Arizona to Hawaii: talk about change

Anyone who moves to a new place experiences change. Anyone who grew up in the same place most of their life and then moves to a new place (me) likely has a pretty difficult time adjusting to those changes.

For me, the changes I experienced and underwent were for the better. Living in Hawaii gave me a whole new outlook on life, myself, my beliefs and values, the earth, the island, everything. The best thing for me, though was the changes I made as a person; for myself and my self-esteem.

Inspirational, wonderful, beautiful, mushy post. Woof!

No. (Okay it's a little mushy)

Get ready to get offended, people I grew up with. I love you all. Just remember that. 

(And this doesn't apply to the entire state of Arizona so everyone relax while I generalize)

When I was growing up I didn't consider myself stuck up. I didn't think I was up tight. I thought I was pretty laid back and carefree. And I was, to some extent. But present me vs. past me are two completely different people.

Back home in Arizona, I wouldn't be caught dead outside of my house without makeup on. I rarely went out in my pajamas. My hair was always neatly straightened or curled. It was rare I even wore a ponytail. (Okay I dressed pretty weird sometimes. I was a dancer. Other dancers understand). 

Just kidding, this was 80's Day for spirit week.

This was a typical day going to dance. Layers!!! Love 'em, miss 'em.

Anyway! Even if I was going swimming or to a water park, you better believe I was caking on the waterproof mascara. My eyelashes are outrageous, why did I need that?

When I moved to Hawaii, same rules applied. I did the only thing I knew how to do. Get ready, put makeup on, do my hair, leave the house. Going to the beach? Waterproof mascara. (Mix that with salt water and let me know how your eyeballs feel) Just woke up? Hungry? Shower and get ready, endure the pain of hunger until I'm spruced up. 

I was so worried about what everyone thought of me. I was the exact opposite of laid back and carefree. I blame Arizona. I blame Mountain Ridge High School. I blame cheerleading. But hey, I'll take some of the blame.

I don't know when I changed. I don't know when I finally let my hair down (figuratively and I suppose literally). I don't know when I stopped caring.

Stopped may be the wrong word. I definitely still care what others think of me to some degree. Don't we all? But I know I look around this island and see so many people in their pajamas. It's harder to spot a girl with makeup than a girl without it. So I joined the party.

(hehe)

At a club in Scottsdale, Az, 99% of the girls are wearing tight dresses, high heels, and a full (and I mean full) face of makeup. There are times I go to a club here in Hawaii in jeans and slippers (that's flip flops for those back home). I'll dance battle any girl that's wearing high heels. Blow me away by batting your fake eyelashes. I can shuffle better than you in my chucks.

My best friend and I show up matching when we go clubbing on Mondays.
We make it "theme night". 

This was "we are 5 years old" night. 

This was "World Cup" night. 

Below we have "we have basically the same shirt so let's wear it" night. 

#mondayfunday

We think we are hilarious. And granted there are still tons of girls here who get all done up to go out. We still wear the occasional dress and heels if we are feeling frisky. I didn't give up all aspects of being a girly girl. But I relaxed a lot.

One million percent of the time now, if I wake up and I'm hungry, I find some pants (likely some that are one the floor) (even more likely they were the ones I wore yesterday) and walk out the door. I've sat at a bar wearing a little boy's ninja turtles shirt drinking a bloody mary. I'll go anywhere without makeup on. And I don't even think it's fully because I don't care, but because when I do that, I fit in.

Back home, I had to do my hair and makeup and all those things in order to fit in. It's the norm. Humans follow norms. In Hawaii, it's the norm to wear slippers every day and cruise around with no makeup on. Regardless of which is normal. Regardless of the fact that I feel I fit in here. Fitting in, in a place like this that truly is carefree, feels so much better than fitting in where I have to make sure I look my best everywhere I go.

My self-esteem covers a lot more ground now that I can feel confident with or without mascara. I'm happier now, not worrying so much about who is staring or who is judging me based on my appearance.

I have to give a shout out to my first friend in Hawaii, Chelsea. Although we aren't friends anymore, she helped me to understand the chill aloha vibe of the islands. She's a local girl who had the privilege of growing up in Hawaii for her entire life. She taught me that there's so much more to life than getting ready every day. There are adventures to be had, beaches to be played at, sunshine to be soaked up.

Don't get me wrong, I love Arizona. I'll never be upset about where I grew up. I am who I am today because of the places I've lived and the people I know. I appreciate the snootiness of my hometown because it makes me appreciate the carefreeness of my current town more.

