Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Boyfriends, Band, and College in General.

So...I've gotten quite a few messages from some of you guys that were, to be honest, were quite frightening. Most of them threatening my life if I didn't write another blog soon. And since it's been something like four months since my last post, I guess you're kinda right.


ANYWAY. This is normally the part where I go over all the things you've missed, and catch you up on the stuff that's happened to me between the last time I posted and now. However, seeing as what you've missed this time is my entire first semester of college, I think it would be best if, instead of going over EVERYTHING, I just, kind of...sum up.


First of all, as most of you probably know from my facebook (or from me talking about him constantly), I have been dating someone for about four months now. We met at a party celebrating the end of band camp right before school started, and really hit it off. For the past few months, he has become more than just my boyfriend, he is my best friend and the person I have the most fun with, and I love him very much. Also, my cats like him. Which as you all know is extremely important to me. So, in terms of the dating scene, I am doing very nicely, thank you. Well, more than nicely. I am fantastic and VERY happy. :)

As most of you ALSO probably know, from my old posts, I took part in the Marching Scarlet and Grey this semester. However, instead of being a member of the colorguard as I was throughout high school. I played trumpet instead. I was really nervous about it at first, but I ended up loving it so much more than I thought I would, and making some amazing friends there. I also ended up in a band fraternity. No, NOT sorority. Fraternity. I know you're probably like, "Um, sweetie? Fraternities are for MEN. You are a GIRL. You in the WRONG place." But before you start questioning my femininity, let me explain. Kappa Kappa Psi is a co-ed service fraternity. Not a SOCIAL Greek organization, as most of the fraternities and sororities you probably know of are. KKPsi exists simply to serve the band, and I must say we do an excellent job. I became a brother of KKPsi in November, and I love it so much. ALSO, since the majority of you went to high school with me, I have a piece of information that will amuse you. Mr.V is ALSO a brother of KKPsi. So, me and V are technically brothers. Which I find hysterical.
Anyway, to sum up band, I absolutely made the best decision I could have ever made by joining band because it was AMAZING, and I cannot wait for next year's marching season to start.

Now I guess I should tell you about my classes...


.......That was a joke. I do NOT want to tell you about my classes. It was bad enough going through them once. Don't believe me? Let me give you a quick run-through of my Western Civ exam.

So, I think during the week of exams, I probably slept like a total of ten hours. I pulled, like, three all nighters in the space of five days. Anyway, I didn't sleep the night before my Western Civ exam because I was too busy studying for the darn thing. Because let me tell you, that class is HARD. Anyway, I get to the exam the next morning, and sit down next to my friend Micah (who, by the way is another trumpet player in the band that I adore) and we talk about how we're gonna kick the crap out of this exam, and how hard we studies, etc, etc. And so Dr. Albritton hands out these monstrously huge exams, and we look at each other, and it clear what we're both thinking.


Two guys in the back of the classroom promptly start to cry (And I'm not gonna lie, I cried with them) and people got kicked out for cheating, and my poor friend Micah started having such a mental breakdown he started drawing pictures instead of writing actual answers. But I can't really sit judgement on him- I wrote Harry Potter characters instead of people's names. I couldn't even look Dr. Abritton in the eye when I handed in my exam because I felt like I had personally offended this man by failing his exam that hard.

On the positive side, I still passed the class. So I guess it's all good.

Anyway, between midnight Taco Bell runs, late night study sessions, and those rare lazy days just hanging out in the dorm, I can pretty much say that college is the bomb.

Also, I have something that might shock a few of you. I am no longer an English major. I changed it about two months ago and I am now a Biology major.

I know what you're thinking.

"MYRA. What the CRAP. You LOVE English. It's your thing. Writing is what you DO."

Which is all true. But at the time I changed my major, I wasn't thinking along the lines of what I enjoyed doing. I was thinking along the lines of what would be a practical career choice. There are so many more job opportunities when you have a Biology degree. What was I gonna do with a degree in English??

For a long time, I was absolutely positive I had made the right choice. Now, however, I have been rethinking the whole thing. And I'm gonna be honest here, I'm scared to death I've made a really bad decision. Because English and literature is what I love. I mean, I do like science and stuff too, but I won't have a passion for it like I do for writing. (Well duh...I mean, you don't see me voluntarily putting oxidation equations and the life cycle of a tree frog on here, do you? No. It's all my writing.) But I don't want to be the spaz girl that changes her major twice in her first year of college. So now I'm kind of torn as to what to do. I mean, I could always become a double major, but it would be TOTALLY stressful, a lot more work, and all the extra hours might mean pulling out of band next year. Which I don't want. So I don't know what to do- change back to English to do what I love? Or stay Biology and have better job opportunities, even though it's not something I would truly love to do? Ugh.

Being a grown-up sucks. :(

Anyway, that's about all you've missed out on...I plan on writing again after New Year's, so keep an eye out for my next post.


(P.S, Comments or opinions on the whole "what should I do about my major thing" are appreciated.)

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Nothing Gold Can Stay. And Apparently Neither Can Anything Maroon and White.

I'd like to take a moment here to re-post a section of a entry I wrote on here at the beginning of my senior year. I was looking back on old posts and I saw this, and it was seriously surreal to me for a number of reasons.... haha :) Hopefully you guys will find it as funny as I did. :)

Ahem. So here it is.

"You know what sucks?

Time. Time SUCKS. It really, honestly does.

Flashback to first grade...

I was sitting on the floor with my friend Ford. We were arranging pictures of different objects into the categories of solids, liquids, and gases. After we had gotten done laughing about the word 'gas' (its all very funny when you're six years old) we kinda looked at each other. And I guess we had what you could call a tiny little six-year-old epiphany. He sighed and said, "I can't believe we have twelve more years of this. It's TEN MORE YEARS till we can even drive!" And I said "Yea, I know...people say it goes by really fast, but...I don't think it you?" We gave each other a look, and burst out laughing. "Nah," he said. "We're gonna be in elementary school FOREVER."

And now, Ford and I are both seniors in high school.


When did I get so old? I mean, really. Right at this moment I am wearing a class ring and my senior shirt. My SENIOR SHIRT. Because I am a SENIOR.

A SENIOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I totally cannot handle this....."

Now, if that's how I felt at the beginning of my senior year, imagine how I'm feeling NOW.

