily. Albeit, I will stand my ground with a bit of self consciousness.

I mean, if I ever break down and do the marriage thing, I will probably have to settle for a boy coming out of the divorce stage. And I just don't want that baggage.

Relational rant of the day is over. My apologies.

Being at the Intercontinental Hotel Group here in Las Vegas really makes me realize what a spoiled student I am.

No other major gets to go on trips like these. No other hospitality school takes their students on as many trips as I have been on.

I spent the day with "grown ups" talking about real problems in the industry and what exciting things lie ahead for each brand under IHG.

At the end of the evening, they threw a party on the pool deck of the Venetian. And boy was it a blast. Each of their 4 or 5 pools was themed after a different Olympic Host Country: Beijing, Brazil, Russia, England, and, Norway?

That last one doesn't sound right.

And it could be wrong.

There was an open bar, so it could definitely be wrong.

There were also dancers/performers for each country as well as themed food and alcohol.

It was an amazing time.

If I ever work "for the man" you can bet it will be for IHG.

They are even having a fun run 5k tomorrow and wednesday, but considering I really messed my knee up on my long weekend run this past week, I'm going to give it a rest.

Being at this conference and spending a lot of time with our director of the school has made me realize what an advantage I have over most students in the industry. I can really do well here, and, he's convinced I can do better than most all of the men that stood before us on the executive boards.

But women leave the industry before they can move up because of family life.

One woman who I look up to a lot, however, is Angela Brav. She came and had a private meeting with a few of us at the school once. At the time she was high up in IHG in the Americas. Now she oversees Europe.

She admitted there is no such thing as work-life balance. You lean towards one or the other. She couldn't help but be hurt that when she was home, her kids asked for dad when they were sick or scared. She felt like it shouldn't be that way, but this is the life she chose. And, for the most part, she doesn't regret it.

I feel like if I have worked this hard in school for my career, I won't leave it behind for family life.

I'm the next Angela Brav, maybe.

I couldn't bear the opportunity cost of being the perfect mom, just like many women I know can't bear missing out on being the perfect mom.

I could handle having kids that prefer dad.

I couldn't handle feeling like I missed out on my own career.

So, at the end of it all, yes, I will probably end up always "being the bridesmaid, but never the bride" and, down the line, the cat lady, but I would rather have that than a shortened career.

Good Grief

Death has been a crazy underlying theme of this week. It has been on my mind and I haven't taken the time to post on it, but with the passing of Steve Jobs, I feel like I have to now.

I ran the Camp Good Grief 5K on Sunday. It was held a Memorial Gardens, a beautiful cemetery here in Memphis.

Creepy, I know, but it was the perfect place.

Camp Good Grief is a bereavement camp for kids who have lost parents, siblings, or very close family members. It is an amazing organization.

It's one of those needs in life that people really don't consider. People don't like to think that there are kids out there that need bereavement counseling.

Kids aren't supposed to go through that.

As Danny Thomas noted, they shouldn't die in the dawn of life either.

While running this race, I realized that Memphis gets a lot of bad stuff our way, but we handle it like champions.

High obesity rates.

High crime rates.

High poverty.

And churches on every corner.

I'm not proud to be a citizen of a city with any of the above. You would think that the first three and the last shouldn't correlate, but, for whatever reason, they do.

There are things, though, that I and many others love about Memphis.

St. Jude

Memorial Gardens

Le Bonheur

The Med

UT Medical School

The Zoo

The Art Museums

We may have bad things here, but we do our best to change lives. We raise millions for St. Jude every year. Just mention the name and you have already rallied the room.

Even if we aren't good for much beyond medical care, we change lives all over the world by being a volunteer, raising or giving money, or being a direct experience of any of the medical facilities here in town.

Even if I'm just a mediocre runner with an average time and generally average and boring lifestyle, I still want to be a part of something greater.

Even if I'm a nobody to the rest of the world, here, it is so easy to get involved and be something else.

Something better.

Memphis isn't the rich family with all these standards to keep.

We are a pretty country city. And pretty dysfunctional at times.

Yet when things get hard, we aren't too good or too big to admit problems and do our best to change them.

I wouldn't want another family for the world.

"This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time."

I know I have said it before, but I love the quote, "When the student is ready, the teacher appears."

It seems that someone hands me a book or suggests one that I really need to hear right when I need it. This last week I have nearly finished 3 very different books that all meet my current balance needs.

First was Rob Bell's "Love Wins." Rob Bell has a wonderful way of simplifying what we, the church, have complicated and abused.

If you haven't read a Rob Bell book before, start with his first one, "Velvet Elvis," to get an idea of his theology. I recommend him for people of all walks of life, because, at the end of it all, we are all humans and that is really the simplest way I can describe how he thinks. After that, hit up "Sex God" (optional), but you must try "Jesus Wants To Save Christians," after. And then you would have permission to read "Love Wins," ha!

"Love Wins" reminds me to wipe the slate clean and clear my mind of others judgements before I decide on what I believe Heaven and Hell are. And, honestly, they are right here, right now. How can I create heaven here and now for me and others as well as fight the hells of now? It basically comes down to maintaining your humanity or getting farther and farther away from it.

Next was Roald Dahl's "Fantastic Mr. Fox." Roald Dahl is a children's literature author and I think everyone should take the time to read a kids book every once in a while. Sure it is a little embarassing carrying a kids book around on campus, but it inspired me to laugh more easily.

Plus I absolutely love the movie, directed by Wes Anderson. The score is awesome, too, and is done by a French composer Alexandre Desplat. It is very dry humor, so beware.

Right now I am working on Chuck Palahniuk's "Fight Club." And I've decided to go out and buy all his books. He is an incredible writer. And if you have seen the movie, you will also know that not only is he great with words, but plot as well.

It correlates really well with personal issues I am struggling with as well as the running. It is the simplification process of Rob Bell, but without the spirituality. More of a "you" focus.

"Self-improvement is masturbation, now self-destruction is the answer."

There's a little bit of Chuck for you.

Get the idea?

Here's some more for you to enjoy.

My race this morning was much more solo feeling that last week at Cooper Young. We weren't numbered (therefore my time was less exact) and there weren't keg parties in yards (Naturally so, it was 8 am).

Not only did I lack encouragement, but I was also punished. Punished for all my bad eating this week. I felt so great last week and truly deserved eating bad after the race, even though it wasn't worth it, but I have really felt awful about giving in to my cravings this week - not just on a personal conscious level, but physically when I run or even just after I eat it.

I was chatting with my hippie friend today while we volunteered at the farmer's market. I told her that just getting your heart rate up enough to where you are sweating for 20 minutes straight 3 times a week is enough to get healthy and begin to lose weight.

Since I run around a 10 minute pace, this explains why it is so hard to get to that 2 mile mark. Getting to that 20 minutes is tough. It hurts. Everything in you wants to stop.

Once you build the stamina and the brain power to push and motivate yourself past it, it is a compound effect. Not only can you go farther, but it makes it easier to go farther.

I eventually hit a point where my calves feel hard as steel. I get a bit nervous since that could be a sign that I'm about to cramp and fall out (how embarrassing!), but I haven't cramped yet, so no worries.

It is at this point and the point where I begin to want to stop that I build stamina. This is the part where you build muscle. This is the part where you become a champion.

It is when it hurts the most. When you are dying to stop, yet you keep on, that you move forward on so many levels.

I have a lot of pride. When I hurt, I do my best to keep it to myself and push through. I do this to the point of burning bridges to keep people out. I mean its only "after you've lost everything that you are free to do anything." Is another relationship really the answer? I think I'm becoming attached to my independence, unwilling to give it up again.

A lot of the time I feel like these are lessons I'm supposed to learn on my own.

No one can run a race for me.

I have to train. I have to hurt. I have to have hardened calves.

And with every bit of emotional pain, I turn to exercise.

As I make my calves harder, I make my heart harder (and stronger), too.

I push myself on so many levels just to see how far I can keep going, how long I can go just being by myself, how many credit hours can I cram into a semester (currently 23), how many extracurriculars, and, sometimes, how long I can feel the pain of hunger before it goes away.

Yeah, I know that last one was bad. No worries, I assure you I am eating.

I think they call this obsessive exercising.

But since it is exercise, can you really do too much? I mean, this is a healthy outlet, right?

Running With A Different Crowd

The funny thing about exercising frequently is it begins to engulf you.
If you let it.
And when you have people flying in to see you run a half marathon (13.1 miles) in December,
you let it.
This entire past week I have only had water and (mostly) fruit. Especially the 24 hours leading up to my first race.
The Cooper Young Festival 4 miler. 
I've felt great.
Incredible.
Sure it sucks denying myself so much in the food category (my biggest weakness, hands down), but it was worth it. I felt better about 20 minutes after I decided against it.
I ran better.
Felt great.
I didn't get to the race until about 10 minutes before it started (some transportation confusion on both my and my hippie friend's part).
I didn't know how I would feel about only inviting one friend to be there. And when I got to the race, it felt pretty lonely.
Everyone had a running partner.
Except yours truly.
But I've trained alone. (Actually I hadn't ran 4 miles since Paris, which we are approaching about a month since pretty soon, yeah, I know). This school year is about learning to be independent again.
Wasn't it supposed to be easy by now?
I spent a month alone in Paris.
And have spent so much time alone here in Memphis the past few weeks.
Haven't I reached the threshold yet?
Aren't I supposed to not care about that boy anymore? It was over in May. Not my fault. He chose something else. You get over it. Its been months.
I'm on a great adventure by myself now.
Why should I feel like anything is missing?
Why do I feel so alone in a huge crowd of people?
So self conscious. So nervous.
God, I have to pee. Do I have time to pop a squat in that port-a-potty before they start the race? Should I risk it? It would be awful to get out and realize everyone has already gone. I better wait. Maybe I will run faster if I have to pee.
And why are there so many old people here with all these official running shirts? Did Santa just say he is running the St. Jude Full Marathon? I'm 21, at least half his age, and I'm only running half?
And then there's all the beautifully unique and artsy midtowners who have come out to stretch their trained legs and push their artsy babies in sporty strollers through the streets of midtown.
"For those doubts that swirl all around us, for those lives that tear at the seams,
We know, we're not what we've seen."
So many crazy, rushed thoughts.
And then someone shouts. And more cheer. And you look up.
And there's a mass of humans running away.
In Memphis, this usually means someone just got shot.
Just kidding.
It's an incredible sight.
But you don't have much time to wait around staring, it's time to go.
So you feed in through the finish line like cows and once you hit the sensor box, the mass moves quickly.
As a sidenote, races these days imbed a sensor into either your number or on a disposable bracelet people wear or put on their shoes. In essence, when the race is over, it isn't necessarily the person that crosses the finish line first that wins. Since you start in different waves (I was in wave 2 of 3, as determined by the anticipated pace time I entered on my registration form), you won't know who is first until everyone is done.
One piece of advice I've repeatedly been told is to stay at my pace and don't feel a need to stay with the front of the crowd. I kept that in mind as I moved with the masses trying to cool my adrenaline.
The first song that came on my running playlist was by far the best song my phone could have bestowed upon my ears right then.
"Marchin On" by OneRepublic.
It is a song of this era of my life. Push through. Despite everything I'm not (a generic church member, a 7 minute/mile runner, a girlfriend, the best friend, highly intellectual, creative, business minded), I march on.
"There's so many wars we fought, there's so many things we're not,
But with what we have, I promise you that,
We're marchin' on."
I march on for who I am.
Which, a lot of the time, is alone.
But for that 38 minutes of running, I ran with "friends," with people who shared my passion. Maybe with some running through their own personal struggles.
With people who, in a way, had been down my path for a little bit, integrating exercise into their life for at least the last little bit.
"For this dance, we'll move with each other. 
There ain't no other step than one foot right in front of other."
Running that race was an incredibly unique experience that only Cooper Young could give.
It is an area that creatively expresses their intelligence and prides themselves on community.
There were so many people along the neighborhood streets to cheer us on. Many threw lawn parties just before the race and cheered with their friends as we ran by. Some held signs for their friends who were running. Several had bubble machines and disco lights out.
And when I thought I didn't have any breath left, they made me realize I had enough to laugh from the bottom of my lungs with such pure and exhilarating joy that could only be produced halfway through a race.
Some held out beer cans for anyone who thirsted.
And some held them while wearing a homemade toga.
Yes, a toga party of middle aged adults. "To-ga, To-ga, Go-ga, Go-ga," they shouted. Animal House, anyone?
For the middle bit of the race I was running behind what I thought was the Jolly Green Giant. After the race I realized he was dressed as a green crayon.
I was beaten by a green crayon.
Only Cooper Young.
I try and sprint the last .1 mile (at least), but as I round the corned with around .2 left, I couldn't help, but sprint like the dickens, what with the finish in sight. Thank God I did-I beat a girl in my division by a mere second.
It felt amazing to sprint that last bit with outrageous cheers for all of us as everyone waited for their friends. Mine was there, too to give me an incredibly huge and rewarding hug. I have to admit, I love the attention.
I finished 38th out of 116.
Top one-third. 
Not bad, huh?
I even managed to keep about a 9:30 minute/mile. A much faster pace than normal.
Maybe I didn't managed to keep my normal paced. But I never stopped.
I marched on. 
I not only marched on, but with a high that I would never get from any drug.
Or love.
I did this. No one else.
"We'll have the days we break, And we'll have the scars to prove it.
We'll have the bonds that we save, but we'll have the heart not to lose it."