And one more thing. 

I'd like to point out my previously mentioned best friend, Jen. She grew up in Japan basically her entire life. (Cool, I know) She moved to the states straight out of high school and attended college in Washington. Now she is here in Hawaii. One culture to another and to another. (Props, Jen. That's not easy.) She speaks two languages fluently. Living in Hawaii she uses both frequently. I've heard her switch from English to Japanese in one sentence! (That never stops being cool to me) She's lived in the constant rain and the freezing snow, as well as the warm tropical sunshine. That's someone to look up to. I admire her so much for being so cultured and being the person she is. She teaches me so much about Japan, the culture, and even some of the language (I try but its hard) Daijobu. But also she teaches me how to live life to the fullest here on Oahu.

Where you come from, where you've been, and where you go will continue to shape who you are and who you become. I'm so happy to have found a place that is so accepting. (Ironic because there is still some racism and prejudice here).

I wish everyone could have the chance to experience life in Hawaii. That's why I've had such a hard time deciding whether or not to stay here when I graduate college in May. (I'm staying). This is my home now and I can't imagine leaving. I love myself more now than I ever have.

I mean, who would give this up?

xo, Tatum

Sorry Mom

This is a sincere apology to my mother. And I think many other girls my age will be able to relate and then apologize to their own mother.

Mom, I am you.

I notice in moments when someone is being a "me" that I have become more and more like my mother. In those moments I think to myself, wow is this how I was when I was arguing with my mom? It's so frustrating!

The answer is always yes. And wow is it irritating.

I like to think that I am always right. It's a genetic mutation all females possess, I believe. But when I am genuinely right, and someone is arguing with me to the point of me just giving up and letting them make their own mistake, I am on the verge of homicidal. Why won't they just listen to me?! They are going to regret this later. They are making a mistake and if they just trust that I have their best interest in mind, that mistake won't even happen.

Argument ensues. I give up from constantly fighting the same battle. They make mistake. Tell me I was right all along and they should have listened. I proceed to add that to the list of reasons I need to apologize to my mom. Because I was ALWAYS like that. She must have been so frustrated dealing with my teenage  drama. Only one person was right all the years I was growing up and it wasn't me.

Mom, you were right.

Now I am growing into an adult (pre-adult). I am learning to care for people in my life more deeply than I ever could as a child. When I see that they are going to make a mistake I fight so hard to help them before they do. Just like my mom did for me since the day I started making mistakes. And back then I fought back. (Okay I still do) I am stubborn and always have been. I am determined to be right and make my own decisions. I can only imagine the agony I have caused my poor sweet mother all the times I refused to give in.  I feel that agony when someone won't give in to me. It rips me apart and crushes my soul (I'm still pretty dramatic) because I know it's just karma, giving me the same shit I gave my mom all those years.

No offense to any mom out there, but us offspring generally make it our life goal to be nothing like our parents. I won't ground my kids, I won't give them curfews, I won't make them go to school on days they really don't want to. 

At age 23 I look back on my 16-year-old, probably grounded, self and just laugh. My mom was on her A-game when she was raising my sister and I. As the oldest, I'm even taking on the mother hen role already, advising my sister on how to get to age 23 without making any of the same mistakes I made. Although I do many things in life my own way, I notice when I'm telling my sister to never ditch class, or asking my roommates to please close the shower curtain (lol mom I know that's your fav) that  I have become a version of my mom without even trying.

I'm okay with it.

My mom has always put me before herself. She has always put me before anything. And all the times I put someone else before myself, I think of my mom and how inspiring she is. How I'm so grateful that I have become so similar to her. That she taught me to be a good person no matter what. Our house rule was "be nice." I used to roll my eyes when she said "what's the only rule?" because it seemed so simple, silly even. But being nice isn't always easy.

So mom, I'm sorry for being stubborn and not listening to you. I'm sorry I thought I was right when I, very clearly, was not right at all. I'm sorry for arguing.

I am you. And the "Tatums" that come into my life remind me often that I am you. Those "Tatums" are a pain in my ass sometimes. But they are usually people I love too much. They remind me to tell you once in a while that I'm sorry for being a typical teenager and that I love you no matter what.


xo,  pre-adult mom-like Tatum

An Open Letter to All Roommates

If you've ever lived with someone (or multiple people) this is for you.

And I'm not talking parents, grandparents, brothers, or sisters. I'm talking left home and moved in with friends, with a boyfriend or girlfriend, or like me, found some strangers on craigslist and moved in with them.

