- White guy flirting with me at work: So, where do you go to school? What are your real passions?
- Black guy flirting with me at work: Ey gurl, you got a boyfriend?
- Me: Mmm... Well, yeah.
- Black guy: Aw yeah? Looks like you would.
- Girls: A nice, warm and cosy cuddle.
- Boys: A dead arm, a face full of hair and an awkward erection you can do nothing about.
Promotion & Raise, I Come In The Name Of Love
Honestly, I’ve been a real mess lately. I’ve been all over the place. Both emotionally and spiritually, I have struggled to maintain my composure and I feel as though every single one of my thoughts has been written on my face, clear as triply-filtered water for all to see. Haha. I apologize to those who saw me mess up recently, who witnessed me in my times of low self-esteem and worth. I am such a hypocrite that I don’t deserve to live and call myself a Christian. I don’t deserve these blessings, this raise, this higher position, this esteem boost, this confidence in myself. It’s like, God knows just when to show up whenever I am at my lowest point. I can’t sit here and not shout it out. Just listen for once.
Yeah, I may have slipped several times in the past couple months, but the world is yet to see me fall. I won’t give up. God’s grace is greater still. His love for me is everlasting. My cup runneth over even when I’m selfish enough to say I am not thirsty. I wish others lived this life with me. I sometimes wish God wasn’t the only one observing my every waking moment with me. I swear to you that if you were me, you would understand why I believe so strongly in what I do and live by. You could see God the way I see Him, the ways He has worked in my wimpy life alone. He’s the only good thing within me. Whenever He’s not there, which has been often, it’s obvious. Non-Christians can tell when He isn’t there. That’s what is so weird about all of this- I yearn to be genuine and wholehearted about sharing my faith and triumphs and love because they can all tell when you fake it. Life is such a struggle. No matter what happens to me, no matter who sees me at any given point in my life, let it be that I give all of the honor and glory to my King. He’s the king of kings. Not me. I am but a grain of sand with an ounce of knowledge of love.
“If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.”
1. “You’re like family.”
2. “You’ll love them.”
3. “They’ll love you. They’ll be like, ‘Oh Bree! You are so beautiful!’”
4. “You’re always welcome here.”
All of this just this week, even. I don’t mind this being permanent if God wills it to happen, ha. It does not scare me one bit. I feel very much appreciated and welcomed into a family I have known for such a short amount of time. Mexicans, man. “Marry our son!” Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh
This doesn’t mean anything but the whole college baseball team holla’d as I strutted by in my leopard print pants. Felt like a woman. Y’know? Sometimes you gotta be bold.
The Nerve Of Some
Have you ever met a group of scientists that don’t know what E=mc^2 means? No.
Have you ever met a group of mathematicians that don’t know the value of pi? No.
Have you ever met a group of professional construction workers that don’t know how to use a power tool? No.
Have you ever met a group of “musicians” that don’t know how to read music? YUP.
MY QUESTION: WHY IS IT THAT SOME “ARTISTS” THINK THEY CAN GET AWAY WITH CLAIMING TO BE MUSICIANS WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING HOW TO READ MUSIC?!?!?!
A class with a prerequisite of knowing how to read graphic notation for sheet music, having past choral ensemble experience, you would ASSUME would attract people who know how to read music with choral experience, correct? This is not the case at Sacramento City College. I told the prof there is no way that I am going to be needlessly frustrated for an entire semester. Today, it took 2 hours to get the class of around 30 people to sing 4 MEASURES of music. SERIOUSLY. F.O.U.R. MEASURES. NO JOKE. THE EASIEST CHORAL PIECE EVER. That’s what I get for signing up for classes that require group efforts and teamwork. I always end up leading, and I’m done being the leader for every dang harmony and section and group that I am a part of. Don’t you read and make sure you understand the requirements of the class you’re enrolling in?!?! I DO! I literally dropped it because of other people!
Jamming In A Forest With Mr. Wrong
Went into the scenic area of Folsom Lake to my friend’s grandmother’s mansion and played her two gorgeous grands that were slightly out of tune, but nothing short of amazing. I can’t even begin to explain to you how beautiful her house was. It was perfect. Yes, just think of perfection. The friend surprised me at how great he was at drums and guitar.. AND singing. Naturally, my heart did funny things.
This is my literal thought process: “Oh boy. Of course. Adorable kid photos. Rich. Very, very talented. Shy. Nerdy. Slightly humorous. Indie (White. As if it matters, I don’t usually dig them). Hipster. Nice eyes. Glasses. Curly hair. Rich. Not a man of God, though. So, he’s definitely not what I’m looking for.”
Laugh out loud. Seriously? Seriously. The boy lives in Utah and has seen me 3 times in 2 years. Walked me to the door, told me he liked me. I panicked and ran into my house.
Follow up messages I received go something like and are actually identical to:
“Believe it or not, you’re restoring my faith in society. Even if we never become best friends, lovers, or band mates, I’ll gladly accept having you in any part of my life.”
Get me out of here. I’m not even… like…… wh…. Just stop. The end.