To be a Little Fish in a Giant Ocean

Some days, I just can't help but doubt myself. Walking around a campus overflowing with leaders, brimming with undeniable genius, and enough confidence to send a rocket to Mars, it's impossible to not feel inferior.

How did I get here? I'd like to think I'm a leader, but compared to my peers, I'm just another regular girl looking for a place in this world. And, how does a girl go from the top of her class, straight A kind of student, to one who is almost brought to tears in the middle of an economics test and praying for a C-? It hurts to be that girl who can't remember the last time she walked out of a test and felt confident. It hurts to go into a classroom or a problem set knowing that it will be another struggle and with what kind of results? I used to think that "the best I can be" was good enough. But when I'm not passing classes and not getting interviews, it's clearly not good and certainly not good enough.

The problem is, I don't know how to be good enough and I don't know what it is that is going to change so that I am good enough. It's disheartening to say the least. I work my butt off and somebody else always wins. So what is going to encourage me to keep going? It's so hard to keep trying again, to keep putting myself up for failure.

I wish I could say that I just know something will work out, but maybe I just need to aim lower. But then again, to me, aiming lower is the ultimate failure. If I can't aim high, then why aim at all? After all, the world is about the biggest pond there is, and in just over 3 months, I'm going to be thrown into that pond, whether I like it or not. How am I going to survive all those sharks? It's scary and to say I need to be brave to do it, is the understatement of the century. It's going to take a lot more than bravery.

So what is it going to take and how am I going to find it?

East Chicago, Indiana

Last Friday brought me back to my European life of traveling on the weekends and seeking adventure at every turn, only in the most American way possible. The people were the same, the adventure was there, and love and laughter abounded. We certainly weren't eating fondue, we weren't mesmerized by beautiful churches, and we weren't taking touristy pictures in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was a different kind of trip than the ones I took last fall, but it was none the less wonderful, hilarious, and a great get-away.

We packed up and hit the road on Friday after class. We had enough snacks to feed an army, a play list made by pros, and enough excitement to carry us through the 5 hour drive. We checked into our hotel, laughed a lot, ate a lot, and of course, gossiped about our crazy wonderful lives. We woke up at 7 to a pitch black sky and were reminded of Morocco. Did we get the time right with the time change? Why were we up before the sun? Who knew? We complained for a while but finally rallied to eat breakfast and watch a beautiful Indiana sunrise. We met some friends and saw what a tailgate really looks like before we cheered our 'Cats to victory and hit the road again.

On the way home, we played hilarious noise games, had serious girl talk, and got lost in East Chicago, Indiana. Who knew that it was one of the top 10 most dangerous cities in America? Where the crime rate is over 200% above the normal average? We certainly didn't, but could tell it was a place we didn't want to be for too long. After the GPS took us to the BP plant and a phantom Amaco, we stopped to ask for the nearest gas station. Not sure that was a place where we should have gotten out of the car, but we did, and we survived. We found the gas station and then the on ramp and then found out about the dangerous city we were just in.

Driving away, towards our beloved Chicago, it was hysterical. Of course we would do that. It's part of the adventure. Guaranteed, when we get together.

My Last First Day of School

I don't have my outfit picked out yet, (though, know that is my next task) I don't have my lunch packed in my princess lunch box, I'm not going to hug my mommy goodbye on my way out the door, and I don't have the same nerves I had when I was in kindergarten, on my way to my first, first day of school. (I'm nervous about making this year great, not so much about making friends).

I don't necessarily remember that first, first day, but it did seem to go fast. I remember sitting on my letter on the circle rug, I remember the solo I had in the third grade musical, I remember the 5th grade rose walk and playing survivor during recess. I remember the first day of middle school, the stripped shirt that I was wearing, and the way I couldn't sleep the night before. I remember my dad telling me that nerves were normal and that the next time I would have those butterflies would be the night before I left for college. He was right - go figure. I remember where I was when I heard the news on 9/11, and my first spanish class, I remember getting in trouble during gym for standing at the opposite end of the field talking to Cayla, I remember the field trip to the space center and our science dissections. I remember the slushies at lunch, Inspector Johnson, Ms. Grey's turtlenecks, and Getzel the Pretzel. I remember my first homecoming week assembly, I remember bonfires, football games, and friends. I remember dance drama, awkward boys, Chipotle lunches, and the freedom of being off campus. I remember OC lunch dates, AP US study parties, Christmas Parties at Steven's and movie nights all over the place. I remember going to Cherry Knolls park and knocking myself out, I remember crushes, butterflies, and excitement.