It's been a solid TWELVE YEARS since Ford and I sat on that floor making dumb little six-year-old jokes about gas.

I can't believe how fast time has gone by. If time was going the speed that I FELT it was going, I would still be somewhere in freshman year. It's going about four years too fast for me. I feel like life is one giant carousel. I just want to go up to someone and be like,

"Can you stop the ride, please?? It's going too fast and making me dizzy. I want to get off before I barf up my candied apple."

I just feel like highschool went so fast....UGH! And now all the Facebook statuses I see from my friends are along the lines of

"Moving out in five days! So excited!"

"Goodbyes are hard...."

"Wooooooooo!! Hello, College life!!!"


And then I look around at all the bags and boxes packed in my bedroom and I realize, I'm in the exact same place they are. I'm moving out in less than a week.




Not that I'm nervous or scared or anything....I mean, I'm EXCITED. It's just all so surreal to me. And I look back on that old post and I think....Dang girl, you don't even know...haha. Before you can take a breath they boot you out of school with a diploma and you just kinda stand there in your cap and gown, clueless as to what you're supposed to do. I mean, after twelve years of the same routine, you get used to it. And it's weird to think it won't BE that way anymore.


I have always been a big advocate for change. I keep saying to myself over and over, CHANGE IS GOOD.

So, with all that being said, I would like to close by saying that the adventure called high school might be over, but the EPIC sequel called COLLEGE is only just beginning. And I can't wait to see where it takes me.

Peace :)

Monday, August 8, 2011

525,600 Minutes.


The number of hours in a non-leap year.


The average number of hours spent a year sleeping.


The amount of hours a year the average person spends each year on the internet. JUST occurred to me how much we waste time in our lives. Seriously, you guys. Think about it for a minute. How many hours a day do you think you spend texting? Or talking on the phone? Or laying around watching T.V? I know I spend more time doing those things than I should.

I know, I know. I can hear all of you now.

"Myra, shutup. Stop telling me how to live my life and share a funny anecdote with us. This type of post isn't your style. So get back to the jokes and funnyness, please. You're downing me here."

But I'm SERIOUS here. It just blows my mind how much time we waste. And it may seem all fun and junk now, but think about when you're old and your children (or even your grandchildren) ask you about what you were like in your youth, and what you spent your time doing. Is this really what you want to say to them?

"Um, well. I texted a lot. You would be proud of your ol' grandma. She was the fastest texter in three counties. And I can pretty much recite every episode of Degrassi EVER. And, uh, I was really good at, like, Facebook games and stuff. I had more achievements than all of my friends on YoVille. So yeah. I was pretty beast."

What grandkid is going to run to his or her little friends and brag about THAT??? I know I wouldn't.

I'm just saying, we should all be doing more productive things with our lives....not to get all serious on you guys, but our lives are precious gifts. And they're not meant to be wasted indoors watching tv, or staring at a computer screen. (She says as she writes in her blog.....hahaha. Irony at its best.)

So go out and DO something!! For goodness' sake, life is SHORT. I feel like I closed my eyes to blink in the third grade and when I opened them up again I was halfway done with Junior year. It's insane.

It goes by faster than we think. Give people a reason to remember your name when you're gone.

Anyway guys, I'm gonna go. Mostly because I'll feel like a total hypocrite if I sit at this computer any longer after berating YOU people for doing it.

Peace. :)

Sunday, August 7, 2011


So, yeah. I've pretty much had an EPIC couple of days. Note the title- I feel lots of excess excitement about life to express lately. :)

Sigh. I really am looking forward to college (SEVEN MORE DAYS!!!!!!), but I'm going to miss summer....I'm going to miss hanging out with my best friends and just doing stupid stuff together.

Yesterday, for example. Me and two of my favorite people in the world decided that we were bored, so we were took an impromptu trip to Montgomery. Because if you can't find something to do there, you're pretty much screwed. We ended up going to the mall first (I had to get some stuff for my dorm from Earthbound) and then we went to East Chase. On the ride over there, we got onto the subject of guys (which is pretty much inevitable when you get two or more girls together) and I don't know about you guys, but with me it's kind of like this...I can be totally and completely over something that has made me mad in the past, but if I get to talking about it, I get angry all over again. So I was angry. And so were the two other girls with me. So we decided to let off steam by playing ridiculously loud music and screaming as loud as we possibly could. We were shouting so much and so loud it was hard to make out what each other was saying, but it was fun anyway. And extremely theraputic, I may add. Although a couple of people in the cars next to us did give us weird looks....

Anyway, we went to Books-A-Million, and ended up staying for like an hour. We just sat on the floor in the middle of the aisle reading random books. (On a side note, I was extremely aggravated because I was reading a Glee book and they TOTALLY got Puck's name wrong!!!! Who the hell is "Puck Puckerman!??!" NOAH Puckerman, people. NOAH!)

After that, we went to Petland. Because there are cute puppies. AND cute employees. Which is a spectacular combination. I also wanted to play with the ferrets, but one of them decided I looked tasty.

Ferrets are stupid.....


We played with a Siberian Husky puppy, which was lovely, and then we chatted with the extremely attractive guy who was her caretaker, which was even MORE lovely. And then on the way back to Wetumpka we argued over who he had looked at, talked to, smiled at more.....(IT WAS TOTALLY ME.)

To end the night, we parked at Goldstar Park and just talked about life. I LOVE those kind of talks. :) It was a fantastic night.

ANYWAY, I hate to cut this post short but I have some stuff to do....and as a wise person once said, "All great things must come to an end." :)

Peace, guys. :)

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Why is it...

That I always feel the need to blog at ridiculously late hours??? Seriously, people. It's messing with my sleeping patterns. THIS IS NOT OKAY WITH ME!

Sorry. Sometimes I feel the random urge for capital letters.

I felt like that earlier as I was instant messaging my good friend Alex on facebook. We were being indignant that no one recognized how amazing we were and wishing pain upon all people who have treated us badly. the conversation went something like this. We were talking about two guys who have NOT treated us as we deserve to be treated.


Alex- "Faggotfaces......"

Me- "TOTAL faggotfaces. Faggotfaces that break girl's hearts and dont even care. GAH I HATE THOSE GUYS!!!!"

Alex- "ME TOO. If I ever have to deal with one again, it's gonna be on like donkey corny pickup lines are the best."



