My life as I know it

Many people who know me well know that I struggle with anxiety and worrying too much about everything. A few weeks ago I stumbled across a journal entry written in 2005 (handwritten I might add - only a few weeks before I started my blog). I read over the journal entry and was so shocked that three years later I still struggle so much with worrying and letting my anxiety get the best of me. I guess I was hoping that with time my worrying would just disappear? Wishful thinking. The following is my journal entry: October 17, 2005 "Worrying is like being in a rocking chair. It occupies your time but doesn't get you anywhere." This quote is so very true, but yet so many people still spend much of their lives worrying. Why is this? Is it an innate characteristic that when strong feelings are involved, rationalizing is nearly impossible? Or is it all a matter of learning self-control and being able to tame that voice inside your head known as your conscious? I am tru

I don't think I've shared with you how very much I love my new home. I stand corrected. Our new home. I have spent the past 6 years living in dorm rooms and apartments. Places you know are only temporary and therefore never really get the feeling of being "home" when you're there (**I recognize that some people live in apartments for a long period of time and do treat them as a home - this just never happened for me). When you live somewhere that you know is only temporary, you never really go that extra mile to dress it up and make it your own. You don't even care for it in the same way that you would if it were yours. In a house that you know is yours, however, you really value it and take extra good care of it (maybe because you know if something goes wrong - it's on you! No landlord or maintenance person to call. And trust me - the honey-do lists don't have nearly the same sense of urgency). Okay, so enough about all of that boring home ownership

I found out this morning that my 95 year-old Grandma (she would have been 96 in December) passed away last night in the nursing home where she's been staying for the past year. Although it's a natural part of life for someone of her age to pass on, it still makes me very sad. There's something about knowing that you will never have the opportunity to see or talk to someone again that is so difficult to bear. Forever is such a long time. No matter how much time you spent with someone or how many memories you have with them, there's always that need and desire for more. More time. More memories. More of them. She was such a warm and compassionate person. I enjoyed every moment I ever spent with her. She was quite the talker (hey, I get it honest, right?). I always knew that when I called her I was in for a long conversation. I will really miss those. I learned a lot from my Great Grandma. She introduced me to the soap opera General Hospital which I know she watched the en

I met with the oral surgeon yesterday about my freaking never-ending drama of the mouth. It reminded me of all the headaches and hassles I've gone through with my teeth over the last 14 or so years and I must say, it's getting old. When complaining to my dad, he reminded me that it could be worse. I could have been born with cerebral palsy or some terrible, debilitating disease. And he's right. But I also could have been born with normal teeth. What a concept! Before I bring you up to speed about the procedures I'm going to endure over the next seven months, let's first go over a brief timeline of my dental history: Birth to Age 6: sucked my thumb every moment I could. Bad idea, Emily. REALLY bad idea. Preschool'sh: tried to impress friends by jumping off the teetor tottern (aka see saw). Bad idea, Emily. REALLY bad idea. Teetor totter, meet my jaw. Jaw meet the teetor totter. Moments later I went to rinse out at the drinking fountain only to realize I had knock

I decided to sign up for an adult tap class. One of the things I have always said that I really miss from high school (one of the only things I miss from high school) was taking dance lessons. I always wanted to take a tap class during college but BG only offered one and it was for those who have never put on a tap shoe before in their life so I opted not to take it (although it should have been an easy A!). When someone told me about the Beck Center for the Arts in Lakewood offering adult dance classes, I got really excited! They offer classes in levels 1, 2, and 3. 1 is for those who have never tapped before, 2 is for those who have only tapped for one year, and 3 is for those with two or more years of tapping experience. Although I tapped for about eight years growing up, given the fact that I haven't tapped in over 6 years, I thought it would be in my best interest to start with the level 2 class. Unfortunately, this fall they only offer level 1 or 3. When I talked so someone a