I Had a VERY Emotional Experience

If anyone's disappointed that I didn't write last night, don't be. I'm not. I feel like it happened for a reason. Like I fell asleep before I remembered I had a responsibility because something amazing was going to happen the next day. It's like God knew. What I'm about to tell you is fresh. I'm still crying about it, although not sobbing as I was thirty minutes ago.

When I came into work, I was not feeling one hundred percent. I was hormonal, PMS-y, and angry. I wanted to curl up into a ball and wallow rather than work my butt off all night. While I was sweeping the dining room upon my arrival, the restaurant's phone rang. I didn't even try to sound happy. "Thank you for calling Little City Grill. This is Cayla. How may I help you?" Not chirpy. Not sweet. It was slow and monotonous as if to say, "Please hand up and never call back" to whoever was on the other line. I felt bad when it was my mom on the phone.

"Hey, Cayla, it's your mom." She told me she was going to send a woman to my job to eat, and to get her whatever she needed and foot the bill. She said she'd pay me back later. I was sure it was someone homeless or malnourished, and when ten minutes passed, I was afraid this woman was dead on the side of the road.

When she finally got into the restaurant, she was terrified. If she was so afraid, I wonder what possessed her to trust my mom to come to my job in the first place. She was carrying a forty-four ounce cup of water that my mother bought her, and she was unsure of what to do when she came through the door. I sat her down and gave her a menu. She told me she couldn't read, and asked me if I'd read it to her.

I had already cried when I got off the phone with my mom, and I was trying not to when I was taking her order. She kept asking if we had mashed potatoes, and I knew she was hungry. (I mean really hungry.) I told her our chicken fried steak was good and got her two orders of mashed potatoes. By then, my heart was broken.

She told me that she had been walking four days and nights, trying to get to Austin. She said she was in a bad relationship and her ex beat her and left her for dead. She said that a nice couple picked her up and drove her here from the next town over and gave her five dollars (the same five dollars my mom told her not to spend at the convenience store before she sent the woman to me). She said all she wanted was to get a job in Austin and start her life again.

She ate, she was so polite and nice, and she didn't ask me for anything. I kept waiting on her anyway. I kept trying not to cry in front of customers, but I couldn't control the tearflow and had to go to the employee bathroom to get my emotions under control.

My coworker and good friend, Dylan, called the police and EMS. I was so upset with him. I didn't want this sweet 47 year old woman to go to jail for being homeless. She never asked for anything, and hadn't done anything wrong as far as I had seen. A beat later, the dining room was swarming with officers of the law and medical proffesionals. I was overwhelmed.

So, of course, I called my mom. She left her job to come see me and she took me outside and told me that it was okay. She hugged me and let me stain her work-shirt with tears. She patted my head and rocked me back and forth and kept saying "Oh, it's alright, baby. Hey, it's going to be okay." I wish I could have held it together, but my mom certainly helped me from falling completely apart.

The woman kept saying to my mom and me, "Are they going to take me to jail?" It's a funny thing when a seventeen year old encounters a situation like this. The woman was not mentally sound. She was paranoid. I have never in my life met a person like this. I didn't start crying again, much to my surprise. I took a deep breath and reassured her. What I said was true. They wanted her off of the streets and they wanted to help. I asked the officers if they could notify me of her well being when thing turned out for her. I wanted to see the ending, and I prayed for the best.

The officer said he found her mother and would even drive the woman to her mother's house if it meant she'd be off of the streets. When he told her this, she said she didn't want help. She said not to bother her family. At that point, my mom made me leave.

Well, I just called our police department, and they told me she left. That because she refused help, there was nothing they could do. I cried some more.

While we were there, everyone in this tiny Christian town said "God brought her to Thrall for a reason." Truthfully, after learning she refused help, I wonder what that reason is.

Life is a tearful mystery.
Cayla xx

This just in, the police officer from the Grill followed the woman and got a call from her niece. Apparently, she has a brain tumor and she missed an appointment to get it drained. She started wandering and wasn't in her right frame of mind because of the pressure. She's spending the night at Seaton, and tomorrow, her family is getting to take her home. The police officer stopped by my mom's job because he saw me crying and he wanted to follow through. That meant so much to me. I'd lost hope for her and had a hell of a day and just when I felt more like wallowing, I'd gotten great news. The officer thanked me and said that keeping the woman at the restaurant and Dylan calling the police probably saved this woman's life.

I still feel really good. Now I get why God put this woman in my life. To show me my own compassion and to help someone. To impact my life in such a way I'll never forget.

This was a crazy, emotionally draining day.

Peace out, homedog.

I Cried Tears of Joy Today

Hey, guys! I see that some of us are back for another sarcastic, well worded teenagery blog post. May I just say, "Thank you"? Anyone who reads this rocks. Anyone who reads it regularly has my gratitude.