Me- "Best girls EVER!!! BECAUSE WE ARE THE SHIZ!!!!"


Me- "I'll tell you what they threw it away for!!!! *NOTHING!!!* ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!! UGHJFALNHVE;HVUAE

Alex- "AMEN SISTA!!!!.......Ewww. FAGGOTFACE IS ONLINE!!!"


Alex- "They better get BAD karma for this. I'll be mad if they don't."

Me- "Oh, I know. And I mean BAD. Like TESTICULAR CANCER bad!!!!"

It went on like this for a good half hour. And then we both felt much better about our lives.

Venting is good. :)

Anywayyyyy, I am sleepy. And tired. And exhausted. Also, I'm completely out of energy. So I think bed is a good idea right now. Yes. It's a great plan.

I will talk to you amigos tomorrow. Maybe. I'm counting on the fact that either something blog-worthy will happen, or I'll end up bored and blog for no reason.


Kinda like what I'm doing now.....

Man, I need a new hobby.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Miss Nice Girl is gone, and she's moving to New York.

That's right, people. Nice Myra is GONE.

Of course, that doesn't mean I have totally gone off the deep end and am going to go all Incredible Hulk on everyone and be a total jerk.


I am sick and tired of people walking all over me. I feel like this is how people think of me subconsciously.

"Myra? Oh yeah, I know her. She's pretty much a pushover. Friends use her. Boys use her. Sometimes I am in total doubt of the existence of her spine. Yea. I'm pretty positive it doesn't exist."

Some of you might be wondering where the heck all of this is coming from. Solely because of the fact that I give a pretty darn good impression of being able to take care of myself. No one messes with me without me messing back- at least on the surface. But recently it's just like I let people say or do whatever they want to me, and I do nothing about it. So I just want to say, those days are OVER.

From now on, if you lie to me, you'll PAY for it. If you hurt me OR any of my friends, I WILL have something to say about it. And by far the most important....if I find out you're using me? I will no longer just let you off with a little slap on the wrist. I'm so SICK of people thinking they can get away with this kind of crap.

That being said, I won't mention it again. Because I don't think I'll need to. One time saying it should be enough.

Moving on.

I have recently made a major life decision, and I've only shared it with a few people. However, I think it's about time I let people know. It's something I've thought about for a long time, and I think it's the right thing for me.

As some of you know, something that is a vital part of my life, and something that is very important to me is music. Guitar, piano, violin, trumpet- I love it all. BUT, the thing that is the most important to me is singing. Whenever I'm sad or angry of really happy, I love to sing about it. My shower head has been impressed for years by my renditions of various Broadway show tunes. When I was little, it was my dream to be a Broadway star. Fanny from Funny Girl, Elphaba from Wicked, Christine from Phantom of the Opera....that was me. However, as I got older, certain people told me I was not talented enough to be a performer. After so long of people telling you there's no way a country girl from Alabama is going to be a big star, you start to believe it.

But in the last few months, I've thought about it some more. And you know what?

I literally could not care less what those people say.

What right do they have to tear down my dreams? NONE. And besides, who says I'm not destined for the stage? I've always been the dramatic type anyway. And it's not like it's all I want to do. I DO want to be a teacher. That's why I'm going to college for Literature. So it's not as if I get booed offstage, I'm not going to have anything to fall back on. But I want to try. Because if I didn't, I would wonder my whole life what could have been if I had given it a little effort.

SO. All this has led up to my decision to move to New York after I graduate college. I had always planned on staying in Alabama, but I have now come to the realization that if I spend the rest of my life here, my head will probably explode. I love Alabama. But only for short periods of time. I've spent the last eighteen years of my life here, and to me, almost two decades in the same place is quite long enough, thank you. So as soon as I toss that graduation cap up in the air, it's hasta la vista, Eclectic. Hello, big city.

Just thought I would let you all know.

Oh, and if you don't like it....

I don't care.



Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Old enemies, Salsa, Life Confessions, and Sonic Booms.

Hello my dears. :) Today was a life changing day in the severely confusing story that is the life of Myra Boulware.

You know how you have those people that you despise and you are pretty darn positive that you will never like them again in your whole life,the kind of people that even if by some cruel twist of fate you were stranded on a desert island with, you would rather talk to a coconut than them?

Yeah, I called one of those people up today.

Because I realized, all that pent-up emotion is SO not good for my new college girl mojo I got goin' on. Also, the whole situation between us (which is far too complicated to go into detail on) was pretty stupid. So I was just like, yo, Imma call this girl. (Whose name is Kayla, by the way.) So I did.

Two hours later, we were having dinner with some other amazing friends like nothing had ever happened in the first place. (Among those amazing friends is a chick names Alex, who also has an AMAZING blog. Go check it outttttt- )

So yeah, I was feelin pretty good about life at this point. I had three friends I was laughing and talking with, I had a shrimp quesadilla, I had a new dress on....Yeah, I was gettin' my single-girl swag on. :) After that, we all went to my wonderful friend Rosemary Perdue's house (She ALSO has a blog, and she sells some pretty cool stuff....(

ANYWAY, when we got back, Alex decided we were gonna do some good, old-fashioned facebook creepin'. Don't even PRETEND you haven't done that. That's the POINT of facebook. Mostly, we looked at profiles of illegally attractive guys. Which was lovely. :)

THEN, we decided the chairs in the kitchen where we were sitting were too uncomfortable to sit in any we moved to the couch in the living room, where we found a highly informative book on astrology and "Your Star Sign and What It Means". Can I just say, we Scorpios are apparently some FREAKY people. The word "seductive" was ALL OVER that page. And, apparently, Alex likes to browse antique shops. Go figure.

Anyway, as we were sitting on the couch innocently reading, all of a sudden we hear this-


Kayla and Alex jump about, oh, seven and a half inches off the sofa, I scream like someone has just shot me, and then we all sit there, our eyes as big as dinner plates, and just stare at each other. Then Kayla screams, "ROSEY!!!!! SOMEONE'S TRYING TO BLOW UP THE WORLD!!!!!!" Alex subsides into nervous giggles, and I sit there just waiting for the terrorists to bust through the windows. Rosemary walks in, all nonchalant, and is all, "Oh yeah, did I forget to mention they so SWAT team training on this road sometimes?"