In my 16 years of schooling so far, I've had some pretty amazing times. I wouldn't trade them for the world and I will cling to those memories forever. As I begin, this last year of my school years chapter, I'm determined to make this year the best yet. I'm determined to put aside the job worrying and wondering, I'm determined to put aside the reservations, (to a certain extent) I'm determined to be a confident, assertive, and true to myself. It's going to take courage, strength, and determination, but here goes nothing!

Obsessive much?

So, clearly I'm pretty concerned about the whole Colorado/Chicago question.... I'll try to mix it up. Until those job offers start rolling in anyway... (fingers, toes, arms, legs, body crossed)

The car's packed, the GPS is programed, the snacks are ready, and tomorrow morning we're off on our cross country adventure! Wish us luck and pray for me to be brave this year! :)

The Pit in my Stomach

It's back.

Guess that means school is really starting again. And I'm a senior..... ummmm WHAT? HOW? WHEN? CRAZY.

Every time I go back to school, I get this pit in my stomach. I'd like to say that it's a mixture of nerves, excitement, all things wonderful... but it's really not. As much as I really do love school and as much as Northwestern couldn't be more perfect for me, I am ALWAYS sad to leave home. It never seems like I was home for long enough and it never gets any easier to say goodbye. This time in particular, it's tough.

I've gotten closer to my family this summer. We've always been a tight bunch, but this summer we had a lot of fun together too. I'm not ready to leave that. And as silly as it is, I love my house. I'm not ready to leave that either. As I embark on this final year of my undergraduate career, all kinds of questions and thoughts are swimming in my head. Who knows what will happen this year? Who know where I'll end up? Part of me wants so badly to come home. But just as big of a part of me wants so badly to spread my wings. To stay in Chicago. To try something new. Who knows? Anyway, it's sad to think that while this will always be my HOME, I may never get to come home to this house every day ever again. In fact, if all goes according to plan, I hope I don't. I need to spread my wings. I need to be a grown up. And whether I spread them as far as downtown or to another state, I need to do it.

While it stresses me out to not know, it's kind of exciting too. It's exciting to have options and it's exciting to know that my life will be wonderful, adventurous, and full, whether I'm in Chicago, Colorado, Boston, or Timbucktu.

So as I get ready to drive across the country to my other life, I'm going to focus on the excitement in my stomach instead of the dreaded change. I'm going to focus on making my senior year the best yet, and I'm going to focus on leaving the "rest of my life" up to fate. I'm going to try not to worry about whether I want to come home again or spread my wings.... Either way it will be great because as Jake told Melanie in Sweet Home Alabama, "It's ok to have roots and wings."

All Mixed Up

Today is the last day of my internship and while most interns find that to be exciting and liberating, I'm sad to see it end. It was welcoming, satisfying, and fun in a way I never expected. I could not have asked for sweeter, more fun, or welcoming co-workers and I loved waking up for work each day because I had a real purpose. I had a job to do and people who were counting on me to show up. I was making money and interacting with adults like a big kid. I had a schedule and a routine that was dependable and mature. And when I left the office, my work was done for the day. I realize that's part of the real world that won't always be a luxury, but at least I escaped that feeling that I could/should do more, read more, study more before I went to bed. And every night when I went to bed, I did so feeling accomplished. Not only had I worked hard all day, but I probably also worked out and laughed with my siblings. It was a great way to fall asleep.

As summer comes to an end, and I prepare to head back for my senior year, I'm all mixed up. Part of me is so sad to leave Denver. I love Colorado, I love living at home, I love being close to Lauren and my family, I love my little Lifetime routine. And then, part of me is excited for senior year. I'm excited for the fall and football I missed last year. I'm excited to get back to my own life. I'm excited to get back to my friends and explore Chicago again.

All of me though, is not looking forward to returning to my job as babysitter in chief of 90 sorority girls or running recruitment camp. All of me is looking forward to Janurary 11th when I will be free... Bad attitude? Ok, sorry. I'm thankful for everything being president has taught me, I'm thankful for the strength and tough skin it has given me, and it's fun to be important for a while. I'm looking forward to returning to my friends in the house.

