Bad Jobs, Bad Boyfriends and Bad Haircuts...

How do other people survive without friends like mine?

I'm constantly aware of the near-perfect group of friends that I have, but there are times when their greatness is more prevalent than others.

I recently celebrated my 25th birthday and an engagement, and I was so very lucky to be able to celebrate with the people I love most; my fiance' and my beautiful, funny friends.

There was a moment during the evening of good food and drink and conversation when I just sat back and looked at the people that surrounded me. The handsome man beside me who has so bravely decided to love me forever, and the beautiful friends who understand what a circus I am, and love me for it anyway.

These are the friends that I call when I'm happy, when I'm sad or when I just need to laugh so hard I cry.

I am constantly amazed by their generosity, their grace, their humor and their unconditional love.

God has blessed me so wonderfully and so beautifully and I thank Him everyday for giving me people who love me even when I have mascara streaming down my face and smoke coming out of my ears.

My friends keep me sane, they keep me grounded and they keep me laughing through the good times and the bad.

I don 't have to name you all, you know who you are...and you should also know how much I love you, but in case I don't tell you enough...thank you for loving me through bad jobs, bad boyfriends and bad haircuts...I promise I'll make it up to you someday...

I light up

I've spent the better part of 24...almost 25 years searching for my lobster and there was a time in my life when I thought I'd found him. In fact, I was sure he was it...if he would just change the way he spoke to me...or if he could just be there for me when I needed him to...or if I could get him to understand how important my career is to me...or if he...well, you get the picture.

I spent 3 years trying to fit him into my plan...into God's plan...and I never understood why it wasn't working. Part of it might have been that I was doing all the relationship work on my own...but the other, bigger part was that it just wasn't right. And really, I think I knew that. In the back of my mind, I knew if I could just give up on him...on us...then God would answer my prayers and send me the man I needed...but I was stubborn...and more than a little scared. But when I finally let go, when I finally realized the man I thought was my lobster was merely an imitation, my real lobster walked through my door.

And slowly, but surely, God has shown me that I don't have to compromise. He has shown me that I can have all I ever wanted...and so much more. It's unbelievable to me to think I lived so long without the tenderness I have now. It's even more unbelievable to think I was willing to live without it forever.

My new lobster...my perfect lobster...is so much more than I could have ever dreamed I wanted or deserved. He takes care of me...he listens to me...he wants me to be happy...and I'm so very happy with him...

And he says I light up the room when I walk in...what he doesn't realize is, I light up because he's there when I walk through the door...

I call him Daddy

I'm a daddy's girl.

My entire life, I've believed that no matter what was wrong or what I needed fixed, my daddy could do it. From broken toys to broken hearts, my daddy could make anything all better again. He's never let me down. He's always been there with a smile, a word of encouragement and a hug so big and strong that I felt like nothing could ever hurt me again. He's been my life-long hero, my loudest and proudest supporter and the man I've compared every guy I ever dated to.

He was never the dad that came home from work and plopped into a chair. He did dishes, laundry, cooked dinner and always found time for me and my mom. He took care of me when I was sick...staying up with me all night when I had the chicken pox as a kid...and in college, when I had my tonsils out, he stayed with me all night and woke me up every three hours to give me my medicine...in a shot glass.

One of my very favorite memories of him is from the summer after I graduated high school. He and I took a road trip...just the two of us...to Henrietta, Oklahoma (home of Troy Aikman, if you didn't know). We were on the hunt for a few good sows...or at least a reprieve from everyday life. We stayed in a charming hotel...and by charming I mean I wouldn't walk around without socks on and I refused to drink the water. But it was one of the most amazing trips of my life.

We both knew that this was my last trip with him before I went off to chase my dreams, and I remember silently crying on the way back home because I didn't ever want to grow up and not be his little girl.

And here I am...grown up...or something like it...and I'm proud to say I'm still his little girl. I'm still stubborn and impatient and pretty sure I'm always right...all traits my mom says daddy gave me...and that makes me proud.

And I pray every night that a man like him comes into my life and wants to love me half as much as he loves my mom...and if not, then I'm happy knowing that I've already found my perfect man...I call him daddy.

I'm still Cinderella

I'm not sure how to explain how I'm feeling right now.

I'm so happy and scared and confused and sad and unsure and angry and frustrated and alone. And I'm so tired.

I'm tired of everyone elses lives just falling into place so perfectly while mine constantly looks like a train wreck. And is it my fault? What did I do to end up in a life with so many road bumps?