WELL, Rosey, I guess you forgot to mention that ONE LITTLE DETAIL. Thank you for allowing me to ALMOST HAVE A HEART ATTACK AND DIE.

After that, we tried to keep talking normally, but we all kept nervously looking toward the window, just waiting for that next explosion. So after about half an hour of that, (which was also punctuated with annoying remarks and retarded laughter from Alex's little brother....I swear, children like that are why ORPHANAGES were invented.) we all decided to go home- with plans to hang out Friday all day. :)

So yes. I think the lesson I learned today (Among others, such as "burning things is theraputic", and "SWAT team training is scary") is that sometimes, the people you consider to be your greatest enemies, turn out to be the people you become the best of friends with.

Now if you'll all excuse me, I have to go now. I hear a very cozy bed calling my name and I hate to keep it waiting. :)

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

A Very Myra Musical

So, I've been watching an indecent amount of Glee lately. Also, I've been repeatedly watching A Very Potter Musical. And I cannot even begin to express to you how ardently I wish my life was more like a musical. I mean, come ON. How much more exciting would an average day be if everyone busted out in random choreographed dance routines with vocals to match??? Even eating breakfast would be fun. I can just see it.

SCENE. 6:00 AM, Boulware household kitchen. MYRA enters from door adjoining to the dining room. Starts frying an egg. DAD walks in from the LEFT.

DAD- What are you doing up this early?? It's summer!!
MYRA- I'm cooking an egg. I'm HUNGRY. It happens sometimes.
DAD- Well make me one too.

MYRA looks through the refrigerator, and pulls out an empty egg carton.

MYRA- Oops. Looks like we're out. Sorry. (throws away egg carton.)
DAD- (Looks out to crowd. Even though there isn't one. But whatever. This is MY dream sequence. Go with it, people.)

Music rather akin to that of "Forget You" By Cee-Lo Green swells in the background.

DAD- (Jumps on kitchen counter- narrowly avoiding being smacked in the head by our low-hanging ceiling fan...) "I see you frying that egg and I want one toooooo, I'm mad at youuuuu!!!!"

MYRA- "I guess the change in your pocket just wasn't enough, to buy a carton that's neeeeewwwwww!!!"

DAD- "Now if I was richer, I'd be eating eggs with ya, ain't that a shame?"

MYRA-"Although there's pain in your tummy, and I'm sorry bout that honey, but YOU'RE to blameeeeee!!!!"

And then I would do a bunch of extremely complicated spinning maneuvers with the spatula- a tribute to my rifle-spinning-skills from colorguard- and the whole number would end with a cereal explosion. And jazz hands. Because those are clearly very important in any musical number.


My life is boring......

If only my dad would sing to me about eggs during breakfast. It would just start my day off on the right note. Are there even any songs about eggs? If there are, someone should learn one and show up to my house and sing it to me one morning. Especially if it's a cute guy. If a man sang me an egg song, I would fall in love with him. Because cute guys, singing, and eggs are three of my favorite things.

Anyway....I'm off to try to make something exciting out of today. Because I am currently bored to tears, if you hadn't already deduced that yourselves. Which should have been totally obvious, if you didn't....I'm making up songs about breakfast, for crying out loud.

......I need a new hobby.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

To my future soul mate :)

So, I've been thinking lately about my future. Mostly about who I'm going to share it with. SPECIFICALLY, my future husband. Because I'm pushing nineteen now, and y'all.....I don't have a lot of cute left in me. I need to find a man, forreal.

Ok, ok, I know that that was slightly dramatic....but whatever. When you're eighteen you feel like you have to live as much life as possible as SOON as possible. It's like a mid- mid-life crisis. In my head it's always like


Which, of course, is all ridiculous. But it doesn't change the fact that I am ALREADY dreading menopause. And I'm not even nineteen yet. This is a problem.

And, as I do with all my problems, I work them out by writing about them.

SO. I decided to write a letter to my special someone (whose identity is still unknown at this point....) to express my frustration at his absence in my life so far. Also to tell him some vital things. And, who knows? Maybe one day when I actually meet this guy, I'll go back to this post and make him read it and he will laugh and tell me I'm cute. Because he's gonna be that type of guy. :)

SO. Here goes. :)

Dear future husband slash love of my life slash father of my children slash person who puts up with all of my crazy,

So, I know what you're thinking right now.

"Myra, you're a freak. You don't even know me yet. Why are you writing me a letter? You're so adorably weird. (You BETTER tell me I'm adorable, or we're gonna have a problem...)

To which I say, YES I am a freak, and if you don't know that by now you're in for a rude surprise, my dear....and the reason I'm writing you a letter is because I am EXTREMELY frustrated with life right now sir, and you are not helping in the least. Because you are not HERE. But hey, it's all good. You're probably busy gallivanting around with some other girl. Which is totally long as you dump that trick as soon as you meet me. :) hahaha, seriously though....on a deep note, I know I have no idea who you are right now. The only thing I know for sure is that you're walking around out there somewhere. I don't even know if you're looking for ME, like I'm looking for you. Who knows, you might be dating some girl you've been with for years and totally thinking "She's the ONE!!!!" Because we ALL think the person we're with at the moment is THE ONE. But I don't care who you're with now, or who you've been with in the past....what's important is that in the future, you're going to be allllll mine. :)

Just so you know, I pray for you every night, even though I don't know your name. I pray that you have enough laughter to keep your life happy, enough friends to keep you company until I arrive in your life, but most of all I wish you enough sorrow to know what true happiness is. Because after all, what would happiness be without sadness? We wouldn't know the flippin' difference. We'd be all, "Oh, you're taking me to Disneyland for my birthday? What was that, you got me a pony? You're proposing with the Hope Diamond? (By the way, don't do that for real, guys. That thing has seriously bad juju.) Well, that's nice. I think. I wouldn't know, because I've never experienced anything NOT nice. But thanks for the gesture."

And that is seriously uncool.

So, even though some people might think it's strange, I pray that you have sadness.

Also, on a purely selfish note, I kinda hope you have dark hair. I've always been a sucker for that.

Although I know it doesn't really matter what you look like.