Back to being mixed up... Part of me wants so badly to return to Denver and work at Level 3 next year. The people couldn't be nicer, it's a fun place to work, Denver is SO great, my family would love it..... it's safe. And it's comforting - I hope it's an option. The other part of me though, wants to follow my old dreams and go get a big time investment banking job in some big, cool city. Be it Chicago, Boston, DC, or Charlotte.... A new adventure might be fun. And goodness knows, I want to work in a fast paced, type A, important little investment firm and I want to be successful. I want to be the girl that my friends and Uncle Tim look at and say, wow, she really did it. And part of me wants to stay in Chicago for at least a little while longer. I've said it's my city - shouldn't I really make it mine? At least for a little while?

Part of me can't believe that it's senior year. Where did the time go? And by the way, I could use a couple more carefree and relatively irresponsible years in college. The other part of me is relieved that I've almost made it and so excited to be a part of the real, working world. Though I have to say, being "on my own" and a "real" person scares the crap out of me.

Part of me wishes I was back in Sevilla, and it literally hurts my heart that I'm not. But the other, rational part of me is looking forward to all of the adventures that are sure to come my way and knows that I had my time and it was wonderful, but now it's time to move on and just cherish the memories.

So I'm pretty mixed up. Part of me is stuck in the past, part of me is nervous, but looking forward to the future, part of me is excited, part of me is sad, part of me is scared to death. I'm on the bring of a BIG year. Whichever job I get/choose will set the stage for the rest of my life, and that's nothing short of terrifying. I've lost a lot of sleep wondering and worrying about what that job will be and debating whether I should fantasize about that job being the one in the big city (the one with the cool apartment, lots of travel, studly boyfriend, nice salary, Dugans on the weekend...) or Level 3 (the fun, real, comfortable, one with a Denver loft and mountians/family on the weekend...). I go back and forth on which one I want and have serious anxiety over which one I should dream about. But then, I realize that it's not in my hands. AT ALL. I realize that whatever is supposed to happen will and that right now, I certainly don't have to choose. I realize that whatever happens, whether it is one of those two options or something completely different, it will be wonderful and it will be the right thing for me. I know this. I tell myself this. I'm still working on totally believing this.... I really am excited for what my future holds. A nervous and maybe uneasy excited, but excited none the less.

"be where you are."

I really am trying to remember that and live by it, especially in this moment of my life. I'm trying to soak up my last year of college and just worry about today.

A lot can happen in a year....

All summer, my mom has been saying that."Well you know sweetheart, a lot can happen in a year..." Yes, a lot sure can happen in a year and thinking back to who I was a year ago, I don't think that girl would recognize me. I've traveled across Europe, I've met wonderful people, I've been through sorority hell, I've come a long way in realizing what is really important, and I've learned that life is all about the laughter.

So a year ago today, I was packing, unpacking and repacking my bags for Spain, about ready to set out on what is thus far, the greatest adventure of my life. When I got out of the car that night to hug my family and tell them I'd see them at Christmas time, I was nervous, excited, and completely oblivious. I had high expectations for Spain and my entire study abroad experience, but never in my WILDEST dreams could I have imagined what I was about to encounter. Everything about my life there was a dream. The sights, the smells, the tastes, the SOUNDS. It was incredible, literally beyond words. I learned that until then, I was blissfully ignorant of a whole big world out there. It's a world full of different languages, food, sleep schedules, customs..... it's a world of wonderfully different people and I just occupy the tiniest little bit.

I hope I never forget what it felt like to walk down Asuncion and marvel at the impeccably dressed babies, looking up at balcony's, and dodging little kids on bikes or playing soccer. I hope I never forget Mascarpone, or riding in the elevator, or how wonderful my bed felt after a full day of exploring. I hope I never forget how hot it was walking to class those first few weeks or the first time I saw the Cathedral. I hope I never forget walking out of those double doors to the excited mob of host moms or that first car ride and meal of spaghetti. I hope I never forget im-ing Kara and waiting for dinner or the sangria at O'Tapas..... I hope I never forget the feeling I had every single day in Spain.

It was the feeling of someone who is really alive. Someone who lives to experience and explore, someone who knows what a gift each day is, and someone who just can't stop smiling. It was amazing.

My life in Spain taught me a lot of things. It taught me the importance of learning new languages, cultures, and customs. It taught me the value in a slower paced lifestyle, the importance of friends and family, and that sometimes taking risks is the best way to discover something great. I could have gone back to Northwestern last fall - a place where I had friends, a routine, and assurance. But I didn't, I went to Spain knowing no one and not even knowing the language. And it changed me.

