The Oddball

Confession Time: I'm the world's biggest dork. Those of you that know me well are sitting at your computers nodding your head and giggling. For those of you that don't believe me, lets flash back a few years to 6th grade. I was home schooled 1-5th; that's not a *bad* thing mind you, not at all, but it greatly inhibited my social skills. I walk in to my very first day of public school wearing this: Bright orange and red pedal pusher pants (hellloooooo 90's) a bright orange shirt with a GIANT picture of red sparkly sunglasses not-so-strategically placed *directly* across my chest, tennis shoes (which is bad enough in b/c in Florida everyone only wears flip flops) WITH socks and a blue back pack that must have stuck a foot out from my back. If that wasn't bad enough, I had a large ( and dearly beloved) sparkly blue lunch-box and an insulated water bottle which I tied to the strings that hung down either side of my backpack. Oh yea, I was the picture of cool.... and by that I mean I was the biggest walking target from the "boonies" that ever lived. Thankfully, my fashion sense has improved but I'm still that same girl on the inside. I used to get picked on sooo much when I was younger, my hair was fluffy, I couldn't dress to save my life, and I always had my nose in a book. So, I learned to change my ways so that people would think I was "cool". Yes yes I realize that was stupid, but you're positively lying if you say you would have done otherwise so don't even try me. I learned how to talk, dress, and act so that I would have some semblance of fitting in. Until recently I never realized that I guard myself when I talk to people. When I text some one that I don't know as well I carefully phrase each sentence so that I don't sound weird or dorky. How dumb is that? I actually can't believe I'm admitting that, but it's true! I've realized lately that doing that makes absolutely zero sense. If I can't just speak how I normally speak, and act how I always do, even if that person likes me or enjoys me, they don't like me for who I am. They like me for who I *pretend* to be. To be perfectly honest, it's tiring and annoying and overall frustrating to pretend that you're something you're not all the time and sooner or later no one will be fooled. Usually I take the last part of my blog to give some tidbit of self-discovered wisdom, or a quote blah blah blah but to tell you the truth I'm not gonna do that this time. Why? Because I still don't quite have this figured out! I'm just now starting to accept my oddball status and realize that I like myself way better this way. It kind of goes along with my "Hot pink and sparkles" entry that I wrote a few days ago. That was my discovery of how much I enjoy being different. I'm going to be a camp counselor this summer. I will be working with 3 other girl counselors and 4 guys and to be honest I'm scared out of my mind. My little dorky inner self is still saying "What if I'm too weird, what if they don't like me, what if (heaven forbid) even my campers think I'm weird. OH NO!" The theme for camp this summer is "A Battle to Fight" and that's exactly what I'm doing right now. That's not just my inner dorky self talking, that is the evil one trying to lure me over and change my mind and cripple my heart. 1 Peter 5:8 says "Be self controlled and alert. Your enemy, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion searching for someone to devour". Well guess what? I don't feel like being a mid-meal snack today! So, I'm gonna sing the song that Dory sings in Finding Nemo to the fish that tries to eat them "No eating here tonight, No eating here tonight, No no no eating here tonight, you're onnn aaaa diiiietttt". I will bask in my oddball self knowing that God made me that way. Insecure or not, I will fight my battles and I will win because the one that is more powerful than any other is on my side, whether I'm a dork or not. 

10 Little Fingers and 10 Tiny Toes

When I was in 8th grade, my family adopted my little brother Shaun. I will never forget the day they brought him home. They got out of the car and my mom handed this little baby to me and he looked up at me, right in the eye, and smiled. I fell in love. My little brother has changed my life in so many ways. He's made me believe what my mom always told me; little kids are tough to handle! He's taught me that anything can be fun, you just have to make it that way. He's taught me so many things, but most importantly he's taught me something that seems so simple, but in truth it's so difficult to do. To Love. Any of you who have a small child, or sibling you know what I'm talking about. The purity of heart in a child is simply astounding. Their honesty is mind blowing, they act how they feel and they love so freely it's almost confusing. Shaun always puts numbers to the amount of his love. He will say "I love you 1000" or 100 or whatever. On some days, (if you're being really cool and worthy of some extra love) you'll get a huge number like 92573401 kajibillion. He never stops to remember the times I've let him down when he tells me he loves me. He never reminds me of all the things I should be doing for him that I don't when he runs up and gives me hugs. He never hesitates to tell me that he loves me 100 or a million, because to him it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I'm his sister and he loves me. I'm pretty sure I've never been more touched than when he had alphabet week at school and he brought in a picture of us and talked about the letter "L" for his best friend and big sister Lindsay. Never mind the fact I was 5 hours away at college, never mind the fact that I don't call enough or visit as much as I should. He only remembers the 5 minute chats or the piece of gum I give him (usually just to keep him quiet for a few minutes). He's always willing to play a game or give a hug. The love of a child reminds me so much of the unfailing love of my savior. I *know* that God uses Shaun to remind me of him and his love for me. I remember recently when my boyfriend and I broke up, I was crying one day when I was visiting home and Shaun just came and sat in my lap and said "It's ok Z, you still my best friend". I didn't ask him to do that, but he did because he knew I needed to be reminded that I'm loved. Over and over Shaun has touched my life and my heart. I was blessed the day he was born and God decided that his mother who couldn't care for him would love him enough to give him away and that my family would be hugely blessed to have him become one of our own. The little things he does just make me giggle, like how he calls Publix "Pugwix" or his little glasses, or when he dances around or sings to his kids bop cd. Some days I wish he would never grow up. But the truth is, it doesn't matter how old he gets I can never ever replace the spot in my heart that was walked on by ten tiny toes and imprinted by 10 little fingers of the little brother that changed my life.

Hot Pink and Sparkles

Ok, so anyone that knows me (even just a little bit) probably knows that I love to paint nails. I'm not sure where it started or how it started, but somewhere along the line a bottle of liquid pink and sparkles got me hooked. If I were to give you the obvious reasons why I love to paint nails it would sound silly: they're pretty, you can use your favorite colors, etc. Sounds like a bad essay written by a 3rd grade girl with a social interaction problem. But, to be honest with you, there's things about painting nails that no one thinks about. I love it because it's a way to express yourself. More often than not, you'll see me unapologetically sporting hot pink, bright orange, or acid green nails. I love it that way. I'm loud, excited, and crazy and I like my fingers to represent that. The thing about expressing your personality through nail color is that when it starts to chip away, all you have to do it bust out the acetone and do them again. Your actual personality and creativity is not so easily healed. If someone or something keeps wearing and wearing on your spirit and chipping  away at your heart, eventually the hot pink you once loved will be a dull grey, much harder to replace. I used to feel that way, like the sparkles in my personality had lost their luster. I felt like no matter how hard I tried, everyone else in the world was painting their personality boring colors like "nude" and "muted rose petal #55". ew ew ew. I tried the whole pasty pink and pantyhose tan personalities, but they just didn't fit. But, I hid my sparkles because I didn't want to be strange and immature. Here's what I'm beginning to realize: it doesn't matter what I do, or how old I get, that cheetah print, neon pink, and glitter will always be in my heart. No matter how old I get or where I go, that's who I am. *So what* if no one else does that? I.don't.need.them.too. You know why? Because the right people will accept me, princess complex and all. I'll keep my tu-tu thank you very much. So what if I sneeze glitter and still wish I could be a Disney Princess? Take back your " muted rose petal #55" nail polish, I don't want it! My nails will forever be an example of how I feel in my heart and that's the way I know it should be.