All that matters is that I love you, and you love me. Even though we don't know each other yet. Isn't that cool?? I think it is. And listen dude, I know that I have a lot of flaws. More than usual actually. But I am so thankful to know YOU are out there somewhere, and you will accept me for all of those flaws. In fact, they will be what you love best about me. And I know YOU'RE not perfect either. But see, that's the beautiful thing about love. It's not about finding the perfect person. It's about finding the person perfect for YOU, the person you're perfect WITH. And for me, that is YOU. :)

So in conclusion, Mr. Future Soul Mate Who I Do Not Know Yet.....I just want you to know I'm here. And I'm waiting for you. And I know the day you walk into my life, will be a day I remember forever.

Also, I hope you like the following things, because you will be dealing with them for the REST OF YOUR LIFE.

  • South Park. Lots of it.
  • Sushi (YES I enjoy raw fish. Deal with it.)
  • Books. I read a lot. All the time. I do a LOT of reading.
  • MUSIC. You will hear guitar on a daily basis, along with lots of singing. Also piano and violin.
  • There will be a lot of reminiscing about my high school marching band days. BOB WHITE!
  • We will watch the Princess Bride at least once a week, and I fully expect you to be able to quote parts of it to me.
  • Cuddling is mandatory.
  • We WILL have a cat. I don't care what you say.
  • When I have a son, his name shall be Findley, and we will call him Finn. NO, not because of Glee (Even though I do like that show).
And last but not will have to deal with me telling you each and every day how much you mean to me.

So, (insert unknown name here), I hope this letter has been informative for you. I can't wait to meet you, and I am excited for the rest of our lives to start. :)

All of my love (and PATIENCE, because you, sir, are apparently a Prince Charming with a very SLOW white horse),


Saturday, July 16, 2011

You are not alone, and this is not the end of your story.

"Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.

After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.

She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.

As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."

I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.

We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.

I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember."


Hey guys :) Now, I didn't write this story.....but it comes from the core of an organization that I hold near and dear to my heart. To Write Love On Her Arms is a non-profit organization dedicated to finding help for those who are depressed and alone and feel like they have no one. Specifically, people who struggle with depression, self-injury, addiction, and suicide. I felt like I should share this with you guys for a number of reasons.

Let's be honest with ourselves here, NO ONE wants to talk about this kind of thing. Why? Because it freaking sucks, that's why. People who are cutters or addicts don't feel like sharing their stories, and often, people don't want to listen anyway. Because, let's be honest, it's a TOTAL downer. Right? I can see all of you now.

"Myra, what up with the depressing blog post? You're downing my vibe, yo. Chill out with all this junk."

Well, I'm sorry about your vibe, yo, and I apologize, but you are simply going to have to suffer through it a little longer. Because this is something important, and you people have an obligation to spread the word!

Now, I want you to think for a minute. Think of all of the friends you have. I'd bet a lot of money all of you know at least one who is struggling with something like this. We live in a broken world, and for some people it just becomes too much. That is why it's up to me, and YOU, to do something about it.

To some of you reading this who might be one of the people that is having a hard time, and don't know where to turn, you are NOT alone. We ALL have to deal with the human condition- and it has beauty and wonder and a passion for life, but it also has misery and loss and tragedy. People might brush off your pain like it doesn't matter, maybe because you are "too young" to feel real emotion. But TWLOHA knows that pain is real for everyone, all ages alike. This is what they have to say to you.

"You need to know that rescue is possible, freedom is possible, that GOD is still in the business of redemption. We're seeing it happen. We're seeing lives change as people get the help they need. People sitting across from a counselor for the first time. People stepping into treatment. In desperate moments, people calling a suicide hotline. We know that the first step to recovery is the hardest to take. We want to say here that it's worth it, that YOUR LIFE is worth fighting for, that it's possible to change."

Guys, I know this isn't something a lot of people are comfortable talking about, or even READING about. Probably half of the people who follow my blog read the first paragraph and that's all they read. But for those of you who stuck it out this far, I thank you. :) I just want you all to know that, for people who are struggling with this kind of stuff, a kind word of gesture can be a saving grace. So everyone needs to stop with the hating and the vindictiveness and try to love more. You never know what someone is dealing with behind closed doors. Keep that in mind next time you're trashing someone on facebook, or sending a hurtful text, or even just giving that girl in the mall who's dressed funny a mean look.

You have a bigger impact on the people around you than you think.

So, if you've read this and decided "YEAHHHH, I wanna be cool and see what I can do to help these people 'cause I'm AWESOME!!!!!" Go to There are things YOU can do to make the world a better place for someone else out there.

Remember my dears, you never know who you have an impact on. What you say or do can make or break someone. So let's try a little more love, y'all. :)


Friday, July 15, 2011

This is why you don't go to the bathroom at 4 AM...

So, I think I officially have set a new record for laziness. I woke up at 6:30 today.



I might as well have just slept on through tonight too.

Anywho, not much has been going on....I've been mostly chillin at home, or hanging out with friends. I got to see my good friend Anna yesterday, which was great. :) She was actually my drum major my first year of marching band. She is a fabulous person. :) We had a nice long talk about our lives and caught up on all the stuff we had missed (which was a lot).

Also, I spent a highly entertaining night with one of my best friends, Brittany. :) The reason it was entertaining was that I had pulled an all-nighter the night before and she REFUSED to let me sleep until at least 8:30 that night, so my sleeping pattern would return to some semblance of normal. So the afternoon consisted of yelling at me when I dozed off, attempts at putting ice down my shirt, and forcing me to go swimming. I was displeased.
When bedtime finally rolled around, I was OUT. Like seriously. As soon as I laid down, I was gone.


Disaster struck in the form of a four AM bathroom trip, when I walked out to the hallway to find a male member of her family in the kitchen wearing....well....lets just leave it at the fact that he was scantily clad and I had to run into the bathroom at lightning speed to keep from bursting into laughter and revealing my presence. So when I returned to the bed, I started having giggling fits and couldn't go back to sleep. Brittany (who is a very light sleeper) rolled over and was all, "WHAT THE CRAP ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT AT FOUR AM?!??" And I couldn't stop laughing to tell her. Then in the middle of the laughter, I had a random moment of nausea....and had to go to the bathroom AGAIN so I wouldn't end up puking in the bed. When I got BACK, Brittany was getting UP because SHE had to barf too. So when SHE got back to bed, we were like....Great. It's four AM, we're both sick, Myra can't stop laughing....what do we do now???