So, tonight, I'm not going to write about boys or potheads or deep philosophical things. Tonight, I'm going to wing it, which isn't saying much, considering I always do.

Today, I woke up on the wrong side of bed. I even felt Moody walking to the store and getting my coffee. I was being that outwardly mean, hide-inside-of-my-shell Cayla that I try so hard not to be. In art today, I actually asked one of my friends "If you're embarrassed that we're immature, why do you even sit with us?" I didn't have a filter, and as soon as I thought it, I said it. As soon as I said it, I regretted it. I apologized and told her I didn't mean it and that I was being pissy. Luckily, she understood. (I don't have very many moments like this, but to be my friend, you can't take it too personally when I do.) I even told an athlete in Government yesterday that high school was going to be his "glory years" and I felt terrible about that immediately as well. (Thumbs down gesture) I've got to watch what I say or I'll push all of my classmates away again this year. Can't have that, now can we?

Today, when I was working, I got a wonderful surprise. I saw my ex-coworker's son and daughter playing on the porch of the restaurant, and I was instantly ecstatic. Stacy was back. Stacy and I waitressed together when I first got my job, and she was the one who trained me. I was glad to learn that she was about as fun-loving as I am, and we instantly became friends. Unfortunately, when the summer started, she moved to Dallas and I hadn't heard much from her at the time.

Today, I saw Mariah and Isaac and literally walked out of the dining room, into the parking lot and started hugging Stacy and crying. I have missed her so much since she left. All I ever talk about at work is what Stacy and I used to do, or how much fun she and I had. When I pulled away from the hug, I laughed because she was crying too. She chuckled, wiped her eyes and said "Man, Cay. You've got me crying too." I knew Stacy missed me a bunch, and I'm getting to hang out with her and the kids tomorrow before I work. (Is it weird that she's twenty-eight? No, not really. This is me, guys.)

I'm completely looking forward to being able to hang out with a great friend of mine. I'm looking forward to my classes tomorrow. I'm looking forward to my morning coffee and smiling a lot and making my friends laugh. Today was a great day, despite my negative attitude this morning. But I guess we have to accentuate the positive, or how would we survive?

This one made me smile the entire time I typed it,
Cayla xx

P.S. A customer saw my Texas State University T-shirt and thought I graduated last year. I said "If I graduated last year, I would have been one of the few that didn't go to UMHB (University of Mary Hardin-Baylor)." He looked at me and said "Oh, I know who you're taking about." OKAY, I can't have a crush on a guy without the whole town knowing, even if I crush quietly. Sad, yes? Not as sad as when I asked him if there was anyone that didn't know and he replied "No, not really."

P.P.S. I actually talked politics with a customer, so when he "checked-in" on Facebook, he said that he's glad he can have intellectual conversations in addition to good food. You're welcome, sir. Just doing my job.

P.P.P.S. I have to wake up super early, so goodnight. Hope you all enjoyed.

Set Your Goals Acoustics, Lunch Tables, and Crack Coffee: The First Day Of Senior Year

Guys. First off, I just spent about an hour downloading Paramore acoustics that I didn't know existed. I even managed to find one by Set Your Goals, and I know I'm gonna love it. They just can't make bad songs.

On another note, today was the first day of my last year in high school. It's early on to say this, but it's pretty bittersweet. I'm excited to be graduating, but skipping town is going to be hard to do. I feel like a lot of us felt that way today. I do, however, think today set the tone for my year, and it's going to be a good one.

When I got to school, I got there with a cup of coffee, like I always do. Much to my surprise, Mrs. Strnad (I gave up my off period for her yearbook) told me I had to drink it before I got into the classroom. (I used to drink coffee in yearbook all the time last year.) Anyway, I ended up finishing the coffee in three painful gulps, and got an instant stomachache and the shakes. ("I know what Cayla did this summer!" Crack. Get it? Crack? Because I was shaking? Okay, nevermind.) I got into the class and saw Eli, one of my best friends. I hadn't seen him all summer and I'd forgotten how much I missed him. We sat next to each other, and I spent the whole time cracking jokes and making him laugh. I couldn't help but think "It's good to be back" during the entire duration of the class.

I met my new history teacher, and he's super laid back. He was calm the entire class, and spent the first day talking about himself and getting to know us a bit. I found out he's an Aries (it wouldn't be a day if it didn't involve astrology.) He was a cool dude, and I'm pretty sure I won't have any trouble with him or his class. (Not to say I'm over Coach Fowler leaving right before my senior year, because I'm not. I wish she was teaching me again this year. Also, isn't it funny how one Aries teacher is replaced by another Aries. Yeah, he'll fit in nicely.)

