The best I can give you is the worst part of me....

I can take care of myself. I can. I'm fiercely independent, and have no problem being alone. But recently, as I see more and more friends getting engaged, getting married, getting pregnant...growing up...it reminds me that however successful I am professionally, my personal life has never been anything but a mess. Normally I don't mind...I know my life will work out how it's supposed to, and I've never been one to mind being single (and fabulous!) but the sudden influx of happy news from every other person I know has started to wear on me. I AM genuinely happy for all the people I care about, but it just reminds me of my failures. And my failures? Not something I want the world to see. In this post, it's just me, being honest, and putting my heart out there for everyone to explore. And losing my usual cover of strength and independence? Scary.

And that...that is why this post from last autumn is my worst post. Because re-reading it now, I can feel exactly how I felt then...and I realize that with all the hopeful promise of every new man I've met since then, or budding relationships, or imagined spark that flew, nothing has changed since then.

i made a promise to my heart to never let a soul inside.... (10/12/08)

the thing about me is that i'm not a forward person. i find it very difficult to just come out and say things face-to-face. i need a computer screen or a cell phone or a piece of paper to get anything out in a semi-eloquent way.

this factor of my personality is generally what leads to heartache for me. i've grown accustomed to coming in second place. i live life well as a runner-up on so many things, and the last couple years have really shown that to me.

in my head i know that i should just take the bull by the horns, jump in head first, etc. but the rest of me is terrified of the result. i fear making things awkward, and getting hurt more in the process. but is it easier to stand idly by and watch what i want slip through my fingers, or actually take the leap, get shot down, but at least know?

the awful part of me - the wildly insecure and still slightly timid part of me - expected something like this to happen. i've never known anything close to a happy ending before, so why would i think that all of a sudden life and love would just fall perfectly into place? it's a road i've been down many, many times, and maybe part of the problem is that i never fully invest myself in something, because a giant piece of me remains convinced it'll end badly.

i've been an optimist for years. glass half-full, see the rainbow through the rain, sunshine is only a cloudy day away.....but somehow, the positive outlook never gets around to my love life. in that area, i am a cynical, realistic pessimist. with the soul of a romantic. no wonder i always am disappointed so badly.

it's getting late and i'm getting no comfort out of words tonight, which is a change from the norm. i'm going to finish my glass of wine and go to bed, and hope that when i wake up tomorrow i'll have magically gained some perspective.

but i'm not counting on it.

The Best of Me....(Spin Cycle, part 2)

This second part of this week's Spin was again, pretty easy to come up with, especially since RA has been affecting me a lot the last couple of weeks. I've been having some pretty awful flares, and besides making me tired and cranky, I'm overemotional from lack of sleep and frustration. This is something I almost want to have printed out and ready to hand to people so they can understand what I'm dealing with daily, and in some cases, cut me a little slack.

Crawling in the dark...(Life with RA) (11/12/08)