Now that students are heading over to Sevilla for this fall semester, I find myself a bit jealous. Who will stay with MY host parents? Who will discover MY favorite sandwiches at Cien Mont or MY favorite store? It's hard not to feel jealous and possessive over what can only be described as a living dream that was MY reality for a few months.

As much as I want to go back though, and as much as I want to do it again, I know it will never be the same. We will never again be that carefree or youthful. So for now, all I have are my memories, and damn they're great. I'll go back again someday, but I know it just can never be the same. And while this makes part of me so sad, the other part of me is hopeful that it was just the first of many wonderful adventures in my life.

I'm about to embark on my senior year of COLLEGE. Where did the time go? I have my whole life ahead of me and who's to say that can't be a dream too? After this summer, I'm excited to work. I'm excited to have a real purpose every day, to work with real, mature people, to be a real person. And, I'm excited for love and family and travel..... I'm excited to live.

So in the next year, I will graduate from college, hopefully find a job, start a career, and who knows what else? A lot can happen in a year....

My afternoon as a Superhero

When Mark called me last Thursday to tell me that he'd booked our skydiving adventure, my heart was pounding out of my chest and my stomach was in my throat. It was a feeling that I thought would only intensify as I neared the moment when I would throw myself out of a moving plane 18,500 feet in the air.

Leaving the house, I jokingly told Maddie that she could have my books and my shoes and that if something should happen, the three of them should take a trip to Spain in my honor.... The way up was long and it was surreal. Mark and I weren't really going to jump out of an airplane.... People didn't just do that. Did they? The colorful floating dots in the sky seemed to suggest otherwise. That's when it hit me and my palms began to sweat.

Over the next two and a half hours, Mark and I signed our lives away, forgot about our nerves as our excitement grew, watched bachelor parties, couples, old guys, and friends suit up and come back smiling from ear to ear. Each time an instructor called an eager soul, he would greet them with something hilarious like "Hey buddy, let's go throw you out of a plane." or "Hi. I'm Mike. I'm the most important man in your life now." One dude in a pink shirt, from New Zealand, was the funniest of all of them. Mark and I cracked up every time he came for someone else and both crossed our fingers hoping that he would be the one to "throw us out of the plane."

When the time came, I was the lucky one to go with Piddy and Mark went with Mike. I thought for sure the shaking hands and sweaty palms would start when I got in that airplane with the two little benches. It didn't. Piddy was just so pumped, it was hard not to be overflowing with excitement too. And on the way up, it wasn't the nerves that took my breath away, it was the view. The light hit the mountains perfectly and as we climbed to 6,000 feet and then 17,000, my only emotion was pure exhilaration. Piddy told me we would jump at about 18,500 feet and soon after he told me we'd reached 17,000, the little door opened up, Mark waddled over, and in two seconds, he vanished. I was probably the fifth one out of the plane and when it was our turn, we waddled to the door, I inched my toes over the edge and all of a sudden I was free falling at 130 miles an hour.

We were falling so fast, my stomach didn't even have time to reach my throat. And I couldn't scream either. But somehow, I could laugh and look around. What I saw was unlike anything I've ever imagined... The runways and airplanes looked so small, yet I was plummeting towards them at a frighteningly fast speed. After about a minute and at around 6,00o feet, Piddy pulled the chute and it was a jarring couple of seconds as the parachute snapped to life. The four minutes that followed were breath-taking, peaceful, crazy, fun, and wonderful. Piddy steered the parachute back and forth over the ponds and landing area and when it was time for landing, we glided right in for a perfect landing on our butts.

Skydiving was unlike anything I've ever done. It was fun, exciting, and unbelievably, not scary. I imagined shaking limbs, fighting tears, and a speeding heart rate. Instead I found myself laughing, agreeing that I was "a mother fucking bad ass," and wondering how jumping out of an airplane could happen with such nonchalance...

In one incredible afternoon, I strapped myself to a guy named Piddy, wearing a pink shirt, I flew up to 18,500 feet over the foothills, I jumped out of a double propellor plane, I free fell for 12,500 feet at 130 miles per hour, I floated softly to the ground, I became a certified badass, and for five whole minutes, I felt like a superhero.

It was "fucking awesome."

