Flashbacks.

I had a conversation with my sister the other day. We talked about maturity. About how in the moment, we always think we're being mature. Then years later, we want to punch ourselves in the face, and we realize how silly we actually were. This made me think on all my past years as a silly girl. 

Before kindergarten, I remember looking out the window at my older brother and sister as they walked to the bus stop. Longing to do the same. Yearning to do whatever they were doing. If I did what they did then that meant I was cool. I remember my sister getting frustrated as I always wanted to take part in her birthday parties. She would give a dissapointed look to my mom as I sat with her and her friends, copying everything they did. But every night without fail, after Mom tucked us in and told us to go right to bed, Kinsey and I would talk ourselves to sleep. She got the top bunk, it was cooler. 

I remember Junior High. We had a schedule. And each subject had a different teacher and a different classroom. I remember going to Orientation and seeing the friends I hadn't seen for 3 months during the summer. All the boys seemed to be a little cuter than I had remembered. Embarrassed by the metal crap pulling on my gapped buck teeth and overbite, I was an awkward little twig of a teenager. 4th period was gym class. I dreaded that class like none other. The first time we had to run the mile, I found a sweet girl named Krista who possessed the same amount of hatred I had for running. We soon became best friends. 

It was time for High School. I was 16, always wishing that one of the handsome senior jocks would somehow notice the timid sophomore girl waiting to find romance. It seemed like the halls were lined with couples. I soon realized the heartbreak that can come to a dramatic teenage girl after my own involvement in the dating scene. I was convinced I would never date again, and that I would end up with 17 cats. After graduation, I couldn't wait to start my new life as an adult. Livin' the high life.

What was once juvenile thoughts of cute, popular jocks and 17 cats, has now turned into dreams of a horse camp for special needs kids, learning how to play the guitar, and getting through college. But who knows? Something might change along the way. 

If everybody else jumped off a bridge, would you?

Apparently I would. Yesterday, for a friends birthday, a group of us went up to Monkey Bridge. Once we got there, we jumped off. This later resulted in a gihuganatmous bumpy bruise, my eardrum almost bursting, and a nasty sunburn. But talk about an adrenaline rush.

When we first got there, the boys of the group jumped off one by one. I knew that if I didn't jump off the bridge soon, I never would. So when another girl from the party stood at the edge of the bridge and asked me to go with her, I did. We counted down from 3...and jumped. 

I thought I was gonna hit the water a lot faster than that...Which was the worst part. I shut my eyes and plugged my nose. I probably shouldn't have done that so soon....cause I was gasping for air when I came up.  I'm happy to say that I did it, but I need to change a few things next time. 

1. Make sure that when you jump off, your body is completely straight. Do not land any other way. You'll get a bruise.

2. Don't hold your breath until right before you go into the water. It comes later than you think. 

3. Make sure you bring sunscreen. That helps. A lot.