Well, the answer was obvious.

Go to the kitchen for Sprite and sugar cookies.

It didn't make us feel much better, but those cookies were pretty good....

After that, we spent the remainder of the nighttime hours discussing whether there was someone under the bed (we ended up scaring ourselves to the point where neither of us wanted to get out of bed), talking about our future husbands (whose identities are as of now still unknown, BUT there are one or two interesting prospects), and it ended with me crying about all the things in my life that make me mad. But in the end I thought about that incident with the scantily clad man in her kitchen, and I started laughing again.....and by then it was time to get up, I hadn't gotten much sleep, and my sleeping schedule was STILL off kilter.

Which is how I ended up awake at almost four o'clock watching Glee re-runs.

Oh, life.....I wish you were more like Glee. I wish all my problems were solved with hour- long, simple homilies, and that music would play in the background of epic events so I could sing, if I felt so compelled. Also that I had a teacher that looked like Mr. Schuester. Because he is ten different kinds of attractive.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

So, explain this to me.....

I am not a pleased Myra right now.

I mean, I WAS.

Up until like ten minutes ago.

I have a question for you. How old do you have to be before your parents can stop bossing you around?

I'm dead serious here. Total respect for all you parents out here, but don't you think that by the time your children are eighteen and entering college, you should start letting them , oh, I don't know, THINK FOR THEMSELVES?!!?? I understand the whole "They're always gonna be a baby to me" mindset, but if I'm legally allowed to drive and vote and junk, I think I should be able to decide where I go and what I do with my time. I can't be 50 years old and asking my mom if I can go somewhere.

"Hey, can I go spend the night with...."


".......Mom, I'm forty-seven....."

That's probably what my future looks like.

It's not like I'm an awful kid. I generally stick with the rules. Sure, I've broken them here and there, but it's not like I'm out hanging around with drug dealers. The worst thing my friends and I have done was almost get kicked out of WalMart because we got a little too rowdy during a scavenger hunt.

And that was a one time thing. And we TOTALLY apologized to that one greeter.

I'm just sick and tired of asking to do stuff that's totally harmless and normal, and getting a big fat, "NO WAY." Um, if I'm old enough to go to college and live on my own, I'm old enough to make my OWN decisions. When have I ever done something that was harmful or dangerous or reckless?? I mean come ON. I'm getting mixed signals here. One day it's all,


And then its like,


Um, hello? You're totally giving me whiplash here, 'rents. The bipolarness is way uncool.

I know this all sounds like whining.....but....I'm just upset. :(

I just wanna be thirty, flirty, and thriving. And making my own decisions. Like Jennifer Garner in that one movie. Except thirty is a little too old. I would make it twenty, flirty and thriving.

Except now it doesn't rhyme....


I'm just gonna go eat ice cream and watch Glee now.

Because that's the MATURE thing to do.

Myra, stop it!!!

So, the title of this post might be confusing to you guys....not unlike a lot of my OTHER post titles...haha. But seriously, I had like an epiphany today, and I felt like I needed to share it with SOMEONE.....and what better place than my blog??

The song that is in the video below pretty much says it all, so if you would, just give it a listen before you read the rest of the post.

So. Now that the whole ambiance is set here, I'm going to explain to you what all this nonsense is about.

I, as some of you may know and some of you may not, am a very closed-off person. I don't like to share my feelings with people. Sometimes, I like to pretend that I'm this hard person who doesn't trust anyone and never allows herself to get hurt. But underneath that, I probably trust easier than anyone else in the world. And because of that, I do often get hurt. I can't tell you how many times I've sat in my bed crying at night because of someone hurting me. I am very vulnerable, even though I like to act like I'm not.

Call me a dreamer, but I like to believe that essentially people are good, and that in everyone there is some measure of childlike innocence. I don't like to recognize that there is evil in the world. Oh, I know it's there, all right.....I just don't like to acknowledge its existence. Example. I dated this guy who cheated on me, and so I dumped him. But I wanted to believe he had made a human mistake, so I took him back. And he cheated on me again. Now, I'm not so much of an idiot as to have taken him back a second time....but most people would have run away in the opposite direction after the FIRST time. However, being the somewhat naive person I am, I couldn't comprehend in my mind doing something like that. Let alone doing it twice.

Now, I'm not blaming this young man. in fact, he and I are in an amiable relationship in which I do not dislike him one bit. He is NOT a bad person, he just made some bad decisions. And who hasn't? I'm the last one to point the finger of blame in someone else's face. In fact, I think essentially this guy is pretty nice. As my mom always tells me, "There are mad kids and sad kids, but there's no such thing as bad kids." And I believe that whole-heartedly.

I'm going off on a tangent. Let me get back on track.

What I'm trying to say is, because of my naivety and vulnerability (although I can pretend all I want I'm a tough chick who doesn't depend on anyone else OR trust them, it's a total LIE) I've been hurt a lot. Some of it I handled well, some of it I didn't. For a long time, I did things to release the hurt and frusteration that I'm not proud of. (Again, I didn't go out and get drunk, do drugs, or have sex with a bunch of people...I just did stuff that wasn't good for me.) And I pretty much have made a habit of living in the past. This is pretty much what goes through my head on a daily basis.

"Well, maybe if I hadn't done this......Or what if I had said this instead.....I should have just......If I hadn't been so......Maybe things wouldn't be this way if I......Did I do something wrong???......Maybe I said something......I'm not good enough......If I was this way......What did I do to deserve this?"

And let me tell you, I have gotten REAL tired of it. All day long, over and over, wondering if I could have done things different. When you know what? None of it is really important anymore.

Something I've realized, is that you can't live in the past. Because if you do, you will miss all the beautiful and wonderful things happening NOW. And I feel like (as stated in the title) God id telling me to STOP worrying about things I can't change and make my present something worth remembering. Dwelling on things that have already happened won't change how they happened, or how you felt about it. Reliving the events that hurt you over and over won't take away the pain. If anything, it makes it worse. What if you like, broke your arm? And you sat around all pathetic in your cast thinking about all the things you could have done to NOT break your arm. Is it gonna make your arm any less broken? No! Is it going to take away the pain you felt when it happened? NO. It's the same with things that hurt your heart. Thinking about what you could have done isn't going to make your heart any less hurt, or take away the memory of what hurt it. What you CAN do, is learn what you can, apply it to your FUTURE, and never think about it again.