Teach For America

Teaching has always been on my to-do list, though I always thought it would be a second career - one that I would do after I had kids and tried my luck in the business world. But when Teach for America started recruiting me last spring, it got me thinking. Why not now? Well there are a few reasons, but there are also a few reasons to just go for it. It takes a really special, really strong person to go in and teach in an inner city. I'm not sure I have that strength but I do know that what those kids really need is someone to believe in them. I can do that. So, the first application deadline was today and the more I thought about it, the more I thought about a convrstation I had with my dad a few years back:

When he asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I told him I wanted to be important. He was suprised and said, "come on honey, of course you are important." I said I know, but I really want to matter. Now, there are lots of ways to matter and to be "important." Holding a high powered, high profile job would be pretty cool. But mostly, I want to make a difference. I could do this in an office, or I could do it in a classroom.....

After lots of thinking, I decided, if I'm not changing someone's life, if I'm not making a difference, then what am I doing? So I applied. And we'll see what happens. Maybe I'll be offered a position. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll still end up in an office and teaching will be my second career. Either way, I hope I can find a way to be "important."

Following is my letter of intent for my application:

A couple of years ago, my dad asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up. I said, "I want to be important." I wasn't talking about becoming a CEO or making millions of dollars, I was talking about making a profound difference in someone's life. I want my work to matter and I want those around me to feel as though they matter. I've thought about it a million times, and as far as an opportunity to make a difference, it doesn't get much better than Teach for America. I am confident that as a corps member, I could make a difference in the lives of many children by giving them a great education when they might not otherwise have that chance.

I want to be a part of this movement because I want to be a part of the empowerment. When I went to school, I had teachers who believed in me, parents who believed in me, friends who believed in me... I was blessed enough to have the support and encouragement of many to help me dream big and succeed. From the bottom of my heart, I hope that every child has someone to believe in him or her, though I know that this is not always the case. I want to join Teach for America so I can be that person who believes in a child and pushes him to believe in himself so that he can succeed. I want to be a part of this movement so that I can bring passion, confidence, and success to every child, no matter their household income or situation. I want to join Teach for America so I can make sure every child has a great education and the tools for a successful future.

Though I may not be the perfect teacher, I will be the perfect cheerleader and every day, I will do my very best to show children their full potential while giving them the education they deserve. As a corps member, I hope to improve literacy and test taking abilities, but I also hope to instill a sense of empowerment, hope, and drive in children. I believe that accomplishments in academics are important, but those are only the beginning of a bright future. As a teacher, my most profound accomplishment would be knowing my children believe in themselves and have the courage to constantly dream bigger.

To measure success as a corps member, I will evaluate my students and their academic progress with pre-tests and final tests of my own and hopefully some of the state's too. Though it is slightly more difficult to measure a child's increased belief in himself, I will do so by evaluating goals and dreams. Perhaps we will keep dream journals or I will simply ask the children throughout the year. Increased confidence, though maybe not measurable by any definite means, is definitely noticeable and I will measure my success as a corps member by the noticeably increased confidence of my students.

Rocky Mountain High

This weekend, we went to Vail with some of our closest family friends. The boys golfed, the girls hiked, and we all laughed enough to be well on our way to a solid six pack. Speaking of six packs, there was that too. :) It was a much needed weekend of relaxation, laughter, good food, and better company.

The hike that I went on though, was more wonderful than words can describe. I went with Keri, my Mom, and Maddie. It was a long drive and we got confused once or twice on the way up, but the scenery was more than worth it. The trail led us up the side of a mountain while we gazed at the sparkling lake and snowy, tree covered peaks of the mountains surrounding us. I trailed behind somewhat - taking photos in a desperate attempt to capture the beauty that engulfed all of my senses. I also trailed behind to think. And I thought about so much, it's almost frightening.

I thought about how the last time I did that hike, I was 17 and with Cayla (The photo below is from 2007). It was as beautiful then as it was on Saturday, though in a different way. Four years ago, we were chatting and giggling the whole time, wondering what was going to happen during our senior year. We wondered who would date who, where we would go to college, who would go to prom with who.... We even wrote down our prom predictions and we were pretty dead on. We had no idea, though, what our senior year would bring. It would bring us together, apart, and together again in the most steadfast and comforting way. Senior year certainly brought us our ups and downs and a whole lot of adventure, but with that, it brought a closeness that few can match.

