Twinkle toes

I've never dreamt of wearing tutus or tie-up shoes. Grace and lithe serenity as befits a ballerina, weren't born with me in nature. I'm much more apt at sports and working in dirt.

I'm almost as flexible though...getting there anyways...

The most dancing I did as a kid was with my sisters to Swan Lake (usually performed in our dress-up tutus...), In the Hall of the Mountain (a song our mother used to get us to do our chores more quickly), and Peter and the Wolf. In my younger years I recall my Daddy leading me in the waltz with my sock-clad feet standing on his snake-skin boots (he used to call me "twinkle-toes"). I was raised on movies like Newsies, Singin' in the Rain, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Meet Me in St. Louis...basically the old musicals with lots of fun dancing scenes.

I've always loved watching dancing. Especially when it looks like the dancer is having the time of their lives. As my taste in media and my view of the world and all of its many cultures has expanded, I have developed a love for actually dancing myself.

In High School I took a ballroom dance class. Rhythm, timing, form all came easily to me (with the younger boys in the class I usually ended up leading...which turned out to be very unhelpful later on as most 'manly' men don't appreciate the help...odd). Then my first couple years of college I went country dancing with my friends and roommates every Wednesday night (this is where me leading proved an annoyance...the line dances were my favorite).

Whilst searching for a fun elective, I stumbled upon African Dance (and gaped). I signed up for it immediately. I took it for three semesters in a row. Every class was enlightening, fun, energetic. The live drummers came to recognize me and I became fast friends with the hippy bunch (is anyone surprised?).

I want to be brown...and wear the black head piece on the left...

I'd always wanted to travel to Africa. Learning about the meanings behind the dances, moving to their ancient rhythm...it all made me feel like I was getting a taste of the rich African culture.

Recently (within the last couple of years) I was exposed to Bollywood. Hailing from India, it also comes from a deeply rooted traditional country. Bright happy colors flying around. Beautiful smiles on faces of the energetic dancers. The dances are exciting and fun with a lot of movement and happenin songs!

Dil Bole Hadippa...one of my favorites...with my favorite actor...

I love trying out the dances and I can usually pick up on the chorus because they repeat the moves but usually the fun parts are on the verses...so it would take much repeating and lots of practice to get those down. I love the colors! They are so bright and happy which makes me happy so of course I want to copy them. My sister, Melissa, and I are now owners of some pretty sweet Indian outfits..(soon to be owning more...straight from India...)...

As a small child I was completely enthralled with the Native Americans. Pocahontas was one of my favorite Disney movies(might have had something to do with the fact I had a HUGE crush on the cute red-headed Thomas). Camille and I used to run around being little Indians...grinding berries to make medicines, making bows and arrows (not very good ones might I add), setting up real live traps for the mean neighbors, once we even rubbed dirt all over our skin so we were darker. The culture of the Native Americans is also rich and ancient and as with the previous groups, dancing means something and can tell stories about the People. 

Awesome. The end.

They look so passionate when they are dancing. I went to a Pow Ow with my roommate and I was just mesmerized! It was so powerful for them. It meant something to them and that touched me.

Riverdance. What the awesome?! It comes from a land of lore and mystery, of enchantment. This form of dance also comes from an long-lived country. The light and carefree music leads the dancers through frivolity and gaiety! Every dance exudes the bubbling laughter of the people or the misty mysterious beauty of their myths.

They look so mysterious and gorgeous. LOVE.

My sister, cousin and uncle all participated in lessons and my sister taught me a little bit. It was so fun and light and lilting...just like their music.

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The Path Ahead

I don't pretend to be a good writer. I just try to make things interesting once in awhile and if it suits me, I share the thoughts and feelings inside me. Feeling very pensive on this fine Sunday morning, this is one of those times.

Sometimes in life the path ahead is unclear to me. Things that happen along the way make me pause and overthink all sorts of nasty thoughts.

