Dear B&B,
I'm writing this letter to both of you because neither of you could have caused me the trouble you did without the other's help. B, I've known nearly as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, you were cool. You were a leader. You got to do all of the things I thought I wanted to do. As I grew up, I realized that I didn't want to be just like you (you were nerdy), but I still respected and liked you. You were an installment piece to my summers. You had cute brothers.
One day, as a pleasant surprise, be became a youth leader at my parent's church. My dad was one of your biggest fans. I was cool with you being there, heck, even as a nerd, you were still under 30 and the youth group needed that. You were gone for a few weeks and came back with B. No one had really known you'd been engaged, but we were happy for you. She was quiet. I didn't know what to think of her. They said she was an artist, too. People thought this was a great opportunity for someone to relate to the high school me.
Hi, other B, I'll be talking to you too now.
We got close. I almost liked going to church. B, you never became un-quiet, but I worked with it. I felt cared for. I didn't have to be forced to go to church events because I knew you tried to make me feel welcome, even though I didn't really care for the other teens. I hit a high point in my religious journey, if you will, under your guidance. I began dating a guy that you'd been mentoring. People thought that maybe I'd turn out alright after all.
What you didn't know was that I corrupt the boys I date. Not intentionally, of course. I don't go into a relationship with the malicious intent of ruining their moral convictions. My body does it for me, I guess. I got tired of him. You didn't know that I also get tired of them, did you? I think a lot of people, including him, thought that it was meant to be. I didn't. I got tired of all of his self-righteousness and his Bible thumping. I got tired of letting a Hobbit touch me. You didn't know he did that. Not until he told you anyways. Of course, it was my fault, even though I was the one who broke it off. In his heartbrokenness, he turned to you. It was understandable, really. I was the first girl who'd given him the time of day. I came out of his grief looking like the bad guy. I heard your counsel in every word he spoke to me, and he spoke to me more than I'd have liked. He couldn't accept that it was over. Did you do this?
When I got sick of his harassing, you told me I was unkind and far from God. That, B&B, is not for you to judge. You singled me out. You didn't hear my side of the story. You coddled him when you should've known he had enough of that. I wanted far less to do with God after your example betrayed me. It's been a long journey back to finding my faith. It doesn't look like it used to, but I like it better.
I now know that it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Thanks. What is that part in the Bible about being wary of wolves in sheep's clothing? I bet they had you and all those false prophets in mind when they wrote that.
Sincerly,
The Redhead.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Day 13: A Band or Artist That Has Gotten You Through Some Tough Days
I've honestly got nothing on this one.
I listened to Linkin Park a lot in high school because could relate to their lyrics, but I wouldn't say they helped get me through anything. If anything they helped solidify my dark feelings.
As much as I like music and art, when things are tough, I find yoga or a warm shower to be more helpful.
Boring blog day.
I listened to Linkin Park a lot in high school because could relate to their lyrics, but I wouldn't say they helped get me through anything. If anything they helped solidify my dark feelings.
As much as I like music and art, when things are tough, I find yoga or a warm shower to be more helpful.
Boring blog day.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Day 12: Something You Never Get Compliments For
I am a sort-of vegetarian. I don't eat mammals. I had to expand from "no red meat" to "no mammals" since pork is technically "the other white meat" but is still a mammal that I have no interest in eating. I began limiting my diet back in high school. I gradually cut back on meats, even trying full vegetarianism. Due somewhat to parental protests, I agreed to keep eating chicken and other poultry and seafood.
I can't remember anyone complimenting me on my choice to not eat mammals. The closest thing to a compliment has come from others who limit their meat intake, and even some of those don't understand why I only eliminate mammals from my diet. I used to try to explain it to nearly everyone who sneered at my choice or told me it was weird. I've stopped doing that, for the most part, unless I sense they are truly curious and not just critical because they'd eaten six burgers that day.
I do it partially for humane reasons. It doesn't take much searching to uncover the cruelties commonly forced on animals bred for slaughter. Electric prods, unnaturally altered diets, confined living quarters: it's all so unnatural. Do I love my burger enough to put another living being through unnecessary pain and growth hormones? No. I'd also like to add that, although I will still eat poultry or fish, I do my best to find hormone-free, free range, non-farm raised, etc. I'm lucky to live in Ohio in this respect, the Amish raise some darn tasty natural chicken.