And for that matter, when someone breaks your heart, it's not YOUR fault. I know it feels like it is, and you go over and over every little detail in your head wondering what you did wrong. Oftentimes, you did NOTHING wrong. I promise. And a lot of the time, THEY did nothing wrong either. Sometimes.....things just don't work out. And you can't control someone else's feelings over you any more than you can control the ocean tide or the lightning during a thunderstorm. You can't change the past. It is inevitably going to remain the same no matter what you do. You can't change the way people act. The one thing you can do, though?

Stop beating yourself up, and move on. I know, because I have beat myself up so much over things that are over and done with, I'm surprised someone hasn't already called child protective services on me for abuse. But thing I've learned about life, if I've learned anything at all, is that it goes on. And you can either go with it, or you can stay in the past all alone. Which will you choose?

Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to move on from this blog post (because it's in the past, and I'm applying this whole "moving on" theme here" to go chat with my good friend Jordan. Because I feel a very long and hilarious conversation in my FUTURE.

See how nicely that works out? Moving on is fun. Try it.


Saturday, July 9, 2011


Yes, THAT is how I feel right now. Because it appears that EVERYONE ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET is determined to tick me off, guilt me, and otherwise RUIN MY LIFE.

I seriously do not understand people. Really. I have the worst people radar in the world. The minute I think I can trust someone and open up to them, they totally crush me and I'm like, "Gee, thanks for that. Yeah, I like a good knife in the back once in a while. Really releases that tension in my spine."

I just don't comprehend some people. I really don't. And I'm not the stupid cliche "I HATE EVERYTHING AND I DON'T TRUST ANYONE AND THE WHOLE WORLD IS A DARK DEPRESSING PIT OF DESPAIRRRRR" kind of teen. The only things I hate are hypocrites, brussell sprouts, liars, and canteloupe, I trust a few people (but only a few) and I think the world is a beautiful place. I just think that sometimes, people are TOTALLY OUT TO DRIVE ME COMPLETELY INSANE.

.......Or that's what it feels like, anyway. It's just not fair.

And yeah yeah, I know the old cliche. "Well, Myra, the WORLD isn't fair."

To which I say, I am TOTALLY aware.

I just wish it was unfair in MY favor sometimes....

Friday, July 8, 2011

Frankly, my dear...You are an unworthy piece of crap.

Bet THAT title got your attention, yes? Well, good, because it was supposed to. I've had a couple things weighing on my mind for the last two or three weeks, and I think the only way I'll be able to get my mind to SHUTUP is by writing it all out.

Let's be honest here. We're all human. And we make mistakes, LOTS of them. And I feel like lately, all of my mistakes are of the CATASTROPHIC variety. You know, the kind where you just want to lie down where no one else can see you and curl up and cry. A lot. Lots of crying. And something I've found lately, is, sometimes the things you do can hurt so badly that even all the crying in the world can't fix it or make you feel better.

Something I haven't really touched on in any of my posts (ANOTHER one of those mistakes I was talking about) is my faith. I am a daughter of God, flawed though I may be. However, in the last few months, I have NOT been the Christlike example that God calls us all to be. I have felt dirty, and unworthy to be called a Christian. Now, if I told the average person all the things I have done to make me feel this way, they would probably say something along the lines of "Oh, Myra. Don't be silly. You haven't done anything too bad. It's not like you killed anyone." Which may be true, but let me share something my youth minister said in a lesson one time that I think should put that statement into a different perspective for you.

If I went outside right now and stepped on an ant and killed it, no one would care. It would not upset or affect anyone- except maybe some kind of freak ant enthusiast. I'm sure there's one out there somewhere.

Now, lets say I moved up from ants and went and killed, say, a cat. Some people would be upset, and PETA would probably throw a bunch of red paint on me. But it's not like I would go to jail for the rest of my life.

Now. What if I killed an innocent child? A defenseless baby, even? Ohhhhhh, man. I would get arrested, I would go to jail, I would lose everything and everyone I care about, and might even get the death penalty and die for it. Because that's an awful, awful thing to do. (cough cough CASEY ANTHONY).

But look back. It's the same thing, every time. Every time,I was killing something. It was the same act. The only variable that changes is who the act is committed against. It's not the action itself that people pay attention to, it's who it's done to.

Now think here....when you sin, who are you committing the sin against? Sometimes it might be against something as trivial as an ant, sometimes you might even end up hurting another human being. But in reality, EVERY SIN YOU EVER COMMIT IS AGAINST GOD.

God, who is more important than an ant. More important than a cat. More important than a baby.

When you lie, you are lying to GOD.

When you say hurtful things, you're hurting GOD.

When you commit adultery, you are cheating on GOD.

No matter what sin you commit, all of them are equally damning. Because all of them are committed against God. So why is it that some sins are trivialized, and made out as "not as bad" as others? Everyone flips out when a murder is committed, but how many people care when someone lies? Or when they disrespect their parents? Or when they begin to idolize other things besides God?

Think. It's not the sin. It's the importance, if you will, of the person it is committed against. And every time, it's GOD you're sinning against. Think about that next time you tell a little white lie and try to rationalize that there are "worse things" you could be doing. Think about it next time you put someone down. The next time you think, "It's okay for me to sleep with my boyfriend/girlfriend because we love each other".

None of it is okay. All of it is equally wrong. Do NOT make the so called "smaller" sins okay for you. And do not tolerate them in others. TELL a fellow brother or sister in Christ when they're wrong!!! Do not tell them lying is okay. Or cheating. Or disrespecting their parents. Or going out with friends instead of church, thereby putting them before God.

Now back to the title of this post, to which you might say, "Hey, Myra. That's like, totally harsh." Well, maybe. But it's true. I'm an unworthy piece of crap and so are you and everyone else. And if you ever meet anyone who's all, "Yeah dude, I'm TOTALLY worthy for the grace of God. I deserve it, yo!!!" Run away fast because he is INSANE. None of us are worthy of God's love and mercy.


