Everything wrong, a few things right, and it’s all wonderful.

I’m not about to fall behind on the “best of 2009″ craze – no, sir! And since this blog is (half of) all I have to show for my year (the other half is at Love Me Argentina), I figured it would be a good idea to pick out my favorite posts from this year, errm, since July.

I originally started this blog because a) I wanted attention, b) I wanted to write, c) I wanted to write about normal life things that people go through, and d) I like to look back on my own rants and think “you clever witty thing! That’s genius!”

So, for the sake of brevity and the fact that I’m supposed to be feeding my neighbor’s dogs right now (I’m a great house-sitter, let’s talk later), I only picked 5. Then again, I only have 55 confessions, so that’s almost 10%. Let’s not get picky with the decimals, it’s Christmas!

1. Confession #5: I hate showers. - This one still sort of rings true, even though I wrote it when I was still in Argentina. Since I started working out a lot more regularly (and lost 20 pounds, ahem, thank you), I figured it might be a good idea to shower at least every day. It’s not my favorite thing to do, but I’ll do it because I care about others. I was raised right, you know?

2. For myself. - This one was at a rough patch – my resources during rough patches are Jesus, my mother, and Maya Angelou. Haha. But not really haha because I really, really love Maya’s (we’re on a first name basis) poems and writing. So this poem lifted me up. I’m a cheeseball, it’s in my DNA.

3.  Confession #47: Jesus is better than homemade religion. - This one is actually not all me – it’s mostly my friend Daniel, he wrote the meat of this post and I asked him if I could publish it here. It’s good, it’s to-the-point, and I believe in it. I’m thankful that the truth became more clear to me this year. Still, I’m a work in progress.

4. I’m going to steal your haircut, and then YOUR MAN. Fear meee! – This one is slightly hilarious, honest, and it emphasizes my “journey” (if you will) with myself and my body and my self-esteem. I may not be Foxy Cleopatra, but I’m still a whole ‘lotta woman! (And I still hate skinny jeans.)

5. Confession #48: I was just kidding. – This was an exercise in pioneering (if that’s not a word then I just made it up), I went forth, brave and strong, and “took back” one of my confessions. If you read anything in hopes to find out about me, I think this is a good place to start.

- I hope you like at least one of those. It’s statistically proven that nice, good people enjoy my writing.

Merry Christmas! Tamales call my name!

Confession #55: Confessing is hard work.

I thought that finishing school would give me some magical desire to read tons of intellectual, romantic, heart-wrenching novels and then my reading skills would magically turn into writing skills and then, THEN I could present something worthy to you.

But I don’t want to read.

I don’t even really want to write, to be honest. I want to be with my family, I want to get my hands into some cooking (tamales for Christmas, y’all!), I want to make my dad laugh so I can hear his laugh come from his deep insides. I want to go to Landa Park and flap my legs on the swings like I’m 7 years old, then go to IHOP for the Rooty Tooty Fresh n’ Fruity. I want sugar. I don’t want to read.

I want James to come home so I can hug him and thank God that he’s back in one piece. Like I’ve said before, I want my best friend back. How unabashedly cheesy I can be!

I am still struggling to manage my new hair cut. My controlling personality is most evident in this. I will literally spend 10 minutes trying to get a few strands of hair in place. Narcissistic? Perhaps. Gimme a break.

I have some exciting news that might unfold soon. That might be worthy.

And something I found today that I enjoyed – from Roberta’s voice

If a guy likes my breasts, do I object? If a guy prefers my dark eyes and hair to the coloring of a blond, do I mistrust? If he likes my smile or the fact that I’m short or my speaking voice or my ass, do I judge? No. I enjoy his enjoyment of me. I don’t want him looking at me wishing I were blond, and yet somehow I am comfortable with the idea that he is looking at me wishing I were thinner than with just taking his Roberta-inspired delight in and drinking it up and bathing in it. No, apparently I need to control which part of me can turn him on, so that my self-hatred can live.

In the end, it’s not about guys. It’s about her and her enjoyment. Self-hatred aside, I like that.

Things on my heart.

As this semester draws to a close (and I perfect my procrastination skills), I have a small ache as a few things end and others are opened again.