Pre-AP Pre-Calculus was difficult, just as I thought it would be, and Mr. Van Gendht tried to teach us on the first day, just as I thought he would. He actually said he was retiring this winter, and I was disappointed. His classes have been the greatest academic obstacle in my high school career, but I'll definitely miss my adorable, elderly Dutch math teacher.

And then there was Mr. George. Ahhhh, Mr. George. He is my new Anatomy and Physiology instructor. Dude, this guy is serious about some science (and not in the fun way like Coach Holland or Mr. Burgard). He actually typed up our entire year's vocabulary, and mapped out the entire school year's lesson plan (with start and finish dates) to give to us today. He told us we'd have to study super hard to pass, and we'd have to spend two to three hours a week outside of his class studying or else we wouldn't do well. It's almost like college, and I'm thankful for the preparation. BUT, I do have a small case of senioritis, and a part of me wants to blow him off. I know I won't, because I want to do well this year, but I can't help but think this class would be enjoyable if Mr. Burgard were teaching it.

At lunch, we sat at our table from last year, and half of my friends said they wanted to move. At my school, seniors generally sit closer to the stage, and we're sitting pretty far away from it again this year. The other seniors assumed their positions, and some of my friends wanted to tag along. Half of us wanted to stay. (Okay, what's the point of following a tradition if it makes me uncomfortable? I want to sit with my friends, not with all of my classmates. I don't know a lot of them, and I don't see myself getting to know too many of them. I was comfortable in my spot today.) It actually became an argument. It's not a huge deal to me, so we all said we'd try to sit there tomorrow. It's times like these that I don't enjoy having extremely social friends.

And, finally, I got out of school and hung out a bit with Eli. We had a talk with our classmate, Garrett, and I realized today that I completely misjudged him. He's actually a cool dude and I hope we can be friends this year. Eli and I had a good talk, and I missed hanging out with him all over again. It's a great thing I have such great friends and good people in my life. I'm thankful.

It's gonna be a good year for all of us. It's going to be what we make it, and I don't plan to mess it up. Cayla xx

I Accidentally Ranted. Oops.

*Christina Grimmie voice* Hey guys!

So, I decided, that with school starting and such, I can't blog as often. I have been contemplating whether or not to blog every other night, and I think that's what I'm going to end up doing. (Because school starts the day after tomorrow.) I alwaysalwaysalways ask myself "What should I blog about tonight?" Truthfully, my life isn't super interesting, and I'm just good at talking it up. Plus, I'm sure no one wants to read about me sweeping at work, or the different editions of the same thoughts time and time again. So, I think this will also make for better reading material.

Tonight, I can tell you a little bit about my day. (I hope this all makes sense in the end.) Well, like we all knew we would, I talked to that pothead boy and came to find out some interesting things. (Stop shaking your head.) He's nineteen, (he's got pretty blue eyes, shh), he has a bunch of pointless tattoos (an idea that I disagree with strongly), and he's actually been to the penitentiary. (Yeah, you all may shake your heads now. Truthfully, I want to know how I even come across these people in the first place, or why God even thinks it necessary to put them in my path.)
Aside from that, he is a total and complete wangster. Oh, you're not privy to the lingo? It means "white-gangster."

The thing about this kid? I can tell he wasn't raised to be how he is. His younger brother is completely respectful and kind. The "proper" comes out in his voice all the time. He even LOOKS like a down-home country boy under all of those tattoos and baggy clothes. He started college. He went to trade school. He has field-specific certifications. So, why? Why would you want to throw away the chance at having a successful career and a family for a few funny stories and some wild times when you're young? Maybe that's why I'm such a square. (I definitely think for the future.) So what about when tomorrow finally does come and you realize you were never married and your house isn't a home, and every day is a struggle? What happens when you realize you aren't where you want to be because you were too busy "being young"?

I'm seventeen. I'm a kid. I don't party, do drugs, go anywhere I'm not supposed to, or lie to my mother, but I guarantee you I have loads of fun and I'm happy at the end of every day. If I can do that now, I think I'd make an extraordinary adult (and maybe a strict mother). It isn't hard.

I just don't get it. Why throw the remainder of your life away?

This was more of a rant than anything else,
Cayla xx

I Have The Worst Track Record EVER.

So, tonight while I was mopping at work, I had a thought. I was thinking about this guy I met the other night. (Well, I don't even think I "met" him. I didn't get his name and he didn't get mine. We were just hanging out with a mutual friend.) While I was hanging out at the convenience store, I assessed this guy. Tall, skinny, white, put thought into matching his clothes, looks like he does drugs (and I was right about that), twentysomething years old.  I thought (and I don't like thinking it), this guy has absolutely nothing going for him and a year ago, I'd have been flirting with him at this point. The fact of the matter is, I have a terrible track record for liking this kind of guy (stop cringing, it's rude). Another fact is, after assessing this young man, I automatically thought "No. There's nothing to like here. There's nothing good for me here." And then I smiled internally, because I've changed so much in the past year.