Dear self, Love self. (seriously none of this excludes me)

This is going to be full of what might seem like common sense. It's going to be passive aggressive at times. It's not meant to hurt feelings (as I generally do not write with intentions to hurt anyone's feelings). Trust me, if I want to hurt your feelings I will go straight to you and do so.

I don't have an overwhelming amount of experience with roommates. I'm about two and a half years deep in living with people besides my family. But in that time, I've had a grand total of 9 roommates, and every single one of them was completely different. Every single one of them (aside from 1) was a complete stranger when I moved in with them. We all come from different places; Big Island, Oahu, Arizona, California, etc. Being in Hawaii you meet a lot of people from around the world who lived and grew up completely different than you.

However, if you grew up in Glendale and moved in with friends from high school who also grew up in Glendale, this still applies to you! Keep reading.

Dear Roommate,

I'm sure you're a really good person. I'm sure you're nice. I'm sure you're really easy-going. I'm sure you're super easy to live with. I'm sure you're a good friend. I'm sure you're really clean. 

I'm a really good person. (I gossip a lot but who counts that?). I'm nice! (Oh besides when I'm PMSing. Stay away). I'm super easy-going. (Okay it drives me insane when the shower curtain is left open or when empty cups are left on the coffee table or when dirty socks get left in the kitchen). I'm so easy to live with. (Well I work at a bar and get home late sometimes. Like 4am late. And sometimes I talk too loud and forget the rest of the house is sleeping. But only sometimes). I'm a really good friend, I swear. (I do forget to call sometimes, but just know I'm thinking of you). I'm pretty clean, too. (Okay I like my living room and kitchen to be clean, but don't go in my bedroom, you can't see the floor). 

You see? I'm all of those things too. But sometimes not to the best of my ability, and I know the same goes for anyone who has ever shared an apartment, house, or bedroom. 

It's not all about you, you are not the only person in the house, your schedule is not more important than your roommate's across the hall, your sleep is not more essential, your job is not more stressful, your life is not busier, and your preferred way of living is not always the best way. It's just different.

I've been talking a lot about that lately huh? Different. Ugh. So hard to deal with anything and anyone that is different than what we are used to. Different classes, different jobs, different people.

Differences cause us to butt heads with others. I'm more guilty than anyone when it comes to snapping at my roommates. Whether it's to their face or saying it out loud to anyone who can hear me, passive-aggressie as ever, "SURE WISH THE KITCHEN LIGHT WASN'T ON WHEN NO ONE IS IN THERE!" It's just sassy and rude and unnecessary. 

On the other hand, someone left the light on and we all have to pitch in on electricity bills (and anyone who pays those knows they are hefty). We don't have AC in our house, due to the weather rarely changing here in Hawaii. My heart goes out to those who need heat in the winter and air-con in the summer. We just need fans or blankets. Anyway, it all goes back to being considerate.

Dear Roommate, (and again, dear self)

Be considerate.

Be conscious of leaving the lights on when you only pay a fourth of the bill. Your other three roommates didn't use that light you left on in the kitchen and they have to split the payment evenly anyway. Be nice when the light does get left on. A simple, "hey roommate, make sure you remember to flip the switch when you leave the room" goes over much better than "ROOMMATE CAN YOU TURN THE LIGHT OFF FOR ONCE IN YOUR USELESS LIFE?!" (I'm working on it okay?)

Be considerate of the household sleep schedules. If your roommate has to wake up for school at 7am and you get home from work at 4am, be quiet. No one, especially me, can remember 3 different people's work or school schedules. I'll never get home from a late night shift and remember that one roommate has class early the next day or another has an interview tomorrow. Solution: just be quiet every time you get home late. 

Make good habits.

Be quiet when it's late at night. Put your dishes in the sink. Close the shower curtain after you shower. No one wants to be woken up in the middle of the night. No one wants to drag your dishes out of the living room every day. No one wants a moldy shower. 

Any hey! We all screw up, we all forget things, we all are guilty. I've left my dirty socks under the kitchen table plenty of times. But making good habits as best you can is the quickest way to achieve a happy household. 

Pets. Pets are hard. They are like children except they won't poop in a toilet, which almost makes me want a toddler more than a dog at this point.

 

 We had Hoku the little bitch.

We had Genepaul the chameleon. 

(RIP) 

(JK he escaped and jumped off our 2nd story lanai and has a wife and kids now somewhere in the wild, I know it).

We had Timmy the baby bird.
I rescued him and brought him home to my roommate who is basically an animal doctor.
(RIP Timmy). 