It was supposed to be so easy...graduate high school...graduate college...find a great job...get married...have babies...live happily ever after.

But instead, I graduated from high school...graduated from college...fell in love, but it fell apart...4 times...got a job that I didn't hate, but didn't love...and I'm well on my way to being a professional wedding planner...where did I go wrong?

Granted, things are looking up in my professional life, but just when that gets all worked out, everything falls apart.

I'm tired of coming home alone every night.

I'm tired of being the lonely girl.

And yes, readers, I know...I have so much to be thankful for. I have great family and super friends. But at night...when it gets quiet...I'm still alone.

And everyone else has their fairy tale ending and I'm still Cinderella.

I'll think about that tomorrow

"You can't ride two horses with one ass, Sugarbean." ~Sweet Home Alabama~

I'm not sure when it happened, or why it happened for that matter, but at some moment in the last two months...my life became a movie...cue the lights...roll the credits...Whitney's riding two horses with one ass and it's a helluva show...

And I'm the star.

And I'm not Bridget Jones enough to find a fine British gent to rescue me.

And I'm not Elle Woods enough to bluff my way out of it.

And I'm not Cinderella enough to believe that Prince Charming is the guy holding the glass slipper.

Nope.

Not me.

I'm more of the Scarlett O'Hara character...I'll think about all this drama surrounding me tomorrow...never you mind that Tara's about to burst into flames and I've buried 2 husbands, 2 parents and my only child and my sweet Rhett is running out the door. No, no...I'll think about it tomorrow.

But tomorrow's closing in on me and I still don't have a solution. And really, I'm no closer to a solution than I was yesterday...or the day before yesterday.

I'm just as confused and scared and unsure as I was when I saddled up those two horses. And my ass is getting sore. And I gotta pick a horse to finish the race with. And I gotta do it quick.

But I'll think about that tomorrow.

What else could a girl ever need?

I know I've said it before, but I think I need to say it again.

I'm the luckiest girl in the world. God saw something so special in me that He decided to give me to two of the most kind, loving, funny and smart people in the world. I'm not sure what I did, or what I'll ever do, to deserve to be their daughter, but I'm sure glad I did it.

My parents have loved me and supported me through everything I've ever done. From pigtails to pig shows, they were always there for me. My own personal cheering section. They had hugs and smiles for a job done well, and they shared tears and disappointment when things didn't end up the way I'd hoped they would.

They've always trusted my judgement, and they've molded me into the strong woman I am today. But they've also always made sure I knew that if I needed a soft place to fall, their arms were always open to me.

I've never felt like I couldn't talk to them about something, though many times I do keep things to myself. It's not because I don't trust them, it's simply part of my personality. Really, it's a testament to them and how they've raised me to be so independent.

But there are times when I don't know what to do. When I'm faced with a situation so confusing and scary and unknown that all I want is my mommy. And she's always there. Day or night. She's just a phone call away and she's there for me when I just want to talk. She gives me her special pep-talk and helps me laugh the tears away.

And then she hands the phone to Daddy.

And Daddy always makes me laugh. He always has a calm, level-headed perspective and he always tells me that I'm his little girl and that he'll always love me.

And really, what else could a girl ever need?

I pray

I sit here with tears streaming down my face.

I stumbled upon some of the MySpace pages of the victims of the VT shooting.

Written on those pages are comments from friends and family. Many are dated sometime on the day of the shooting. Frantic requests that their loved ones call them and let them know that they're okay. Their friends and families had no way of knowing that their son or daughter or best friend was already gone.

The more recent comments are words of love and thankfulness and sadness, and I can't help but wonder, what kind of life am I living?

Am I living the life that I want to be remembered for?

Am I being the person God wants me to be?

Would my friends and family be able to say the same things about me?

I have so many questions, which is really nothing new for me...but my heart is hurting.

I ache for the families and friends and classmates of the victims, and I pray for them daily.

But I pray for me, too.

I pray for my friends. I pray for my family. I pray for strength. I pray for guidance. I pray for vision. I pray for grace...

I pray.

And I cried

I will never leave you, nor forsake you
Hebrews 13: 5


I sit here listening as officials attempt to explain what happened yesterday on the campus of Virginia Tech. Their words are meant to comfort those who are reeling from the tragic events of yesterday. They are trying to explain their actions; they are trying to justify the steps that they took.

And I sit here and wonder.

I can't help but think of the families of the victims and wonder what they hear when these officials speak. I wonder if these explanations sound empty and cold. There is nothing that a police chief or a president of a university or a secretary of state can say that will allow a mother to hold her child again. That will bring a father home to his children. That will ease the pain of this tremendous loss.