I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis in 2005, when I was 22. I had gone into my primary physician complaining of lethargy and body aches, figuring I had some kind of virus, and after a course of antibiotics I’d be back to my old self. My doctor did some blood work, and found that my sedimentation rate was high, which suggested inflammation. She referred me to a rheumatologist, concerned that my symptoms could be a sign of either Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA) or Lupus, and I set up an appointment for a few weeks later.
My initial appointment was spent answering A LOT of questions about when I had the most pain, what different conditions, when I felt most tired, where the pain was worst, and on and on. I also got a lot of blood work done, and had x-rays taken of my chest, wrists, fingers, and knees. By the end of the appointment, my doctor thought that I showed symptoms of RA, and started me on 200mg daily of Celebrex, a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug (NSAID). I scheduled a follow-up for a month later, a few days after my 23rd birthday.
In the three years since then, I have been to the doctor more times than I care to count. I have had more blood drawn than seems humanly possible, and spent far too much money on medication and Icy-Hot. Not quite what I imagined my life would be like at 26.
I have been lucky.
My RA doesn’t seem to be progressing all that rapidly. I have been able to stay with Celebrex, and last year added Plaquenil to my daily oral dosings. Plaquenil is a disease-modifying antirheumatic drug (DMARD) that has been shown to prevent swelling and pain in arthritis sufferers, although, from my research, it’s not known quite how it works. With these two drugs, I have been extremely happy to discover I don’t have any major side effects.
However, in the last year, I was forced to switch from Celebrex to Aleve when my insurance no longer covered Celebrex. Painwise, the Aleve was successful. Unfortunately, taking it at the dosage I required caused me to have stomach pain, and after an endoscopy in August, I discovered that I have pre-ulcers. Now I am on a Tylenol regimen that isn’t nearly as effective, until my preauthorization to get Celebrex covered again comes through.
Occasionally I will go on a course of Prednisone, a steroid that reduces inflammation. This drug affects me in many ways, and I prefer to stay away from it. I become a different person when I am using it, prone to sudden mood swings, going from lethargic and mellow to bouncing off the walls. It also can cause weight gain, and sure enough, every time I use prednisone, I suddenly seem to have an extra 5-10 pounds or more that appears as if by magic, no matter what I do to prevent that. That in itself is an oxymoron, as I know that if I lose weight, my RA symptoms will ease, but every time I get into that groove, I end up on steroids again and balloon back up.
Even though my RA isn’t always that bad, there are times I have flare ups that make the simplest task seem impossible. There have been days where I’ve had to literally roll myself out of bed, and crawl to the shower, because I know hot water is the only thing that will help with my morning stiffness. Those mornings I thank God and my roommate that I got the room with the attached bathroom. Sometimes when my wrists and fingers are acting up, I find myself fighting tears at work because not only can I not type, and do my job, I can’t even focus enough to try. I’ve had many restless nights, unable to sleep because of pain in my hips, or knees, or shoulders, or ankles. And there have been too many times where I wanted to do something, but after having to drag myself around all day, I’m simply too exhausted to do more than collapse on the couch and stare into space.
Cold weather is difficult as well – it makes the swelling of my fingers worse, and they actually turn purple. This is something called Raynaud's, and it is common in patients with RA. It’s not unusual to see me wearing gloves a lot once the weather turns cooler, in an attempt to keep my joints warm enough to function. Flying is especially bad – something about the cabin pressure and the cooler temperature – and I’ve been known to don gloves on flights in the middle of summer.
Living with RA is difficult, and not necessarily because of the symptoms of the disease. Rheumatoid arthritis is not an illness with visibility. You can’t see someone suffering from RA and know what they’re living with. People who don’t know my situation probably think I’m lazy on my bad days, when I take the elevator up one floor at work, or when I mention that I’m going right home from work and sleeping. It’s not an image I want coworkers to have of me, but the sad truth is, RA has affected my life more than I thought possible when I was diagnosed.
There is no rheumatoid arthritis in my family that I know of. RA isn’t necessarily a genetic disease, although it can be passed down. Doctors don’t know why some people get RA and some don’t. RA doesn’t only hit senior citizens. There is no age restriction for arthritis. However, from what I’ve found in research, my age at diagnosis was slightly more unusual, as most people develop RA between the ages of 25 and 50. Women are affected by RA three times more often than men.
Being a 26 year old woman with rheumatoid arthritis is an experience, and since diagnosis, a new set of fears. I face day to day challenges on some of the most routine tasks that I’ve been doing for years. Tying my shoes, walking up stairs, brushing my hair...all things I’ve done without issue since I was a child, but now have problems with. And new fears? I’m scared that the things that I’ve always counted on in my life will never happen. I’m afraid that by the time I’m ready to have children, my disease will have progressed to the point where I won’t be able to, or I won’t have the energy to play with them if I am able to have them. I’m scared that I will lose my independence at a much younger age that I ever could have guessed, and my freedom is something I value more than most things.
I do try to be more active to help keep me mobile and energized. I bounce back and forth on Weight Watchers – again, it’s hard to stay motivated when a part of me knows that the next time I’m back on certain medications, I’ll just fail again. But I press on – trying to change my lifestyle to keep myself from requiring hip replacement surgery in my thirties.
I have to say that not everything has been bad since being diagnosed. I’ve really learned how many people care about me in the last few years. My family has pulled around me, and my friends have been a huge support. I’ve surrounded myself with amazing people, and it’s paying off. There are days when I don’t want to go to work, don’t want to leave my apartment, don’t even want to get out of bed, but I know I have people I can reach for, or call, and they’ll put some motivation back into me.
I’ve also learned how strong I am. How I can work through pain and fear and confusion and get things done. How I can inspire others, and inspire myself.
I have been lucky. On so many levels.
However, I know luck changes. But I also know that if and when it does, I have the strength of my family, and my friends to get me through it. More than that, I know that I have the strength within myself to push through whatever this life throws at me.