The other part of my reasoning is health related. Red meat just isn't that good for you. People with high cholesterol and other diseases are instructed to cut it out of their diets. The chemicals used to treat meats practically carcinogenic. People who don't eat red meat live an average of two years longer than their carnivorous counterparts. Not to mention digestion. The human body is not designed to digest red meat. It gets to your intestines, sits there, and rots until it can be processed. Yum? I'm out to have the flattest, leanest belly that I can, and having food sitting in my intestines for long periods of time doesn't sound like a great contributor to that cause. It is high in protein, so I have to find that elsewhere, but the fat content is worth the trade.
Not to mention the quality of commercially prepared meat products. Taco Bell faced a class-action lawsuit over their "ground beef product" which claimed that what they were selling as beef contained less than the USDA standard of 40% meat. The lawsuit was later dropped, but it brought to my attention that the government required something to be only 40% meat in order to be marketed as "meat." I don't know about you, but I'd like to know what I'm eating and you can bet that there are some gray areas in that other 60% that may or may not be good for a human body in the long run.
Long story short, I think I have pretty good cause for not eating mammals. "Because it tastes good" isn't cause enough for me to ignore all the evidence again red meat, particularly. I don't try to convert anyone to my way of eating, nor do I expect people to abstain from burgers around me. I just choose not to eat them. I don't talk about it unless asked.
I can't remember anyone complimenting me on my choice to not eat mammals. The closest thing to a compliment has come from others who limit their meat intake, and even some of those don't understand why I only eliminate mammals from my diet. I used to try to explain it to nearly everyone who sneered at my choice or told me it was weird. I've stopped doing that, for the most part, unless I sense they are truly curious and not just critical because they'd eaten six burgers that day.
I do it partially for humane reasons. It doesn't take much searching to uncover the cruelties commonly forced on animals bred for slaughter. Electric prods, unnaturally altered diets, confined living quarters: it's all so unnatural. Do I love my burger enough to put another living being through unnecessary pain and growth hormones? No. I'd also like to add that, although I will still eat poultry or fish, I do my best to find hormone-free, free range, non-farm raised, etc. I'm lucky to live in Ohio in this respect, the Amish raise some darn tasty natural chicken.
The other part of my reasoning is health related. Red meat just isn't that good for you. People with high cholesterol and other diseases are instructed to cut it out of their diets. The chemicals used to treat meats practically carcinogenic. People who don't eat red meat live an average of two years longer than their carnivorous counterparts. Not to mention digestion. The human body is not designed to digest red meat. It gets to your intestines, sits there, and rots until it can be processed. Yum? I'm out to have the flattest, leanest belly that I can, and having food sitting in my intestines for long periods of time doesn't sound like a great contributor to that cause. It is high in protein, so I have to find that elsewhere, but the fat content is worth the trade.
Not to mention the quality of commercially prepared meat products. Taco Bell faced a class-action lawsuit over their "ground beef product" which claimed that what they were selling as beef contained less than the USDA standard of 40% meat. The lawsuit was later dropped, but it brought to my attention that the government required something to be only 40% meat in order to be marketed as "meat." I don't know about you, but I'd like to know what I'm eating and you can bet that there are some gray areas in that other 60% that may or may not be good for a human body in the long run.
Long story short, I think I have pretty good cause for not eating mammals. "Because it tastes good" isn't cause enough for me to ignore all the evidence again red meat, particularly. I don't try to convert anyone to my way of eating, nor do I expect people to abstain from burgers around me. I just choose not to eat them. I don't talk about it unless asked.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
House Guests
Happy Easter.
My parents are driving me insane.
As much as I love them, we do better on the phone. I realized this shortly after moving out. It was as if a lightbulb went off in my mind. "Hey, we actually get along pretty well and I kinda even like talking to them when we're not in the same room." Perhaps its awful, but we're so different that when we're together, someone is always either bored, frustrated, annoyed, or annoying.
Although I asked them what they wanted to do while they were here multiple times before their arrival this past Thursday, I always got the answer that they'd figure it out once they got here. Great. Worst possible response ever. There were NO PLANS. Yet, when we found ourselves sitting in the car, ready to go somewhere, there had been no decision made as to what to do and people start getting pissed. No one brought directions or addresses to any of the options, so we guessed on a location and relied on the GPS. My dad hates his GPS. He says he doesn't, but I'm pretty sure that's just because we got it for him for Christmas and he doesn't want to hurt our feelings. I think it probably hurts my mom's feelings when he gets annoyed and rips it out of her hands, but I'm sure it was a good gift.
I'm not a big holiday person. I even started to dislike Christmas a few years back, because holidays are when I saw my family and that almost always puts me in a bad mood. There are plans that get changed at the last minute and schedules to be stuck to, and when things don't go exactly as planned, or as he wanted, my dad gets quite cranky. My mom also has a tendency to be late and do things at the very last minute, so I'm sure you can imagine how that turns out. She says he comes up with expectations about how things will be and gets upset when they don't work out that way, even though he won't voice those expectations. It feels impossible to please him.