Last June, there was the Douche, my best friend. I had the hugest, most cliche crush on this guy and there wasn't much special about him. He was completely rude to me, reduced my self esteem tremendously, and was a crappy person to my little brother (which is not ever acceptable. Family first). But I was willing to overlook all of this because "he's so awesome." He was cute (and looking back, I disagree with fifteen year old Cayla) and skated and played guitar, and shallow me was smitten. It took me a year to realize he was no good for me and had nothing to offer in the role I wanted him to fill in my life.

Then, there was the Player, soon after. He dated multiple girls at once and his catchphrase was "Can I touch it?" (No, stop laughing. I'm serious. He said that regularly.) I remember being completely infatuated with a guy that cared nothing for women, and that was probably why I liked him in the first place. (Bad boys, right?) My emotions changed quickly when I came to find he actually DID like me. I learned not to jump so quickly into saying I like someone (given that I'm never sure how I feel). Took me two months.

Then there was the Skater. (Ahh, the Skater. A recurring character in this blog. A familiar face on Gemini With The Green Eyes.) Tall, skinny, white, pothead (if I had a nickel for every white boy that smokes weed and suddenly thinks he's a rapper...), skater, southern as all get out. He was adventurous, spontaneous (I'm a sucker for spontaneity), hilarious, and just great. Except for that whole pothead thing. (Truthfully, the plant came before everything with him. As far as I could see.) Well, I was head over heels in like (what does that even mean?) with this boy, and then he stopped talking to me to pursue a girl in college. (You have my full permission to cringe now.)  It took me ten months to realize there was nothing positive for me there. (I know that's a while, but we all learn sooner or later.)

And then, when all hope was lost, there was The Knight In Shining Armor. (Let's call him that.) Tall and thin, just like those before him, but different. He had ambition. He had goals to reach, and I saw him reach tons of them. He wasn't afraid to work, which is different than all of the other guys I mentioned. He was a gentleman. He called me "ma'am" in daily conversation (the few that I had the pleasure of partaking in with him), and held open the door for me when I ambushed him into a conversation with me on the way to lunch one day (poor guy, I know.) He was never rude to me outright, and never said no to talking to me (or dancing with me at prom). I asked him the most random questions at the worst of times, and he didn't question me or tell me to leave him alone. How long did it take me to get over this one? I haven't. I don't fangirl over him or blush at his name anymore, but he is guaranteed to have a lasting impressing on me.

Truthfully, before the Knight, I had no idea that teenage gentleman existed. I had no idea that boys called girls "ma'am" in a non-joking manner, and that actually meant a lot to me. Having a crush on the Knight was extremely unlikely, but I'm glad I did. Because of this year, I know a little bit more about what I want in a future spouse. Ambition. Motivation. Kindness. Proper manners. These things that the Douche, the Skater, and the Player lacked, things that my thoughts superficial compensated for. It turns out they aren't just fantasy things you only see in Disney princes. These things exist, even in young men, and that gives me more hope for my future ventures in love. They helped me to raise my standards. Having a crush at sixteen years old helped me to change my outlook on romance and love in general. It's pretty wild, huh? *insert cheesy Cayla smile*

Well, that's basically how I magically improved my track record. That Knight In Shining Armor is my golden star, and I'm ridiculously proud of liking him because of those who came before.

Did you like this one? I felt pretty teenagery writing this.
Cayla xx

A Smaller Goal For Senior Year

So, guys. Today, I left my house with the intention of hanging out at my best friend, Jenni's house. We were going to veg out, watch Supernatural, and show each other new songs. The usual. Before we stopped by her house, we made one quick pitstop to the school to fix my schedule (I ended up having to give up my first off period so I could do yearbook. You're welcome, Mrs. Strnad). While we were sitting in the counselor's office, the home ec teacher stopped in and asked us to help her daughter organize the kitchen in her classroom and we accepted (I was guilted into it.) And so it began.

I spent a long while going through spices to make sure they were still good and accidentally dyeing my hands with leaky red food coloring. The other girls moved tables and stored dishes into cabinets. (We even rolled around on the dolleys a bit.) It was good to be able to see Sarah and Grace (I've missed them a bunch in the last few weeks) and catch up a little bit before the stresses of senior year started up. (Whoop whoop, I'm gonna be a senior!) We all hung out and organized for a bit, and then one of my classmates, Wyatt, comes into the room and asks us if we can help him change out the letters on the marquee.