The destination is clear.

But there are times when the path has been overgrown by a thicket of doubt or a tree has fallen in front of me that takes much effort and pain to clear.

Since General Conference (2) is coming up this next weekend, I have been pondering a lot of things in my life. God has promised me so many great blessings and given me many blessings that I have done my best to appreciate. But what an impatient creature I am. I want these blessings now. I have not the patience it requires. Because of this impatience...I falter. I stumble. I doubt and fear what is ahead. That maybe I'm not going to receive those blessings after all. 

But God is great. There is no one more trustworthy than God. It is my weakness that bars the way. But it is through His strength that I will overcome.

I may not know my pathway's journey ahead but I do know that God knows it. He is the Master who loves me and will lead me through all that I may encounter. He knows and understands my pain and in Him will I trust. 

D&C 24:8

"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." -John 16:33

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Passionfruit

There's a lot in the world to be obsessed about. Growing up I had a huge obsession with horses. Anything that had to do with horses was by far my favorite (whether or not it deserved such elevation in my little world).

Although I have small obsessions like giraffes, collecting notebooks/journals, bracelets, stapling papers together, and sports to name a few, there is one mainstream passion that I have begun to notice taking over my life.

I absolutely adore, love with all my heart, cannot do without, must do all day for the rest of my mortal life...

Getting to know myself. I certainly don't know myself as well as I should and I don't know half the things about myself that I observe in my friends and family on a regular basis. I know what I like and what I love but not why. It's like I'm a mystery!!! (that was for you Abbie Dean) A soul waiting inside for me to discover. I have always enjoyed getting to know people, their little quirks, why they do things the way they do. But until recently had never thought to discover myself.

I spread the peanut butter on one slice first and then wipe the remaining off on the other slice of bread before spreading the delicious jam or jelly of choice BECAUSE that's how my mother always prepared our PB and Js when I was a little tike.

I like to organize and clean my surroundings when I'm feeling nervous or uncertain BECAUSE I've discovered that when I feel like I have control over one menial thing, I have some control over life no matter how hectic it may seem. 

I sing loudly and without abandon to the radio BECAUSE I love life. Life holds so much joy in every day and singing out loud just for the heck of it makes me happy.

I pray all the time...like ALL the time, so much in fact, I'm sure I've heard the Man Upstairs sigh a time or two when I call his name...but all joking aside. I pray to a God that lives BECAUSE when I know something to be true I do my best to live by it. I know He will answer my prayers and listens to the small little problems in my life and does His best to comfort me.

God has given me so much. Even just considering me as a human being and His spirit daughter, I have a lot to be thankful for. Every time my faith falters, every time my soul cannot grasp onto hope's bright light, every time my head hangs down, my Heavenly Father is there for ME because he loves ME.

If the Supreme Being of the universe loves me that much, then there must be something special about me.

That is my new obsession. Finding myself through my Savior, seeing my true reflection through His eyes.

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Wanderlust

My bag is packed. Selected and designed to get me to my journey's end.  I open the door. The first step is always the hardest, the leaving part. But yet not the hardest. The excitement for adventure in me makes it easy. I step onto the road to test my true endurance.

The road is long. I've known it for some time. Prepared in every way possible. But what awaits me, is beyond my comprehension. I've only heard stories and fairy tales of the place at the end of this road. I must get there. The desire in my heart and the strength in my soul begs me to reach out for it. Despite the promised dangers that lay in wait and the strain on my mortal body, I travel.

Thirsting and starving. Stumbling, weary, and travel worn. I stop. Only for a time. I am alone on the road. I find a stream heading the same direction I am. The cool water refreshes me and I eat my bread to strengthen me. The night is coming.

Much must be done to prepare myself for the long night. Shelter is thrown up and a fire lights a small circumference around me. I sleep for a time.