Fight, Love, and Figure It Out

As I try and figure out where my life is going I can't help but keep Fight Club in the back of my head. It makes me wonder why I am doing what I'm doing. Why this?
To help my (possible) 80 years on earth go by easier?
I find myself hating business even more, it almost seems dehumanizing, yet at the same time, I enjoy marketing and analyzing basic behaviors.
Well, not so basic since they revolve around the modern marketplace.
Regardless.
It is fun to understand how we think and why.
One of my favorite authors, Rob Bell, recently put out a book called "Love Wins." Like many of his works, he tears away all the stupid religion of Christianity and looks at the basics.
How...organic?
I'm not done with it yet, but it is incredibly moving.
Everytime I read one of his books, it reminds me that "it doesn't have to be like this."
Nothing does.
I don't have to be a business major for anyone. I don't have to protest soldier's funerals or tell people to "turn or burn" to love God.
How I love God is unique to me, I'm made in His image, so why not embrace it.
I fall along a weird line of too liberal for business and not "artsy" enough to be an art student. A friend of mine tells me that makes a great talent manager.
Who knows.
It is weird to ride the line like this, but I feel like I am finally coming to accept it. Accept I will never be a great artist and I don't have to want to be great in business. I'm not really sure where that puts me, but who knows.
There is a part of me that enjoys the blank slate feeling.
But another part that says "you have so much potential, what are you going to do with it? Don't waste your time fucking around."
But is it wasted time if you come to understand yourself better?
Like in "Eat, Pray, Love."
Spending a year finding yourself and being, by the American standard, unproductive didn't work out so bad, after all, huh?
Unfortunately I don't have the funds to conjure up a trip to Italy, India, and Bali.
But I think I've got an equally awesome adventure ahead of me.

Put on the Pull Ups. Or maybe just go do some instead.

I've really gotten into this fitness thing. I find that I truly rely on it whenever I have self doubts. In fact, I've started keeping working clothes in my car for any impromptu visits to the gym to see what group classes are going on. I still refuse to do gym yoga, I like my yoga on the spiritual side and I feel like it gets watered down in a gym.
And the more I workout, naturally the more endorphins I produced making me happier. Another side benefit is that I crave crappy food less. I associate the consequences of a bad workout much closer to eating bad food since more and more of my time is filled with fitness and therefore closer to when I eat.
I really love going to this cycling class at 7 am on Monday/Wednesday. It allows me to wake up before the rest of the world and get going. I guess I feel like I get to stay a step ahead of everyone else. The class is really intense, but it is nice to sweat things out before "life" starts everyday. And then talk things over with a really good friend of mine right after who is taking the class with me.
She is an incredible human who has grown a lot with me the past few years. A few years ago we were VERY different people. We were good friends then, but after all these changes, even better ones now. And we have had very different life circumstances, so that is a miracle in itself that we are even still close.
They say that when the student is ready to learn, the teacher appears. And so it has. Whenever I move into a different chapter of my life, someone from another part of life pops up, ready to teach me.
She has guided me through all the hard times of my relationship and has discovered independence with me. She is my free spirit companion. I feel freer and think more freely with her. My adorable hippie companion who sprung out of the same hurts and went through different trials to get where we are now. After school we will still be on different paths, but I have feeling we will stay close forever.
I've come upon another who has taught me compassion and grace. She is a graceful human with the biggest of hearts. Someone I could lay out on a blanket in the sun with all day (which we did) just enjoying life quietly or talking about the pettiest of things (who would you leave your significant other for or cheat on with? General consensus being Paul Rudd and Matthew McConaughey). She is someone who is spiritually strong and in a way reminds me of my personal path of finding God in places outside the church. She is just generally that great and loyal friend that everyone needs.
Then there is my amazing friend in Orlando. I wish more than anything in the world that he lived here, but then he would not be who he is and I would not learn to be just that much stronger like I am now. He is always there to make me laugh. Or there to just listen to me go through a 5 minute rant (which actually lasts an extra 55 minutes). He always makes time for my phone calls. And my tears. He would never offer to beat up a guy for me (well, maybe) because, at the end of it all, he encourages me to be who I am because that is perfect enough and better than (insert stupid boy's name here) will ever be. Sure, he exaggerates, but it is nice to hear from time to time.
You may not need a hippie in your life (I do), but you definitely need someone like those two.
In a way, I feel like they are all I have here.
But, what else do I need?
Sure, I may only have two friends to call if I want to do something, but they are two amazing people I trust with my soul. They are people I have let my guard down completely with and I love them for that. In a way, I naturally fear it, because a lot of times, things go badly and you regret ever opening your mouth.
Plus, I'm independent, right?
I can do things by myself now, right?
I have to be a big girl now.

Running It Alone

One of the benefits of being virtually cut off from your social life in the states in Paris is, as I said before, there are plenty of things to do, one of my favorites was walking or taking the metro over to one of the many parks.
I always went by myself and had a fabulous time. Unfortunately, Memphis has horrid public transportation (as do many cities) and makes going to the park a bit more of a hassle.
Because the streets are so busy, I can't really run to the park.
In essence I have to drive to go running.
Or run amongst the "little boxes" of suburbia.
But still I hate driving, so it will have to do.
It was nice to be cut off for a while and have some time to myself. I have come to really miss that about being in Paris. Of course, I would eventually make friends if I ever moved there and have people who care enough to call or text from time to time which would certainly alter all that "alone time," but still. For a while it a was a nice perk of being abroad.
No one expected much except an occasional Facebook post just to know I'm alive. Another reason I love flying.
It is a little harder to fall off the face of the planet here. Fortunately I have a plethora of folks that would notice if I went missing off the Facebook or seemed to be without a phone. I don't deserve any of them, but am so thankful that I have them anyway.
So I just go running. And even opt to turn off the phone for the day. Next time, I should remember to let people know I'm alive at least, ha.
It was a really great weekend away from it all, just cooped up in the house. Thinking, planning, cleaning. Getting anxious.
I have a run in a week and a half.
It's my first one.
Originally, the St. Jude Half Marathon was going to be my first one. Sure, it is a huge and official race (even a Boston Marathon qualifier), but I am running it in the company of my brother (who will actually probably leave me behind), so it shouldn't be so bad.
But still, I felt like I needed the social challenge of doing something on my own. Sure, I train by myself, but the thought of having to figure out all these packet pick ups and starting line stuff brings me such anxiety that I figured I should man up, get some independence, and do the first one on my own.
I guess my anxiety means I'm alive right?