Together, Cayla and I navigated our way through Homecoming, serious winter dance drama, a trip to Spain, dance tryouts, college decisions (and last minute switches), a diagnosis, and a lot of laughing. Through it all, she stuck by me. She helped me make the hard decisions. She held my hand and prayed for me to be brave, she didn't laugh when I was scared, and even though we've both changed so much, she still loves me, and I her just the way we did the first time we hiked to the falls at Piney Lake. And honestly, I think I love her more today than I did that day.

I have the utmost respect and appreciation for that girl. She is her own person, she does what she knows is right, and she's a wonderful friend. Every time she calls just to see how my day is, I promise myself that I will be a better friend. That I will be more like her. Every time I have a President crisis, she knows how to put it into perspective because she's traveled the same road. I wish I could find the words to say thank you for that calm that she has given me and for all the times she has gotten me through the hard things. As a president AND as a person. As a president, person, and friend, it doesn't get much better than Cayla. And this Saturday, I was overwhelmed by the memories of our first hike four years ago.

I also couldn't stop thinking about boys on that hike. Piney Lake is a popular wedding destination and it's breath taking so how could I not think about boys? I can't wait to go to the falls again and to so many others with a man that I love. Whether he's from Colorado and used to the majestic scenery or a city boy in awe, I can't wait to share that with him.

Then, thinking about the boy, got me thinking about my job and all of the big life decisions I have to make coming up. What if my job isn't in Colorado? Could I really start a life anywhere else? Would I regret not starting a life in a new, exciting place? Should I play it safe? Should I take a risk? Will I have someone to tie me to a certain city? Do I want that right now? How will I pick which offer to take? Will I even get an offer? Which career path should I choose? The safe one? The challenging one? The scary one? Teach for America? Investment Banking? Level 3? Will any of those even be options? The questions were overwhelming. How am I going to choose? And how could I ever leave this place? I don't honestly know if I can. And though, I've always thought I want to, this summer and that hike have made me realize, I'm not so sure......

That was one powerful hike.

Why are all the good ones taken?

Seriously. It's killing me.

Maybe it's my fear of a broken heart or rejection that makes me go for the ones I can't have. Maybe it's just some kind of frustrating coincidence..... Either way, it's becoming annoying.

I hope one day I can be brave enough to fall for the guy that's available. That has the ability to break my heart into pieces but doesn't. I hope I'm brave enough to let myself fall for the guy that will be brave enough to let me love him too.

To Dream or Not to Dream?

DREAM! And Dream BIG!

Last week was the annual Dugan family vacation. Possibly the most anticipated week of every year. It's the one week that ensures enough crazy stories, good food, games, photos, wine, and smiles to make your head spin. With 22 crazy people in one big house, this year was no different. There were so many great moments (and great lines by William and John) that it is hard to pick a favorite.

The moment that stands out the most though, is a conversation with Uncle Tim and Aunt Izzie. Not only are they super cool and incredibly smart, driven and successful people, they are genuinely wonderful. We were talking about peaking in life and how those who peak in High School aren't the ones to envy. William then asked if I had peaked yet, to which I proudly and (hopefully) replied no. William then asked Aunt Izzie but before she had a chance to respond, the quick witted (and crazy) Uncle Tim said "June 30th 1990, Baby!" That's their anniversary and the smirk on his face was priceless. While that was obviously a landmark day for them both, it certainly can't be considered a peak. He then said that he doesn't think he's peaked yet either.... (Let me just say, that's either a bold faced lie or his peak is a freaking plateau and he'll be king of that mountain for a long time. Either that or he's jumping from peak to peak of a very long and very very tall mountain range.)

While the verdict is still out on whether he has truly peaked or not, the lesson didn't go unnoticed. As the most successful man I know, it's humbling to see that he has no plans to slow down. He is always striving to be better, to do more, and to fulfill his dreams. And not in a greedy power hungry way either. He's constantly striving because he's constantly chasing his dreams. And when he reaches one dream's goal, he just dreams bigger. And somehow he finds a way to fulfill that dream too. It's amazing, humbling, and inspiring all at the same time.

Of all the things he said to us that night, one of the things that resonated the most was the rule of 3. Whether you are a sophomore in college trying to make it through, or the CEO of a major company, the key to success is to pick three things and really finish them, he said. He then made each of us create just 3 goals for the year and made us promise to

a. be self-starters and strong self-finishers to see those goals through. - he promised that if we could teach ourselves to be strong self-starters and finishers, we would be more successful than most in whatever it is that we want to do.

b. write those goals down - "don't just plug them into your phones or whatever crazy technology you have...."