Noises coming from the dark. I've been taught to stay in the light. The creatures of the night don't bother with fire and its company. But sleep is hard to come by with the fear and anticipation of what lay beyond my eyes' seeing. The fear gathers inside me and I doubt the sun's rising. But just the slightest glimmer on the eastern horizon sparks hope in my heart.

The road stumbles me. My small torch only shows me so far ahead. Many times I climb huge obstacles and other times I walk sluggish through dense forest. But always my mind remembers where I'm going. And who will be there waiting.

I've reached the mountain. My destination lies beyond. With determination I reach up and take hold. My load weighs me down at times but it is essential for me to keep it close. Climbing requires all my strength and fortitude. Sometimes I run out. But Someone's hands push me forward or lift me up when I get caught.

Right now I must struggle on. The hardest part of my journey is stretched up before me. I have come a long way. But more is required if I am to reach this place. My heart yearns for it. Although my body is weak, strength will come.

Nothing can stop me but myself.

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Glowing inside

I sit inside this decaying mortal body. I've been trusted with its care. It functions well. But every moment is precious. Although there is strength and physical hardiness to be found, my gift is fragile. Any moment could find me flying back to the presence of my God, leaving it behind.

My beautiful perfection has been marred by some of the things it does. I feel bits of me being chipped off by the sheer depression of a mortal mind and the weak faltering of a carnal nature. I try to stop it. To warn it but while I am in this body, my voice goes unheeded a lot. My voice. It used to ring through the halls of heaven, but now it's small and quiet, barely a whisper. 

Words of encouragement drizzle down on me like warm summer rain. There is nothing else comparable to this feeling. The voice of the prophet of the Lord carries in it the voice of my Savior. My Redeemer speaks to me through his servants, words composed to lead me through the darkness into His everlasting light. The love and light in their eyes reminds me of moments before this life. Of a Heavenly Father and Mother. I swell with happiness and fill the shell that holds me here.

First Presidency

These are the moments that regenerate the light within me. The channel that mortality hinders, opens up at their soft words. The more light my mortal lets in, the less I am pushed back. The abundance of light that this gathering and teaching has provided always stitches a part of me to my frame. This is why I'm here in this body.

To become what my Father is. Light.

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Golden delirium

I watch the little white fluffs coasting down from grey low-cast skies. Street lights cast a glow of gold across the white terrain, almost beguiling me. 

But I'm no fool. 

There is no warmth on the other side of the double-paned glass that I look through. It is a false type of gold. 

Hell's gold.

The real gold won't come for a long while it seems. The presence of cold and slushy snow drifts acts to push back its coming. 

The world has been subjected to this cool silver season for a small eternity. Every year it seems to last longer than the winter prior. And colder. It's always colder than the last roll around. 

Heat. 

That's what I look forward to. Hot molten sunlight saturating my skin and hair. Inhaling spicy summer air, warming my frozen soul. Gold and lively green hues surrounding me and feeding my dull spirit. Sunlight reaching into every dark corner and refurbishing the winter dilapidated happiness.

To run through fields of lush green grass chasing balls and frisbees. To catnap in sunlight's warm embrace. To accompany nature's inhabitants through morning's first waking, along deer trails and mountainsides. To explore the wilderness of a hidden grove. To lay in repose, watching the clouds drift lazily across an ocean-blue sky. To watch tiny seedlings swell to adulthood in the sun's daily presence. To lose yourself in the pink and white frothed orchards.

These are what I hunger for and every winter I'm left wanting. Starving.

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Looks for myself: Hair part

 In the entire history of the world, woman has been known for her long lustrous locks of hair. Blue ebony plaits of the Native American tribes. Glorious long blond curls of the Germanic tribes. Sparking red tresses known to the Irish. Brunette ringlets abundant in the European hills.

There is a lot that can be done to this hair we women have been blessed with. If it so happens we need a change of color...there are multiple options at our disposal. Now as a generally un-girly girl (that was for you Melis) I do so enjoy doing fun things although I love the hair that God blessed me with.

