Stressful Thinking

Have you guys checked out the Blackberry Q10 yet? It's a beautiful thing, and I want it as opposed to the crappy Huawei Ascend I am currently in possession of. I know I probably sound bratty, whining about owning an Android that crashes every app and has terrible internal storage issues and doesn't support my music files, but we're all entitled to our own opinions. (This is relevant, just wait.)

Fact: I am not one to stress. I always take a breather and figure things out.

Fact: I have been stressing more and more lately.

All my life, money has been pretty tight. It's unfortunate sometimes, but at least I know a little bit about how to be good with money. Ever since I've gotten my job, I've paid for the things I've needed and wanted to make things a little easier for my mom. A cell phone and service, my coffee habit, and the obscene amount of hair mousse I need to tame the beast that would otherwise be an Afro atop my head. From toothpaste to school supplies, I cover most of my own needs. On waitress's pay, what's left over after needs isn't a whole lot.

Another fact? I have been worrying myself sick over budgeting the things I'll need this spring. Cap and gown. Senior yearbook. Portraits. Invitations. A graduation party. College books. A laptop. And then there are the things I need from day to day. The thing that tops my list right now (that Blackberry Q10 and a contract plan). After all of this, there's no money or time of day for any of the other things I want (like vocal lessons, or new shoes, or better headphones). I generally budget, but it's getting extreme and I have to make some crucial decisions now before I come up short when college rolls around.

Another peak in my stress today was my Anatomy homework. I'm sure the questions asked on our lab assignment were basic follow-up questions after a lab, but I couldn't answer them. I even had a hard time with the vocabulary. I thought "If I am having this hard of a time with high school Anatomy, how am I supposed to handle college courses?" What if I end up wasting my money on classes I can't pass? Truthfully, the science assignments stressed me out so much that I bought a cone of Buttered Pecan Blue Bell and closed every book I had. I just sat.

If I learned one thing today, it's that ice cream relieves stress. If I learned another thing, it's that I should listen to that little voice in my head. The little voice that is telling me not to worry. I kind of believe it.

Are these big girl problems?
Cayla xx

P.S. I couldn't post last night because Blogger wouldn't open. I wasn't neglecting anything, guys. Promise.

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