Help Wanted.

Hey you guys!
This isn’t a depressing post, in case the ominous title worried you at all. Just to get that out of the way. :^)
But…. I still need your help.
You see, today in YW, our leader gave a lesson on goal setting, and she told of how she was able to run a 5K by setting simple goals for herself, and it got me thinking: why can’t I do that? What is stopping me from being able to run a 5K?
I know I have a tendency to not follow up on my goals and things like that, but really. There has GOT to be a first time for everything! And when I think about it, there are really more pros than cons, honestly, for example:

  • Getting in shape
  • Knowing that I can do hard things
  • Being an inspiration to others
  • Accomplishing a difficult goal
  • Acquiring new talents
  • Spending more time outside

I think those are great reasons to begin running! But I can’t do it on my own.
 I NEED YOU.
I need you to encourage me through comments, conversation, emails, texts… Really anything you can do to help drive me onward. I want to do this. I CAN do this. I WILL do this. But I need YOU to push me when I’m feeling lazy (which will happen), and to encourage me when I feel like giving up (which will also happen). Inspirational quotes can really help. I’ve got a few, but it never hurts to have more!
I think, to try to get myself to do this, I will have a weekly check-up on this here blog, letting you know how I’m doing and how I’m feeling. I think I’ll do it Sunday nights, and if I forget or something, I need you to bug me about it! Bother me about doing this until I want to scream! I need to get there. I need to do this for me.
“The difference between a dream and a goal is a deadline”- Steve Smith. How true this is. I am going to do my research and find out when a 5K is happening near my area, and I will put it on my calendar, on my blog, on my mirror, anywhere I will see it so that I’m reminded of the time I need to be ready.
If anyone else wants to run with me, I will welcome them with open arms! The more the merrier, you know. We can push ourselves together! We can do this! Have faith.
It’s going to be a hard road, but what’s life without a challenge?
“Why not go out on a limb? That’s where the fruit is.” -Mark Twain
Thank you for all you do for me. I love you all.

-DQ#1

The story of how I didn’t go stag.

I’m a weird girl. You, of all readers, should know that by now, so you should know that I tend to be very opinionated when it comes to certain things. Like dances. Para exemplar, if you’re going to a dance, you need a date. It’s just a given, folks. You can’t just go by yourself and watch other people have the time of their lives while you’re standing around in tight shoes, drinking punch to pass the time, and feeling awkward. At least, I can’t. I have an over-romanticized way of seeing the world, and even if I don’t have a crush on the kid, I still like being in a boy’s arms, even if just for a few minutes at a time. Doesn’t every sane girl? 

Anyway.
I tried to move fast, but every time I asked (or attempted to ask) a guy, they simply couldn’t! I received my latest rejection right after I bought my lovely dress, and, free spirit that I am, I refused to let my dress go to waste! I WOULD have a date, by golly, and he would be darn handsome! So I hatched a plan. I would take a guy who simply couldn’t say no. A guy who would be absolutely speechless when I asked him to go with me. A guy who was practically perfect in every way. A guy like Ken Carson. I’ve known Ken for quite some time now, and when I met him again in WalMart on a Saturday night, I knew I had to do it. So I asked, and he ended up coming home with me! He had a tuxedo ready to go, and I figured everything would go according to plan.
And boy howdy, did it.
I felt like an absolute PRINCESS! I honestly do not think I’ve ever looked more beautiful to a dance than I did last night- my dress was flawless, my makeup turned out SO GOOD, (seriously guys. It. was. Perfection.) my hair was cute and simple, and I had killer shoes. Add self-confidence and sparkly earrings, and I was a knockout! 

My corsage was a baby headband!! :^O

The only thing that could have made this night better is if Ken was human.

But that’s okay! It turned out better than expected. I got so many comments, compliments, funny looks, and giggles that it totally made my night! My pal Draven said, 
“You know, Haeley, I’m pretty sure nobody has ever thought of something like that before. Only you! I respect that!” Which, when you think of it, is totally true! I’ve never known of anyone who took a Ken doll to a dance in lieu of a date with flesh and bones. Just me! I like it that way. Being original is what makes me who I am, and I’ll be spunky, and original, and wild and fancy-free until my last day on earth!
Now I know what you’re thinking: Haeley, this is great and all, but did you actually dance with this plastic dude? The answer is yes!
And you’re probably curious as to if I danced with any dapper young gentlemen who possessed a pulse, and the answer is also yes! 6 different boys, to be exact! And the best part is I didn’t have to ask a single boy to dance. Ha! They all asked me! That makes me sooo happy, y’all. I think Ken made them jealous. ;^)
Fun little tidbit: I had to go tinkle at one point, and while I was in the powder room, all the boys got in the annual dance-off, including, you guessed it, my Kenny Kins! Somebody spun him out onto the dance floor, and the boys all got into making him dance. Subsequently, he totally dominated the dance-off. He won, in fact! Wow! That’s my man! :^D
I apparently inspire people, as well! Marissa Henderson came up to me and told me how funny it would be to have a group of girls come with plastic dates sometime! It was a proud moment for me. 
The awesome thing is, I’m the one who came up with this! There’s hope for me after all.
Some more pictures of my dad interviewing my handsome young gentleman caller:

Me, comforting my guy after the scary meet-the-dad talk.
So, yeah! That was my night in a nutshell. 
P.S. Lexi, I get a picture in the yearbook, right?? :^)
-DQ#1

So tonight was the dance concert, and it was absolutely wonderful. The way those girls can take music and interpret it into their movements is positively astounding to me.
As always, I clapped and screamed and whooped like a maniac, and thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience.
When the time came for their final bows, I enthusiastically stood up to give them a well-deserved standing ovation, because it’s my personal belief that when somebody has honestly worked countless hours in order to produce a beautiful work of art, that person deserves a standing ovation- a way to let them know how much I appreciated them, if you will. So I stood, and clapped, and shouted, and smiled my face off- it really WAS remarkable, you guys. Breathtaking.
The lights came up and we all stood up to begin our exit. Still grinning, I turned around to take it all in, facing the rear of the theatre, when I met eyes with an older lady in a blue shirt. She looked at me, and spat,
“You are stupid.
I was quite taken aback at these words: what had I done wrong? Was I too loud? My smile melted away and I began to fight back tears. I had just offended somebody I didn’t even know, and they thought I was stupid. The good thing is, I have wonderful, wonderful friends who stuck up for me and comforted me, even as I lost it and cried in earnest. Ryan even went up and told the lady off- in a very mature, graceful way. (Dude, you are a superhero.)
So now I would like to take the liberty to compose a letter to her.

Dear Crotchety Old Woman:
Tonight was the dance concert, as you are well aware, and I am the girl whom you called stupid. Excuse me? When you are at a concert, it is perfectly fine, acceptable, and ENCOURAGED to give performers a standing ovation. But, seeing as how that somehow offended you, you decided the best course of action would be to resort to name calling.
First off, may I just let you know how thorougly JUVENILE that was of you? Didn’t your mother ever tell you that if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say it at all? What is your excuse? Just because you are my elder, that in no way gives you a right to belittle me and try to make me feel bad about myself- because it worked. Thanks to you, my evening was soiled and I felt worthless. Instead of enjoying myself, I have spent the rest of the evening hurting and wishing I had not looked your way.
Secondly, there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to support my fellow classmates. They deserved a full standing ovation, and instead they got two girls who wanted to show their support. Just because we actually cared, that doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk about it. They were taking their final bows, for Pete’s sake! There was nothing to see!
Third, I refuse to apologize. I will not bow down to your level and feel bad for supporting my girls. Okay? And I think behavior like that does not merit apology. I don’t CARE if I am younger than you. Why do you think that makes you superior? Why do you think you can make that judgement when you don’t even KNOW me?
I’m sure your pissy attitude has gotten you REALLY far in life.

In other words?
Take a hike and see if I care.

Over and out.

-DQ#1