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Boy adds girl on Facebook.

Girl hesitantly accepts friend request, because their paths crossed at some point in life.

Within 3 days boy messages girl:
Hey
Hi
Hi how are you?
Hey Caitlin, how are u
Hi new Facebook friend! lol

My personal favorite:
You look really familiar. Do we know one another, or maybe met in the past?

1. You added me.
2. We both grew up in Eldon.
3. You added me.
4. It would take 10 seconds of looking on Facebook to know we both grew up in Eldon. You don't even really have to creep on me to find that.
5. You added me.

It's no secret I'm 27 and single, but if those are the guys I have to choose from, to quote Ariana Grande, "Thank u, next!"

I'm an old soul, so the idea of finding a match online has never appealed to me. (If you found your spouse online that is great and I don't judge you; it's just not for me!) But if you're going to try at least make the message (pick-up line? If any of those can be called that) worth my time.

At this point in my life, I feel like I could write a book about my dating (or attempted date) experiences. The Facebook messages don't even begin to scratch the surface. I should probably come up with a pseudonym. Unlike Taylor Swift, I don't want my exes/non-exes publicly humiliated. Plus, a lot of my stories I have to articulate very carefully because they could easily make me look like a home-wrecker in which case I have never been.

For the few who read my blog, here's a not so brief synopsis, pre-pseudonym...

The first time a boy told me he loved me, he was engaged and 6 weeks away from his wedding day. A married guy, whose wife was 9 months pregnant, once sent me a 6 page text specifically complimenting absolutely everything I would ever want a guy to give me a compliment about. And I have the uncanny ability to go on dates with guys who send me 8 page hand-written letters, texts, or Facebook messages informing me of all the things I did wrong and begging me not to end things.

Please, don't get me wrong. Those first 2 things broke me and made me feel like I should wear a paper bag over my head. But I can say with a very clear conscience that I did absolutely nothing wrong, nor was I EVER the other woman, and I didn't lead anyone on. I also followed the woman code and terrifyingly talked face-to-face with the fiancé and wife.

With that said, I was left thinking, HOW is this real life? How is this MY life? The girls on my dorm floor helped give me a sense of humor about it all. Lovingly and jokingly they called me a home-wrecker. They would also say out of all the girls on our floor they would have voted me least likely to be in either of those situations. At the time, I had never even had a boyfriend! Yet somehow I found myself there not once, but twice! Never in a million years did I think I would be thankful for knowing how to handle an engaged man telling me he loved me. Nevertheless, going through those emotions came in handy later.

Love, especially marriage, is a serious matter and not anything to be taken lightly, but when forced into situations I didn't bring upon myself I had to keep a sense of humor. And in the last 7 years, God hasn't struck me with lightning for doing so. And for however long it is I remain single, I'll continue to "swipe left" to the pick-up lines boys send me on Facebook.

Sticks and Stones

Labels. They produce stereotypes.

4 year Varsity Cheerleader
NHSCC Small Squad National Competitor
Not pretty enough

Labels. They show hobbies and talents.

Flute Squad Leader
2nd Chair
State I rating Flute Quartet
Not talented enough

Labels. They showcase a person's accolades.

FFA Chapter Vice President
American Degree Recipient
3rd Place National and State Champion Parliamentary Procedure Team
District Champion - FFA Knowledge, Meat Judging, and Ag. Sales
Not good enough

Labels. They prove academic excellence.

Salutatorian
2 out of 154
National Honor Society
Not smart enough

Labels. They look good on resumes.

Labels. They mask what's on the inside.

In high school, I suppose my "resume" made it appear as though I had it all. I was involved and excelled in numerous extra-curricular activities. I had a lot of friends, and because of my random assortment of extra-curriculars I had a lot of different friend groups. My teachers, for the most part, made me feel important and valued.

However, my main group of friends would say one thing to my face and something different when I wasn't around. Their actions toward me spoke louder than their manipulative words. I've blocked out a lot of the specifics, but I don't think I'll ever be able to block out the way they made me feel.

