As Promised...Holes in My Teeth

I've been living a pretty quiet life lately...some might even call it boring. Not that I mind since I've always been a rather low key person. It doesn't take very much to keep me entertained or make me happy for that matter. I laugh easily and loudly. Lately, I've found that the best way to cope with a hard day or anxiety is to DANCE IT OUT in my apartment while my roommate laughs at my ridiculous means of decompressing (I've been trying to recruit her into my DANCE IT OUT @ the end of a rough day club, I think its finally beginning to work)...I learned this from Grey's Anatomy and decided I'd try it myself one day. Needless to say, it's worked miracles in my life. And while I feel like I've been this way forever, it's the holes in my teeth that remind me otherwise.

I had my foot stuck in some nameless rabbit hole for quite some time. My adolescent years were defined by an overwhelming drive for perfection which consequently lead to me finding what seemed to be at the time, such a well-fitting secure rabbit hole. And once I stepped, I was stuck...really stuck. At times, I found myself thinking there had to be some way out of that nameless rabbit hole, that even though I had made a choice to step in, the opening had not disappeared. Nevertheless, I remained stuck.

I spent just about my entire early adulthood staring at this bend in the road. The one that I just passed but couldn't get far enough to stop thinking about going back to. At times, I asked myself why I would even consider walking back towards that hell...just for a visit? And I always wanted to wallow at the bend for just a moment longer while I started off at a different path, the one I really wanted to take. The process went something like this: Maybe, I can walk it unti it circles back this place where I get to choose again. Maybe I can let go for just a moment more without caring. Maybe I can keep trying even if it mean I'll die trying. In hindsight, I see that even in all the "Maybe's" there was a hand that didn't let go of me. It never let go even though I thought it had because I never fell so far that I missed the last bend in the road--the one that had fought so hard and promised to bring me home...

It's been a while. My foot is out of that rabbit hole and has healed completely. I'm quite far from the bend, so far that I often forget what it felt like to have stared at it everyday. And I've come to graciously accept the hardest truth that I was never going to be the person I had always imagined myself to be. Even still, I feel shiny, happy, and new. And in those moment when I forget just how hard and painful the fight was to take my foot out of that rabbit hole, I have the holes in my teeth to remind me of where I got the strength and courage to do it.

Battle of Blog vs. (_____)

In the past 4 mos, I've had the persistent thought to start blogging more regularly. Not necessarily for the sake of my nonexistent following of faithful committed readers, but rather for the sake of allowing me to explore the thoughts underneath the hustle and bustle of what has become my life these days. So every week for the past 4 mos, there's been a range of battles: battle of blog vs. hustle, battle of blog vs. bustle, battle of blog vs. dissertation writing, battle of blog vs. Glee/Gossip Girl/Grey's Anatomy/How I Met Your Mother/CSI: NY/Friday Night Lights, battle of blog vs. sleeping, and of course battle of blog vs. googling phrases to answer questions I've had throughout my life such as "name of large ugly black long-beaked Kenyan bird" or "existing dwarf communities in California" or "commitment-phobic penguins", oh and of course "kangaroo mating techniques" (Note: the last two were inspired by my most recent trip to the SF Academy of Science). Alas, blog finally wins in the battle between blog vs. internship application essays.

To be honest, that's not entirely true. Deep down, I actually think blogging will help me write better essays. You see, I'm a bit of perfectionist when I write essays in that I never write the whole thing all at once, but rather spend an infinite amount of time making each sentence absolutely 'perfect' before moving onto the next. Kind of like how I just went back and reframed, reworded, and reread that last sentence five times...and how I just looked up the spelling on reframe, reword, and reread to ensure that there is no hyphen after the re.

Anyways...I'm supposed to be using this blog to answer the following question:

Please provide an autobiographical statement. There is no "correct" format for this question. Answer this question as if someone had asked you "tell me something about yourself." This is your opportunity to provide the internship site with some information about yourself. (Note: there are 3 other questions covering research interests, diversity, and theoretical orientation, but I'm going to pretend for now that they don't really exist)

To try and answer this question, I think I'll start by writing about how I have holes in my teeth...which will be the title of tomorrow's entry as there was just a battle between blog vs. cleaning room/project GLO-Get Life in Order and unfortunately the latter has won. Stay tuned non-existent loyal readers for next time's entry entitled "Holes in My Teeth".