This December I will be participating in the Arthritis Foundation's Annual Jingle Bell 5K. December 7th marks my 4th year walking, and I am eager to once again face the challenge - 3.2 miles that start with a fairly intimidating hill, usually tromping through ice and snow. I've done it 3 times before, and I can do it again.

I'm asking for support doing this - my hope is that even if there is no cure found in time to help me, maybe research will develop new treatments with less side effects, or even a cure by the time my future children may have to deal with this.
If you have the ability, please sponsor me in the Jingle Bell Walk. I truly appreciate every donation, no matter the size. If you can't donate, please keep me in your thoughts on December 7th!

Thank you all for the support and encouragement!

To donate: My Fundraising Page

November 2005 Article about me in Oakland Press

The Best of Me....(Spin Cycle, part 1)

This week's Spin Cycle assignment is an easy one - find your favorite post in your archives, and add an intro. Since I've had no time lately in which to actually blog (I swear, I really am going to get caught up. Someday. 2012, perhaps?) this seemed ideal. I have two that'll I'll be using.

My first favorite post was easy to come up with - this is the post that has been passed around coworkers, blogger friends, random acquaintances. It was featured on Good Mom/Bad Mom one Sunday (still the pride of my blogging-life) and I still laugh/cringe every time I read.

Enjoy.


'No, those are NOT my Magnum condoms' (or, why I will never use U-Scan again) (8/26/08)

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not the girl to get easily embarrassed.
Fall off a table while dancing? Check. (and I was sober!)
Puke on a fire hydrant while hungover? Check. (no, I'm not proud)
Accidentally tell an [ex]co-worker about the sex dream they played a large role in? Double check. (alcohol was possibly involved)
Fart in mixed company? Many, many, many checks.
Sing inappropriate songs of the 90s in front of coworkers? Too many times to count. (and sadly, no, alcohol was not ALWAYS involved)

So yes, been there. Done that. Laughed about it afterwards. Sometimes for years, because some of those stories just won't die....

But until tonight, I have never know true mortification.

It starts out simply, and innocently, enough. I stopped at Meijer on the way home to pick up some fruit, a few Lean Cuisines, diet soda, some hair smoothing crap.

Looking at the two lanes that were actually open, and twelve people deep each, I decided to just skip to the U-Scan. This isn't unusual, as unless I am doing one of my semi-annual large shopping trips, I usually opt for the 'quicker' route.

Today though...oh no. Not today.

I waited patiently in line, and when the man in front of me had grabbed his bags and left, I moseyed on up to the scanner, and proceeded to scan my eleven or so items, bagging them as I went. I was impressed with myself because at this point, my trip had only taken me 15 minutes, and $30, and this is very unusual for me. Anywhere.

After I signed the little card reader that would make John Hancock's signature look like it was scrawled by a monkey with no thumb, I loaded my few bags into my tiny cart (yes, I know, I had four bags, but anytime I don't use one, I inevitably rip at least two bags, and end up losing a jar of pickles or a gallon of milk to the parking lot) and headed for the door.

Nothing spectacular, right?

As soon as I pushed my cart through the exit, the alarm goes off. Naturally, I stopped right in the middle of the door, confused as to what this loud noise was, and why a man in a red shirt was waving at me to come back.