Living in the States Again

It was weird to be back. Well, only for the first 2 hours I was home in the states before I fell asleep.
English, english all around and not a drop of French. It makes me feel a little sad and slightly useless for having taken French, but alas, what do you do?
Lights. Artificial, neon, fast food, and basically aesthetically screaming lights. They are everywhere. I could have swore that Paris was the city of lights. But, at night, you only have the sweet glow of street lamps, other than that, it is pretty dark. Paris is...strict?...on their lighting. Less is more kind of concept. I know it is stupid be talking about the ambiance that lights bring and the difference between us and Paris, but still, it was weird.
I have definitely gained weight being home. Despite my eating at least one pastry or dessert every day, all the food is so much healthier over there. Even though I ingested a lot of pizza, mcdonald's, wine, pasta, and a plethora of other seemingly unhealthy foods, I actually lost weight. And I really didn't run as much. I wasn't burning nearly as many calories here. I take in so much more in calories, fat, and carbs here than there (and I even spent a good bit of my days practicing the "art of doing nothing").
My short trip back in Orlando was just that. A short, surreal, blur. It was great to be back and go out to Jellyrolls for the first time (if you are ever at Disney definitely make a trip over to the Boardwalk to hang out, maybe get a kitchen sink, and end up a jellyrolls for a great time), but overall, after my first 2 hour emotional frenzy of being back, it was pretty calm. No rushing around trying to do things one last time. After the emotional rollercoaster I just got off of, I wanted to cry as little as possible, so (and this is very out of character for me) I tried to avoid things that were sentimental.
I was ready to get back to Memphis and tackle this year. And I was going to try my best to leave without leaving so much of my heart behind. It helped that a fellow Hospitality major was down on a internship to kind of give me a Memphian presence and remind me that I had to go back and finish what I started.
And so I have.
I even left Orlando an hour and a half earlier than anticipated, leaving my roommate with a quick and sleepy hug so we both didn't get hysterical. I wanted to drive as if I was just going out for the day, returning soon.
And I did.
A quick hug goodbye.
Be back later.
And being back in Memphis has also been a surreal blur of a week. Rushing from class to class, catching up on what I missed and catching up with people I haven't seen since May. Returning to those relationships and spending the time to catch them up and get them back on track to strengthen them. As much I as just want to stay away from them and purely focus on getting done, I have to remember I still have another 8 months here and, really, there are some incredible people here.
My friend asked me the other day why I wasn't going to the football game. In all honestly, Memphis isn't all that great, so that's a lot of time and effort to watch a sport that I think is slow and boring just to watch us lose.
"But it's your senior year."
Holy Buddah.
It is my senior year.
This is it.
This is my last labor day weekend. Only one more Fall break. One advising session. One more semester to plan. One more Thanksgiving and Christmas in Memphis. And I may not even be here for Christmas.
I can't believe it's almost over. There is so much I still want to do.
The race is almost over.

Paris: Day 30, 31, & 31.5

This post was written at the Charles De Gaulle Airport and unfortunately was not posted there since they only offer free internet for 15 minutes there, plus my computer died just as I was about to hop up and board. Boo!

As I sit here for my last 20 minutes in Paris I can’t help but reflect on what an amazing personal journey Paris has been for me. Sure, I’m no Parisian, nor will I ever be, but this city happened to be the backdrop for an amazing transition in my life that I wouldn’t change for the world.

Instead of feeling alone and empty, I rediscovered things that I used to love, like art and, as the Italians say it in some Italian way, “The art of doing nothing” along the banks of the Seine or in my local park. I accomplished goals, understand and spoke better French, and also missed out on some things, but, above all, I learned to recognize my happiness and accept the amazing life I have.

One aspect of my trip that occurred everyday without my realizing were magical moments. At Disney, these are moments to make someone feel special. You go out of your way a bit and just make someone’s day. Everyday these last 2 weeks I had a small humorous exchanged in French or took a picture of a family in front of the Eiffel tower or one of the many monuments around Paris.

It brought me home.

Sure, it is small and stupid and maybe I only do it for selfish reasons, but it felt good to be “home” for a moment behind a camera with a family in front of me, so excited that they will have a fireplace picture of them all on their trip. No matter what language they spoke, the hand signals for “you want me to take your picture” were universal. And the smile of gratitude worthwhile.

I felt like it opened me up more, I became less shy to strangers (I’m always outgoing at home in the states). With this I took in more French culture more openly, understanding we all want a lot of the same things. The picture of your family in front of the Arc du Triomphe. To watch a strangle playfully interact with your beautiful child (best done on the metro where everyone is a bore). To learn about another culture (you’re waiting in line anyway, why not ask how much Jack Daniels the Memphian drinks, answer: none since I accidentally ingested some at the age of 11 mistaking it for coke).

My last few days were packed. I realized how much French just love converting useless building to Art museums. Considering all the hype it is probably their best economic opportunity: how many more ancient churches can you create and profit off of? Take the old train station and put old art in it instead.

Despite my cynical attitude, going to Musee D’Orsay, an art museum house in an old train station was a unique experienced. It was so open and grand a beautiful. Had I been told the idea, I would have been like “you want to put Seurat in what?”

Can you imagine putting that place together? Which painting or sculpture to you put just beyond the entrance? Where do you put the famous Monet painting so it appeals but doesn’t overshadow?

It works though.

And they were renovating, too, so it smelled of fresh paint. It made me feel as if these paintings were hot off the press, er, easel. Ha!

The middle was a line of sculptures. Several interesting looked like facebook poses. I will try and find picture later for you (no pictures allow in the museum, sad). To either side were “salles” or rooms of paintings. Lots of Degas, but no one cared about Degas before 1870, judging from the lack of people in these salles. Poor guy. Oh well, they were really only commissioned painting of family portraits anyway. He was me with a brush back then. Taking in the scene for the family to go above the fireplace. Mind you mine probably just go on facebook.

Nudity, nudity, nudity. I’ve grown used to and almost bored with all the nudity. The greeks do great in their sculptures and many of the French paintings are beautiful as well, but as soon as I walked into a room where the center picture was a very clearly depicted vagina on canvas, I decided that maybe the layout committee hadn’t done such a great job and maybe I wasn’t as used to nudity as I thought and maybe I simply didn’t think ALL the nude paintings were beautiful. Keep your 19^th century porn to yourselves. Ironically this painting was called beginning of the world.

Ha.

In one of the rooms, I discovered the Toulouse (as in from the movie Moulin Rouge) was very really. He was a painter that painted the dancers and was looked down upon by many, and I believe including his family (which is similar to Christian’s story in the movie).

As I moved through centuries of art, remember many of them from my own past in study, I couldn’t help but try and remember how I, as a child, saw these paintings. What did I think of them then? What stood out? Did I really even care then? I’m reading another book by Malcolm Gladwell called “What the dog saw.” It is basically a collection of his articles for the New York Times. Not as interesting as his other books, but still neat. In an article I have yet to reach he discusses some dog mind reader or dog calmer and how he wants to know what it’s like to do that for a living. Later, he wonders, wait, what does the dog see? What does the dog think?

What was Seurat thinking when he painted that ball?

What did he see? What did Monet see as he painted his garden or the sea? It makes me wish I had gone to see Giverny, where his home and garden are.