Dying my hair a darker shade is one of them.

Only temporarily of course. If it was permanent then I would be mad that I couldn't change it back to my natural color without going through the awkward "dye line" stage.

Highlighting my hair was another color change step I had to try.

Note also the extremely attractive sunglasses. Luckily I didn't do platinum blond highlights because then I would've had one of those undesired lines mentioned earlier. I had more like a caramel glaze drizzled over my already light brown hair. I look like a Californian babe...obviously...

The last color change idea I tried was a peek-a-boo. Now I've tried doing the cool bright colors but they faded... the blond is still awesome sauce. I do not as of yet have a good enough picture to display here but it does exist...

Now. This part is my favorite. I have never been so excited about something so little in my entire life.

My jedi braid. 

A simple wrap of diverse colors and patterns arranged in my hair thus. I'm the envy of the university because of it. The colors you see here have since been removed and replaced with an earthy brown, and bright green and salmon bands. Thanks to the dexterity of my good friend Shalyn Maxfield. I have done my best to spread the awesomeness of the jedi.

The one thing that I have done often to my hair and with a great measure of trust. I've received multiple hair cuts. Not from just any old hair stylist either. I've received hair cuts from not one but two of my beloved sisters....and loved it!! My bravery was well rewarded. Despite their lack of well-practiced hands or even their confidence in themselves, they succeeded in making me happy with a shorter, more manageable haircut.

Out of all the crazy hair cuts, hair dye colors, hair wrap options, feather inserts, hair extensions (which I NEVER plan on participating in) there is really only one option I haven't tried... a perm. Now in my childhood recollections...a perm meant Shirley Temple ringlets. There is no way I'm goin there brothers and sisters! However, when I do happen to have the length of hair requisite for said perming, I will go for the long wavy curls that are more stylin in this age and time. So there might just be a post further in the future concerning my next step in the hair tweaking process...

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Leaning tower of bracelette

I am a bracelet queen. Bracelets are kind of my thing. If it's roundish and fits my wrist...I'll take it. I've been told that because of this fetish I am a hippy child. Whatever the reason, I wear a menagerie of bangles on my wrists, heavy on the left side. These make up only half of the bracelets in my ownership.

From top to bottom:

• EFX neoprene surfer's band
• A large colorful handful of crazy bands, shapes include: unicorns, fairies, magic lamps, dragons.
• Some fake, but really sweet pearl bracelets
• Two Support The Troops bands
• Awesome sauce handmade Argentinian bracelet
• A wire and rubberband made by Tanner Lewis
• Slap bracelet with "I <3 JESUS" found in the Joann's parking lot
• Polar plunge bracelet from doing the 2011 polar plunge
• Another pearl bracelet...separated from the others
• Bridgerland Applied Technology College memo band (my place of employment)
• Green and purple pipe cleaner bracelet made by yours truly
• Big thick green PEACE bracelet attained from Rue 21
• A fantastic Green Earth band
• Lots of turquoise beady bracelets

As you can see in the picture I also have another bracelet taking residence on my wrist. A double EFX band for balance and serenity.

The bracelets that have permanent residency on my wrist: a baseball seam tied to fit my wrist from a baseball in a park, a horse hair bracelet from my horse Rho, usually a hair band for wayward hair, and a friendship bracelet I made for myself. I have multiple bands for charities and causes that occupy my jewelry box at home. And I just made a purchase of rope bracelets from Downeast Basic. I plan to continue to add to my already abundant collection of bracelets and bands and bangles until I feel that it is complete.

Which will be never.

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Books of paradise

There are many times in my life when I just need to cuddle up on the couch or curl up on my bed and read a good book! 

