Work was a little stressful since Helga wasn't in yesterday until later and it seemed like everyone and their dog either dropped by of called to talk to her. District managers, managers from other stores, corporate people, author signing coordinators, just everyone. I guess that the VP of the company didn't call for her, but he did for me. Yeash. . . I loved it! It was a proof I needed to myself that I was responsible and could handle what I needed to.

On the tale end of it all Gibby called to say hello. It definitely made me smile, but I couldn't really talk so I told him I'd give him a call later. After I got home I sat down to talk to my mom, and the next thing I knew it was eight o'clock. I called Gibby back and we made plans to get together after he had closed his store. In the last post I talked about wanting to be that person that could be trusted, that friend and over frozen custord I was able to have some of that. It was wonderful.

Now I have to wonder how he will respond if we ever fall into that conversation about me. . .

Justin dropped off my Zune charger and it was good to see him for a second. A good day.

The only way to make a man trustworthy is to trust him. Henry Stimson (1867-1950)

Gibby, Gibby, Gibby. . . I called you a "walking enigma" and I meant it whole-heartedly. So, I'm not a pro when reading people, but I am decent. You have left me baffled and a little frustrated. I want so much for you to trust me and let me be a confidant about more than events. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I want to be that friend.

Crime butchers innocence to secure a throne, and innocence struggles with all its might against the attempts of crime. -Maximilien Robespierre

It's not every day that your day at work starts out with over 20 police vehicles blocking the road in front of your store, but that is how mine did. It all happened when this guy holed himself up across the street from us. Can you say creepy? What would have happened if he had come through a few minutes earlier or I had been a few minutes later to work?

If little else, the brain is an educational toy. -Tom Robins (1936- )

As I was talking to Fawn tonight about the concerns she has in her life, I realized I need to take my own advice in a lot of ways. I have learned SO much. I KNOW myself. So why don't I trust myself to do what I feel is right? I can do this.

Confusion is always the most honest response. -Marty Indik

There are a lot of important feelings you have as a teenager. A lot of firsts. Hopefully some lasts. Growth. I am 22 years old and I feel like I have run full-speed into a teenager brickwall.
Seriously, shouldn't I be over the whole "I don't fit in" aspect of it all?

At work I am the assistant manager. I kind of look at it as being an extension to the manager. Looking at things like she would and accomplishing what needs to get done. It's been hard to fulfill that. More often than not, I feel like I get dumped on from both sides. Helga and the employees talk about problems they have. . . in other words, they complain about each other. So I am trying to stand up for the employees and point out their positive attributes which leads Helga to think that I don't understand the problems that are going on and trying to explain to the employees the reasons behind what we do which they perceive as me taking Helga's side.

Gibby and I have talked a little bit more lately. Just texting, really. Again, I am totally amazed at how great this guy is, but I feel so young. I've had plenty of life experiences, but I don't feel like I have anything under my belt that could qualify me as a potential anything to him. Then there are other guys who I go out with and. . . well, they're immature with no direction in life. So I'm too young for what I want, but too "old" for what I can have.

As I mentioned before, I have a calling in the Young Women at church. I am the Beehive Advisor. A leader. However, I'm still being treated like one of the girls I'm supposed to lead by the other leaders who are already in Youn Women. So I'm too old for the girls to see me as someone who can relate to what they're going through, but too young for the other leaders to see me as an equal.

There is Justin, whom I care about dearly and I always want to be a part of my life, but I am having a hard time in two regards. First, trying to be the friend and take out the "something more" mentality of it all. Simple enough.

Secondly, that I don't mesh perfectly with his friends no matter how much I want to. The guys are hilarious and the girls are cute, but most of the time I'm just absorbing the conversation without adding to it so instead of becoming a part of the group I feel like more of a leech on their good times rather than part of the group.

With Ed and his friends, I've turned into "one of the guys" which is really cool. To be accepted into that role is something that I don't think I would ever earn, but how do I stand up for not wanting to hear the crass humor a girl shouldn't have to hear, but still maintain that blending in?

All these parts of my life (which is pretty darn near the whole of it) are conflicted. AH!

Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe, old age flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of death.

-Edith Wharton (1862-1937)

It is now officially my birthday. 22.

Isn't this moment just past midnight supposed to be exciting? Aren't I supposed to dwell on all the wisdom I have gained? Shouldn't I wonder at all the opportunities ahead of me?

. . . Then why is that I find a heaviness on my shoulders and a loneliness in my heart?

Where is there dignity unless there is honesty? -Cicero (106 BC-43 BC)

Two nights ago, Ed told me a little a story. Well, I knew the story because I was part of it, but this story was the side that I never heard before; a side that made a whole lot of other things make sense and a story that made me think about where I am now.

Back in the day, really back in the day, after a break up, Ed was my confidant (that much hasn't changed). He was the person I went to take walks with, to let my thoughts flow out loud to, and just bawl on his shoulder when it was too much. No girl could have been luckier to have that calliber of friend. Completely unbeknownst to me, was that he liked me at the time. However he was gentlemanly enough to let me get through all my crud without the tumult of trying to figure out my feelings for someone else. I never got through that crud because I ended up getting back together with the guy that I broke up with.

So why does this make such a big deal to me years after the fact? I'm trying to sort that out. . .

Part of me purely flattered. This guy is one of the best out there.

Part of me is grateful that he told me.

Part of me feels justified. Last year when I had those feelings for him and it just wasn't there, I hurt a lot. It is like I wasn't beating my head against a wall for nothing because one time. . . one time he looked at me like that.

Part of me feels regret. Those "if only I knew"'s tend to get you, I guess.

Part of me wonders what it would take for both us to be on that page at the same time and if that is even possible.

The rest of me is just plain bewildered. I don't know what to think.

* * *

Aside from those thoughts, the story sent me down a road of self-evaluation. With my birthday coming around soon it made me wonder if that me that was lovable and attractive to guys is just gone. Maybe it's because I'm getting older, or I've put on weight, or I don't have my degree, or because I'm jaded from all of my experiences. . . . I love myself because I accept myself the best I can, but is there something there for somebody else to?