Blunders Shmunders.

Warning: Written under highly emotional circumstances, and personal content is involved. If you do not do well with such material, please skip a couple paragraphs to the Dear Blog.

I'm a tactile learner; I see it as a good and a bad thing. On one hand you don't learn from the mistakes or advice of others, you have to physically and personally make the mistake yourself to learn from it. On the other hand, no one understands or feels the consequence as fully as the tactile learner. They are engrained in our soul because we not only know them, we FEEL them. Hence, why they call us "tactile".

I remember my biggest mistakes, mainly because I get a pain straight in my throat as well as my gut remembering the hurt it caused people. Just like anybody a lot of my mistakes revolve around relationships. I remember cheating on a boyfriend. I've been the person a guy has cheated with. I've jumped into a relationship too quickly and spent the next 2 years subconsciously making his life miserable. I've given too much of myself to someone I don't know enough about. I think I've covered all the biggins. Being tactile has left some of those wounds (regrets, loathing, whatever you want to call it) open even years later because I can still feel them.

Not to say I have never repeated my mistakes twice, but that throat pain is key to keeping me from making those mistakes again. I want to end my rambling with this: we will all wrong ourselves and we will all wrong others. Let the fact that we feel the pain and we know our wrong doings be enough to punish and forgive ourselves. If there is truth to that statement, then others have made my mistakes, and have made ones maybe I have not made yet. Please. Just let them go.


Dear Blog,

Dear Nose-Goes- You officially got me out of writing the introduction for my group paper.Your legitimacy is up to par with the pinky promise in my book.

Dear Spiders- I'm glad to see you've learned your lesson. The last spider I saw ran up his web into the tree and curled into a ball when he saw me. He knows I'll kill him. Or at least get my dad to.

Dear Midnight- It's been along time since I've been awake to see you. I feel like a college student again.

Dear Summer Bugs- You make the trees sound like they are full of rattle snakes. Quite creepy.

Dear Attractive Man at the coffee shop- Damn. I wore a dress. and didn't shave. Being more proactive could prove useful to me.

Dear Beer- 3rd letter in 3 weeks. But I just wanted to say you are not as good when spilled on my head. That is all.

Dear Jeans- You are fitting my waist better since training commenced, but now you get caught up on my muscular man calves. This is what the business world would call a trade off.

Dear Ex Boyfriends- If you read the initial rambling, you would know if you were the one I cheated on, so don't worry- No new surprises for you today.

Dear MacBook- When I have you out, I simply pretend like I'm actually doing something. In reality, I'm merely blogging and facebooking.

Dear Barista- I'm sorry if I scared you when I said "It's that time". I forget words like that are terrifying coming from a woman. I just meant to say that it was that time to redeem my punch card for a free drink.

LoveAlways,
Gnarleigh

Glad that's over with.

Last week was an adventure for me. I've actually had to try and recall most of my letters because I didn't have the energy to write them down. I ran a total of 16 miles, attended 5 hours of class a day, worked every day and rehearsed for 2.5 hours a day. In the mean time, I had to call the police to report someone I've seen too many times on my runs. I performed one of the most emotionally taxing string quartets to a packed house at Mead's Corner. I also scored a mediocre test grade.

Last week was special. In the non PC way. I'm glad to have it over with and have less on my mind, and move on to appreciate the small things.


Dear Blog,


Dear all ye Brits- just an obversation, but you all look like you could have a part in the lord of the rings trilogy.

Dear Women I don't know- I have officially decided I don't like it when you call me Hun.

Dear Last Week- I left some dents in the wall with my head to remember you by. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Dear Bottle-o-Beer- I gave in. And it was all I imagined- like honey on Winnie the Pooh.

Dear Shorts with built in underwear- you know I've written to you before, but now there is absolutely no sarcasm: I love that I don't have to put on my underwear separately when I wear you. I absolutely love it.

Dear Teachers, Work and NPR- do you coordinate? Because you all seem to get really negative and pessimistic at the same time. Truck on.

Dear Letter I was given but never read- you've been on my desk for 3 years, and you were the perfect reminder of self-worth. What a gift.

LoveAlways,
Gnarleigh

The Last Year

Today I start my 5th and final year of college. That's a strange thing to think about. Within this next year I will run a half marathon, turn 23, take Geology (seriously?) and ultimately leave the one consistent institution in my life- School. I've never been one to count down the days till the end of school because it was inevitable that another year would come- but this year? Soooo not the case. I'll probably be so busy I won't even be mentally present 60% of the time, but it will be a good year because it will be the last one. I will finally read and write my last chapter of school.


Dear Blog,

Dear Gatorade- apparently you are the cause of my most recent cavity. I'm afraid I must water you down from here on out.

Dear Jogger's Mase- Yeup. You work. My brothers gagging is proof.

Dear Natasha Beddingfield- You know your voice is somewhat reminiscent of little Zack Hanson.

Dear Bumble Bee- You ain't getting past the fortress that is my windshield.

Dear Late Night Crime Shows- You are further affirmation of why I never want to live alone.

Dear Sun- As a woman, I get your incessant need to be really hot. But when my earrings are hot enough to singe my neck after being outside for only 2 minutes, it's enough.

Dear New Year's Res- Given the surprise success in 2010 for working out/running, I've already started planning for 2011. Possible option? Get a realistic perspective on love and forgo romantic comedies/chick flicks.

Dear Beer- I've never craved you until I made you off limits for training. Now you look as good as honey looked on Winnie the Pooh. Or Pizza on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

LoveAlways,
Gnarleigh