Sometimes I*m in the mood for a gushy-like-gushers; cheesy-like-the-delicious-squeaky-kind; sappy-as-a-pine-tree romance novel. Other times I*m in need of an honest to goodness C.S. Lewis novel for some deep soul searching and philosophical ponderances. Every night I crack open the Book of Mormon (1) for some serious studying to find life changing answers and comforting words. When I*m up for it I*ll grab a Sherlock Holmes mystery and puzzle my way through it. 

But the books I will never tire of. The books that capture my attention every time I look at the cover. Books with cunning wit. Books of stunning insight and out-of-this-world knowledge. Books that make me laugh until I cry or cry until I laugh. Books that change my life. 

These are books of the paradisical glory of which I speak...

Me and my awesome nose...oh; and the book is there too.

The Complete Book of Nose Etiquette
 ...and other nasal matters

written by Dr. Doight du Nez

drawings by Steve Bjorkman

Never before have I stumbled upon such a work of greatness. Well...it was more my uncle. He was foraging through his old room and its remaining occupants and brought it up to us. I snatched it and haven*t relinquished it since. With amazing depictions of the different nose types in existence; the book describes the 7 basic nose types; discusses the different booger removal techniques available; and even lists some easy do-it-yourself ways to get the nose you*ve always dreamed of. This is by no means light reading.

If you can see my eyes...you might be ninja...

The Ninja Handbook

This book looks forward to killing you soon

Official product of the International Order of Ninjas

This wondrously sneaky book came as a not-so-surprise Christmas gift from an esteemed foe of mine. As is his nature; he tends to think that I need help in this area (little does he know I wrote Section II deducing your ninja level and Section IV the skills of a ninja). In this book it discusses secrets of the elite ninja lifestyle. As the title denotes it is a handbook of sorts. But as with everything else that is awesome; being a ninja goes far and beyond what is contained in this teeny tiny book as all real ninjas well know. 

note: there are serious penalties to those who read this book and disperse the actual contents of its pages...you have been warned...

I*m just a small town girl trying to figure things out...

This Is NOT A Book

Written by Keri Smith creator of Wreck This Journal

This Is NOT A Book was an interesting item to come across. It really isn*t a book. I didn*t read it. Every page contains a new adventure to be performed by the owner (me). From creating Treasure Maps to Psychological mood-altering machines to Kits for boring events. This book is stuffed with crazy random missions for the bored-out-of-your-mind type people or people who need some serious awesomeness in their lives. Some day when I*ve completed all of the pages inside...I will be so mind-bogglingly fantastic no one will know what to do with me.

Well...that is assuming they know what to do with me now...as a normally fantastic person...

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I dono

Where is it? Is it happy?

I wouldn*t know. I can*t seem to find it.

But surely it*s there. Everyone else has theirs.

I can*t feel it. I can*t see it. I can*t hear it anymore. I can*t remember what it felt like.

Where could it have gone? It*s impossible for it to just disappear.

Is it? Can you find it? It has to be gone. Otherwise I would be able to find it.

I*m not sure where to look. I got so used to it being there that I forgot to remember.

I feel like giving up now. How can we find it if we don*t know where to look?

But surely we can*t give up. That would be depressing if we lost it permanently.

I don*t think it would. It might make things a LOT less complicated. We wouldn*t have to worry.

If we found it though; we could lock it away where no one else could find it. It is so precious. We can*t leave it out there alone.

That*s what anyone else would do. Why can*t we just do what*s easy?

Because it means so much to us. I know that it can be full of sorrow; but there is so much joy found in it too.


That*s just it. How will we know if it still has any joy left in it? We might have used it all up.

I don*t know. But remember how much joy there was before we lost it? Perhaps we can replenish it.

Yes. Yes I do remember that. But where could we go? Who would know so much about something like this to be able to help with that?

I just...I just don*t know. There must be something we can do. I don*t like being without it. It*s uncomfortable.

I know. Me too. We can acclimate. It*s part of our survival instinct right? I know we can do this. 

It will be hard though. Maybe we should find it and let someone else take care of it. That way we wouldn*t have to worry.