If I created art, what would others see?

I’m also reading “Eat, Pray, Love.” And honestly, I should have read it much sooner. While she is in Italy, she it told by an Italian (a roman specifically) that every city has a word.

Rome’s is Sex. The Romans are always playing with it, fighting for it, dressing for it. Everyday. Apparently in Naples it is Fight, obvious since she saw a lot of aggression there. What would the states be?

Then he asks her what hers is? And she has no idea.

And neither do I. I think I want it to be life. I feel like I really try to soak up life as much as I can, so maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. Who knows?

It is this conscious thought that I have come to appreciate. After reading “The Happiness Project” I’m more aware of my interests. After seeing all this art, I see the world a little more beautifully. And looking forward to this blog makes me think more analytically and more “bigger picture” like, if there is a word for that, sorry I didn’t use it.

Oh, gotta go board! See you in North America!

Paris: Day 28 & 29

Happy 100th post to me!

Whoop Whoop!

My mom always taught me that every mess can be cleaned up and every situation made anew. This kept running through my head as I just cleaned up half of my dinner that was ever so carefully spilled on the counter. Mind you, I'm super broke at this point in my trip and food is getting rationed, ha.

Today wasn't such a great day, I didn't do much and spent most of it sulking (wanting to be home) and sleeping (so I didn't have to think about being home).

We talked about the stereotypes that other countries are perceived to have in class. As you can imagine, the United States isn't so loved.

We were asked to write down what we thought others would say about our country, and, I, for the most part was pretty accurate.

The first adjective was obese.

Fair enough.

Next was sports.

Oh, the irony.

I suggested that maybe they meant we liked to watch sports a lot.

Emotional came next.

That one, I didn't predict. But, understandable.

Concern with business.

Then, as expected, debt. We love to run up debt to keep buying things. Direct quote (translated from French, of course).

Ethnocentric.

Saw that coming, too. Especially when we were discussing the other represented countries and I didn't know what to say about half of them except what their average climate was.

We like war.

Embarassing.

At least they said we were very nice.

I couldn't help, but feel down about it. And afterwards, I went to Musee D'Orsay, anticipating a free entry, but was denied for not having a passport. A first so far. Students who are in the European union and are under 26 get in free to all public museums and with a heavy discount to private ones. This was my first problem. Before, I have only needed a student ID and an ID showing my age.

Since I didn't have the cash to spare, I had to opt out. Being tight on money severely limits things you can do anywhere. In Paris there are plenty of parks and of course the river to enjoy, all for free. I wasn't in the mood though. There was no pulling me out of this rut. I should have gone running, but instead I stayed at home.

I know, wasted time in Paris.

I made up for it by cramming in a lot of it yesterday.

First the museum des arts et metiers. Basically a museum for technology. It was neat, basically just a bunch of old communication and media devices. Glad I didn't pay for it to be honest.

Afterwards was Rodin (the sculptor). Now this, I would have paid for (but still happy it was free). I love Rodin's work. He is probably my favorite sculptor, so this museum was high on my must do list. I have yet to furrow my brow to reflect or understand emotion evicted from art here in Paris as much as I did there. He is so amazing. His ability to express emotion and body language is second to none. Plus his sculptures (most famous being "The Thinker") were outside in beautiful gardens on a wonderfully beautiful and sunny day. Another famous one of his, "The Kiss," and of course one of my favorites, too, was inside a house where many of the models were for the bigger structures. I could go on forever talking about how amazing each piece was, but I won't bore you. They did, however, dedicate to his and Monet's friendship.

They each owned pieces of the other's work that sort of reflected the other in the respective mediums. In life, we have relationships like these. Beautiful friendships or romantic relationships that are so great, their benefits are recognized by all. I have several friendships that I cherish because I know they aren't beneficial to just us, but that they extend beyond us, creating happiness and good things for a lot of people.

My roommate in Orlando is probably the epitome of that. While we were skyping tonight, she mentioned that we were soul mates in a friendship way. And I think that is completely true. We are two souls who complete each other. Who discover and explore the world in different ways, but blend together in a beautiful masterpiece. We are always looking to tag team and help others out and go on our own adventures. She is one of my greatest inspirations. And my friendship with her is the guide for how I would want a relationship and marriage to be. Isn't that what they are anyway? Extended friendships.

After Rodin I explored the Marmotten Monet Museum. A lot of impressionistic work, my favorite time period, and of course, a lot of Monet. I loved going straight from Rodin to Monet and seeing bits of Rodin in his work or his life. I wonder if I ever had a museum who all would make it in? I didn't like having to pay for it, but because I love impressionism, I guess it was worth the 5 euros.

Last was Musee Quai Branley. Basically Art meets Anthropology. A really neat museum in and of itself, but not really "my type." The gardens themselves were beautiful and made the trip out there worth it.

Paris: Day 27

Today I didn't feel like going to class.

So...I didn't.

I slept in and unsuccessfully attempted to go to the catacombs. They're closed on Mondays. As are most museums.

That is, except The Louvre (notable for the Mona Lisa) and Pompidou (modern art known for having its piping on the exterior).

So to the Louvre I went. And I fought through the crowds to see a painting I really don't care for anyway (the Mona Lisa). Despite all the rumors, the rest of the museum was crowded, too. I guess when there are really only 2 museums open on Mondays, you really can't expect much else. I realized more and more than I should have taken Italian as I perused through the rooms. Of course, you have to choose in advance what you want to check out as far as era goes, you could never see it all in a day and I wasn't coming back for sure. I love Italian sculptures and paintings. Greek sculptures are awesome, too. I mean, the French are really only good for Impressionism and a few others. Even the city's most famous art piece is Italian (Italy has been fighting to get Mona back forever to no avail).

I love going alone. I felt bad for the families who clearly didn't want to be there, but were only there for dad, who was also miserable because he felt rushed. It was nice to walk around at my own pace and not talk to anyone. In fact, I didn't talk to anyone all day, except to ask to print something at CEA's office and tonight when I got home. I should have more days of silence. It feels good to just take things in: art, passing conversation, and just general scenery of life. Take it all in to my own soundtrack. Today was Washed Out's latest album as well as the soundtracks for The Italian Job (something I always listened to when I was doing art homework in high school, plus, hey, I'm in love with the Italians now) and Ocean's 11 (which made me really want to plot to steal art, but in that case I guess I should have been listening to Ocean's 12). From there I had lunch at the Carousel, basically an underground mall. Nothing notable, just Italian mall food.

After the Louvre I swung by the CEA office to print some things for school and to book my shuttle for Saturday to the airport. I can't believe it is almost time to go home. I feel like I am reverting back to my American ways quickly. Doing all these touristy things puts me in more contact with Americans than French, which in a way, makes me miss home and is making me a little less culturally accepting of the French right now. I don't want to speak anymore French or try a new French cafe. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm tired of trying new things right now. And that's one of my favorite things in life. I want to go do the touristy stuff and go home, just as if I were on vacation.