It’s been a year full of changes, arguments, tumbling, magic, adventure, desire, longing, and frustration. I am weary in my bones for a whole year of being in new situations, starting new episodes (living in Argentina, nursing school, living with girls I had never met before- but that worked out perfectly), meeting about 1000 new people (roughly), and holding on tight to a relationship that has suffered the offenses of distance. I am weary in my bones.

The most important thing that I can think of as a closed chapter in my life is my struggle with and against my body. I hadn’t felt satisfied with myself since I was 13 years old. It has been 7 long years of ups and downs, but I am free of the eating disorder I never thought I’d shake off. I eat what I want when I’m hungry, I (usually) stop when I’m full, and I exercise because it makes me feel good. I buy clothes that fit and I think I look hot. I dance. I am free!

(I know I talk about that a lot on here, but it’s really, really amazing to me. I never thought I’d love the skin I’m in.)

A part that is opening again: James will be home soon, and I’m nervous like a girl who is going on a date for the first time. Although we’ve managed to talk (IM, text messages, phone) throughout this year, he is still a mystery to me. He’s coming back from Iraq with a year of “war” behind him, and I’m nervous to see what that’s done to him. I’m also nervous that he might not like me any more, because compared to the girl that I was on December 2nd 2008, I’d like to think I’m an upgrade! I hope he feels the same. I am excited to do some evaluations: where are we going with this? what are our plans and our intentions?

I’m scared. I’m scared to feel that I’ve wasted time or energy, but I always thought (and think) that James is worth it. We’ve definitely had our struggles, but he’s my best friend. I’m ready to have my best friend back.

I know I’ve been a little scatter-brained with this – not just this post but the blog in general has gone from “confessions about daily life things that everyone experiences” to “the minute details of Brenda’s life and how she feels about every single one of them.” I’m ready to go back to exposing less and being more general in my topics. I want people to be able to relate to the tiny little life things. I am not normal and I don’t expect people to relate to that.

Confession #54: I need a celebration.

I wanted it to be December 15th so I could say I have been keeping up with this blog for 5 months, but I’m a few weeks away so that idea just crumbled before my eyes. I also wanted it to be December 15th because a) school would be done, b) James would be back, and c) I might be working at the hospital already. And there are few things I ever keep up with for long.

I read this today on my dear friend Sarah’s blog, emergingmummy.com, and I loved it. She uses it in her post regarding Advent, and although I’m not participating, I love this section of her post.

In the midst of my life – privileged, beautiful, joyous and full of love even during bouts of The Crazy Times – I can’t forget that my trust is always in him, that I pour my heart out before him for God is my refuge.We are all like a fleeting breath but steadfast, unfailing love is only in God.

Confession #53: I am a study in extremes.

So, I’m bored and  I secretly like to read about my zodiac sign – not so much the horoscope part as much as the “this is what you’re like based on the planets in the universe” thing. I think it’s super interesting, and I know it’s sort of tacky, but can’t a girl have one guilty pleasure? Or 8 guilty pleasures, if she so wishes?

So I’ve googled my sign, virgo, for about 48 minutes now and these are all the things I chose to pick out that I think ring true. Feel free to stop reading now.

Virgos born on September 22 have a powerful personality. Although they may be drawn to scholarly pursuits, they almost always find themselves in demand to fulfill more worldly aims. They are brainy and can deflate the pomposity of others. They have a stylish, even elegant, appearance.

People born on September 22 are a study in extremes.

Some Negatives:
Can be obsessed with the idea of ‘order’. Can do and will do anything to achieve this. Known to be nagging and fault finding. Most have shy tendencies, are very introverted and self conscious. Having hypochondriac illusions.

Generally, a Virgo woman is quite active and health conscious. She is quick in actions such as talking, walking or reacting. She may have a tendency to put on excess weight. (Damn you, planets!) However, she tries to keep herself slim and trim most of the times.

That’s enough.

Confession #52: Sappy as the tree.

On Saturday, I was at Hastings and I saw a small, pink, sparkly darling thing. It was a book of love poems by Pablo Neruda. If you’ve never heard of him I suggest you get your sad un-cultured butt on google and google him. (Don’t you love that google is a noun AND a verb! Genius!)  He’s a Chilean poet and I only know that because I visited one of his homes when I was in Chile. (Just throwing that in there for bragging purposes, nothing else.)

