Who Are You?

  My experience with pageantry, and well, life in general has taught me that you really need to know who you are. The world admires people who know who they are. 
 
  So how do you even find out something like that? How do you "get to know yourself" ? One thing is to listen to people. What do they say about you? Christy is a sweetheart. If everyone says that than it's probably true. So you know your nice. People say a lot, like just randomly, and if you're listening you can find out a lot. "Ask Randi, she know a lot about hair." Randi is obviously classy. "I wish Kira were here, she would brighten the mood." Kira is uplifting.

  This works in reverse too. You can find out a lot about your bad traits. like I'm really nice, but I hate to take compliments. I've learned both these things from others talking. Did I think I was nice, not really. Did I think it was a big deal that I never accepted compliments? No, but now I know there is such a thing as too humble. Even if I don't agree I can just thank them.

  By knowing who I am, I can make those traits bigger (or smaller) and become more of an individual. T
 
 I love this quote thing, it's so true, have a personality, and don't copy others. You'll be happier.

 Please follow me whether its through the follow button, or email subscription. Next week I'm going to post about the pros and cons of people watching!

Treasured Trash

  Everyone knows the saying that someone's trash is another man's treasure. I have a full box of another man's "trash" but it is in fact treasure to me.

   The box that holds them, laying in dust under my dresser, is the kind of box one would expect to find treasures in. Pale green, with a silver, metal clasp on it. Very pretty, very simple. It's the kind of box I love to open, because I would want to know what was inside. It's the kind the kind of box that needs you to put something special in it.

  So what, you must be wondering (or not) is in this box, that means so much to me? Memories fill it. Have you ever noticed how you're most precious memories, the most treasured things you have, are the things that least matter to anyone else? Your memories are rarely appreciated by a stranger, as the would appreciate money, or food, but yet my memories are really more important than all the money in the world. They are even more important than, dare I say it, than chocolate sweets. I had to say it, I dared myself.

  One memory is represented by a heart shaped, metal hair clip, its red sparkly covering now chipping. It was given to me by a boy I never meant. He was my brother's pen pal, he lived in another country, Kazakhstan, and he sent me the clip, telling my brother that I was beautiful, although he had never seen me, nor I him. The memory is so precious to me, and to you it may amuse for two minutes, it may touch your heart for three, but you will forget soon, because it is my treasure, but it is not yours.

  Another memory is represented by an ugly little doll, who I once thought to be beautiful, with purple hair, and huge eyes of the same color. She was my favorite toy when I was young, if she was not in my hand she was sitting on my dresser, watching over me in the way only a toy could. This little toy is a reminder of my sweet, and quickly fleeting childhood.

  My box of treasure has many other things as well, postcards, from a family vacation; a yellow bracelet, made by my favorite soccer coach; a candy wrapper, from missionaries who went to Israel; all these things, these memories, are my "other man's trash," but some of my deepest treasures.