Failure

Maybe everyone goes through times where they feel like they have failed miserably. Or maybe it's just me. Either way, as much as I hate to admit it, I have failed.

A few weeks ago, I was on top of the world. Everything seemed to be going just right and the pieces of my life appeared to be finally falling together to create a neat little picture of the life I always wanted. But last week, all that came crashing down and exploded in my face. I felt extremely helpless as I watched my life fall apart and there was nothing I could do. I feel like life gave me just a small glimpse of the things I wanted and have worked hard to achieve and then rudely takes it all away. I'm sure Fate is laughing at me from afar.

I feel like a failure and a disappointment. I was so sure that I was going to get a really cool internship this summer and get lots of really neat experience while meeting awesome people. And then I would come back to school and not have to worry about money and just enjoy my senior year. By all indications, I was so sure things were going to work out just that way I wanted. But then day after day I got my answers. No. No. Nope. No. I was denied everything I had hoped for and counted on. Now I am back at the beginning and have to figure things out all over again. It's almost overwhelming to think about. I had counted on that scholarship, I had prayed for that internship, I had hoped for that job. And those were just some of the big things. Even the small things were going wrong.

I was so devastated that it effected me physically. I couldn't sleep and I just felt horrible all the time. I didn't want to do anything and all my motivation for school was suddenly gone. I honestly felt like crying all the time.

I think it's a human shortcoming to compare ourselves to others. I know I do it. And while everyone around me is achieving their dreams and doing great things with their lives, I feel like I'm stuck. Stuck and not moving forward. In fact, sometimes I feel like I'm actually moving backwards. It seems like all the forces are fighting against me and everything I do takes a substantial amount of effort while everyone else achieves things effortlessly.

For three short weeks, I felt like I was on Cloud 9. Looking back, I feels like it was all a dream and that I blindly, and even naively, believed that something that awesome would actually happen to me. I should have known better and then maybe, just maybe, I would have saved myself from this disappointment.

xoxo
-Sam

Bangs

Oops! Just realized the title read "Bongs". Let's change that. No bueno.

Now on to a post all about my bangs!

 

I think a need a  hair intervention! My bangs are at that awkward stage where they are too long to be worn as bangs but to short to blend in with the rest of my hair. See Exibit A:

But they are almost to the point where I can tuck them behind my ear. Exhibit B:

So this is where you all come in. Do I leave my bangs and just let them grow out? Or should I cut them? And how should I cut them?

I could leave them as the classic 'side-swept' bangs or go back to the straight bangs look. Exhibit C:

I am very indecisive about this situation and complain about my bangs nearly everyday to my roommate. And it's getting ridiculous. I just need to make up my mind and do something. I have thought about letting them grow out, but I haven't not had bangs for a really long time. So long that I can't even remember. 

So if you have any ideas for me, please leave them below! Thank you all.

xoxo

Sam

Confessions

I like to drink juice straight from the bottle.

I'm in love with glitter and sparkly things.

I have a love-hate relationship with socks. They keep my feet warm but they are so uncomfortable and annoying to wear.

I will still stay up late to read a book. Even if I've already read it a hundred times.

If I don't know you, I am extremely shy. If I do know you, I am obnoxiously loud.

I de-stress by playing the piano.

I tend to be a perfectionist.

If I ever had to run for my life, I would probably die.

I am a very picky eater.

Heights and doctors terrify me.

I love TV crime shows.

Sometimes I become emotionally attached to fictional book characters.

Daydreaming is a hobby of mine.

Daydreaming about my future is even better.

I don't really read magazines. I just like to look at the pictures.

I love bubble wrap.

Sometimes, I do sing in the shower.

I am not a morning person.

I sometimes think that I was born in the wrong time period and that I actually belong in an era with big, fancy dresses.

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I am constantly afraid that I am not good enough.

The time the doctor thought I was mentally handicapped

It's story time peeps!

I was on the verge of adulthood at 17 years and 11 months. And after just graduating high school a few weeks before, I was excited to leave for New York City the next morning. It was going to be great! Just a full week hanging out with my mom in the city.

A few days before, I was cleaning my room and put a glass bottle on my floor (not sure why there was a bottle in my room, but there was. I'm sure there was a good reason at the time) and I guess I never put it back on the shelf. Well the night before we were supposed to leave, I was in my room packing and I was looking for my temple recommend. I couldn't find it anywhere! And that's when I stepped on the glass bottle! (I bet you saw that one coming.) It hurt and started bleeding really bad. So I rushed into my bathroom and tried to get it to stop bleeding. I called upstairs for my mom and asked her to come downstairs. Being the nurse she is, she wanted to see my foot. So she looked and decided I would need stitches. That piece of news just sent me over the edge. I started freaking out! Needles and I do not have a very good relationship and I am absolutely terrified of them!

Five minutes later, my foot was wrapped in a towel and I was in the car with my parents headed to the emergency room. I don't remember much about the ride over or what happened in the ER. But I do remember not wanting anyone to look at my foot. I was taken into a room to wait for the doctor. He finally came in and I kind of feel bad for him. I one hundred per cent acknowledge the fact that I am a difficult patient and I'm sure I didn't make his job any easier. When he asked if he could take the towel off my foot so he could look at the cut, I cried even harder. I was so scared! I kept saying "No. No. No. Take me home. No. No. Take me home. No. No. No. Take me home. No." I'm sure I sounded like a broken record and that was all I said the whole time at the ER. The doctor confirmed I would need stitches and asked to talk to my mom out in in the hall and I later learned that the following conversation took place.

Doc: So is there anything we should be aware of before we start?

Mom: No, I don't think so.

Doc: Are you sure?

Mom: Yes. Let's just get through this. I know she is not going to like this.

Doc: I just need to ask, does she have any learning disabilities?

Mom: *caught off guard* Umm... No. Why?

Doc: Well, I just wanted to check because we approach those patients differently.

Mom: She is definitely not mentally challenged. She is a straight-A student. She is just really scared.

They came back in and the doctor put 10 stitches in my foot!

When we got home, all I could think about was how my perfect vacation was ruined! How was I supposed to walk all over NYC now? I had stitches in my foot! I finally calmed down enough to sleep and we still left the next morning.

My nurse-mom was worried about my foot getting infected from walking through the dirty streets of New York. (I also learned later that the doctor was worried about infection as well so my mom was prepared with a prescription for something we could get filled in New York if we needed it.) I spent the week with my foot wrapped like this:

*Side note: See those cute sandals at the top of the picture? Those were the sandals I bought right before this trip, but because of the wrap on my foot, they didn't fit.

We tried to make the best of the situation and found benches specifically for me.

Nearly two years later, I am left with an ugly scar.

The Season of Sun

This summer I am planning on living with my parents and hopefully getting some kind of internship or job in Salt Lake. I decided to live at home for two reasons. 1. To save money. College is expensive and it's even more expensive when your scholarship runs out. 2. Layton is a lot closer to Salt Lake than Logan. And Salt Lake is where all of the opportunities are at, it seems. So I have been trying to figure out how I will be able to adjust to family life after two years on my own. Cue the sibling squabbles, being told that it's late and to go to bed by my parents and loud brothers.

But! That was the plan before I learned about a simply incredible opportunity in an amazing city. Details are still being figured out so I'll save all of that for another post. But here's a hint.

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Me freaking out!