So, with the help of him and the boys, these are my three goals for the year. Here's to being the self starter and finisher who is brave enough to dream big and always keep dreaming bigger.

1. Get good grades. A 3.5 or better!

2. Get in shape Go to the gym at least 4 times a week!

3. Get a B.O.Y. and/or a J.O.B. (the Job was his idea and the boy mine - the discrepancy allowed for a joint goal 3 even though the two aren't related)

PS the three best William lines of the week:

"Is Nana making your breakfast, William?"

"Yep, that's why we're such great euchre partners - she does the cooking and I do the winning!"

William's example of a simile:

"Bikini's are just like barbed wire. Protect the goods without destroying the view."

On Uncle Tim's ordering a new, very fast, car:

"Well I guess I'll be seeing you Saturdays and every other Wednesday."

The Gym.

Possibly two of the scariest words in the English language...... For a girl who has spent the last 21 years avoiding the gym like the plague, at least.

But recently I've discovered how fun and incredibly rewarding working out can be. "The gym", the new, beautiful Lifetime Fitness that recently opened is in fact, incredibly welcoming, exciting and FUN. Who would have guessed? I've been working out 6 days a week and LOVING IT. My work outs are hands down the best part of my day and I've had some pretty good days so that's saying something! :) Whether I go to Zumba and make a fool out of myself with my lack of rhythm, or I go to Strike, or just work on those machines, I leave unable and unwilling to wipe the smile off my face. Not only does it feel great, but those classes are fun and my body feels unlike ever before. For the first time that I can remember, I am comfortable in my own skin. I wouldn't want to parade around in a bikini anytime soon, but I'm happy with who I am and I'm proud of myself.

But going to the gym isn't just great because it makes me feel good. It's inspiring too. Going to the same classes week after week, you get to know the people there with you. I've reconnected with old acquaintances, I regularly see good friends that I might not have the time to see otherwise, and I've met some incredible, wonderful people.

My Zumba instructor for today is one who unknowingly inspires me more than I could even describe. She is beautiful, strong, a great athlete and dancer, and mostly, her smile is contagious. I thought all of this about her before I found out that she has breast cancer. She can't be more than 27, so how can she possibly be fighting that C word? And how can she be so happy and smily all the time? I don't know how she does it, but her courage is incredible. You would never even know she was battling (unless you're a pro stalker like myself) and wouldn't believe it anyway. Even in the midst of what I can only imagine to be the most trying time of her life, her smile and energy light up the room as she helps others gain self confidence and a healthy lifestyle. She is every kind of brave out there and a genuine inspiration.

Somewhere to Start

I've spent so much time messing with the format and the background of this blog, that I almost forgot to post. And since this blog is dedicated to really living, I feel like this should be some profound reflection on my life as a big girl, working 40 hours a week. It's hard! But also exhausting, exciting, terrifying, and exhilirating all at the same time. Or I could talk about how great it feels to be home. Summer break could not have come at a more perfect time and it's amazing how sweet and refreshing that mountain air really is. I could try to describe the relief I find knowing that while we may be able to head over to Bar Louie for a drink now, instead of going to the park for dizzy races, some things are just the same as they've always been. And no matter how old, how successful, or how busy we may become, some things will always be a constant in my life.

I could talk about all that but...... I'm new at this.

Let's talk about how much joy I find in the little (and really silly) things. Like the fact that Monday's are my new favorite day. What kind of working girl says that? A new, innocent, naive, one. Maybe. Mondays are my new favorites because after work, I race home to ZUMBA. And on Mondays, Paul teaches. I want him to be my new best friend. I can't remember the last time I was so excited about working out. I literally smile like a kid on Christmas morning during the entire hour. Thank goodness someone finally figured out how to make working out fun! I have about as much rythem as a giraffe, (maybe less) so I'm sure I'm quite a sight to see dancing my little heart out, but it sure is fun. And a great work out.

And to really make Mondays my favorite day, the Bachelorette is on. :) JP is so sexy, it's actually painful to watch. Where's mine? ;) And while spending 2 hours of my life watching trashy TV every week may be rotting my brain, I love that silly crap. Maybe it's just the hopeless romatic in me, but I think it's cute and I'll root for true love till the end.