My parents are staying until next Sunday. 10 days. I'm sure my discomfort with their presence is already driving The Writer crazy. They're on their best behavior around him, but they still bring out the worst in me. As I mentioned, they've made no concrete plans as to what they're going to do while they're here. I think they're looking to me. They want to help me pack for my move on Saturday, but packing is a highly personal thing to me and I don't like the idea of my parents poking through my things. They're highly conservative to my moderately liberal and we have increasingly different interests. I came upstairs to write just now because my dad began playing his new Christian CD (which sounds just like all the others, in my mind) at a volume which made it impossible for me to concentrate on May's Vogue that I was trying to read. It clearly did not interfere with his ability to concentrate on his devotional book. I have my faith, yes, but I also have other interests. I see religion as nearly all-encompassing in my dad's life.
The need to occupy them leaves me with little alone time. Forget alone time with The Writer. I need both for my sanity, which I feel that I am losing at a rapid pace this week. I don't have time off from work this week and there are still a ton of things to be done for the move. I doubt they want to be dragged along on my errands, but I feel bad leaving them sitting at home, trying to learn to use the cable (they've never had it) even though there isn't much they'd want to watch on there anyway (too worldly).
I know I probably come across as ungrateful for their willingness to help. I feel bad about that. I don't know what to have them do though. They didn't ask if this was a good week to visit, although it was the one my mom had off from work. I think I could enjoy them if there wasn't anything to do. I felt this way last year when they came out for my graduation. There were schedules to be kept and events to attend, therefore, there was tension.
I wish we could just call each other.
My parents are driving me insane.
As much as I love them, we do better on the phone. I realized this shortly after moving out. It was as if a lightbulb went off in my mind. "Hey, we actually get along pretty well and I kinda even like talking to them when we're not in the same room." Perhaps its awful, but we're so different that when we're together, someone is always either bored, frustrated, annoyed, or annoying.
Although I asked them what they wanted to do while they were here multiple times before their arrival this past Thursday, I always got the answer that they'd figure it out once they got here. Great. Worst possible response ever. There were NO PLANS. Yet, when we found ourselves sitting in the car, ready to go somewhere, there had been no decision made as to what to do and people start getting pissed. No one brought directions or addresses to any of the options, so we guessed on a location and relied on the GPS. My dad hates his GPS. He says he doesn't, but I'm pretty sure that's just because we got it for him for Christmas and he doesn't want to hurt our feelings. I think it probably hurts my mom's feelings when he gets annoyed and rips it out of her hands, but I'm sure it was a good gift.
I'm not a big holiday person. I even started to dislike Christmas a few years back, because holidays are when I saw my family and that almost always puts me in a bad mood. There are plans that get changed at the last minute and schedules to be stuck to, and when things don't go exactly as planned, or as he wanted, my dad gets quite cranky. My mom also has a tendency to be late and do things at the very last minute, so I'm sure you can imagine how that turns out. She says he comes up with expectations about how things will be and gets upset when they don't work out that way, even though he won't voice those expectations. It feels impossible to please him.
My parents are staying until next Sunday. 10 days. I'm sure my discomfort with their presence is already driving The Writer crazy. They're on their best behavior around him, but they still bring out the worst in me. As I mentioned, they've made no concrete plans as to what they're going to do while they're here. I think they're looking to me. They want to help me pack for my move on Saturday, but packing is a highly personal thing to me and I don't like the idea of my parents poking through my things. They're highly conservative to my moderately liberal and we have increasingly different interests. I came upstairs to write just now because my dad began playing his new Christian CD (which sounds just like all the others, in my mind) at a volume which made it impossible for me to concentrate on May's Vogue that I was trying to read. It clearly did not interfere with his ability to concentrate on his devotional book. I have my faith, yes, but I also have other interests. I see religion as nearly all-encompassing in my dad's life.
The need to occupy them leaves me with little alone time. Forget alone time with The Writer. I need both for my sanity, which I feel that I am losing at a rapid pace this week. I don't have time off from work this week and there are still a ton of things to be done for the move. I doubt they want to be dragged along on my errands, but I feel bad leaving them sitting at home, trying to learn to use the cable (they've never had it) even though there isn't much they'd want to watch on there anyway (too worldly).