Okay, let me share something that anyone from down south knows. You do NOT want to be out in the sun during any of the summer months in Texas. We're actually just now getting back below 100°F during the day. Working to get the letters onto that sign was hard work, and we all went back inside sweaty and gross. Much to my relief, Wyatt was super cool and kept us laughing by saying things like "Guys. The reason these jeans are so tight is because I've had them since I was like, thirteen" and his comments about how ghetto it was that we had to use upside down fives as twos so we could finish the sign. (He was even so nice as to thank us a thousand times for coming out to help him and making his job a little easier.)

Truthfully, my favorite part of the day was hanging up those letters in the ungodly heat with Jenni, Sarah, and Wyatt.  Wyatt and I have never been close friends or really even acknowledged one another until the last few months of school last year. I have always had a really hard time coming out of my shell, but once I found my niche in high school (even though it is a little more silent and standoffish than I'd like), I found that Wyatt accepted me anyway. He doesn't mind talking to me even though I'm not like his other friends, and that actually means a whole heck of a lot to me.

So this year, I'm going to be more outgoing. Not to say that I don't already talk to people, or have friends, or that I'm not myself at school, but maybe I'll find a few more cool kids like Wyatt and Sarah and Jenni. Kids that can see past what most teenagers can't, and can see what a gem of a person you may be. I want to leave this one horse town on a good note. Besides, it's my senior year, and I may as well go out with a bang. *insert Smiley face*

Was this one too teenagery? I am in high school.
Cayla xx

Here I Go With The Love Stuff Again

I start entirely too many sentences and conversations with the phrase "So I was thinking and I realized...." I suppose that just means I'm a thinker, but it just jumped out at me today.

Okay, so. I was thinking today and I realized I ALWAYS like someone. Always. It could be the simplest, most shallow attraction, or a completely head over heels situation, but I always have an object of affections. I think part of that may have to do with the fact that I've never had a boyfriend (this is the part where you spit take whatever you happen to be drinking at the moment) or it could be that I like to have a special someone to think about. (I mean, I am a girl.)

I'm going to share something with you all. I have this vision in my head of future me living in a classy suburban house, coming home from work. When I look over, I see my future husband sitting there, still dressed from work. I walk over and sit down next to him and tell him about the kids at school that day (I'm planning to be a teacher) and later, I make dinner and talk to him and we wash dishes together. I'm sure you think that's cheesy or you think "Wow, dishes. That's romantic." But this is just how I see my happy future.

So when I'm attracted to a guy and I'm intrigued enough to observe him,  I take this person and plop him right down into the middle of my daydream. What would it be like coming home to this person every night? Could you work together to reach a common goal? Would he be supportive? Does he have the drive it takes to reach the life he wants? All of this from seventeen year old me.

I am always asked the question, "Why don't you ever date anyone?" It isn't because no one is interested. It isn't because I'm shy. It's not as if no one has ever asked me. Here's why. I haven't really found anyone worth it yet. Sure, I fangirl about some new guy all the time. Sometimes, I even get pretty caught up on these guys, but when it comes down to what I want in entirety, no one I've met has made the cut.

I've said it a thousand times and I'll say it again. Never settle for less than what you want. I don't plan on doing that, and it would break my heart to see anyone I know do it either. Even if you have to hold out (like I have with dating. And believe me, it gets lonely), what you get in the end will be well worth the wait. It has to be, doesn't it?

The romance doctor/philosopher,
Cayla xx

I'm Not One Of Those Crazy Girls (?)

So, I was thinking today, I'm glad I have the opportunity to write every day. I'm glad that, usually, I say something relevant at least once a night. I guess that means I'm still sane. BUT, I was also thinking about the fact that something's missing from my blog since I've been back. I realized, that's because I don't necessarily put real experiences into this thing anymore. I don't make it relatable anymore. I've turned this blog into more of a diary or a practice of complaint and emotional release, and that isn't fair. So let me give you some substance, eh?

Last night, I didn't get to sleep until about five this morning. I settled into my bed after a hard day of work and dozed off into a pleasantly sound sleep until my alarm scared me awake at ten thirty this morning. I found my phone, turned off the alarm, and was about to go to sleep when Facebook tells me I have a message. I "ugh"ed and looked at my phone, despite the fact that I wanted to sleep in a little more. Good thing, too.

As it turns out, there was a random message (and I do mean random) that Skater Boy's ex-girlfriend left me, calling me names that shouldn't be repeated and insinuating things that completely contradict my personality. The gist?

"We broke up and he won't leave me alone. Can you just do me a favor and get him to stop telling me he loves me? I don't like you at all, but if it has to be you, then so be it. He told me he feels absolutely nothing for you, but with a few minor changes to your personality, I'm sure you could have him again."