Figuring the only interesting thing they would find would be that I had already scarfed down a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup in the time I waited in line (read: 2 seconds), I turned around, and when man in red shirt asked if I minded waiting for the manager, I assured him that was fine. And when said manager (let's call him Steve - that's a bad name for me, and this was NOT a fun experience) came up to the front, and asked if I minded him looking through my grocery bags, I agreed once again. I handed him my receipt and stood back, assuming it was my MP3 player or cell phone that set off the alarm, as they are wont to do.

So imagine my complete and utter surprise when Steve pulls out a box of Trojan Magnum-XL condoms, and asks if I was planning on paying for them.....

I'm pretty sure my jaw is still recovering from hitting itself on the floor.

Confused, but still trying not to laugh, I told Steve that I hadn't been down that aisle - to be honest, I don't even know which aisle that is. In my nervousness, I am sure I gave that poor man waaaay too much information about my lack of the sex. In turn, I maybe just gave all you readers too much information as well, but that's neither here nor there.

At this point, Steve has turned as red as red shirt guy's red shirt. I'm pretty sure I had totally slipped into nervous laughter and stuttering, as I tried to explain that I definitely did not 'accidentally' throw those in my bag.

Red shirt guy is standing to the side, continuing to help the inept people trying to scan their groceries, and comes up with the brilliant (seriously, he was smarter than Steve - someone needs a raise and promotion) idea of looking at the receipt log, to see if maybe a customer before me had paid for them, bagged them, and accidentally left them.

Turns out, it was the guy before me.

Many many years back, I dated a boy (we were young, back then) who was well over 6 feet tall, and probably 120 pounds soaking wet.

The guy in front of me? Could have been his double. If you subtracted about a foot, leaving him a few inches shorter than myself. Add in a soul patch and a creepy thin mustache, take off about 10 pounds. Douse in Polo Sport (delicious smell, but really guys? Moderation? Is key.)

Manager Steve now feels bad for essentially accusing me of shoplifting enormous condoms. They've been paid for. Creepy little man has probably left the parking lot at this point. So what is the natural course of action?

Obviously, offer the tomato-faced girl who has just bemoaned her lack of a man-friend a free pack of Magnum-XLs. That'll make her feel SO much better. And definitely less humiliated.

I politely declined, but it seemed like Steve was insisting. For one crazy moment, I figured I could just hand them off to a friend that might find them useful.

Then I realized -- I can easily live the rest of my life without knowing which of my friends (or their lovahs) require extra-large condoms. I'm pretty sure it would always be creeping up in the back of my mind - 'Hi Jane, this is my friend John Doe. He needs MAGNUM-XLs! Lucky you!! Woot woot!'

No thanks. That's just information I should never encounter.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, before I could once again refuse, Creepy Little Guy from before ran in, sweating, and blew right past Steve and I, checked the empty scanner/bagging area that we had previously shared, and then turned to Red Shirt: 'Um, I think...I mean, I know...I left a bag...I bought some things...and forgot them. And I really need...my things. Did someone find them?'

Red Shirt pointed him in our direction, and Steve quietly said to me 'Sorry for the hassle...have a nice night' as he swiftly grabbed the box out of my bag, ran it over the sensor deactivator, put it in an empty bag, and handed it over to CLG.

At this point, I was already hightailing it out of the store so I wouldn't start laughing so hysterically that I peed myself, but had to step aside as CLG ran past me yet again, then proceeded to stop, turn, and say 'Hate to run outta these!' followed by a wink.

I got in my car and laughed for a good ten minutes before I felt sane enough to drive home.

So, summary?

Groceries - $30
Time shopping/in line - 16 minutes
Time spent with a rogue box of condoms - 20 minutes
Leaving your dignity somewhere between the 1 penny pony rides, and bags of charcoal - Priceless

catching up.....

What? It's been a month?

Hoooooly crap do I have a lot to share.

Tonight, when I get home from work, I will be catching up on a month of blog posts from all you other lovelies (or at least the last week or so...otherwise my head might explode) and then sharing my last moon cycle's worth of stories.....after all, gotta know what's going on before this weekend!

see you in chicago....