I know I probably come across as ungrateful for their willingness to help. I feel bad about that. I don't know what to have them do though. They didn't ask if this was a good week to visit, although it was the one my mom had off from work. I think I could enjoy them if there wasn't anything to do. I felt this way last year when they came out for my graduation. There were schedules to be kept and events to attend, therefore, there was tension.
I wish we could just call each other.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Fits of Giggles
"Anyone can be passionate, but it takes real lovers to be silly."
- Rose Franken, writer
I included this quote in a photo memory book that I put together for The Writer for our first anniversary. I Stumbled Upon it one day and it immediately thought of him. One of my absolute favorite things about him is that he can make me laugh. He's so silly and outrageous sometimes that I just can't help myself!
Yesterday we both had a long lunch break and were just lounging around. He thought it would be funny to lean over an blow a raspberry on my arm. I freaked out a little, then started laughing. He naturally thought his next best plan would be to try to blow raspberries ALL OVER ME! I don't think I've laughed that hard or that long EVER!
I love him.
Day 11: Something People Seem to Compliment You the Most On
I have been gifted with some pretty long eyelashes. I never really thought they were extraordinary, but once I got to the age when girls started wearing makeup people started to notice them. People would ask if they were my real lashes. Of course they are! I have never been able to wear falsies because i can't manage to get them behind my real lashes. I can't get contacts past them either. I can't wear certain sunglasses because I won't be able to close my eyes if my lashes touch the lenses. It's awful. Not. Although, they did truly work against me when I was 14 and a makeup artist tried to pull them off. She said she needed to start with a clean slate. Mhmm, ouch. I learned to do my own stage makeup after that.
I get complimented on my eyes/eyelashes more than anything else. It seems superficial, but strangers aren't going to compliment you on the way you cook or care about your friends. I think women tend to compliment my eyelashes and men compliment my actual eyes. Maybe because men pay less attention to detail? The Writer says they are his favorite part of me. I went into my piercer to have my nose ring changed about a month ago and he complimented my eyes asked if I was wearing contacts. Why do people assume that if something is pretty or impressive that it is fake?
I've come to like them and learn to work with them. I rarely leave the house without mascara, even if I'm not wearing any other makeup. If I have to choose to play up either my lips or my eyes, I definitely choose the eyes. I feel confident when they're enhanced. I've seen (no pun intended) what they can do and I'll take that advantage.
I get complimented on my eyes/eyelashes more than anything else. It seems superficial, but strangers aren't going to compliment you on the way you cook or care about your friends. I think women tend to compliment my eyelashes and men compliment my actual eyes. Maybe because men pay less attention to detail? The Writer says they are his favorite part of me. I went into my piercer to have my nose ring changed about a month ago and he complimented my eyes asked if I was wearing contacts. Why do people assume that if something is pretty or impressive that it is fake?
I've come to like them and learn to work with them. I rarely leave the house without mascara, even if I'm not wearing any other makeup. If I have to choose to play up either my lips or my eyes, I definitely choose the eyes. I feel confident when they're enhanced. I've seen (no pun intended) what they can do and I'll take that advantage.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Day 10: Someone You Need to Let Go, or Wish You Didn't Know
Friendship is a two-way street. I admit to often being guilty of expecting to be sought out by friends. It's something that I've been working to change. I know that I don't like being alone too much and that I can't expect the friends to come to me. I have to put effort into my relationships.
As much as I know I have to contribute to friendships, I think that there is a point where enough is enough. I will try to keep a friendship alive only so long. If the other person is continually avoiding me or apathetic, it may be time to pull the plug.
I have a certain friend that came to mind and it disappoints me. We were close, roommates, assumed to be sisters by most. I won't say the friendship turned one-sided entirely, but after having her boyfriend live with us for three months rent-free and other escapades, I was exhausted. She seemed to live in a dream world. There were moments of clarity during which I and her other close friends saw "the real" her. She'd always slip back into dream world though. It was a world without consequences and she was the sun, the center.
She left a month and a half ago to study abroad, postponing her graduation and acquiring several loans on what seemed like a whim. I've spoken to her perhaps three times, the conversations always initiated by me. Sometimes I'd reach out to her with no response, sometimes with half-interested bullsh*t. She hasn't the slightest idea of anything that's happened in my life since she left, that I know of. She hasn't asked. There were lines in our sparse correspondence about my current situations, but she never acknowledged them or asked for details. It hurt knowing that I could tell someone I'd considered my best friend that I'd been laid off and that I needed a huge repair on my car and get no response from them.
In a month, she'll be back. The Roommate and I will be living in our new apartment already and all of her things will have been moved back to her parents' house. I don't know when I'll see her. I may seek her out, because I'm a bit reluctant to admit that we may not even be friends anymore. I don't know if she'll call me or even think to.