(And of course that was paraphrased, proofread, and censored tremendously.) I laid in bed and blinked, confused. I shook my head and read it again. This time my feelings were hurt. Where was the anger coming from? I haven't had anything to say to Crazy Girl or Skater Boy for a long while, and we all parted on good terms. Why was this still following me? I read it again and was perplexed, once again. It's too early for this, I thought. I called my best friend, Jennifer (Hey there, Jenni!), read her the message, and then left for her house. I responded to Crazy Girl in the most polite way possible, not wanting to fuel the fire any. I told her that I was disappointed in her feelings toward me and that I still liked her as a person. I told her the best way to handle it was to tell Skater Boy how she feels. I figured her anger was misguided, and I smiled at the fact that I handled myself so well. She saw my message and didn't respond. "It's over," I thought.

Thought.

She responded seven hours later with some unintelligible angry message. Truthfully, I got a little ugly. I said things that shouldn't have been said, but they weren't insinuations about this girl. The rude things I said were true (which makes it worse, I suppose). And, because I'd been nice so far (this is the third time she's flipped her lid on me randomly), I stood my ground (maybe a little too much) and I don't regret it at all.

The lesson here, you ask, dear reader?

Well, I truthfully kind of forgot about the Skater and the entire situation. I guess that's what happens with time. I'm moving on. But, moving on doesn't constitute forgetting about where you've been. To forget is to dig a hole and then fall back into it. These people keep coming back up, and I guess the third time around I should acknowledge the fact that I may not be done with the situation. Moving on from this may not be in God's plan or the "big picture." I suppose you've got to keep an open mind.

I also learned, from the Crazy Girl, that my blog is a bit of a "publicized diary." And I'm perfectly fine with that. I never use names when I write, and I enjoy the writing I do. I have my own little audience, and they enjoy it as well. Because of today (and my guilt), I almost stopped blogging altogether. Another lesson? You can't let a little anger and bitterness from others keep you down. You have got to do what you love. Never ever ever stop.

Alrighty, well, I'm getting cheesy and motivational. That's my cue to go.

I feel good about this one,
Cayla xx

It Should Be About Us, It Should Be About Trust

Holaaaa, blog readers. While I was mopping at work today, I was singing You Ain't Woman Enough To Take My Man (classic) and I had a thought. There really aren't crazy girlfriends anymore (welllll, sort of). I remember a point time when, if a a girl was cheated on, she'd slash her boyfriend's tires and burn his things and stand outside his house screaming (a little too descriptive, Cayla). We used to take matters into our own hands, and not just "let the chips fall where they may." You just don't see that anymore. (Isn't that a good thing?) Well, hell to the no, it isn't.

I've noticed girls are completely complacent in relationships now. We're comfortable lowering our standards considerably, and then letting the guy we're into lower them as well. If a guy cheats, we're  quick to make up excuses.

"It was a one time thing."

"We were going through a tough time."

Excuse me while I gag.

It's so much easier to push the logical thoughts deep down and make excuses I
instead. People commend the ladies that go back to that guy. "Oh, she's so strong. Such a trooper." It's my honest opinion that the women who think "I deserve better" and take that first step toward moving on are the strong ones. They overcame their own emotional block and are moving to make their next relationship a good one.

If I learned one thing from my mother, it's that "you shouldn't settle, Cayla Jo." Ever. In love, in work, in life. You always always (always) go for your vision of the best. I think that's what my generation (and women in general) are missing. It's a wonder we still function. 

All else aside, ladies. Have respect for yourself. Stand up for you. And if necessary, kick their asses into shape. (But not literally, dear God.)

Was this one too preachy?
Cayla xx

This Is Basically A Novel, But If You Read It, I'll Love You

Hey, guys! Let me just say: if you're still here, if you're still reading this, then I appreciate what you're doing. It will never cease to amaze me that some people actually care about the things I think. I know it's pretty redundant that I keep saying this, but it means more to me than you can imagine.

So, fun fact about Cayla Clack. I love dreaming. Like I mentioned before, I'm a huge fan of finding the deeper meaning in everything, including in my dreams. I love hunting for every little drop of depth I can in my subconscious, but it's a tad offputting when your dream is extremely point blank and realistic. I had this dream about a week and a half ago, but it's consumed my thoughts so much that I feel like I need to share it with you all. (Without using names, yet still being completely obvious somehow. It takes skill.)