So I fell in love with this little book but I didn’t buy it (and I was embarrassed to ask my brother to buy it because I knew he would make fun of me for wanting a book of love poems. Men! Such heartless creatures) . I actually went back to Hastings on Sunday (they open at noon) and sat on a chair (yes, a chair)  to read the whole book. I’m such a sap, but it was Sunday, gimme a break.

Anywho, this here is my favorite of the poems. Why? It reminds me of James, that dear soldier of mine.

Absence

I have scarcely left you
when you go in me, crystalline,
or trembling,
or uneasy, wounded by me
or overwhelmed with love, as when your eyes
close upon the gift of life
that without cease I give you.

My love,
we have found each other
thirsty and we have
drunk up all the water and the blood,
we found each other
hungry
and we bit each other
as fire bites,
leaving wounds in us.

But wait for me,
keep for me your sweetness.
I will give you too
a rose.

*Needless to say the original spanish version is exponentially better.

He’ll be back before my eyes can tear up.

And shout-out to Linda, because I owe her for being one of my only readers.

Confession #51: I am good people.

I’ve lost some weight since I got back from Argentina and I must admit that occasionally I look at my butt in the mirror.  There’s finally a clear definition between the end of my butt and the beginning of my thighs, and that – that is glorious. I don’t mind if you want to check it out for yourself, just try not to be so obvious. Gah.

Not sure why I had to share that, but the truth is that I’m a little into myself lately. Self-esteem high, it could be. Could be all this salsa dancing, dancing until I’m soaked with sweat and adrenaline. Could be that I’m almost done with my first semester of nursing school and I’ve settled with the fact that B’s are acceptable, they don’t make me any less of a human being. A’s are for girls who study a lot harder than I do, but they probably have less fun. At least I’d like to think that they have less fun because if they had more fun than me then that wouldn’t be fair, and we’ve all established that life is so, so fair. Ha.

So, for lack of something more entertaining to do (already saw this week’s The Office episode), I’ve decided to make a (short) list of things I like about myself. I know Nisreen’s going to make fun of me for this, I can feel it already. Lucky for her I already have a comeback cooking. She won’t see it coming unless she reads this, and she will read this because I’ll tag the crap out of her new exotic (married)  name.

Things that make me an arrogant spoiled brat (and I like it):

1. I sing really well in the car, when no one is around. I can belt out a song like Fantasia does. Not kidding.

2. I make a good breakfast taco. (But I prefer to buy them. Go figure.)

3. As stated before, I’m finally (barely) accepting my body for what it is – lean mean sassy sarcastic machine. (More mean and sarcastic and sassy than lean, but I’m working on it, don’t get picky with me.)

4. I chase my dreams with a whip, and I make them happen.

5. I’m learning French, and I think I’m really sophisticated for it.

6. I can move my body in some really promiscuous ways, but I try to keep it clean. Alls I’m saying is my hips don’t lie.

7. I have a blog, and like, 10 people read it. That makes my day sometimes.

8. I might be a cycling instructor at UT soon, depending on how my audition goes tomorrow. (I’ve taught before, it should be fine. I hope.

9. I have 3 X chromosomes and that instantly makes me cooler than you. Period.

10. I have great, great, wonderful, fantastic friends. I guess I like that they like me enough to be my friend. Aww. I just threw in a piece of cheese for y’all.

Back to reality, baby. This BSN isn’t earning itself.

PS – shout-out to Daniel my friend who started a blog.

PPS – Nisreen, I hope you laughed.

Confession #49: I’m addicted to naps (among other things).

I’ve been neglectful lately and I’ve slowly found out that a lot more people read this than I knew about. You sneaky, no-comment leaving friends of mine! I demand payment for my work, and I demand it in the form of attention. My self-esteem isn’t exactly bringing itself up. Ain’t that the truth!

Every spare moment I have, I think about sleeping. About being in my bed with my microfiber fleece blanket, about snuggling real close with my TY Baby, Precious, and about not caring when I’m going to wake up, even if it’s 3 pm.. I don’t know if it’s a real problem or just an extreme, awful, never-ending fatigue.

And then, when I wake up, and I feel like an 18-wheeler just squished me, then all the other cars around hit me, then 10 sick dogs thew up on me. Okay maybe not that bad, but I feel like I can’t snap out of nap-mode and my body is like WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON. It’s terrible. And I feel more tired than I did pre-nap. So naturally (and ever-so logically), I want to sleep more.