Close-minded, I know.

It was refreshing to get the Pompidou and see much more modern and thought provoking art. Sorry but I can only look at so many commissioned pieces of art that art just stupid portraits.

Pompidou is definitely my favorite museum so far, with its quirky layout that justly reflects the beautiful modern art it hosts. Including Duchamps' urinal. One of my personal favorites. They also play host to the Inside Out Project. Basically you get in a booth to take a picture of yourself to be printed on a poster with a dot on it. They want you to display it somewhere in the city. A neat idea, but honestly, had it not closed before I got there, I would have done it just to take home as a free souvenir, ha!

All that walking made me so very tired so I headed home to rest before eating some good ole American McDonald's. I'm reluctant to cook as of late because that's dishes I have to do before we leave. Psh.

I finished the Happiness Project today. I feel like it has already brought me so much happiness, or at least awareness to how great my life is and how much I need to just be true to me. One point that I read today that I loved was talking about giving positive reviews. I used to love to be critical of things because it made me feel smarter, and rightly so. You appear smarter if you have something critical to say about something. Yeah, and I also used to just read books or watch movies I didn't like, but said I did to seem like I liked the more educationally profound things in life, too.

Be true to Madison.

If I enjoyed something, I shouldn't be ashamed or look first to find flaw. She noted that you should always try and find something positive to say. She gives the example of a friend that passionately loves Barry Manilow. They went to a concert, and while she could have been critical and said something about how the graphics were poor or blah blah blah, she talked about how great his voice was live, even though she only went to the concert for her friend and didn't really care for him.

Had she made the negative comment, it would have invalidated her friend's happiness. I hate it when people put down my happiness and passions, why would I do the same?

I have a friend that absolutely loves working for Disney and simply loves theme parks in general, especially coasters. I get so tired of talking about working or listening to things going on at work or at other theme parks that sometimes I get short with him. But most of the time, I admire him for realizing his passions and engaging them to the fullest. No shame whatsoever. I wish I had that kind of courage.

And I should.

After finishing the book, the John Mayer song "No Such Thing" came to mind. There really isn't such thing as the real world after all. Go out and live your dreams and passions now. I am so excited about life and I truly believe in finding a career I will be crazy about once I decided to give up the addiction to something I didn't love after college. And seeing my friend live his dream is so inspiring.

I wouldn't want to be one of the negative people in my life that puts me down, but still draws on my positive energy. You can hardly stay afloat with people like that.

And my friends deserve better.

Paris: Day 25 & 26

Woo. My last weekend in Paris is over!

On Saturday we took a day trip up to Honsfleur, a port city in the North. We had a pit stop to switch to a bus in Trouville. A small town with a happening market, huge beach, and interestingly swedish like architecture. We roamed, perusing the market and exploring the beach. Simply breathing the fresh sea air.

I don't know what it is, but just knowing I am near the beach makes breathing the air even better. I feel instantly rejuvenated. I should live on the beach. Or maybe I would get too used to it.

The bus ride to Honfleur was hilly and filled with large homes overlooking the ocean from the cliff. They also had yards, something I forgot houses had from living in Paris. With the exception of the language and all the flowers, the port area was just like back home where we keep our own boat. It really made me a little homesick. As we walked around, many of the homes were in a neighborhood that reminded me of my own, just small houses, yards, and streets. We roamed a little more after eating at a restaurant whose name translates into "The cat that fishes."

Strange I know.

I didn't eat all my food.

I never do.

I think it is going to eat slow, recognize when you're full, and know when to stop. This, of course, doesn't apply to dessert. I have a separate, unlimited shelf for that.

I think the French find it rude. But that's just because genetics blessed them with smaller bones (well they don't drink much milk anyhow) and higher metabolisms. Every french person I eat with drinks every drop of wine and eats every crumb off their plate.

That's a lot of food when I eat several course meals with them. I mean, back home, I just order appetizers a lot and still don't finish them.

On the train ride back I watched wishfully as the French countryside passed. I wish there was a way to experience it all. Study in Paris, study in rural France, and on the French Riviera.

I want to do it all.

But I guess all you can do is hope the train breaks down and walk for a while - mind the Jack Johnson reference.

I came home and crashed. And rested for up for my last day at Disneyland Paris.

It was a great time and honestly a relaxing one without a lot of rushing. We had already done a lot and simply roamed and watched shows. I traded pins for a friend back home. I have never understood Disney pin trading. I think it is stupid.

Well, I did.

After today, I find it fun and intriguing. I don't think I will ever be a serious collector, but I would love to delve in and look around for things that peak my interest. I found several country bear jamboree pins, despite Paris not having the show.

Crazy!

Well I've got to rest up for an intense week of things I still haven't done.

Much love!

Paris: Day 24

Tomorrow begins my last week in Paris. I really can't believe it is nearly over. I still have so much I want to see and do.

On my walk to school today I thought about how much I was going to miss that walk everyday. And I wondered if I could start walking to class in Memphis. Then I remembered that I have more than just one class with a tiny book. Harvey (my car) is basically a huge locker for me throughout the day.

After class I ran a few errands and took a wonderful nap in the sunshine. My bed is right next to the window and it is almost always open. It felt great to sleep with sunshine on my face.

On my walk I thought more and more about my unofficial impromptu "happiness project." As I have been reading, I have been absent-mindedly thinking and trying to apply little things I read to my life. I would really love to do the project in 2012. Maybe I could get a few people to join in, too and we could all blog about it!

Even though I am away from my friends, I'm definitely becoming happier. Mostly just by recognizing more and more of who I am. Instead of denying myself things daily, I try and say yes immediately if I can. Vague, I know. For instance, if I wanted to listen to another song, just that song, on my way to school, I wouldn't do it unless I wanted to listen to the whole album. I felt like there HAD to be a theme or one album for the commute to school. Now, if I want to listen to a song and maybe switch again, I will.

I know it sounds stupid, but that's just the small example.

Now, I allow myself to dream. No more planning, only dreaming. Before I wouldn't allow myself to think about moving to Orlando or think about anything but "getting through" now. I stayed in the present, so that I could get to the future. A future that deep down, I knew I wasn't going to enjoy. I sacrificed all the time like I was some damn work and/or school martyr. I spent too much of my time resume building and not enough living. I realized that if I keep "sacrificing now" to benefit later for everything, I never get to the fun part.

I think there is a big difference in sucking things up for now to get what you know you want later and gritting your teeth through life just because what you're doing or what it will bring in the future is SUPPOSED to make you happy. For instance, I HATE getting ready for a run. I procrastinate it so bad, but once I'm out there. I love it. I love my life. I love the feeling after. I get through the bad part because I know I will enjoy the results enough for it to be worth it.