I was at one of my best friend's houses (let's call her Holly. She was almost named "Juno." Shh, don't judge me.), like always, but I was fresh out of college and immersed in a new teaching job (in New Braunfels, I think). We were all four and five years older, and the dream had a more mature air about it. Holly's parents got along a lot better now that they only had her two younger sisters, Sarah and Selena, to look after. Sarah, was a little smarter, and Selena was a little less of a shit. Holly was with a guy that I actually sort of approved of, and their elder brother, Joseph, was nowhere in sight. Holly's family invited me to a family reunion, saying I was like a daughter to them and that I'd helped Holly during the darkest time of her life, and I eagerly accepted. I hadn't seen Holly or Sarah in a long while, but in the back of my mind, I really wanted to know how Joseph was doing. It had been four years since I'd seen him last, and something was telling me I really needed to. At every family reunion, families catch up on any gossip they may have missed, and at this one in particular, the hot topic was Joseph and his girlfriend. I sat down next to one of Holly's aunts and overheard her talking about how she didn't approve of Joseph's thoughts to marry his girlfriend. I thought nothing of the fact that she didn't agree with her nephew's decision. Everyone in Holly's family had a reason to dislike someone for one thing or another. I was more interested in the fact that Joseph was in a relationship long enough to even consider the possibility of marrying someone. I wanted to hear more. I listened to all of the hushed tones Holly's family was uttering around the Cauldron that Mr. Rodriguez was cooking at.

"She's so mean to him."

"He doesn't even smile anymore."

"The only time you see him happy is at work. Your girlfriend is supposed to make you happy."

"It's a shame he's only thinking about marrying her because he doesn't want to start over again."

"He's not happy. You can see it in his eyes."

One of Holly's aunts turned to me and patted me on the knee. "You're much prettier than her, mi hija." Holly's family loved me more than ever, but their only problem with me is that I didn't go after Joseph while we were still teenagers, and now they all had to watch him marry a bitter woman he wasn't in love with. I smiled at her aunt then got up to see Mr. Rodriguez by the cauldron. I didn't bother with formalities or hellos.

"Joseph is getting married?" It just fell out of my mouth. Some small part of me felt sick thinking about it. I hadn't seen or spoken to Joseph in years and I, for some reason, couldn't stand the thought if him marrying this girl.

Mr. Rodriguez stirred up whatever he was frying in the cauldron (I had my heart set on carnitas). "Yeah, he's marrying that girl I told you about a few years ago. You should have gotten with him, Cayla. That boy used to love you, girl." I suddenly felt guilty. I didn't like to think about it while I was in high school, and frankly, I didn't believe it back then. But now, every second I spent in the same room as Joseph came flooding back to memory. Every sentence exchanged, every glance shared, every joke uttered. I remembered the time I first met him in the back seat of the family's car and he randomly bought me a Gatorade (lemon-lime, my favorite). I remember the day all of us kids were standing in the Rodriguez family kitchen talking, and Joseph stared at the floor until I addressed him specifically. I remember the night we stayed up nearly until dawn and he told me things he never told anyone else. When he looked hurt that I only "used" to have a crush on him, even though he had a girlfriend at the time. All of these thoughts engulfed my mind and drownes the helpless little me that was finally understanding the truth of the situation. There was something there when I was in high school. There was something between me and Joseph. I mentally facepalmed and felt weak-kneed when I realized I couldn't change things.

I realized I'd been standing there in front of Holly's dad looking lost. I swallowed the lump in my throat and prepared to speak. "I know he did, Mr. Rodriguez, but I was just a kid back then."

He nodded at me.

"What do I do?" I asked him, knowing the answer. Nothing could be done.

"Don't give up yet," he said, stirring the pot. "We told him you were invited and I saw the look on his face, girl. I think he still likes you."

I said okay and walked away. What if I was only here because his family hated his girlfriend? This family loved me, but they loved their son more. Of course that's why I was here. The only person that hadn't arrived to the reuinion was Joseph. While I anxiously awaited his arrival, I chatted up Holly and met her boyfriend. Despite her "get married young" mentality when we were teenagers, she and her boyfriend were happily taking it veeeeery slow. I, of course, was enthused at this fact. Holly was smitten by some guy, as always, but she'd been with him for three years and finally seemed to have her head on straight. I was proud of my friend and silently thanked God for answering my prayer to give her happiness and guidance.

We were talking and laughing and it suddenly got really quiet. I didn't have to look up to know why. Little Joseph was here with his girlfriend, and they walked down the stairs, hand in hand. He hadn't aged a day. He was still wearing his Polo from work, his hair was still the same, and the same belt he used to wear when we were teenagers peeked from under his shirt. If anything, he was in better shape than before. I had to catch my breath. He and his girlfriend walked toward us, and she was gorgeous. But the closer they came, the uglier she became until she had a beard and weighed three-hundred pounds. (Hey, it's been realistic thus far. He held her hand just as well, but I think the ugliness was her personality being depicted in a more literal sense. My subconscious is more blunt than I am, anway.) As soon as he saw me, he smiled, and then a somber look took over. He looked at the ground as I walked over.