It's official! Middle-Aged Woman and I are officially heading out to Chicago BlogHer weekend!

So, you know, if you'll be around, speak up!

and i just can't pour my heart out to another living thing.....

I have a new goal for myself -- try to allow myself to depend on other people more.
I'm really bad at that.

Also, grow some balls and take a chance on something.....I'm really good at getting close to expressing what I want, and then backing off at the last second. Which is, you know....fairly useless.

Goal number three - not be afraid to show emotion beyond crying at a movie/TV show/wedding/etc. Stop trying to smile all the time. Sometimes I just need to fall apart, at least a little bit. Why do I think that no one wants to be around for that? My friends are the best people in the world. They can handle my ridiculousness.

Finally, last goal - finish a freaking blog post once in a while. I keep starting them, saving them, and forgetting about them.

Don't worry, there was nothing interesting.

good news! and, tagged!

Good news first! I applied for a scholarship from my school and found out last Friday that I got it! Yay!

And the lovely MAW tagged me for this....I actually started it this morning, but kept having to go lie down cause I was tired or dizzy....it's probably the pig flu.

What are your current obsessions?

watching the trailer for Glee over and over, cause it looks amazing. Also, reading old American Idol recaps on TWOP which really soothes me for some reason. Don't know why. I'm a weirdo.

Which item from your wardrobe do you wear the most often?

Either my EMU sweatpants or one of my EMU sweatshirts. Pretty much, anything comfy, really.

What’s for dinner?

If I manage to motivate myself, chicken noodle soup and Sprite. But I have to go to store if I want that, so not likely to happen.

What is your greatest fear at the moment?

At this precise moment, I am fearless. Being a little delirious from fever and exhaustion probably helps....

What are you listening to?

The Glee trailer. Again.

What are your favorite holiday spots?

Wherever my family is.

What are you reading right now?

Nothing at the moment - I have a few books on hold at the library though, will be picking those up tomorrow

What is your guilty pleasure?

see 'obsessions'

Who or what makes you laugh?

who or what doesn't?

What is your favorite Spring thing to do?

The first night where I can take a long drive with the windows down and the music up. People wonder why I don't fly when I go visit my family in Tennessee....I think because long drives alone are one of the few times I really feel at peace.

Where are you planning to travel next?

Hoping to go see Becca in San Diego over Labor Day, but not sure if it'll pan out

What is the best thing you ate or drank lately?

Water, just a few minutes ago.

When was the last time you were tipsy?

for about three minutes Saturday night, right before it switched to falling-down, pants-shitting, bad decision-making, table-dancing drunk (for the record, I only did one of those things) It was one of my good friends bachelorette parties :-)

What is your favorite ever film?

Princess Bride, Sabrina, Say Anything, Shawshank Redemption

What is the biggest life lesson you’ve learned from your kids?

That they don't exist?

What book do you know you should read but refuse to?

I can't think of anything....I will pretty much read whatever is put in front of me

What is your physical abnormity/abnormal physical ability?

Abnormally long toes. I posted a picture of them somewhere.

What is your favorite color?

Blues and greens. All of 'em. <--- Same as my Auntie M

Can the people outside your car hear the music playing inside your car?

Probably. It's most fun when I forget I have the windows down and I'm belting out some Xtina and dancing in my car, and a car full of businessmen pulls up next to me and starts laughing....

My addition: In a perfect world, how many hours sleep would you get per night?

10-12. I love sleep.

And I'm not tagging anyone individually, because I am too tired to copy and paste in links, so I tag everyone, all at once. Win.

and this is why i will never settle for anything less than everything....

My mother, Tenn Lady, posted this today: This One's For You!

Yes, my parents are that couple -- the one that celebrates the anniversary of their first kiss, and their first date, and their engagement. The one that remembers the dates of all the milestones in their relationship better than most couples remember their wedding anniversary. The couple that is adorable in a way that is almost sickening (definitely sickening when you're 15, and already considered a weirdo at school, and you are trapped at Wendy's with your parents who are holding hands and being cute, while certain members of your class look on, already planning the attack on you the next day at school for being (GASP!) the product of a happy home and loving marriage). The couple that if you are a stranger walking behind them at the grocery store, you will undoubtedly notice the way that when they are walking side-by-side, their hands just automatically find each other.

