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.

A LOT HAS CHANGED.

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.