So if anyone has any miracle cures left over, please hit me up. I suppose I could start gulping those nasty chemical energy drinks, but that’s just wrong. I refuse to smoke, I refuse to drink (with the exception of red wine, white wine, and other fruity drinks that I only drink to be socially adequate), and I most definitely refuse to drown my body in something called MONSTER. *cringe*

On another addictive note, I’ve picked up salsa again. I have no sense of moderation. I want to go dancing every night. This may contribute to the sleeping problem, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Surely you can’t connect the dots there. Anyway, I finally met someone who can be my “partner” and we’ll probably go out dancing soon. I’m so happy I can almost ignore the throbbing pain in my feet.

And for those of you who actually keep up with my life (I’d like to know who you are), I got accepted to work at Eau Vive in France from July  to mid/late August 2010. That’s right, baby! I’m Europe-bound next summer. My old host-mom Tabitha is from Switzerland and she’s gonna hook me up so I can travel and stay with people she knows. It’s things like this that make me think I’m such a badass.

But really, I’m not. I have cramps from hell and I got no homework done today. I secretly suck at being focused, and I really, really want to go to sleep.

PS – I’m super, super annoyed with a girl on my Facebook who always posts about her workouts and how many calories she burns. I work out too, for cryin’ out loud! I almost feel like I should be eating the calories she burns. I’m judgmental and impatient, sue me.

A lot of nothing.

I am (once again) avoiding my homework. I slept in til 9:30 today and had gone to bed at 9 pm last night. That was delightful. Now it’s a new, beautiful day and I knooow I have homework to do but I have a lot of unfinished business I need to rant about.

My relationships are changing. I don’t like it because it’s uncomfortable and a lot of things are hanging on a thin, thin wire. I think in a few weeks I will be able to write more about it, but for now I’m going to shut up and keep it a mystery. Kay?

I’ve officially lost 15 pounds since getting back from Argentina. Almost unintentionally. I feel good. My shorts aren’t going up my butt crack, it’s great.

This semester is almost over and it makes me giddy. No longer a first-semester nursing student! Weee. Just one more month of go-go-go and then I can slow down at home. Yes.

Alright, this is pointless. I’m going to run errands and probably hang out at the library for a while. Tempted to buy a lot of iTunes albums.

Confession #48: I was just kidding.

GAAAHHH I’ve been wanting to write so bad lately but haven’t had time to sit here and ventilate. It feels so good to finally spill a bit (or a lot, I have no sense of moderation). It kind of feels like when you really have to pee and you end up waiting a long time and then you finally go and it’s like OOOOOH man, yes! You know what i mean, don’t lie.

I’m not promising anything good, I’m just letting my fingers go, be free, unleash the sassiness within.

A few weeks ago (or maybe days? I’ve lost track of time, especially with this daylight savings nonsense) I wrote about how I was going to be all natural and not wear makeup. Then I looked IN THE MIRROR and I was like, girl you need to stop lookin’ like the walking dead. It’s best when I’m done working out and my face is so shiny you’d think I rubbed Pledge on it. And that, dear friends, is not hot at all. It’s not even warm. It’s nasty.

So, this is a first, but I’m taking one of my confessions back. Is that okay with you? I hope so, because it’s my blog and I’m 20 and i can basically do whateva-I-want, uh huh! *snaps in yo face* SIKE.

But seriously, makeup is a lifesaver when it comes to self-esteem. And I know I was getting on the point of “I should feel beautiful even when I look like crap” but this is the 21st century, and if a girl wants to wear a little blush, then let her wear the damn blush, amirite? It’s not that big of a deal, is what I’m saying. I feel better with a little bronzer and some very merry berry lip gloss.

I apologize if I had become your icon of natural beauty. I’m anything but natural. I eat high fructose corn syrup sometimes, and I like sugar-free crap. I don’t like peeling vegetables or cutting them or making them look good on a plate. I don’t even buy vegetables (shhh!) I’m not a hippie. I shave. So there goes that dream of being wholesome (in my eating) and dainty and sophisticated. I’m just too messy for that, and that’s okay with me, for now.

I’m not worried, really, because at the end of the day, it’s all about the Dr. Pepper chapstick.