The Superb Owl: Purell my ghetto snowman

Happy Monday, Lords and Ladies! Also, to much of the Northeast: happy snow day! Our little corner of the world looks like Narnia. I even made a snowman (Grace already saw him, but he was so perfect that I couldn't not post a picture here on the blog):

meet Purell, my ghetto snowman! Yes, I realize he is sideways, but I had a heck of a time getting this picture to load on our slow computer so I'm not even going to try.

    I dearly loved all your posts last week. Mercy, I am listening to all the music you posted as I type this since it's February now and I am finished with my month-long only Christian music fast. This Sam Tsui song makes me want to waltz. :) Rose, I am glad you are so up front about your fangirling and obsessions. It's important to be okay with who you are. I'm saying that even though I sound like a Hallmark card. Ugh. You're an irrational turtleface. There. Cynical Laura is back. And, Grace, TFiOS is going to be in theaters in four months and three days. We are going to bawl our eyes out when we see it together-- yes, I even think you would cry. That movie looks like an emotional rollercoaster of beautiful, heart-wrenching feels.
    So, today I wanted to talk about two things: the Super Bowl, and my self-esteem. Let's start with the Super Bowl-- like any typical American citizen, I got together at my neighbor's house, ate chicken wings, and laughed at all the commercials. Oh, and I watched the game too. (pause for me to tear up over Hunter Hayes' "Invisible." I love this song. Gah, Mercy, now I'm a mess). I barely get the concept of football, but I decided to be a Seahawks fan. It wasn't a fun game to watch, really. It was too much of a blowout by Seattle. I liked the commercials best, particularly the ones starring my future husband Tim Tebow. I mean, look at this stud:

"If I had a contract, I couldn't save these puppies."

    Which reminds me:

I like too many men who are too old and don't know I exist. Definitely dying a virgin cat lady.

Now, I said I was going to talk about my self esteem. I realized today that it is kind of low, and it took a 97 on an anatomy test to wake me up to that fact.
    You see, usually I grade my own tests. But Mom decided to today, and after she wrote my grade on the paper, I protested and insisted I had definitely gotten a 70-something after looking at the answers. After which she told me I'm not allowed to grade my tests anymore, since I'm too hard on myself. After that I conceded that she should probably take over, since she's 1) been homeschooling for 18 years, and 2) a few credits shy of a Master's Degree in teaching. You would think I would feel better, now that my grades in Anatomy (my hardest class) would be properly graded, and probably higher, but instead I felt guilty, because I took seven other tests this school year and each grade is probably recorded much lower than it actually is.
    So, I have realized I am very hard on myself. I always assume the reason something is easy for me to learn is because I'm not really trying, not because I might actually be smart. I feel awful if I don't work out five days a week, or don't eat well, and am convinced I'll gain the Freshmen Fifteen at college next year. When I speak to someone, anyone, the words coming out of my mouth correspond with the thoughts in my head, whispering why did you say that? You're so awkward and annoying, just stop talking.
    On some level, I think I know those things are all lies from the pit of Hell. And it took a lot for me to admit I carry those insecurities everywhere I go, even if it's just the Foursome hanging out, alone together. And, I know its about a month late to make any New Year's Resolutions, but I think I want to resolve to take care of myself. Valentine's Day is fast approaching, and on the day on which we celebrate superficial love with chocolates, lame cards, and lust, I want to like myself.
    That was a lot. I'm sorry. But I know I've dug myself into a pit of insecurity, and for everyone reading this, I hope you never do that to yourself. It's not worth it. You hem yourself into a nervous Being with a bad habit of people-pleasing. You bite your nails and become used to the feeling of twisted nerves in your abdomen. But I think I am 500% done thinking like that-- so, ladies, could you pray for me? Pray that I'll get over myself and stop doubting my own abilities? That would be great. :)
    I'm done talking about this now. Onto a happier, final subject: WE SEE EACH OTHER IN TWELVE DAYS. To add to our list of cool things to do while we're together over Single's Awareness Weekend: probably play in the snow. Because who knows how the weather will be in a couple of weeks? Probably snowy. Mercy, you had better write a better, shorter post tomorrow.
--Laura :)