Yeah. It's THAT time.

May two thousand ten will be here in three short days. Three days until I begin the most eventful, stressful, change-filled month of my life. For the past seventeen years I have been a student. Every. Single. Day. After May 3rd, everything I learn will be for pleasure. For pure enjoyment and the betterment of my life. Yes, that is very exciting. But what other events make this next month the most anticipated and feared month of my life to date?

I am finishing my degree. What a feat. I will be Heather Anne Byrd, B.A. HAHA! What a sight to see! I will be a certified badass. Yep, I earned that title for sure.

I am moving to a new apartment. For the first time in my life, my rent, utilities, food, and gas will all be paid for with money that I earned.

I am beginning a job. Yes, thankfully I will have a job to pay all of those bills with. I will be a working, bill-paying "adult." I'll never be an adult, but I'm good with responsibilities. I guess that's the qualification.

Those are all mostly good things with only a few cons. The most feared part of the month is still ahead.

On May 24th I will be turning 22 years old. My whole life I have seen this number and believed that this is the age when other adults--people with jobs, bills, children, spouses, mortgages, etc--finally begin accepting a person as one of their own. By 22 most of us have graduated college, moved out of their parent's house (for good), and accepted a job of some kind. Younger me thought those were all the qualifications necessary to be inducted into the Adult Club. (A club, I must say, I don't really want to be inducted into.) However, with 22 just around the corner, I have changed my mind. I think this number is 30. I hate to do that, because 30 is the dreaded number of anyone in their 20s. And, honestly, what's worse than turning thirty AND being told you're not a certified adult. But 25 is too close for me to put the bar there. Maybe 27? Maybe 72? I like 72. :)

Finally, the worst of the month will be upon me after my birthday. The move. No, not my move. I'm rather looking forward moving into my new place and making it homey... and maybe a tad girly. *gasp*
No, the move I am dreading most is the en mass move of all my closest friends:

Kelley Ann Moore. My best friend, roommate, confidant, and fellow SVU-watcher is moving to Washington DC to begin the next stage of her life of service as a math teacher. I can't even talk about how much I'm going to miss her. She is truly irreplaceable.

Billy Graham. My longest-standing guy friend to date. He should get an award for simply putting up with me for the past three years. No one else lasted that long. He has had a true impact on my life in many respects. Most valuable to me, he has pushed me to become a better, more compassionate person. He's not sat me down and talked to me about how I don't love people enough--nothing like that. He's just loved. He's really a compassionate guy. Don't tell him I told you, though. He might get mad. I think it's supposed to be a secret. Anyway, Billy is moving back from Hong Kong and over to Atlanta. Sure, it's not far. But he's moving into adult-hood much faster than I am. So even though Atlanta is just an hour and a half away, Billy will be farther because he'll be busy like real adults. Poor guy.

John Otwell. I've only known John about a year or so. And, really, we've just been good friends for a few months. But in those few months we have had some fantastic conversations. We enjoy challenging each other's thoughts on important--and no-so-important--life topics. And we enjoy being challenged by each other. He is moving to Indiana to care for and love on people up there for a year. I can't really get mad at him for doing something awesome like that. I'm just mad that he's moving. Punk.

Well, I feel better now that I've said all that.

Somewhat Topical

Disaster's in the air.

New Relevant Bumper Sticker

Things change.

Friends leave.

And life doesn't stop for anybody.



I would like life to stop for a while. I would like for my friends to stop leaving. I would like to be able to handle changes without the fear that I'm living in right now. I'd like just one more constant, please.

Define Selfish

Why is it that the thought of disappointing or displeasing my friend has me twisted up in a knot, but it's so easy for me to do something I know is displeasing to My Savior. Not everything, sure, but if I want something bad enough then I can justify my desire even when I know God doesn't want it. Right now, I want to do something, but I know that doing it will be potentially displeasing, disappointing or even just annoying to my friend and that, alone, has me not even wanting it. As though the thought of disappointing this person gives me a discomfort that overpowers my original desire.

Does that make me selfless or an idolator?

What Do You Expect?

When I was sixteen-years-old, I had my life planned out. I was going to go to college, find a nice boy, date him for a couple of years, get engaged, then get married right after graduation. I actually know a few people who did/are doing this. Cute. I expected that to be me, too. By the end of my sophomore year in college, I hadn't had a serious boyfriend in over a year. I was certainly looking, but "nothing panned out," as they say. At this point, I began to wonder if my expectations were reaching a bit, so I began to change them. "I'll meet someone soon, and we'll get married a bit later, or not date as long, but it'll be almost like I thought." Then, the end of junior year: "Well I'm certainly not going to meet and marry someone in a year." My expectations changed, but I thought for sure I'd meet someone before I graduated. Now, I hope I don't.