My parents got engaged thirty years ago today....thirty years of a love that is still going strong. Thirty years of sharing a life with someone. Thirty years of raising two daughters (which could NOT have been easy....the two of us are a handful) and helping them grow into good people.

Thirty years that I have been lucky to witness almost twenty-seven of. And those years I've seen....well, they have shown me what real love is. What true love looks like. What making someone else a part of your life means. And to me, that is the best gift I've ever been given.

So, from the example of my adorable parents, I have learned that I will never settle. Whether it takes two years or twenty, I will find that person who makes me whole, who complements me without constraining me, who understands that while I am fiercely independent and wildly over-emotional, I really just want someone who gets me. And if I find a man who can see this, and if we end up becoming anywhere close to the couple my parents are, I will know that I found something real.

"Some people are settling down, some people are settling and some people refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies." (Sex and the City)

scenes from a family car ride....

[summary of the drive home from dinner]
My mom, showing me things in Cookeville, and pointing: And that's the senior center....and that's the senior housing...
Me, horrified: THE CEMETERY?!?!
::hilarity ensues::
Mom: No, the....the houses.
Me: ::laughs like a crazy person::
Mom: Do NOT pee yourself laughing in my car.

All these mistakes I've made....and all the ways I've changed.....

I've failed out of college.
Twice.

The first time, my freshman year at Western Michigan University. When I started the year, I was 'the good girl.' I had never had a drink in my life before that. I was actively involved at my church back home, and for the first two months, did an admirable job of trying to stick to my previously-untested scruples. But it was college, and I was 18, and I had freedom for the first time in my life, so eventually, I caved in. And went down in a blaze of glory. There was no shot I wouldn't try, no party I wouldn't go to, no drunken frat boy I wouldn't make out with. For a girl who had spent high school as a bit of an outsider, kissing two guys all through my teen years, sudden male attention was too much for me to handle. I ate it up, and spent months getting wasted and throwing myself at whatever boy stood too close. It wasn't til I got to know the guy who would become the most heart-breaking, real, wonderful, tear-inducing, sweet, encouraging, gut-wrenching man in my life (but that is a much different story), that I realized I had just spent six months trying to find what I had with him. I settled down, but by then it was too late. I had spent too long in the cycle of partying, sleeping in, hangovers, skipping class, and basically ignoring what I was supposed to be doing in Kalamazoo to make up for the fact that I messed up. I left the school in April knowing I wouldn't be going back.
When I got back to my hometown, I was embarrassed and ashamed, but mostly, disappointed in myself. Here I was, a girl who graduated with honors, who generally was on the honor roll, never got into trouble, had known she was off to do great things, coming home a failure. I went back to my high school job, and that first summer, saw old friends from high school often, always avoiding the question of how my first year of college went.
I was determined to change my story.
I enrolled in a community college near home. I started in September, excited, and confident that I would thrive here. My semester began strong, and I was sure that I was just going to do this for a year before I moved on to another university, perhaps something other than a general state school. I dreamt of art and design school, of going into advertising, or becoming a photographer, or an interior designer. I knew I was destined for greatness.
But old habits die hard, and soon I was falling back into my old ways. The partying was no longer the issue - it was just laziness, not caring, not knowing what I wanted. After a few semesters, I once again found myself on the receiving end of an academic dismissal letter. This time I was furious. What the hell was wrong with me? I should have been having the time of my life, doing what I loved - meeting new people, and learning as much as I could about...as much as I could. Why were the idiots I knew in high school beating me now?

I took a little time off. I threw myself into working, bouncing from job to job as soon as a better opportunity opened up. I made more friends in the area, and spent every waking moment with them. I had lost who I was, but I was finding myself again, and in a different light. I was no longer the smart girl, the good girl, the sweet girl. The world had kicked me down, I had let it, and I was no longer going to just lie down and take it.