Sigh. I don*t think you are understanding. It was our burden to bear. We are the caretakers and we lost it. IF we are able to find it then we would have to guard it lock and key. We can*t lose it so easily again. It belongs to a very important person. No one else can have it. It*s just not meant to be stretched out between more than one person. We*ve failed.

It*s just not there anymore. How could this have happened?

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Less timeless

I haven*t been here long. 

Just a little over a fifth of a century really. It*s timeless to me because it*s all I*ve ever known. I don*t have a specific beginning point to my memories; merely snippets of my past that shimmer in my conscious. It*s surprising that I remember as much as I do. So much happens in one day. More often than not; there isn*t enough time for it all.

In retrospect; time goes by like a pinprick. At the moment; it certainly doesn*t feel like it is. This is where regret falls. Maybe time isn*t as timeless as it used to be before. The closer I come to the literal meaning of mortality; the more I appreciate the time that has been allotted me. 

No matter how much I appreciate it though; it still has a way of slipping away.

So many silly aspirations flit about in my dreams. I hardly ever act on them. Fear. Doubt. Pain. I know I forget to live my life for fear of losing or for fear of change. Whatever the case may be; I feel like in all the 21 years I*ve been on this planet; I still haven*t lived the fullest life that I am able. I*m not a fearful person by nature. Any fear I may have; comes at another*s bequest. I*m really quite optimistic and laid back about everything. Which has proven quite worrisome to my parents many a time.

Time. What a small word for such an altering constituent of life. The best moments in mine; are the moments that I*ve spent doing what I love.

I love being with my family. But you and I both know that there is never enough time spent doing that. Every time I*m with them; I can be myself. No pretending; no facade; no tough face. But this is where life throws its curve. I never feel like I measure up. In a family where the genius and talented gene runs rampant; I never feel like I have anything to offer to the family name. I*m not dumb nor talentless; but my progress in life has been halted many times because of my fear of failure when compared to any of them. I wish that I hadn*t let all that time go to waste worrying about it because then I would have so much more confidence in myself whether or not failure was the end result.

Having so little confidence in myself; I can*t stand the thought of people thinking badly of me and that is my worst fear. Fear. It holds me back every time; even when I know it is ridiculously futile. 

If I spent more time doing things just for the heck of it; doing what I want to do; and less time fretting about others* opinions of me; I wouldn*t have so many retrospect regrets.

Fact; time isn*t long enough. But...

would I take the best advantage of it if it were?

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Araruana x Macao

I*m watching the students file in and sit in their seats. The buzz of teenage voices fills the room but one voice rises above the others with ease.

His attention is arrested on me. His white whiskery face pools with an excited blush. This jail-bait male practically dances and prances in his seat. The students in the room laugh and give their full attention to his useless antics.

I can feel his eyes intent on my face; watching my every move. Anytime I happen to glance his way; he puffs up and shows off his colors. I chuckle and shake my head at his naivete. Even if he were in date-able age range for me; he definitely isn*t my type. Positioning himself on the table in front of me; he bobs his head up and down repeatedly.

*Hello!* His voice grates on my eardrums.

*Hello. How are you?* I ask with exaggerated enthusiasm. Instead of replying; he looks at me from the side; *making eyes* at me. I can*t help but laugh out loud. He joins me and drags it out past the point of humor. He holds his leg out towards me invitingly. Oh no. I*m not so easily fooled! I*ve been in this situation before and I got hurt.

That beak was NOT something to be trifled with. But for some odd reason this 6 year old male has chosen me out of all the females in the room to flirt with. He flaps his wings and sharpens his beak; pulling out all of his best moves apparently. I relent and allow him to sit on my arm next to my body. Peikia dances and sings to me. He rubs his face on my shoulder; a sign of true affection coming from a macaw. The worst flirtatious gesture he pulls out is his regurgitating-loogie-to-show-you-that-I-am-a-good-provider trick. Not yummy.