I imgaine that the only comfort these families will eventually find, is comfort in their faith. Faith that tells them their loved one is in the arms of God and that they no longer feel pain. Faith that opens their hearts to healing. Faith that allows tears to fall, with the knowledge that one day it will get better. Faith that God never forsakes us, never leaves us and always has His hand on our hearts.

Yesterday was a bad day for me. I sort of lost myself in the minor tragedies of my own life, but as I was saying my prayers last night, I realized how much I had to be thankful for. I knew that the families of those killed yesterday would give anything to have the minor problems I sulked about all day, instead of the ones of funeral arrangements and burial plots. And I felt a little stupid. And I felt a little selfish. And I felt a lot sad.

And I cried.

Talk amongst yourselves...

Is he still The One if he wins by process of elimination?

That is all...talk amongst yourselves...post some messages below...and we'll see how it shakes out....

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

"Don't fear the future, God's already there."

I sincerely wish I'd been the one to write those words, but I wasn't.

Instead, I'm one of the lucky ones that got to read them. And now, so are you.

Those words speak so loudly to me.

I'm in a place in my life where the future is so unpredictable and it scares me and excites me at the same time. I don't know where I'm headed, when I'll get there or who will be there with me. And soon, I'll have to make big decisions that will have a huge impact on my future, and that scares me. I don't feel like I'm qualified to make those decisions, but I don't want anyone else making them for me, either.

So once again, you find me lost and confused and emotional and scared.

My life reads like a shampoo bottle: Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

I'm stuck in an endless cycle of confusion and unpredictable emotions. And I know that I shouldn't be concerned about what might happen in 10 minutes...or hours...or months...or even years. I shouldn't be frightened of the unknown, because whatever happens, wherever I go, God will be there.

He's hanging out there with an iced cold Dr. Pepper and a smile, and He's ready to lead me into the next unpredictable chapter of my life.

So here I go again.( I can hear you all singing...don't pretend you're not )

I don't want to be plastic, I want to be loved

From "Gift From The Sea" by Anne Morrow Lindbergh

When you love someone, you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity - in freedom, in the sense that the dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern.

I won't love him all the time in exactly the same way. Sometimes he'll drive me beyond crazy. Sometimes I'll want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he sees things my way. Sometimes I'll look at him and wonder what planet he dropped in from.

And sometimes, I'll hold his hand and look up at him and can't believe that he's mine.

And sometimes, he'll surprise me with his sheer, honest sweetness, and he'll just takes my breath away.

And sometimes, he'll be the only person who can make it better.

The thing is, even though I feel this way...and recognize the way things are, I can't help but yearn for complete perfection. But reading the excerpt above made me realize something; it made me happy to be in the middle of an ebbing and flowing relationship instead of one that's cookie-cutter perfection.

I don't want to be in a relationship where it's all perfect, because where's the reality in that? I don't want a Barbie and Ken relationship...I don't want to be plastic, I want to be loved. I want to laugh together when I make lumpy gravy or he accidentally hits his thumb with a hammer. I want to be able to have a heated discussion and walk away knowing that even though our tempers got out of control, our love is just as strong as ever.

So the importance isn't that you have a perfect love 100% of the time...It's just important to be loved...

One hell of a hot butterfly

The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them. ~Thomas Merton

I've said it before, there's a certain amount of change that we must endure in order to be in a healthy relationship...the key word here is healthy, because I believe that in a good, beautiful relationship the change that takes place is very much like the metamorphosis a caterpillar experiences as she becomes a butterfly.

The caterpillar begins as a creepy, crawly, icky little thing and becomes a beautiful, graceful, fluttering piece of art. That's how it should be in a relationship. You should be more by being loved by someone...more beautiful...more giving...more happy...just more.

But the change that takes place should be a change of nature, not of force. The other person shouldn't dictate the specifics of the change, they shouldn't force you to become someone else, because you will only become someone you don't know...someone you probably don't want to be...someone who will crumble if the relationship fails.

I've changed...in so many ways, I've changed. I'll be the first to admit that some of the changes I made were forced...I changed because of perception, not reality. But I learned, and I fixed it, and I became who I am today, and who I am is a strong, beautiful woman; I don't depend on anyone for my happiness, and I'm happier because of it.

It took me a long time to sort through everything that's happened with him, because quite frankly, there's a hell of a lot of stuff to sort through...but I crawled through it as a caterpillar and emerged as a butterfly...and I'm one hell of a hot butterfly.