Outsider. Worthless. Never enough. Unnoticed. Unloved. Unwanted. Too quiet.

But that was 10 years ago. (WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE?!) And time supposedly heals all wounds. With those wounds comes scars. While the scars will always be there, the little girl who once let others squelch her personality has become a woman who found her self-worth.

So to those girls in high school, thank you. I will never know what made you treat me the way you did, but thank you. Your sticks and stones once broke me. Your words, they did in fact hurt me. But thank you. You made me strong. You made me brave. Eventually, you taught me not to let others define me. You motivated me to prove others wrong when they say I can't. You taught me to forgive. You made me a better teacher.

Labels. They hide what other's words or actions have led you to believe about yourself.

Labels. They don't have to define you.

Sunday I Fangirled

Sunday I went to Norman, Oklahoma. That sounds kind of boring.

Sunday I got to watch OU compete against UCLA in women's gymnastics. That still doesn't do it justice.

Sunday I was in the same room with 3 Olympic Gold Medalists. Eh. That's better.

OU has Maggie Nichols and Brenna Dowell. Both were elite level gymnasts and were on the 2015 Gold Medal World Championship team. Maggie was one of many athletes to step forward in the Larry Nassar trial. At Worlds in 2015 she got Bronze on the floor.

UCLA has Kyla Ross, Madison Kocian, Katelyn Ohashi, and Jordyn Wieber. Kyla Ross was on the 2012 Gold Medal Olympic team in London. She also has 5 World Championship medals. Madison Kocian was on the 2016 Gold Medal Olympic team in Rio, as well as won an individual Silver on bars and has 3 World Championship Golds. Katelyn Ohashi won the All-Around Gold at the 2013 World Cup. (The last person to beat Simone Biles in an All-Around competition!) Her 2018 and 2019 collegiate floor routines have also gone viral. Jordyn Wieber is an assistant coach for UCLA, has 3 World Championship medals, and was on the 2012 Gold Medal Olympic team with Kyla Ross.

If you haven't figured it out by now, Sunday I fangirled. Hard. So many athletes I have watched compete on TV over the last several years were competing 4 hours away. Thankfully, Brittany, my good friend and co-worker, was up for an adventure with me. Even though our trek to Norman started in the snow, it didn't stop us. There was no way I would let a little snow get in my way!

When we got to the gymnastics meet, I did my very best to keep my composure, but on the inside my emotions were doing as many flips as the girls were in front of me. We arrived just in time to see Ross and Kocian on bars. Throughout the meet I sometimes made sound effects as girls were flipping, or falling off an apparatus, as though I was the one competing. (Old habits die hard!)

Honestly, I didn't care which team won. The whole experience was magical and a dream come true. I cheered for girls on both teams, whether they were the ones I was there to see or girls who had impressive performances. We got to witness 3 perfect 10's. Two by Kyla Ross on vault and bars. And one by the internet sensation, Katelyn Ohashi, on floor.

Sunday I was simply a fan of the sport.

Sunday I fangirled over being in the presence of gymnastics royalty.

Sunday I went to Norman, Oklahoma. That wasn't so boring.

Past My Prime

If I could go back in time, or come back for a second life, I would be more of a gymnast. While I did gymnastics from 3rd grade through my Senior year of high school, my skills were minimal. As a cheerleader, I wanted to be taken as a serious athlete, not just someone going "rah, rah" on the sidelines. I wanted to be a cheerleader who could backflip on the track at a football game or down the length of the basketball court. (Both of which are painful and the veins on the palms of my hands prove it). Yet, my skills stopped at tricks on the floor.

Every Olympic year from the time I was little, I sat mesmerized in our living room watching the Olympic gymnasts. During commercial breaks I would practice cartwheels, backbends, and holding my handstands as long as possible, or as long as the length of our living room allowed. (I'm already aware I was a weird kid.) I had my favorite individuals from Kerri Strug on the '96 team and Carly Patterson in '04. I would rather list all members from '08, '12, and '16, but that would be tedious, so we'll go with Shawn Johnson, Aly Raisman, and Simone Biles. To me those three broke barriers. They changed the image of gymnastics. They weren't slender, dainty, ballerina-like, floating on air gymnasts. They were powerhouses. Short. Muscular. Fierce. I wanted (want!) to be them.