As much as I know I have to contribute to friendships, I think that there is a point where enough is enough. I will try to keep a friendship alive only so long. If the other person is continually avoiding me or apathetic, it may be time to pull the plug.
I have a certain friend that came to mind and it disappoints me. We were close, roommates, assumed to be sisters by most. I won't say the friendship turned one-sided entirely, but after having her boyfriend live with us for three months rent-free and other escapades, I was exhausted. She seemed to live in a dream world. There were moments of clarity during which I and her other close friends saw "the real" her. She'd always slip back into dream world though. It was a world without consequences and she was the sun, the center.
She left a month and a half ago to study abroad, postponing her graduation and acquiring several loans on what seemed like a whim. I've spoken to her perhaps three times, the conversations always initiated by me. Sometimes I'd reach out to her with no response, sometimes with half-interested bullsh*t. She hasn't the slightest idea of anything that's happened in my life since she left, that I know of. She hasn't asked. There were lines in our sparse correspondence about my current situations, but she never acknowledged them or asked for details. It hurt knowing that I could tell someone I'd considered my best friend that I'd been laid off and that I needed a huge repair on my car and get no response from them.
In a month, she'll be back. The Roommate and I will be living in our new apartment already and all of her things will have been moved back to her parents' house. I don't know when I'll see her. I may seek her out, because I'm a bit reluctant to admit that we may not even be friends anymore. I don't know if she'll call me or even think to.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Penny Pinching Princess
I'm sitting here at my desk at work trying to plan out this summer. With The Writer being in NYC for ten weeks starting in June, I want to make sure I can visit him as much as possible. I also want to make sure I can work as much as possible before I drop him off, yet still have plenty of time to spend with him. I plan on maximizing on his absence by working a ton while he's gone, too. I hope to take a full two to two-and-a-half weeks off over the summer to visit him and my family in New Jersey.
With my work being cut back in the last month, money's gotten tight. I've consolidated my credit cards and plan to save every bit possible. Not only do I want to be able to take time off over the summer, but I'm aiming to pay down at least 75% of my credit card debt by next April. It's going to be tough. With the plan I'm on, if I pay their minimum amount, I'll pay off the cards in a little under four years. It would've taken me the better part of 30 years if I'd kept paying only the minimum payments on the individual cards. Still, four years is a long time. I have other goals that I want to move forward with at the end of next April, and I don't want these payments hanging over my head.
I bought what I'm determined will be my last pair of shoes for the summer last night. They were a practical buy, I'm telling myself. I'm glad I got the rest of my spring/summer clothes buying done before I knew my work was being cut. I bought enough to get me through the season, including a new pair of running shoes that were badly needed. I'm sure there are other things that could use replacing, but I am determined to not buy anything, and I mean anything, unless it's really needed. I won't buy new clothes unless I start a new job that demands clothing options that I don't already own. I won't buy any new body care until I've used up every drop of what I already have, which is a lot. My makeup and other things should last me a while, especially once it's summer. My skin is always happier with a little sun, making foundation less necessary.
This new deal with myself means that I will have to live with Maybelline mascara instead of Diorshow. I will have my girlfriends over for potluck dinners instead of eating dinners out. My Netflix account will be suspended indefinitely. If the roommate will agree, cable may disappear altogether. Lightbulbs in the new apartment will immediately be replaced with energy efficient bulbs. I will do a yoga DVD at home instead of going to classes. The Starbucks card will not be reloaded. I may allow myself to splurge every once in a while, because I believe that experiences are worth more than money in the long run. I may miss the occasional $3 latte, but I would definitely miss the long talks with my friends that are had while drinking that latte. The compromise: switch to plain coffee with a flavor shot and some soy milk (it's cheaper) and meet my friends anyway. I will buy cheaper face wash, but buy my expensive moisturizer, instead of buying the expensive cleanser AND moisturizer. In $30 years, I will rather have spent the money on the moisturizer than actually look my age. Clothes and shoes can be bought in the future when I'm established financially, but repairing aged skin will be more costly than serums or moisturizers, if not impossible.
I want my blog to be a lifestyle blog, encompassing all of my interests and explorations. Being smart about my money is something that I am long overdue in learning, so it may become a frequent topic. It's better than whining about being poor, that's for sure.
Ready?
Set.
GO!