So I tried again...another community college, with an interior design program. When I realized how much I hated that, I switched to photography and finally found my niche. I was good. I had an eye for it, and I found my home in the darkroom. Any time I didn't have a camera around my neck or my hands covered in developer, I was framing shots in my head - eating dinner with my parents, driving to work, sitting at the coffee shop I frequented. I started to believe that this was my calling, and started to make plans - major in business and photography, start my own studio, make a living off shooting weddings and pictures of babies and dogs, and make my life whole by keeping my dad's old Minolta with me at all times, finding beauty in everyday scenes. I was ecstatic that I finally had a purpose, a talent, something that made me feel alive.

But then the pain started....at first it was just an annoyance....my ankles that kept cracking whenever I moved, the "growing pains" that were unexplainable - at 22 I wasn't getting any taller. My shoulders and hips ached, my wrists were on fire, and soon it spread into my fingers. I was popping upwards of twenty Motrin a day, and still barely able to get around. I couldn't sleep because of the pain. In the morning, I couldn't move my joints without agony. The only fix was to crawl to the shower, struggle to reach the faucet, and then huddle on the floor while hot water pounded over me. I started making doctor appointments, and after months of tests and medication, I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. I took the news as well as could be expected, but after research and more appointments with my specialist, realized that making a living as a photographer wouldn't be likely. The constant activity, the cold, the minute movements required to be successful - as much as I wanted the dream, I didn't want to ruin my body by doing it. I knew it would be a hobby, but nothing more.

And so once again, I threw myself into work. I decided I was done with school, and focused on learning as much as I could hands-on. I went as far as I could at one job, and started another. After the initial few months of panic, of feeling in over my head, I slowly became more confident. People started to depend on me. My opinion was valued. My company was great to work for. I made great friends, and really enjoyed what I was doing. Through it all, I waited for the restlessness - the itch that came after a year and a half or two years to move on. But it never came. I was happy with where I was, and sure that I had a long future ahead of me.

One morning, shortly after I turned 26, I woke up wondering when I'd become so complacent. Sure, I loved my job, but where was it headed? In my department, there's no real room for growth...just a steady source of income, and the same thing, day after day. There were challenges, sure, but nothing I couldn't conquer within a few hours. I was starting to get bored again.

Instead of jumping ship, as had become my way, I suddenly made the decision - I was going back to school. I'd get my business degree, move to research, and then basically take over the world. I decided that on a Tuesday morning, and by Wednesday night, my application to Eastern Michigan University was submitted, and transcript requests to my previous three schools were on their way. My ACT scores had been requested, and I was beginning to compose a letter to the transfer director, making my case - maybe my GPA wasn't pretty to look at, but damnit, I was motivated!

A few weeks later, I was accepted, and a couple months after that, I met with an advisor. I picked my classes for winter semester, filled out my financial aid forms, and prepared to lose most of my social life for a couple of years.

January 5th came, and classes began. I walked in each day ready to learn. I attacked my online classes with gusto, and became a standout student in both. My speech class was a piece of cake (God knows I love to talk) and even my statistics class was going well. I studied hard, worked my ass off, and for three and a half months, lugged around a heavy backpack so I could do homework on my lunch at work, or while watching a movie at a friend's. This time, I knew, I would succeed.

And at the end of my first semester back at school, I have exceeded my expectations. I finished the term with a 3.57 - 3 A's, and a C+ in that pesky stats class (still above my goal of a C). I made the Dean's List, I applied for a scholarship that I became eligible for, and more than that, received two recommendation letters that proved to myself how capable I had become - one from my Business Communications professor, and one from a VP at work that I work with often. I decided to take a break for spring semester, and only one class in the summer, but this fall, I'll be back full time again, with 4 classes.

For the first time in my life, I am eagerly anticipating the second semester at a school. And with all the mistakes I made the first couple of times, the disappointment of the third, and the personal failures, challenges, and triumphs along the way, I know I am ready to take on the world, and this time, instead of getting kicked down, I will kick ass.