Needless to say, I am 12 years past my prime to be an Olympic gymnast. So instead I watch. Yes, sometimes I am guilty of still doing handstands during commercial breaks. I also keep my own "judge card" during US Olympic trials and try to figure out who will make the Olympic team before it is announced. Not to brag, but I accurately chose the Final Five team who competed at Rio in 2016. I'll make sure to add that to my resume. Maybe one day I'll take my living room judging skills and become an actual judge. For now, I'm content in my present life watching and judging from afar... And throwing a back handspring every now and then just to prove to myself I still can.

Battery Mates

When choosing Cardinals games to go to for the season, we have no way of knowing if it will be exciting or dull. Some games are "duds" and just a fun outing with the family watching our favorite boys of summer. Other times, we luck out and see incredible "one for the record books" type of games. Regardless, we always come away with a new bobblehead for our collections.

For the past 6ish seasons, my family has typically chosen Cardinals games we attend based off of bobblehead promotional days. On September 16, 2018 the St. Louis Cardinals were celebrating the 20th Anniversary of Mark McGwire's historic season with a bobblehead giveaway. I knew this game would be memorable simply due to the celebration of Mark McGwire and sentimental because he is my earliest memories of the Cardinals.

Thanks to a dear college roommate (Kim Hurley), her dad (a Yankees fan), and her grandma (a Cardinals fan with a great sense of humor), in college I had become the owner of a vintage Mark McGwire home run record t-shirt. It's oversized, so I usually stick to wearing it as a night shirt, but that day I wore it to Busch Stadium with pride.

Besides getting a win, that game ranks up with one of my favorites I've seen in person.

First, I was there with my one year old nephew. Not that he'll ever cognitively remember that game, but one day I'll show him pictures. It was special getting to share in a celebration of my earliest Cards memory to create some of my nephew's first Cardinals memories.

The second reason still gives me chills. Adam Wainwright had been on the Disabled List most of the season. This game was his return to Busch. Earlier that week when we got confirmation that Wainwright would be the starter, we knew we were in for some magic.

It's normal for the starting pitcher and the catcher to run in from the bullpen together to start the game. Usually no one pays attention. But this game. This game was different. Longtime (and franchise record holding) starting battery mates, Yadier Molina and Adam Wainwright, were starting together once again. Every Cardinal fan at Busch knew this was a moment to stop and take notice, because Waino's contract was up at the end of the season and at his "old" age it could easily be his final start with Yadi at Busch Stadium.

When the two ran in from the bullpen it was as though time stood still for a moment. I remember looking out to the field seeing them step foot out of the bullpen, then looking over at my dad and nudging him. No words were spoken. No words were needed. We, along with the 45,000+ crowd at Busch Stadium, rose to our feet and applauded. The visiting LA Dodgers fans were probably confused as to why Cardinal Nation was giving a standing ovation for such an ordinary event.

I love the thrill and anticipation going to a game brings. You never know what you're going to get out of it. But sometimes you get more than you paid for and you witness magical moments. Moments that send chills down your spine for years to come. Historical moments that will never be in the record books, but create memories that can never be replicated.

Winnie the Pooh and 62

The year was 1998. I was 6, and I got my first diary. It was purple and had Winnie the Pooh on the front. Plus, it was super cool because it had a lock on it. You know for all the personal things I had to write at age 6.

Also in 1998, Major League Baseball was coming off of down years due to player strikes. At the forefront of bringing fans back to the game were Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa. Both were battling to break Roger Maris' single season home run record which had stood since 1961. To make matters more intriguing it was a classic St. Louis Cardinals (McGwire) versus Chicago Cubs (Sosa) rivalry.

Games back then (1998) weren't as easy to watch on TV as they are now. We (Cardinals fans) were lucky, because once McGwire and Sosa heated up, the Cardinals were given primetime games.