With my work being cut back in the last month, money's gotten tight. I've consolidated my credit cards and plan to save every bit possible. Not only do I want to be able to take time off over the summer, but I'm aiming to pay down at least 75% of my credit card debt by next April. It's going to be tough. With the plan I'm on, if I pay their minimum amount, I'll pay off the cards in a little under four years. It would've taken me the better part of 30 years if I'd kept paying only the minimum payments on the individual cards. Still, four years is a long time. I have other goals that I want to move forward with at the end of next April, and I don't want these payments hanging over my head.
I bought what I'm determined will be my last pair of shoes for the summer last night. They were a practical buy, I'm telling myself. I'm glad I got the rest of my spring/summer clothes buying done before I knew my work was being cut. I bought enough to get me through the season, including a new pair of running shoes that were badly needed. I'm sure there are other things that could use replacing, but I am determined to not buy anything, and I mean anything, unless it's really needed. I won't buy new clothes unless I start a new job that demands clothing options that I don't already own. I won't buy any new body care until I've used up every drop of what I already have, which is a lot. My makeup and other things should last me a while, especially once it's summer. My skin is always happier with a little sun, making foundation less necessary.
This new deal with myself means that I will have to live with Maybelline mascara instead of Diorshow. I will have my girlfriends over for potluck dinners instead of eating dinners out. My Netflix account will be suspended indefinitely. If the roommate will agree, cable may disappear altogether. Lightbulbs in the new apartment will immediately be replaced with energy efficient bulbs. I will do a yoga DVD at home instead of going to classes. The Starbucks card will not be reloaded. I may allow myself to splurge every once in a while, because I believe that experiences are worth more than money in the long run. I may miss the occasional $3 latte, but I would definitely miss the long talks with my friends that are had while drinking that latte. The compromise: switch to plain coffee with a flavor shot and some soy milk (it's cheaper) and meet my friends anyway. I will buy cheaper face wash, but buy my expensive moisturizer, instead of buying the expensive cleanser AND moisturizer. In $30 years, I will rather have spent the money on the moisturizer than actually look my age. Clothes and shoes can be bought in the future when I'm established financially, but repairing aged skin will be more costly than serums or moisturizers, if not impossible.
I want my blog to be a lifestyle blog, encompassing all of my interests and explorations. Being smart about my money is something that I am long overdue in learning, so it may become a frequent topic. It's better than whining about being poor, that's for sure.
Ready?
Set.
GO!
Day 9: Someone You Didn't Want to Let Go, but Drifted From
I grew up around a common group of kids my age. We all went to the same church and most of us eventually ended up attending the school that the church ran. It was assumed that these people would be my friends. My parents, for sure, assumed this and encouraged me to hang out with the "church kids" over other friends I met in school, even though the church kids were the ones I most often had problems with. I wasn't cut out with the same cookie cutter as they were, maybe not even the same kind of dough.
I had fleeting friendships with many of them and we are civil and moderately interested, for whatever reason, in each other's lives when we see each other. My lack of closeness with this particular group was a major factor in my choosing to go away to college and to stay away after I graduated.
My move to Ohio affected the few close friendships that I did manage to have throughout high school. My best friend and I hardly ever talk. We are both busy working multiple jobs to make ends meet, but when we do see each other, we catch up quickly and pick up right where we left off. I would still say that we have drifted. I'd have to say it started around my senior year of high school. When I got a late night phone call from her, she didn't even have to tell me that she was pregnant, I already knew. We were that close. New moms get busy though and she went through a lot of drama with her family during her pregnancy, so we didn't see each other or talk as much as we used to.
I left that next summer. I spent eight to nine months of the next four years out of state. Classes and homework took up less time than they should've, but time is still time. I met new friends, went to new parties, had more constant rehearsal schedules. I made it back to visit when I could and she was one of a small number of people who warranted a visit nearly every time. I was a bridesmaid in her wedding my sophomore year, but had to miss her shower because I couldn't afford another trip back East.
I miss her a lot. Nothing's come between us, we've just drifted. Adulthood demands more of us both and we're in different places now than we'd imagined during our high school sleepovers.
I had fleeting friendships with many of them and we are civil and moderately interested, for whatever reason, in each other's lives when we see each other. My lack of closeness with this particular group was a major factor in my choosing to go away to college and to stay away after I graduated.
My move to Ohio affected the few close friendships that I did manage to have throughout high school. My best friend and I hardly ever talk. We are both busy working multiple jobs to make ends meet, but when we do see each other, we catch up quickly and pick up right where we left off. I would still say that we have drifted. I'd have to say it started around my senior year of high school. When I got a late night phone call from her, she didn't even have to tell me that she was pregnant, I already knew. We were that close. New moms get busy though and she went through a lot of drama with her family during her pregnancy, so we didn't see each other or talk as much as we used to.