And we had Layla the little shit.

Dogs. Chameleons. Birds. Whatever. If you have a pet, take care of it. If you want a pet, anticipate it being A LOT of work. They eat, they bark, they chew things they shouldn't, they throw up said things, they poop and pee and have accidents in the house when it's raining outside, they escape from their cages and get lost in the house. Pets are not all fun and games and cuddles.

I now know from my experience with pets (and these pets were not even all mine, just extra tenants in my house that I helped care for) that I am way too much of an immature idiot to have a pet right now. Feed self. Bathe self. Repeat. Throw a puppy in the mix and I'm in shambles.

It's one thing to sleepover at a friend's house and politely ask your roommates if they mind feeding your dog and letting him out in the morning. It's a completely different thing to leave for an entire weekend without telling anyone and hope your animals get fed while you're gone.

Be responsible.

I wanted to say "be an adult" but I haven't quite mastered that one. I'm still learning what being an adult entails. You can be pre-adult (yeah, like pre-teen but pre-adult) and still be responsible. For your pets, for yourself, for you house, for your roommates belongings when borrowing them.

If your dog eats my underwear and barfs it up, just clean it up. No argument about how busy you are or how I shouldn't have left my underwear out needed.

Be calm.

This is a big one. Getting angry, getting sassy, getting heated, getting loud, it never solves anything (dear self again). If you have a problem with your roommate(s) talk about it CALMLY like the pre-adult you are. Arguments happen, we get upset at each other here and there, it's the result of living on top of another person in the boxes they call apartments. But wow is everything a million times better when you aren't screaming over each other.

A new one I learned while living in my current house. Talk, don't text.

I'll keep this one short and sweet. Everything always gets blown out of proportion when you bring up issues through text messages. Just talk face to face and skip the 10 pages of drama. This is for all you non-confrontational roommates out there. I know it's hard, but try it.

And the list goes on and on. I could talk for days about all the things that make a good or bad roommate. It's all about learning to be considerate of others. It's a simple concept but a difficult task. I am still learning to do it myself. I've lived with people I consider to be the absolute scum of the earth and I've lived with people who were strangers turned best friends.

At the end of the day, be quiet.

Just kidding.

At the end of the day, just be nice! Be clean. Be calm. You know the drill. Just don't be an asshole roommate because literally no one likes those.

My current roommates: Miranda and Corisa

 We are the best friends ever and the biggest asshole roommates around. 

Practice what you preach,  right?

xo, Tatum

I Hope My Parents Come To My Wedding

As the years go on and generations of kids get wilder, something is becoming much more prevalent, a little more accepted, but still generally frowned upon. 

Tattoos. Tattoos. Tattoos. Tattoos.

It always starts with the ever-so-popular question, "What are you going to do when you're old?" 

Oh, I'm going to be old and wrinkly (I laid in a lot of tanning beds and spent my college years on an island, I'm going to be extra wrinkly) and I'm going to look badass. I mean I'm either going to be old and gross or old and gross with tattoos. This guy wears it well.

Here's what really gets to me though. It isn't so much the "what about when you're old?" question. It's the, "What about on your wedding day if you wear a backless dress or a strapless dress, or a dress with a slit, or a dress with no sleeves?" Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.

Well, Close-Minded Probably Mildly Religious Personal Preference Of Not Liking Tattoos Who's Opinion Probably Isn't Super Relevant To Me Person (besides my mom), I'm going to wear a wedding dress on my wedding day. I have a lot of ideas about the type of dresses I like.

These are nice.

And they have slits and are backless and missing a couple of sleeves and all the people I love who come to see me get married may be able to see some of my tattoos if I wear a dress like any of these. And I'm still going to get married, and it's still going to be the happiest day of my life, and I'm still going to be surrounded by people I love, and I'm going to have tattoos.

Why does having tattoos have to be so hindering in so many areas of life? We already have to be conscious of potential jobs and future bosses. Maybe it will be so professional an environment, visible tattoos simply won't be permitted. And that's fine. There are still a lot of paying customers on the planet who prefer to be taken care of by someone who looks "clean cut". (I have a lot of opinions on that as well but I'll leave that alone for now and get back to the point). On MY wedding day, why should I be put down by those who don't think I will be beautiful in my dress because my tattoos are showing from all angles?

These girls are GORGEOUS. They are happy. More happy than I can probably imagine since I've never experienced a feeling like knowing I'm about to spend the rest of my life with the person I love most. And they have tattoos.