When I was eighteen-years-old, I was beginning college as an undeclared math major. I had the next three, yes three, years of my life planned. I would hurry through college, taking as many hours as I could and finish my BS in Math before my twenty first birthday. We even bought the one year membership of the SAA instead of the 4 year because I expected to graduate in three years, and I was dead-set on that. A year and a half later I'm pursuing a AB in Film on the opposite side of campus, hoping Mr. Right spends his time on north, rather than south, campus. Now, four years later, I'm about to graduate; and I'm thankful I left math when I did.

When I was around twelve-years-old when I was first encouraged to do martial arts by my parents. Sure, I was a tom-boy, but I wasn't a BOY. That was a boy thing, and I was NOT interested. Freshman year in college my friend Mason and I pursued the idea for about a week--they were offering classes in Ramsey--but the thought of wearing that silly white uniform? I expected that I would look ridiculous, and feel even more ridiculous than I looked. When Billy first started talking to me about self-defense classes, I chuckled at his efforts. It was at the same place he did his karate and jiu jitsu (which, back then, I spelled differently every time). But it was cute, in a "your hands are shaking" kind of way, that he asked. And each time he asked the thought seemed more and more absurd. But it was August 2008 and there I was in the American Black Belt Academy at some open house he somehow conned me into going to. It was worth it, I got to see a girl flip him over her shoulder and onto the ground. I counted it as a win, I suppose. What I never expected that a year after that, I would be training in that same room--and loving it! Craving it, even. Now, I'm only a few months away from a green belt and wear a red uniform because I'm a member of the Black Belt Club.

In November when Billy first mentioned that he might be going to Hong Kong this semester, I was thrilled for him! What an exciting experience. I was, actually, quite jealous. Honestly, after two solid years of friendship, I never expected that I would miss him even a little bit. In January, when he got there, I missed him a lot. I suppose you really don't realize how close you've gotten with someone until they're not longer bugging you all the time. When we first started joking about me going over there for spring break, I never expected--not for a second--that it would happen. But, of course, I did. And I'm so glad I went. There is no doubt that the experience was worth so much more than the money I spent. It was truly life-changing. Now, I'd give anything to be back there. Well, I'd at least give a couple thousand dollars.

I never expected to have "bad cartilage" and arthritis in my joints at twenty-years-old, to be single and loving it at twenty-one, to go to three different countries in one year, to want to move to another country (asap), that I would actually consider not ever being a mother, that I would be good at animation, that I would *gasp* enjoy shopping.

I have expected so many things in my life and, not once, have my plans played out exactly as I expected them to.

The point? Stop expecting. Hope. Dream. Desire. But don't expect.

Memories

My favorite thing about traveling is the memories. There are so many things about my trip to Hong Kong that I could never tell you. Why? Because no language comes with words that are capable of describing the memories I have. The wind, the scents, the sounds, the life. A camera can capture what was there, but not what I saw. Not what I experienced. There is no snapshot of my feelings, my thoughts, my experiences. That's what's beautiful about life. It can only be experienced. So, why am I sitting on this couch contemplating a nap when I could be outside in the sun, walking around, listening to a good book, and experiencing this beautiful life I was given? Not for long, I'm about to get up and do just that: live life.

That being said, I would give $1000 to be back at the top of Lamma Island. To spend another 10 days in Hong Kong. To do it all over again. Gah! I really wish I could go back... The memories are great, but they're not enough.

If I Can't Get Quality Time, Could You At Least Send Some Words Of Affirmation?

It's nearly April. Graduation is becoming more of a reality than a landmark and more of a stressor than a relief. Occasionally the Vitamin C song "Graduation" comes on my iPod and it gets me reflecting on the last eight years of my life. Cliche: it feels like just yesterday.

But I'm not here to talk about the past. Well, actually I am. One day, today will be the past. Tomorrow, today will be the past, so, in essence, I suppose we're always talking about the past. Anyway.

Right now sucks. I have a lot going on and need nothing more than a few comforting words and some quality time. So, since we're all absurdly busy being wrapped up in our own commitments (myself included), is there any chance I could get a "hello" or a short phone call once in a while? I really need it these days.

For more information on the words "Quality Time" and "Words of Affirmation" go to www.fivelovelanguages.com

I prefer this quiz for finding out what your love languages are: http://www.afo.net/hftw-lovetest.asp

Thanks.