On September 8, 1998, the Cubs were playing at Busch when Mark McGwire hit home run number 62 of the season. It was a night game. It was also a school night. By then I was 7 and in 2nd grade, so it was way past bedtime. Surprisingly, the time never mattered to my parents that year. My mom, dad, sister, and I were making memories. My dad was teaching me The Cardinal Way and showing me what it meant to be part of Cardinals Nation.

That night when McGwire broke the record, after a lot of jumping up and down, screaming, and running circles on our living room floor, I ran for my purple, Winnie the Pooh diary. I wrote my first ever diary entry about Mark McGwire breaking the record with home run 62. I also wrote about my parents letting me stay up late to watch history happen.

Twenty years have passed but not much has changed. I still stay up way too late to watch Cardinals games. If something historic, or exciting, happens in a game, the first call I make is my dad, even if it's midnight I know he'll be up. While it may not be in my Winnie the Pooh diary, I still write about the memories I make with my family and friends over Cardinals baseball. And on occasion, I revert back to my 7 year old self and find myself running in circles in my living room, screaming my head off because I know I've just witnessed history.

Copy and Paste

It's Slice of Life 2019 and I have stared at my blank computer screen more hours this week than I care to admit. I always hate the first blog of the month. I want it to be impactful, but not overly serious. I want it to give my fellow slicers a glimpse of what they'll be reading for the month, but let's get real, I don't have a plan for what I'll be blogging each day. I have ideas, but those change as frequently as Missouri's weather. And honestly, I wish I could just copy and paste my first ever blog post as my first blog each year. It was real. It was raw. It was vulnerable. The only thing it lacked was to adequately express my love for, addiction to, and obsession over the St. Louis Cardinals and coffee. (You'll be tired of my Cardinal's stories by the end of the month. Sorry, not sorry!). While it feels like cheating, the message of being enough seems an appropriate reminder for today, so once again, here goes nothin'...

My first ever blog post, circa 2017:

Writing. I am starting to understand how my students feel when I tell them to free write. They often shift in their chair, stare at their paper, and twirl their pencil around their fingers, while I walk around reminding them to just write something. Now I feel as though the tables have turned. It's my turn to do the writing. My mind is blank. I'm staring at a computer screen. If I had a pencil in my hand, I would be twirling it around my fingers.

However, if I'm honest, my mind isn't completely blank. I have plenty of thoughts spinning around in my head. I have past stories to tell, from my mere 25 years of life, as well as new stories that happen every day. It is more out of fear which causes me to not want to write. If there is one phrase to summarize my life, I think credit would be given to Theodore Roosevelt for saying, "Comparison is the thief of joy." I all too easily compare myself to others. Am I smart enough? Am I talented enough? Am I pretty enough? Am I good enough? Am I... enough? All of my doubts and insecurities creep into every thought spinning around in my brain. Inwardly, my normal joyful and optimistic personality is crushed into a million pieces, while outwardly I try to put on persona of confidence.

Writing. It forces me to be open with people. It makes me come out of my shell and allow people to see a side of me I typically save for my close, inner circle of friends and family. I have built a trust in them, so I feel comfortable showing them my quirky personality. They don't deflate my joy, because I know they won't judge me. They won't make me feel stupid, untalented, ugly, or unworthy. But, YOU, whoever is reading my "Slice of Life," I might not know so well. YOU might judge me. YOU might steal my joy.

Most days I have to remind myself I am enough. God created me to be unique. He made me smart enough, talented enough, pretty enough, and good enough to accomplish whatever it is He has planned for me. I just have to be brave enough to try new things, because sometimes in life we have to push ourselves outside of our comfort zones and dare to do the things that intimidate us.

So, here goes nothin'.

For a month, my pen (so to speak) will be hitting the paper. I will choose to let God control my thoughts when comparison creeps in to take away my joy. In the end, I might just become more understanding of my students when their minds go blank while writing. Because, for a month, their teacher will shift uncomfortably in her chair, stare at her computer screen, and wish she had a pencil to be twirling around her fingers.