How can someone look past that smile and think she isn't absolutely beautiful in that white dress?

If you ask me, I think it adds color, art, accents, and flare to the entire ensemble. A porcelain doll with contoured cheeks, a corset tied tight, flowers in her hair, and art covering her arms or back that tells stories only she truly understands.

What's better than a bride with tattoos?

A bride and groom with tattoos.

Two people who understand each other inside, and quite literally, out. A man who can look past the "I was 17 when I got this ugly dolphin on my ankle" and see the love of his life walking down the aisle toward her forever. A woman who can see beyond the "I thought I was in a gang when I was a junior in high school and got 'thug life' on my knuckles in my friend's garage" and see the man of her dreams waiting for her at the alter.

You see? It isn't about the tattoos. It isn't about the white dress or the color of the flowers or anything else aesthetic. It's about being there for someone you love, supporting their decision to enter the next chapter of their life. It's hard to think that far ahead when you see your daughter or son's new tattoo and think (or say) "but what about your wedding day?!" 

But I urge you to try.

Try to accept it.

In fact, it's a new year. Why not try to accept anything new? Whether it's people's decision to put ink on their skin or their decision to marry at age 19 or their decision to move to Hawaii or their decision to try to be an astronaut. 

As the old saying (somewhat) goes, there is SO MUCH more than meets the eye. Humans are beautiful creatures. Even the ones with full sleeves and nose rings.

Opinions. Opinions. Opinions. Opinions.

There are so many different ones. We are all entitled to our own. All should be considered and valued. But guess what. They all don't have to be agreed upon. It doesn't make anyone a bad person. It doesn't mean he loves his mom any less because he got a tattoo on his arm and she doesn't approve. It doesn't mean she loves her daughter any more because she will be tattoo-free at her wedding, just like she always hoped she would be.

It just means we are all different.

And I plan to be ecstatic on my wedding day. Tattoos and all.

xo, Tatum

Population Control?

This post might seem harsh. It's not, I promise. It's just something I've been thinking and wondering about lately.

I suppose lately my mind has been wandering in the direction of how the universe works. You know, what goes around comes around. Be good and the world will be good to you. Why can people who don't want children have babies and others who want them so badly cannot? I've been exploring (in my own mind) the way the world works, who is up there controlling how it works (if anyone) and why it works the way it does. And that brings me to my latest theory about the universe.

Population control.

There are over 7 billion humans on this earth now. More than the human race probably ever imagined would exist at one time. Did we ever think our planet could even hold this many people? Can it? Or are we just over-crowding Earth baby by baby, birth by birth, discovery after discovery of medicines and other things that elongate life.

Back in the day you were lucky to live to age 40. You got married at 15, had babies by 17, some of them lived, some of them died of dysentery or measles (Oregon Trail anyone?), you churned some butter, swept your dirt floor, died by 35 and called it a good life.

Now we are sticking 97 year olds with Alzheimer's in hospices and saying "yeah, cool humans can live for 100 years."

Woo, they don't know their own name, can't change their own underwear, don't recognize their family and we say we have improved the longevity of life? Someone please euthanize me if my husband (assuming I find one of those) pops out my dentures and feeds me mushy soup every day and I don't even know who he is. Put me out of my misery, and put that poor man out of his misery.

I do not need or want to take up space on this planet if I can't care for myself. What's the point? Make room for the 7 billion and third human. You don't even have to make a space six feet under for me. Cremate me and scatter my ashes in the Pacific. (Dear anyone who still knows me when I'm 90 ((Emily Moore)) this is an open letter to you).

So that actually brings me to my theory.

What if the Universe or God or Buddha or whoever, made some women infertile and some men sterile for a reason? Maybe humans (as well as other animals, I'm sure) are unable to have babies because if EVERYONE could have them, we really would have to just live on top of each other.

Unplanned pregnancies are at an all time high. Orphanages, group homes, and foster homes are overflowing with children of all ages who don't have a home, don't have a family, and don't have parents. If every human were able to bare children, how many more babies would be born unwanted?

Now, I don't mean to offend anyone. As most of you know, I have someone very dear to me who is in that group of women in the world who cannot have children on her own. I volunteered to help her do so, and am not, in any way, against in vitro or anything like that. How many times in life do people pay thousands of dollars for someone to help them have a baby and then say "eh, never mind I actually don't want this."