"Hey, Joseph. Long time, no see."

"Yeah," he mumbled, without looking up. He began kicking at the gravel he was standing on. I laughed awkwardly.

"Hey, Alexis. How's it going?"

She said nothing, just scowled at me and gripped Joseph's hand tighter.

"Let's go grab those two chairs over there." She spoke to him while staring me down. And with an "Okay, babe," they walked away and left me standing there.

Soon enough, the food was ready, and stories were being told and laughs were being had. I decided to eat my dinner standing by the tree, so I wouldn't have to look at Joseph and his girlfriend sitting across from me. Everyone was laughing and having a good time, and I couldn't help but feel glad I was here. Like I belonged here. I couldn't help but smile. My moment of self-reflecting was interrupted by none other than  Little Joseph himself. I looked over and Alexis was sitting alone, looking pissed off, as always.

"My family's pretty crazy, huh? I can't believe you still come around." He laughed and it was the first time I'd seen him happy since he'd arrived at the shindig earlier. I chuckled as well.

"Nah, I love your family. You know that." We just stood and looked at the joyous Rodriguez clan sitting around the fire. We were quiet. I broke that silence. (That much is a given, huh?)

"You can't marry that girl, Joe."

AND THEN MY FRIEND'S DAD STORMS INTO THE ROOM AND MAKES US ALL WAKE UP.

I know reading this has probably been like reading a novel, and you want to gnaw your arm off to ease the agony, but this dream brings me to my point. (And I'll be brief.)

I recently learned that if you feel something for someone, you should make those feelings known. The timing may be terrible, or the.circumstances may seem to be against you, but I guess that's why it's called "Falling in love." Falling isn't necessarily a good thing, but the possibility that love is waiting for you on impact makes it worth it. In my case, I'm not talking falling in love. I can be honest in saying I don't know what that's like. For me, it's the same old I-like-a-guy-and-I'm-overthinking-it-and-giving-myself-an-unrealistic-ultimatum-because-he-is-in-some-way-unattainable thing. But, hey, what's romance without a little excitement?

I hope you guys enjoy this one, Cayla xx

Back In Black, And Don't You Know I'm Glad To Be Back?

Long time, no blog, huh? I'm going to be completely honest in saying, I have missed blogging and the feedback and feeling a real connection with my readers. I'm really glad to have to opportunity to continue blogging and for people to keep reading this silly ol' thing. That being said, a lot has happened during my absence, and I'm sure I'll be very scatterbrained trying to update you all. (I'm pretty out of practice, so who knows where this bad boy will go?) Let's get this ball rolling.

During my absence, I spent a large amount of my time at one of my best friend's houses, and it truly made for an unforgettable time. I've been going to this friend's house for a year and a half, and I'd give it all back for the past week I've spent there.

Before I spent an entire week at this house, they were just my friend's family. The temperamental father, the super straight-laced mother, the player of an older brother, the ditzy middle child, and the annoying five year old. The thing is, I realized (and this one's pretty obvious, so forgive me) that the more time you spend around someone, the better you get to know them. When you spend time with someone, they become less of your impression of them and more of a character that plays a part in your life. You realize these people have depth. They have demons. They have their dreams and their plight.

I stayed up talking all night with the player of an older brother and discovered he actually wants wants to "do things right", get married, start a family, and have a son. I found out he isn't as apathetic to his family's dysfunction as I perceived. I discovered he's a real person with real emotions.

I spent the day hanging with the ditzy sister and realized she's incredibly emotionally deep and loves her older brother and daddy more than anything. I discovered all she wants is her family's happiness and a little bit of clarity. I discovered she wants someone to listen to her and provide some insight and guidance for her.

I sat and talked with the angry dad all day, and it was brought to my attention that he is doing his best to keep his life on track, keep his family affairs in order, and learn how to give his problems to God. I learned that his life made him a hard man, and that he was finally learning how to be softer and emotionally vulnerable.

The straight-laced mother is the epitome of the term "bible-thumper," and really is straight-laced. On the other hand, it's all she knows. It's how she was raised, it's what she knows is right, and it's what she wants her children to know. She wants things to be whole and right (and a little bit holy), and I really understand that.

(Let's not even bother with the five year old. She's still the annoying five year old, but she's a cutie.) For the past few weeks, this family has been all that I've thought about, and all that I've prayed for. To add to the list of realizations I've had lately, I realized that they're the object of my thoughts and prayers for one reason only. They all have a part to play in this preachy drama I like to call my life.

They've lost their roles as extras and have blown into full on, fully animated characters in my life. (Is that a metaphor?)  Whatever parts they play, I am positive it'll turn out beautifully.

Was this alright for a second "first blog post"?
Cayla xx