I left that next summer. I spent eight to nine months of the next four years out of state. Classes and homework took up less time than they should've, but time is still time. I met new friends, went to new parties, had more constant rehearsal schedules. I made it back to visit when I could and she was one of a small number of people who warranted a visit nearly every time. I was a bridesmaid in her wedding my sophomore year, but had to miss her shower because I couldn't afford another trip back East.
I miss her a lot. Nothing's come between us, we've just drifted. Adulthood demands more of us both and we're in different places now than we'd imagined during our high school sleepovers.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Day 8: Someone Who Made Your Life Hell or Treated You Like Sh*t
Here is where I could revisit the pitfalls of my high school romantic entanglements, but there is far too much melodrama in that case file, so I'm choosing to take you to my most recent let down.
Until this past January, I had been working in a retail environment. I was lucky to be employed a fairly high quality and well known retail chain, but I was still a salesperson in a midwestern mall. Not what I went to college to do. I determined for myself that after the holiday season, during which I'd been made a temporary manager, I would either move up in the company or move on to something more profitable.
I began putting out feelers and was offered a full-time position with another retailer. At the same time, a friend from school approached me about promoting his dance studio and helping him with managerial and administrative duties. I accepted the somewhat riskier position at the studio, since it had been doing well, they were expanding into a larger studio space, and desperately lacked design and promotional intuition.
The pay was going to be much better than anything I'd gotten at the mall. I had a budget planned out that would let me pay down my credit card debt while not depriving my closet or stomach. The next year was going to be good. I signed a lease on my new apartment based on this projected income. I planned to pay up front for my vacation to Florida last month as well as be able to afford one or two trips to visit The Writer in NYC during his internship this summer.
I received my first paycheck. The day I was set to receive my second check, which also happened to be a week before flying to Florida, my friend/boss asked me to meet for coffee. I knew that things in his personal life had been on a downward slope and I admit I'd feared the worst for the studio. The realization that perhaps this situation had become less secure had hit me midweek and I'd casually begun perusing Monster.com. Sure enough, he sat down and confessed that the studio may be closing and, in any event, they were unable to continue paying me.
I rushed to The Writer's house, which is where I'd been heading when I'd stopped for coffee in the first place, thankfully. I cried. My beautiful plan lay in ruins.
Thankfully, I had also been working at the attached fitness center as part of the deal, and would still have that income. The dance studio owner felt bad about letting me down and promised to continue paying half of my check from his own pocket. I never bothered to plan on seeing another dime from them. I was right. Since returning from Florida, I've received neither assignments nor payments from them.
I bear the owner no ill will. I know he would've kept me if he could, but his good intentions don't diminish the financial blow that I took. I lost nearly 40% of my income because of mistakes he and his partner made in their dealings with clients before I came on board. I've been searching, but nothing suitable has come up. Compared to what I thought I'd have from this job, this is hell.
Until this past January, I had been working in a retail environment. I was lucky to be employed a fairly high quality and well known retail chain, but I was still a salesperson in a midwestern mall. Not what I went to college to do. I determined for myself that after the holiday season, during which I'd been made a temporary manager, I would either move up in the company or move on to something more profitable.
I began putting out feelers and was offered a full-time position with another retailer. At the same time, a friend from school approached me about promoting his dance studio and helping him with managerial and administrative duties. I accepted the somewhat riskier position at the studio, since it had been doing well, they were expanding into a larger studio space, and desperately lacked design and promotional intuition.
The pay was going to be much better than anything I'd gotten at the mall. I had a budget planned out that would let me pay down my credit card debt while not depriving my closet or stomach. The next year was going to be good. I signed a lease on my new apartment based on this projected income. I planned to pay up front for my vacation to Florida last month as well as be able to afford one or two trips to visit The Writer in NYC during his internship this summer.
I received my first paycheck. The day I was set to receive my second check, which also happened to be a week before flying to Florida, my friend/boss asked me to meet for coffee. I knew that things in his personal life had been on a downward slope and I admit I'd feared the worst for the studio. The realization that perhaps this situation had become less secure had hit me midweek and I'd casually begun perusing Monster.com. Sure enough, he sat down and confessed that the studio may be closing and, in any event, they were unable to continue paying me.
I rushed to The Writer's house, which is where I'd been heading when I'd stopped for coffee in the first place, thankfully. I cried. My beautiful plan lay in ruins.
Thankfully, I had also been working at the attached fitness center as part of the deal, and would still have that income. The dance studio owner felt bad about letting me down and promised to continue paying half of my check from his own pocket. I never bothered to plan on seeing another dime from them. I was right. Since returning from Florida, I've received neither assignments nor payments from them.