Those babies are more wanted than any other, I think. (Mom, I know I'm very wanted)

But have you ever thought about why they can't? For every woman (ok maybe for every 5 or 10 women, I didn't actually research this) who gets pregnant by mistake and gets an abortion, gives their child up for adoption, or God forbid, abandons their infant at a fire station, there is a woman who couldn't get pregnant even if she wanted to.

And maybe that is just natural population control. Maybe this is crazy and I made it up in my head and it makes no sense. However, I do still wonder. Humans are incredible creatures and we have grown and evolved into a very complex, very advanced species. How can you not wonder if we are this way for a reason? Just how newer generations are all having to get their wisdom teeth removed because our mouths are getting smaller, maybe more women and men are becoming infertile or sterile because our space on Earth is getting smaller as well.

I don't apologize for what I believe or my thoughts that are recently becoming blog posts. I truly am sorry, though, for offending anyone that may think this idea is incredibly insensitive. It's just a thought.

Cheers to those with a mind that wanders as much as mine.

xo, Tatum

A Word About Karma

Recently I've been trying my best to help my friends as much as I can. I lent one friend $200 when he had a family tragedy. I  bought my best friend a plane ticket to Hawaii when she was down in the dumps about life. I lent another $280 shortly after so he could register for his college classes. Many of you helped me raise money so my dear friend Meredith could try to get pregnant with the egg I donated to her. And most recently, another friend had her iPhone6 stolen, so I gave her my $200 verizon gift card to put towards a new phone.

Now, I'm not saying this  to get a pat on the back. I don't need anyone to tell me how nice it is that I did those things or that I'm a good person or whatever else, simply because I know. I know it was nice of me to help out my friends. That's why I did it. Because I care so much about the people I love, I want to do nice things for them and help them when they are in need. I was taught by two very awesome parents that that is the right thing to do. 

Let's face it. Money is money and there will always be more to be made. It comes and goes. It rules our lives. But what is it really? It's paper. I would give away all my money if it meant keeping those friendships alive, and making sure those friends were doing alright. 

Here's where it gets juicy. 

I have been so mad lately. Dwelling on every possible negative thing. Feeling bad for myself, thinking I do all these nice things for people and no one can ever do something nice for me in return. I question my belief that what goes around comes around. Why was I trying so hard to help others and no one would help me?

I'm talking small, stupid things like no one covering my shifts at work when I always say yes to covering others' shifts. Cleaning my whole house by myself and waking up to dishes all over the counter again.  Petty things. Clearly.

But it hit me today that I am being so ridiculous. How selfish of me to continuously think that my nice acts are going unnoticed and my friends aren't doing anything nice for me in return when I'm in need.

First of all, am I blind? And second of all, that's not how it works! Karma doesn't have a rule book that says "if you do something nice, you'll get all the things you want in life." Sometimes you don't! And that's life. I'm not going to get every shift covered that I need. My house will get messy at times, and hell, I'll probably be the one to mess it up half the time. The "comes around" part happens when it happens. And that's where I have clearly been blind.

My friends are the absolute best. My bosses are pretty awesome and always have my back. My roommates are my best friends. They are there for me ALL the time. They've been giving me rides when I'm stuck at work at 3am. Buying me dinner, getting me concert tickets to shows I absolutely can't live without seeing. (Kings of Leon and Incubus in the same month. Dead.) My boss gives me awesome shifts at work so I can make money and days off that I need and so much more. And instead of focusing on all the incredible things people do for me, I've been crying over the negative things like spoiled brat.

It's no secret that I'm fairly pessimistic. I like to look at the glass as half empty, and I do it with a smile, because that's just how I like to look at the world. But wow is that depressing. It's hard to see the beauty in life when I'm toting around my half empty glass all the time. And at age 23, I probably won't change. I'm moving quickly into my adult years and I am who I am at this point. But sometimes, I just need a slap on the forehead to say "Hey! Guess what, life is pretty okay and you need to stop bitching."

Complaining is my favorite past time.

And so, I suppose I can wrap it up with a message from my own heart. I have my beliefs. They are very different from the religious ones I grew up with. (Sorry family) The idea of karma keeps me from doing things I shouldn't. Like keeping the cell phone and the $100 bill inside the phone case that I found last night. It's bad karma to steal. If someone found my phone and my $100 bill I would hope they would return it, the same way I returned the one I found.  And karma reminds me to pay it forward, do nice things  for others, do nice things for the world, and the world will be nice to you in return. In whatever way, shape, or form it feels like.

Do what's right, help your friends, and if you're anything like me, quit expecting things in return. It defeats the purpose.

xo, Tatum