Of course my kind act led to pain. His beak; with 350 pounds of pressure; was angrily taking his woes of unrequited love out on my unprotected body. This had happened before. Biting isn*t a very nice thing to do to someone; but a 6 year-old Catalina macaw doesn*t care about a common courtesy such as that.

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No place like it

I sit in my car, taking in the seemingly painted scene before me. Except for the light illuminating the air around the two story house, the world around me is blanketed in cold darkness. The silence and solitude that keeps me company, causes my stillness. I look to the beacon of light that this place represents in my life. What a wonderful feeling to return here. There is a sense of relief, of calmness. I know that here I am loved. It is here that my character was built. Here I have made memories.

Opening the door I climb out of the black vehicle and grab my things. The closer I come to the lit building, the more happy my being becomes. My feet barely the touch the ground as my heart feels lighter and freer.

The burdens of everyday life can be left outside at this place. I step through the threshold into the light. Warm greetings and shouts of excitement welcome my entrance. My face can't help but break into a smile. This place seems to increase the light in my spirit just by being here. Though the world has dumped snow on the world and on my life of late, nothing can take away the warmth and comfort here. This lit world within is my refuge, my safe place.

I can be myself here. I can find myself again. All the despairs and stresses of life are still a part of me, still looming in my mind but I can forget them...for a little while. I am filled with peace and tranquility because I'm home now. Home.

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Gamers

The dating game is very much like the childish game of tag-you're-it. Both genders are playing and tagging one another, running around trying not to get tagged by the ones we don't want to be and hoping to get tagged by that certain person. Then if you're tagged you go for that person again. Sometimes two are lucky enough to find someone they like playing with alone and end up playing their own private game.

More often than not we all find the game gets really large. Tons of children come join the game and the entire schoolyard is our playing field. If only it were that simple.

The dating game has so many more rules and complexities. Most of the time the game starts with the male player making his move, followed by a reciprocated movement by the female player.

In my experience the game goes so much better when both key players are trying to win. If only the one is playing and the other isn't, the game goes nowhere, it is at a standstill. The one playing gets frustrated and the other doesn't understand why they are getting so emotional about a mere game.

But if the one competing is smart they will end that game and find another gamer. There's too much time wasted in trying to finish the game with them to the end knowing you'll come out finishing but leaving them behind.

The worst type of game played is when the time runs out and extenuating circumstances causes the game to end abruptly. Both players are left feeling unfulfilled and hurt.

A lot of times one of the players will decide that they need a break and leave the other sitting alone at the game. Or they will look around and see other games or other players and decide that they don't want to finish out that game they were playing and again leaving the other player alone.

Many times, there are female players aplenty, waiting and hoping for someone to notice their game set up, and come start a game with them. Sometimes, they are waiting a long time. The dating game is different than all other games played in this entire world because of one thing. The heart.

Anyone can play a game of tag and lose and still feel good about themselves.
Anyone can play a game of frisbee, lose and have hope for the next game.
Anyone can play a game of Canasta, lose by just a few points and still be happy.
Anyone can play a game of golf, hit the ball too far and have a good attitude.

But no one can play a dating game, lose, and still feel good about themselves, have hope for the next go around, be happy, or have a good attitude. Some are really good about getting over the hurt quickly. Others are really good about hiding their pain. A lot get discouraged and pack up their game, not willing to invest that part of themselves again.

There is more invested in a dating game than just time or effort, the heart is the biggest player. The heart is the end goal and the incentive. The heart is the means and everyone's biggest secret. Everything in the dating game revolves around the heart and affects the heart. That's why it isn't like any other game. We risk a lot more than we might get back. But then, when there is finally someone with whom we find our happiness, it all becomes worth it and the previous pain and hurt goes away. That is what the whole point of the dating game is. To find that happy ending. To get to the happily ever after.

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