*Insert Quote Here*: "The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge." -Stephen Hawking

I like to think that I know a whole lot more than I actually do. For example, my last post (or rant) about relationships was completely unfounded. My sister was right to say that I knew nothing about relationships and being in love. However, her saying that wounded my pride, so I had to prove my great knowledge of love and relationships to absolutely no one in cyberspace through this blog. Too often I get hung up on proving to myself that what people say about me isn't true, when I should really just stop focusing on myself altogether. I've found that I am one of the most self-involved people in the world, and this blog where I'm literally talking to myself probably isn't helping much.

Even Watson from BBC's Sherlock blogs as therapy.

However, this blog has turned out to be very therapeutic for me. Like John Watson on BBC's Sherlock, maybe I should blog about real life experiences and thoughts in order to adjust to real life. I feel like it is a sort of therapy to write out my thoughts and clarify at least a fraction of them. Plus, I'm not ready to stop thinking about myself. I'm still trying to sort out the muddled mess of thoughts in my mind and figure out who I am and what I believe. So for now, I think this blog is helping me in a silly little selfish way. So I'll keep it.

I just looked back on some of my posts from the last year and realized it's almost my blog's birthday. This Sunday, my beloved (yet often neglected) little blog will turn a grand one year old! Celebrations are in the works at this very moment. Something spectacular will surely take place in this very blog in a mere four days! And leading up to this momentous occasion, I have decided I will blog every day until then. I will share things that I'm reluctant even to tell my closest friends and family members. They won't be here to read it though, so it's all okay.

Now, I just have to share a few things that I've neglected to post throughout the last year of blogging. For some reason, I haven't opened up completely and written what's really on my mind. I haven't truly written as myself. Despite the fact that no one reads this blog other than my mom and me, I've had a sort of shyness that I can't quite explain. One of my most embarrassing moments can explain the reason why I believe I can't even commit my thoughts of the moment to a random, unknown website.

This was not me.

When I was a freshman in college, which is almost two years ago now, I got set up on a date for a ward dinner and dance with the cutest guy in the ward. I can still taste the slimy lasagna that he took two helpings of, see the entire circle of unfamiliar faces at our table, and feel the adrenaline rush of fear when they announced the dance portion of the night. To say I was out of my comfort zone is a huge understatement. I'm blushing just thinking about that awkward night. I had fun, but when I try to think back on that night, all I seem to remember were the most awkward or uncomfortable moments. I remember him teaching me how to do the foxtrot steps. I remember having fun learning how to create a pattern of movement in rhythm to the music and enjoying being led by one of the cutest and nicest guys in the room. But then, much to my dismay, the music changed to Top 40 hits. His guiding arms fell away, leaving me all alone to dance to Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies." Not exactly foxtrot material. I panicked. I could dance if all I had to do was replicate a pattern. When it came to freestyling like a normal person, however, I couldn't make myself dance. There was literally a mental block. I can't exactly explain it. So we were standing there, in the middle of the dance floor, and I remember the moment clearly. He said, "No one cares how you look when you dance. Just go for it!" I remember looking at him, wondering how it was so easy for him to disregard everything and just dance freely. I stood there and said, "I care what I think." I mean. Come on. How lame is that? The look he gave me is still seared into my brain. It was part confusion, part judgement, and part a lack of understanding my situation. That moment displays one of my biggest weaknesses. I care too much what I think of myself.

You see, I was so afraid of seeming foolish, I stopped myself from dancing with the cutest guy in the ward. (He ended up accidentally falling into the splits later on, so maybe not dancing would've been a good idea for him too.) Part of my reluctance to dance was that I didn't know how, part was that I didn't want to look foolish in front of this guy, but most of it was a mental block I put on myself. I didn't want to dance because I cared too much what I thought about myself. Yes, to put it shortly, I was too full of myself to make a fool of myself. I can't even say how many times I've done that and ended up not having as much fun as I could have.

This problem won't be an easy one to fix, but I'm determined to end my egotism and self-absorption before they stop me from truly experiencing life. I need to realize that I truly don't know anything. It's okay to be "ignorant" as some people put it, because it's impossible to know everything about everything, no matter how hard people (including me) try.

Now, I need to go to bed before I get too caught up in talking about myself again. All the same, I will post again soon with more random rants that justify my actions to myself. The countdown to my blog's birthday starts tomorrow! Until then, enjoy this song that came onto my Pandora station. I quite like it: