Life Plans and Kissing...

My mind has been jumbling through several different things. First of all, just in general, it makes me upset that I feel like I’m constricted in what I can write here because of the possibility of who may be reading this. I’m sure if you are reading this, then you’re fine. Don’t suddenly be afraid of: “Oh gosh. Whitney hates ME.” No. Not it at all.

Anyway, no need to dwell on that thought any more. I just won’t say certain things that are on my mind--even though they’re the things I probably need to get out the most. So, don’t ask. I won’t tell and I’ll most likely lie and say, “I don’t know. Just lots of different things.” That is me avoiding the subject, so let’s save some time and some breath by just not asking at all! Woo!

Now that that’s done with:

I’ve been worrying about my life recently. Like, my life plan.

Seriously, what in the world am I going to do?

Well, first off, if I was giving myself advice I’d ask, “Well, Whitney, what do you want to do?”

Goodness. What I want to do? I guess a lot of things. I want to move to Japan, I want to do something with my art, impact people, make change, do something different, I want to be a good wife, a good mother (SOMEDAY), I want to go places and ride rides, swim in the ocean, go to the mountains and be in a hot tub while its snowing, I want to help my neighbors, be a light for them, I want to open my own ice skating rink and live upstairs, I want to write books, I want to illustrate books, I want to draw and paint. I want to do something.

And at this point, I would have no clue what to say to myself except maybe a: “...why don’t you do those things?”

Because I don’t know how! I need money! Time! And actually a clue! I say I want to do something with art. What in the world does that mean? Art is such a broad term! Drawing? I like that. Painting? Its pretty but I’m not very good at it. Computer Design? I love working on the computer for art, but I don’t want to get stuck doing logos and posters for the rest of my life.

Complain! Complain! Complain!

What my thinking always seems to bottle down to is… I’m not good enough. Why in the freaking world would I be good enough? Sure, I have potential. I have ambition. But, so do a whole lot of other beautifully talented people. Why am I so different?

And, see right there. That sentence above. A friend of mine asked me that same question about himself and I told him the truth, why I thought he was amazing and why he could do it... And I believed that! Why can’t I believe in myself?

I’m pretty sure I’ve written previous posts about this. (Long time ago.) How this is what I always fall back on. My life’s sad, sad motif.

It’s self-pity, that’s what it is. I want someone to lift me up and tell me I’m awesome.

Isn’t that sad?

But, whatever. I CAN DO THIS. I’m going to live my life not afraid. I’ve been given this life. I can make something out of it. My dreams. They can become reality. I just…have to stop thinking. Easy enough, right?

　


Oh, something else I’ve been thinking about--and this may sound really, really strange and if you want to ignore me when you see me or talk about how weird I am behind my back: Go ahead! But, I’ve been thinking about kissing.

And, how weird it is. Have you ever thought about it? You put your mouth…on someone else’s mouth. How weird.

Now, my first kiss was with the boy who is still my beloved boyfriend. We weren’t even dating at the time. And, I was really nervous because I felt in my gut that he was going to kiss me, even the day before.

And, I admit it, I wanted him to, partly because I liked him, partly because I was curious as to what it felt like--seriously, almost 18 years of wondering--and partly because I have no idea why!

And, long story short, he finally kissed me.

Cue the fireworks and magically awesome fairy dust--!

--Wait. No. That’s not what happened.

I don’t know about anyone else, but my first kiss wasn’t all that magical. Seriously, the curiosity took over all other thought.

Kissing felt weird! I couldn’t tell what was happening and I was just doing whatever.

My brain told me: You want more of this. You need to figure out why it feels this way. So, that’s why I kept kissing. I had to decode what was going on.

And, for a long time I felt kind of bad because there were no fireworks. Were there supposed to be? Am I a crazy freak for being so curious about what kissing feels like? Probably.

Anyway, that’s really strange thing for me to write about… and if this was “TMI…” why’d you keep reading, ya freak? (insert laughter) Just kidding!

Oh, I will say something, though, kissing has become more magical as this past year and a half have gone by... Not sure why. But... it’s wonderful, and I don't want it to ever stop.

--OK. Whoa. I think I just flew right past the cheesiness boundaries! Sorry folks. This blog post officially needs to end on the account of third degree cheesy slaughter.