But hey, good news!!!! One of the great things about God's grace is that he gives it to us even though we ARE undeserving. And He can wash away all those feelings of not being good enough, of being dirty, unworthy, and like you don't matter. So cheer up, Charlie, there's hope. :)

I hope you all have taken something positive away from all this....I've never written a post like this before, so I hope you all liked it. Comment and let me know your thoughts on all this. And from now on I'll keep you guys more updated on my walk with Christ. Just know, if you are struggling or have problems, you are not alone. :))


Thursday, July 7, 2011

A Tribute To Otto!!!! You are more important than a grandma!

So, yesterday was a sad day for the Boulware household. We lost a member of our family. :( No, no, my parents and brother are fine...but our little cat Otto passed away on the operating table yesterday morning while he was supposed to be getting fixed. Which really threw everyone in the house into this dark depressing mood. Seriously. It was bad.

And at church last night when some kid (who I do not know and have never seen before in my life) asked me why I was sad, and I told him my cat had died, he looked at me like I was some freak and was all, "So? It's just a cat." And I was like, "WHAT?!?!?" And he replied, "Well, it's not like he was a person. It's sadder when a person dies. My grandma died last month." And so I looked right back at him and said, "SO???? It's just a grandma." And when he continued to look at me like I was from Mars, I went on, "Did GRANDMA ever sit in your lap and purr when you were feeling blue? Did good ol' GRANNY ever jump on your shoulder and lick your ears while you were sitting at the computer? Did she hiss at your boyfriend when you brought him home to meet the family because she could tell he was bad news?? I don't THINK so!!!!"

Now, you might be saying to yourself, "Myra.....don't you think that was a little unnecessary?"

To which I say....


Cats are just as important as grandmas.

Also, THIS particular cat happened to be a polydactyl, which is TOTALLY cool. Does YOUR grandma have eight toes on each paw???

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Monday, July 4, 2011

This is the part where everything changes.

Alright. So....

Since the last time I wrote on this blog, a lot has changed. A LOT.
Since I don't really feel that the magnitude of how much has changed is getting through to you people, I shall repeat it again.


Of course, not all of it is stuff I can just put on a public blog for all of creation to see. In fact, the majority of it is not. I wish I could tell you every little detail of everything I've been through the last six months or so, but I have never been one for airing the dirty laundry. Or the clean laundry, as a matter of fact. I've always felt that laundry is something extremely personal that should be kept to oneself.

However, with all that being said, there are a few things I CAN tell you.

For one, I am no longer Troy University bound. GASP! I know, I know, I was all gung-ho for it not six months ago, right? But upon further reflection, prayer, and consideration, I opted instead to go to Huntingdon, for a plethora of differing reasons. I recently went to orientation there, and I loved it so much, I didn't want to leave. The people and the atmosphere of the place is outstanding. But I digress....

You may have noticed that the name of my blog has changed. It is no longer "The Secret Life of the American Band Geek". Well, that's because I see myself as so much more than that now. For a while there, band kind of ruled my life. NOT that I'm complaining. Marching band is an incredible experience that I would recommend to anyone to participate in. But I don't want to simply be known as the girl that was in band. I want to be known as so much more than that.

You also might be confused at the new title, and the significance behind it. Well, for any of you that have read the novel "Gone With the Wind", it won't be that hard to figure out, and you can skip the paragraph below. For the rest of you, here is a quick plot summary. (Forgive me for the lack of details, but it IS a rather long and complicated book and I can't, obviously, include everything.)

Scarlett O'Hara is the daughter of a wealthy plantation owner in Georgia, right before the outbreak of the Civil War. She is a spoiled brat by all accounts, and used to getting everything-and everyone- she desires. She is ALSO desperately in love with the son of a neighboring planter, Ashley Wilkes. However, she is denied of something she wants for the first time in her life when he marries another girl- his own cousin, Melanie. ( I know, marrying your cousin is weird. But just bear with me here.) Anyway, throughout the duration of the war, Scarlett lives in silent- yet violent- desire for Ashley, and hatred of Melanie. She marries other men, but never has true feelings for them. The last man she marries in the book is named Rhett Butler, a scoundrel of a blockade runner. Unbeknownst to Scarlett, Rhett is very much in love with her, for all her penny-pinching and heartbreaking ways, and even though he knows of her feelings for Ashley. In the end, Melanie dies in childbirth, and Scarlett (in a very untimely manner, I might add) realizes she was wrong about EVERYTHING in her life. She was wrong to hate Melanie, who never wanted anything more than to be her friend. She was wrong to love Ashley, because they would have SUCKED as a couple, and they would never have understood each other. In the midst of this epiphany, she ALSO comes to the realization that she is in love with Rhett (her own husband. How ironic.). She rushes home to tell him of her sudden change of heart, but it does no good. Rhett's feelings for her have worn out, and he is tired of fighting against her so-called love for Ashley. Scarlett begs for him to stay and insists of her love for him. As Rhett is walking out the door, she asks him what she's supposed to do without him. He turns to her and says, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."

SO. Now that we have all the background story out of the way, the relevance of the new title is this.

I feel that, like the unfortunate Scarlett, I have also been miserably, totally, and disturbingly WRONG about EVERYTHING in my life. I have been wrong to push away people that cared about me, and I have been MORE wrong to let people in my life that were never supposed to be there in the first place. I, like Scarlett, feel like I chase after things that, even if I obtained them, would not make me happy. I have made some very, very bad decisions. Now don't freak out, I haven't been running around doing drugs and getting drunk and driving recklessly. That's not how I roll. I HAVE been reckless in other ways, though. I've been reckless with other people's hearts, and worse, I have entrusted MY heart to people that were reckless with it. And, at the end of the day, when I just want the world to say "Oh, Myra, it's alright. Everything is going to be okay.", instead it is walking out the door and saying, "Frankly my dear...I don't give a damn."

I know, I know... I am WAY too young to sound this cynical. But who is to say that a person's experience of life is measured solely in years? I feel that, at only eighteen, I have lived more life than some people who are seventy-five. I have loved more violently, been more brutally broken, cried more tears, laughed harder, and seen more of the world than half of the people in this small country town I live in EVER will. The quality of someone's life should not be measured in years, because life is so much more than just a number. And that's about all I have to say about that.

Whew! Guess I had a lot more to say than I originally planned....haha. Thank you for bearing with me this long. Anyway....I'm sure you'll be hearing from me more frequently from here on out. After all, who else am I going to complain about my life to? :)

God bless, I'll see ya soon.