I love questioning myself and not listening to others on my happiness now. I feel like I am finally learning who I am. I pay attention to what I enjoy (walking, being outside, reading everyday, music, playing video games, musicals, spending time with my family) and especially to what I don't enjoying (going out, talking about politics, business classes, luncheons). Why is it that I don't like these things? What specifically do I not enjoy and how do I learn from it to make sure I don't mistakenly waste my time doing something else. Essentially, do I hate all business classes or just business statistics?

When I was running yesterday, I felt like I climb a huge brick wall. I accepted my life. I accepted that I could change it at anytime with no obligations to anyone (well I guess after school). I love this monologue that Brad Pitt does in Benjamin Button (I think I have posted it before):

It's like I finally have the strength to start over in a way. Clean the slate. And what fun it is to do so in Paris.

Today we hit up Notre Dame. After an hour wait in line for the tower (everyone has to wait, even if you buy tickets online, I guess it is best to go early in the day for the shortest wait). European Union students get in free. That means yours truly since I go to Sorbonne! Gosh the perks of being a student in Europe are SO much better than in the states. When I figure out what I'm doing with my life, maybe I will come back for school.

We climbed for what seemed like forever. Oh it hurt so bad.

I can run 8 miles, but climbing stairs? Ugh.

At the top though, it was worth the climb.

The beauty of the gothic architecture was more than I could have ever imagined it to be. Now I want to go watch the hunchback of notre dame.

From there we were off to Montemarte, my favorite part of town with all its artsy flair. There were more stairs to climb this time at Sacre Coeur, but the view was even better. I'm definitely going back to Sacre Coeur one last time before I leave. I love being in Montemarte, but especially just being in Sacre Coeur. As anti-church as I have been the last few years, it is nice to enjoy church without having to deal with the judgmental people. I feel like I get something out of it everytime. And during my run yesterday, I felt like I really had time with God, too. As if it was a follow up from the last time I was at Sacre Coeur, with no answers and really no way to formulate questions.

It was like it hit me yesterday to just accept. "Be still and know that I am God."

I have no idea where life is taking me, but I think I like that better.

More dreaming.

Less planning.

Paris: Day 23

Today on my walk to school, I thought a lot about my dad and my family back home. I'm a pretty big daddy's girl, though, so mostly him.

After living with several different people this summer, I miss coming home and just sitting around and talking to my dad. I know, that at the end of the day, he will always be there. Things may be going horrible in school, but he's just proud I made it this far. I may get screwed over by friends, but he's always there to remind me not to waste my time or tears. And even though I suck at relationships, I can always come home to my dad.

As much as I travel and see the world, I always come home to dad.

If some boy breaks my heart, there's always dad, waiting at home. Sure, he isn't the type to cry to, but at least I know he would never hurt me. And its times like those that I wonder why I ever seek out boys anyway. I sometimes feel like it is a bit of a replacement process, finding a boy or husband. Generally, girls want someone to take care of them. And before some guy, there was dad. I can't imagine replacing my dad.

And if I get to 30 and I'm still single, I don't think I will be all that stressed. There's always dad waiting at home. I almost feel like "A Rose for Emily." Hopefully I get a better ending, ha!

Being alone in Paris has made me realize a lot about myself. That its okay not to have a relationship. And, if I don't by 30, I think I will adopt. I will eventually want to share my life with someone, and let's face it, dad won't ALWAYS be there.

I also realized that pain is much more useful than happiness. Going through hurt and loneliness put me in great shape. In fact, I hit and surpassed the halfway point for the half marathon I'm training for today. It clears my head and gives me a goal. I'm going to really try and commit to fitness and family this Fall. By focusing on me here in Paris, I realized those are spots where I am weak and would really love to improve.

I even got the guts to admit to myself that the life I've been planning isn't what I want. There's no sense in continuing something I don't enjoy just because I already put a lot into it. That is sunk cost for you. The time is already spent, now how do I better the future?

Today was an easy day. I went running after class (nearly 8 miles!) and had a great time. I realized that the first couple of miles are the most trying. If I can get through those, I can get through anything. It is in those first two miles that I am more likely to stop or quit. I start to feel all the junk food I ate and the lack of water I didn't drink the last few days. But it is through pushing yourself that progress is made.

And so I ran.

And ran.

And sweat.

And pushed on.

And got lost.

And ended up running an extra mile and a half.

And it was beautiful.

And just like the bathtub effect, I wonder why I don't do it everyday. It is just a matter of getting myself out there. I need to dedicate more time this fall to that.

Afterwards we went down to the Eiffel Tower. And I remembered how much I hate heights. Climbing up all those stairs made me realize: 1)How much my calf muscles hate me today 2)How much of that tower is just stupid steele 3)The view is always worth the work

I had a farewell picnic tonight since the new group comes this next week. Since it was cloudy all day we moved to Cafe Rouge near republique and it was hands down my favorite cafe yet. It was awesomely decorated (the back room is 3 stories, ground floor and two floors of simple 3 foot space all around, creating a beautiful atrium effect). They apparently also give salsa lessons there. I have got to go back before I leave.

We spent forever talking and enjoying dinner with the program coordinator. Nearly 2 and a half hours worth of conversation. I loved it. Food always tastes and digests better with great conversation.

Just over a week left and so many adventures to be had!

Paris: Day 22

Today, in "The Happiness Project" (okay I'm tired of typing that out, from now on it shall be referred to as THP, thanks for your cooperation), I was reading about spirituality.

The funny thing was that she spoke of spirituality and didn't necessarily play favorites on her religion. She mentioned a few spiritual heros of differing religions, but I think that's okay and, honestly, pretty smart. I learn a lot about my own beliefs by seeing others.

In fact, I learn a lot about myself (especially what I am not, or at least hope not to be) by looking to others. There is a girl on the program, maybe several, that use complaining as conversation. Gosh I hope I'm not that girl.

And I honestly feel bad for them. How hard it must be to live life with such a negative output. The worst part is, that I have had many friends in the past like that. HAD is a great word to use. People like that tend to disrespect more positive people, seeing them as naive or immature. I feel like I've experienced enough pain in my life to be considered "weathered" and I'm a decent student, not an idiot. This is something else she touched on, positive people being put down by negative ones. It was if she read my thoughts.

I have felt disrespected so many times because people think I have it easy or completely disregard any opinion I may have just because I try and stay positive. I will have you know, it is a lot harder to stay positive (especially with people like that around) than it is to be negative. It is ALWAYS harder than you think for someone to continue to be easy going and seemingly happy. Not that they are faking it, but happiness takes skill and effort.

I'm not the happiness person on the planet or the greatest example of a positive life, but it really hit home when she talked about being called stupid or an air head for thinking that way. I can name several people who have thought the same of me. It is hard enough to try and stay positive all the time, I'll be damned if I keep someone around that only makes it harder.

