I'm Not Impressed By Your Seagull Business.

This weekend was filled with a lot of meet and greets of distant(very distant) relatives. The usual "What's your deal" inquiries, but a bit more formal, these were some classy broads. It started off with some pleasant small talk about the weather, of course, and how it is -11 degrees in the midwest and how it is practically flip-flop weather in the middle of winter in California. After the amazement of the ironic weather died down we dove into more of the personal questions about what we all do with our lives. A once feathery conversation had just turned into that stupid seagull that decided to fly into the engine of a United Airways plane causing it to crash into the Hudson river. Luckily, we all made it out alive (for the most part.) As being the youngest in the room, and fresh-faced, all curiosity flew around me. Everybody else in the room knew each other so all questions were on me. I started to feel a bit nervous and couldn't stop the constant tapping of my ring onto my glass of water. The nice people asked me about school and everything that goes along with that, employment/unemployment, what's with the haircut, and some other random things that they just had to know. Like, "What's the deal with text messaging?" After all the talk about todays youth, it started getting late so the conversation came to a close.

So, this evening me and my mother decided to go out to eat because there is never any food in our house and neither of us cook. We're too modern for that. We reflected about the weekend and talked about how wonderful and charming all of the people were that we met and the things that we talked about. Then I started thinking about how weird I felt answering their questions because I felt that I wasn't really backing up my answers, and I kind of felt that I was lying them. All that talk I was throwing at them about school and stuff wasn't really anything that I'm actually doing, but it was more of me telling them about the stuff I WANT to be doing. So I guess there was some truth to it, but still, I felt weird. Then, while I was in the middle of twirling my fettucinne around my fork getting ready to go in for the kill, I realized something. I realized that maybe things are the way they are because I choose to make excuses for myself to not do some things that I want to do, and maybe that I just don't try hard enough. I mean seriously, I could be doing way more with my time if I actually tried. I'm not going to deny the fact that I am a bit lazy, but there is no reason for me to deny myself the things that I want most in life. Sometimes when I really want something I ALWAYS find a reason why I can't have it. I don't know why I do it, but I just do. "WHY!" I ask, "WHY!"

Time to get out of my bed of excuses. It's just that I'm way to comfortable to get out of it.