Magic Eraser

How easy is it to erase really big mistakes?

Through recent events, I've found that it's REALLY easy. I've always told myself that I need to make the best possible choices for me, but also for those around me. Yet, I always manage to make really big mistakes. Some people make really big and public mistakes. Some people make mistakes so big it takes entire bank accounts to fix. And others are very personal.

I want to say that what I do is right. I like to be known as the good role model and everything, but it's mistakes like these that make me rethink who I am. Or at least when I can speak for myself.

So am I proud of what I did? No. Did I have fun? Kinda. And the worst part is, I've done it before. I'm definitely not proud. It is also very defeating to know how easy it is to fix mistakes like that. It's so easy, in fact, that you can plan ahead for more mistakes such as these. Just like White Out, you can buy the fix before the mistake. Not just in the prevention of possible mistakes, but you can plan to make the mistake and fix it. Strange.... and unnerving.

Time to change. No more of this nonesense. I will not let this happen again. It's time to grow up.

Irrational Fears

I've always thought of myself as one of those people that judges risk wisely and never does anything that will cause any sort of unsuspected fears or danger. I respect the fact that my school is really safe. I awknowledge the fact that I've traveled solo across the world to a place that most would deem 'scary' or 'unsafe'. I pretty much love some risk, but never do anything genuinely stupid.

Yesterday, there was something that instilled a little fear in me. The four words I kind of never wanted to hear: subject with a gun. See, if I lived in a bigger place, this wouldn't be so rare. Thankfully, I live in a fairly mild city where it is a big deal to have a gun. And with all the media about school shootings, we've been preparing. But I never thought I'd experience the horror of one. I must say, there was no one injured in this incident. Again. There was NO ONE injured. That alone helps me to believe that what I do, what WE do, is nothing short of amazing.

So where does the fear come in? Now, after realizing that things like this happen everywhere, I've been thinking about what I would do. What would I do if I got shot? Would I be left there and have to find help myself? How long would it take for people to find me? Or notice I was missing? In my randomness, would everyone just think that I'd gone off on some spontaneous trip? And the list goes on... and on... and on.

Then the other part hit me. There was a man with a gun on campus. For real. Not halfway across the country. Not with some delusional school kid weilding mass weaponry. No. This was real. And it is frightening. We prepare for the 'could have', 'might have', 'would have' situations, but it's incredibly different when it's in your backyard (or campus, in this case).

A quick moment of respect for those that put their lives on the line every day. For the ones that collaborate to get the best possible outcome. For the extraordinary ones that do the things the ordinary won't. Thank you to the ones that keep me and the rest of the nation safe.

The Beginning

After a little thought, I decided to switch blogging sites. I kinda like the setup of this one better.

I think the interest I have in blogging is that I have lots of thoughts that I want to write down and incorporate later in life. That and I like to write about things so that people can get an inkling as to what I'm thinking and a perspective from the way that I see things.

Today?

In one word. Rough. Lately I've just felt like I'm missing something. Like I'm running a marathon that has no end and no purpose. For the last week, it has been non-stop sleep, study, school, work, sleep, study, school, work. Not much for down time, but for as much as I like to keep busy, it has just seemed like too much. I want to know that I'm capable of handling it, but sometimes, especially this last week has been really hard to. Being up for over 20 hours, then sleeping for 3 and goin for another 20+ hour day is hard. I've heard that working nights will take a toll and make people look so unhealthy looking. I'm starting to wonder if that's where I'm at and starting to look ragged. I hope not.

It's been a rough couple days at work and I'm glad that a break is in sight. I also know that not many people (by their own admittance) wouldn't be able to function well at my job. I work as a police dispatcher. I'm frequently asked what that entails, but it's really hard to summarize. I do a little bit of everything. I read a book once on 911 operators. There was a quote in there that really stuck with me. It said something along the lines of, "I may have heard your name, but you never heard mine. I may recognize the address of the house you walk into, but you don't know my face. I may have heard you pleading for help, but you don't hear my voice. I don't necessarily want to know people's secrets, I just do." This kind of hit me in an inspirational way. I'm okay with never meeting the people on the other end of the phone, but do like to know that I helped them when they needed it.

Moving to my next adventure. In my ever growing quest to do what I can to help people, I joined the Peace Corps. I don't know yet where exactly I'll be going, but I've been told it's Sub-Saharan Africa in November. I'm so excited! I'm really hoping to find out soon so I can giggle at the fact that I'm moving out of the country to bound head and heart into a new thrilling journey.

Until then, I'm going to live as best I can. To the most extreme happiness. To the most loving warmth. To the most. I want to live to the point of tears. (It's okay, I'm not afraid of crying.)