Speaking of happiness, we headed to Disneyland Paris again for the day. This time we went to Hollywood Studios first since it always closes earlier. We did the backlot tour (nothing notable, except "RC" is present), Tower Of Terror (much more thrilling), Crush Coaster (hands down my favorite ride in Paris), and Rock N Roller Coaster (not the same theme of winning passes, just "hey aerosmith decided to design a coaster....lame!).

It was amazing to listen as every single cast member was bilingual in French and English and ocassionally others. I can't imagine working like that everything, repeating everything twice in 2 different languages.

After it closed, we hit up Disneyland Park, and started with Space Mountain 2 (no known story line was given, but it was definitely more thrilling than the Orlando one), Nautilus (basically a neat little walk through), Star Tours (crap compared to Orlando's new one), Its a small World (almost the same as Orlando), and Haunted Mansion (it is called phantom manor, a lot of the same concepts).

We ended the night with the parade, like spectromagic but not as good, and the fireworks (so lame compared to Wishes).

I'm exhausted to say the least, but ready to go back and finish it all on Sunday!

Well, I have GOT to get some sleep.

Much love.

Paris: Day 21

The day of school after a long weekend is the same in France. Just in case you were wondering, I believe that to be a universally accepted attribute of education throughout the world.

I got up today and crammed for a test that was pushed back another day. God loves me no matter where I decide to procrastinate studying.

In class, I realized how much I just love the Italian, Sergio, in our class. He is a hilarious character in this Parisian adventure, and I think he is my favorite. Of course he is cute and just the biggest flirt ever, but I absolutely love his humor. Today we basically made up responses to sentences. His answers were things like:

"While getting my driver's license, I..." "crushed a cat"

"When I quit smoking" "My mom was very happy" and "I started drinking"

"When I saw the movie at the theater" "I was unhappy because there was no popcorn" (Sergio is infamous for hating French theater because of this)

Next we discussed how much time different countries get off from work. In case you were wondering, Finland is the top pick at 39 days a year. Looking to move? I need a roommate! I was drifting off in thought when my professor called on me (you know, in that way that they know you aren't listening at all and want to embarrass you) to ask how much the US gets off (since I am now the only American in class). I surprised myself when, off the top of my head, I responded perfectly without a second thought of translation.

As if it was completely natural.

Since I normally tell myself an answer to a question about 3 or 4 times before he gets to me, this was a wonderful victory. Plus I proved him wrong about my not paying attention.

Today I got the chance to check out L'Arc de Triomphe. Nothing spectacular if you ask me. And shopper's paradise on the Champs Elysee. I'm not a shopper, so again, nothing huge. Next was Place de la Concorde (where everyone was getting their heads chopped off back in the day). Since it is a very busy square with lots of traffic, it was hard to see the historical value. Afterwards we checked out Les Invalides. Basically an armed forces museum, but people only go for Napoleon's tomb, which is obnoxiously huge. I got in free since I'm a student and I'm not so sure it would have been worth the 9 euros otherwise.

Next we hit up Disneyland Paris for the first time since I've been here! It was so awesome to see. It really made me miss home in Orlando. I even teared up a little. The background music was exactly the same as Frontierland back home. Sadly there is no Tom's Sawyer Island or Country Bear Jamboree, so I would be jobless! We rode Indiana Jones (great if you're looking for some whiplash with your vacation) and Pirates of the Caribbean (much longer than in the states, but no Johnny Depp, tear).

As a cast member, I get in free. Which is awesome! Although I do have to pay 7 euros each way to get there on the RER. And I have to go to guest relations to get a ticket. Psh. When I buy something, a manager has to come down to give the discount through their card. And this can only be done at one terminal for every store, which is obnoxious when you keep getting moved around.

Nonetheless, every cast member that sees my ID asks so many questions with such curiosity. They want to know all about Walt Disney World, which I like better (I can't say just yet since I haven't done much here), what I do, and if I miss home. Probably one of the few genuine Parisians, but, hey, they work for Disney, what do you expect?

After the purchase is made, I am given my things, in a sealed clear bag that says "Cast Member Exclusive." Sounds snazzy, huh? Well apparently they have "inventory issues" amongst the cast. What a bunch of Parisian thiefs, ha!

On my walk to school I couldn't shake the image of this woman from the train ride yesterday. Before we left Nice, she stood outside our car, waving and smiling a smile that could only mean someone she loves is leaving for a while and while she is happy she can't help but feel alone. Why else would she stand in front of all these people by herself looking above to her loved one for 20 minutes.

True dedication.

I can't even make it onto airport property without bursting into tears. I don't know what it is, but they make me so emotional (I feel like I should reference John Mayer's "Wheel" song here, check it out).

But saying goodbye is so much more. It's adorable. It's heart wrenching to actually watch them go. I mean you can't watch anyone leave at the airport anymore and I think that is just so damn depressing. All you get is a quick hug as airport security hurries your ride along.

I guess I wonder if anyone is mentally waiting on a train track back home. And would I ever wait on a train track in front of hundreds of people just watching?

Who knows!?

I couldn't help but wonder what she would do to occupy herself while they were gone. I would run. I know that for sure now. As I moved through the streets of Paris, I watched as bakers got ready for their day. Setting out cakes and breads just so perfectly and with such care. This was completely their calling.

You could tell in their eyes.

Almost like love.

There's no rules or specific definitions for all, but you know when you see it.

And work should be love.

And the more I read the happiness factory, the more I realize how much I remind myself to think about what makes me happy. Not what everyone thinks should make me happy or thinks I should be doing.

I made that mistake when I agreed to stay in Memphis instead of going to Central Florida for school. And I regret it nearly everyday. Things have worked out great and I won't graduate with debt. I've learned a lot. And maybe I wasn't ready.

But I won't make the mistake of letting people influence me too much again. And over the last few weeks, I have finally realized that I have to simply admit it to myself that I don't belong in an MBA program. Why waste the money?

I think I will use it to go back to school for something else.

I can't believe that I've come to accept that, in a way, the last few years of studying what people told me to study (and admittingly I found fun at first), was a waste because I refused to listen to myself.

I always felt like it was too late to turn back, when, now as I look back, it wasn't. Of course, I will still graduate with the same degree. It would be stupid to change now. But I refuse to move forward in something I don't love.

And since I love Orlando, I think I'm going to go there and be happy. And think. And really search where I am myself for where I should be going. Or maybe even staying there.

No more being afraid of being judge for working in a dream. I thought they told us that we were supposed to love our jobs? I mean, if I love it and it happens to be Disney, what's wrong with that? Why did they change the rules on me? Do they really think I can go back to a boring corporate desk job? Is that really the "potential" that I have?

No thanks. I think I will live below my potential and be happy instead.

Call me Royal Blue. (That's a Cold War Kids reference, check out "Royal Blue" when you get a chance)