One More Time
Monday, December 31, 2007
"The habit of looking on the best side of every event is worth more than a thousand pounds a year. "- Samuel Johnson
What does everyone do for the end of the year? Well, I'm going to write a letter to myself.
Dear Gina,
It's the last day of the year. You were in your hometown in Mississippi. You had just finished your fourth semester at school--the classes you had were Dr. M's Faulkner/Morrison class, Dr. M's Senior Seminar, Dr. F's Spanish History class, and Ms. S's Creative Writing class. You did that play, "Spring Awakening" where you played Frau Gabor, and you froze that Thursday night, but was flawless the other performances. Funny how you could still quote the lines now that you couldn't get in your head before, huh!
You got an A, an A-, a B, and two B-'s. All were deserved--you probably should have gotten worse on the B-'s--but you made it through. You are coming to the last semester at this swanky college, and you still have your brain. You are trying to decide when you are going to take your GRE, what you want to get your Master's in (you have been mulling between English and Library Science) and you decided to become more active in voluteering when you can. You (you silly girl) decided to take a full load instead of one class and live off campus somewhere. There is so much you want to do this last semester. You are terrified about comprehensive exams--remember, you brought two boxes of books home you wanted to go through over break? How did that work out for you?--and what is next after you graduate.
You are single and really don't want to mingle. You've still got some self-esteem issues you've got to face. You still grieve for your mama, just not as badly or as often. That's really not a bad thing. One thing you have resolved to do is to push your limits, not let the lazy nemesis that you have inside do you in and make you not do the things you strive to do. You weigh 190, and you hate taking pictures, because they are not what you see in the mirror, or how you feel. But then you are feeling a little older, a little slower to get out of bed, a little stiffer in your walk, but deep down inside, you are a vibrant and happy person.
So I wrote this letter to you in hopes that you will see what you have accomplished and what you did with yourself by this day in 2008. Hopefully you will find the companion that you truly deserve in the friend that you have, and you will be able to say that the one person that has been in your life for so long will either be much closer or gone. Goodness knows this limbo thing is just stupid. I wish you the dreams that will make you happy. No more living on the edge of life. Stop letting fear inhabit the space of courage in your soul. Get smarter if not thinner.
This journey has not ended, my darling Gina. It continues every day. It is your choice to pick a lane and drive or continue to be in the rest area. The one with the bad, cheap vending machine with overpriced pops and bathrooms where you have to roll the toilet tissue off the roll because it will only allow you to pull three squares at a time. Yeah, that rest area. Get on the highway and drive!!!!
Love and yours forever and ever,
Gina
P.S. You are my number one fan and I love you. Dream big, write bigger, and find joy!
What does everyone do for the end of the year? Well, I'm going to write a letter to myself.
Dear Gina,
It's the last day of the year. You were in your hometown in Mississippi. You had just finished your fourth semester at school--the classes you had were Dr. M's Faulkner/Morrison class, Dr. M's Senior Seminar, Dr. F's Spanish History class, and Ms. S's Creative Writing class. You did that play, "Spring Awakening" where you played Frau Gabor, and you froze that Thursday night, but was flawless the other performances. Funny how you could still quote the lines now that you couldn't get in your head before, huh!
You got an A, an A-, a B, and two B-'s. All were deserved--you probably should have gotten worse on the B-'s--but you made it through. You are coming to the last semester at this swanky college, and you still have your brain. You are trying to decide when you are going to take your GRE, what you want to get your Master's in (you have been mulling between English and Library Science) and you decided to become more active in voluteering when you can. You (you silly girl) decided to take a full load instead of one class and live off campus somewhere. There is so much you want to do this last semester. You are terrified about comprehensive exams--remember, you brought two boxes of books home you wanted to go through over break? How did that work out for you?--and what is next after you graduate.
You are single and really don't want to mingle. You've still got some self-esteem issues you've got to face. You still grieve for your mama, just not as badly or as often. That's really not a bad thing. One thing you have resolved to do is to push your limits, not let the lazy nemesis that you have inside do you in and make you not do the things you strive to do. You weigh 190, and you hate taking pictures, because they are not what you see in the mirror, or how you feel. But then you are feeling a little older, a little slower to get out of bed, a little stiffer in your walk, but deep down inside, you are a vibrant and happy person.
So I wrote this letter to you in hopes that you will see what you have accomplished and what you did with yourself by this day in 2008. Hopefully you will find the companion that you truly deserve in the friend that you have, and you will be able to say that the one person that has been in your life for so long will either be much closer or gone. Goodness knows this limbo thing is just stupid. I wish you the dreams that will make you happy. No more living on the edge of life. Stop letting fear inhabit the space of courage in your soul. Get smarter if not thinner.
This journey has not ended, my darling Gina. It continues every day. It is your choice to pick a lane and drive or continue to be in the rest area. The one with the bad, cheap vending machine with overpriced pops and bathrooms where you have to roll the toilet tissue off the roll because it will only allow you to pull three squares at a time. Yeah, that rest area. Get on the highway and drive!!!!
Love and yours forever and ever,
Gina
P.S. You are my number one fan and I love you. Dream big, write bigger, and find joy!
Labels: It Really Happened, New Year's Eve letter, Thoughts
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