I bear the owner no ill will. I know he would've kept me if he could, but his good intentions don't diminish the financial blow that I took. I lost nearly 40% of my income because of mistakes he and his partner made in their dealings with clients before I came on board. I've been searching, but nothing suitable has come up. Compared to what I thought I'd have from this job, this is hell.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Day 7: Someone Who Has Made Your Life Worth Living For
I think the only one that can make your life worth living for is YOU. I have been guilty in the past of making my life about someone else, of letting the dreams of someone else propel my direction. Nearly every time, that person has let me down. People fail. It's a fact of life. I know from my failures that they are hard enough to recuperate from on my own. Imagine if someone based their whole self-worthiness on me. My failure would affect them exponentially more than it affected me. Each person on earth is born an individual and that individuality makes them worth living for. No one else can uncover or live up their potential the way they can. They owe it to themselves. I owe it to myself.
There are and have been many inspiring people in my life. They have helped me grow into the self-realization that I am worth it. My high school voice teacher inspired me to be different, encouraged me to expand my talent, even though the other kids didn't like my voice because I didn't sound like a pop star. In college, my academic advisor encouraged me to follow my dream in whatever form it took.
The Writer is a constant and current encouragement and motivation. He's always encouraging me to aim higher. It's comforting to know that I have a man in my life who wants me to come into my potential and be successful and fulfilled, not just wait around catering to him. I'm so thankful for him. Too easily, I let my confidence slip. I won't go into the researched differences between men and women and the way they handle success and achievement, but The Writer and I certainly fit our gender roles when it comes to that area.
It always helps to be believed in, but no one can believe in yourself for you.
There are and have been many inspiring people in my life. They have helped me grow into the self-realization that I am worth it. My high school voice teacher inspired me to be different, encouraged me to expand my talent, even though the other kids didn't like my voice because I didn't sound like a pop star. In college, my academic advisor encouraged me to follow my dream in whatever form it took.
The Writer is a constant and current encouragement and motivation. He's always encouraging me to aim higher. It's comforting to know that I have a man in my life who wants me to come into my potential and be successful and fulfilled, not just wait around catering to him. I'm so thankful for him. Too easily, I let my confidence slip. I won't go into the researched differences between men and women and the way they handle success and achievement, but The Writer and I certainly fit our gender roles when it comes to that area.
It always helps to be believed in, but no one can believe in yourself for you.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Day 6: Something You Hope You Never Have to Do
There are plenty of things I hope I never have to do. Today, I'm feeling more like a list than a paragraph.
1. I hope I never have to eat red meat again.
2. I hope I never have to swim in a swamp.
3. I hope I never have to tell my family that I'm pregnant if I'm not married first.
4. I hope I never have to live apart from the one I love for too long.
5. I hope I never have to have the flu again.
6. I hope I never have to ride in an ambulance.
7. I hope I never have to rebuild my credit score and financial plan again.
8. I hope I never have to go to court, unless it's for something good like adopting a baby.
9. I hope I never have to dye my hair blonde.
10. I hope I never have to lose a limb.
1. I hope I never have to eat red meat again.
2. I hope I never have to swim in a swamp.
3. I hope I never have to tell my family that I'm pregnant if I'm not married first.
4. I hope I never have to live apart from the one I love for too long.
5. I hope I never have to have the flu again.
6. I hope I never have to ride in an ambulance.
7. I hope I never have to rebuild my credit score and financial plan again.
8. I hope I never have to go to court, unless it's for something good like adopting a baby.
9. I hope I never have to dye my hair blonde.
10. I hope I never have to lose a limb.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Day 5: Something You Hope to Do In Your Lifetime
I while ago, I made myself a promise. I promised that my daughter(s), if/when I have them, will know that they are beautiful. I promised to do everything in my power to raise my children, girls or boys, to be literate, elegant, and confident individuals.
I don't think parenting is easy. As more and more of my friends begin having kids, the more slack I learn to cut my own parents. I think everybody says at some point that they are not going to raise their children the way their parents raised them. I was one of those people, for sure. In a recent Huffington Post article, Jennifer Edwards describes herself as one of these moms, yet she found herself resorting to some of her mother's more conservative rules as a way to combat her son's diagnosis of ADD. I was raised in a conservative environment, not unlike Edwards, and sometimes felt excluded from my group of peers because of a lack of common entertainment experience, I learned to love reading, crafts, being outdoors, and animal life. I also had an advantage over my cartoon-raised peers when I entered first grade already reading and graduated from college a semester shy of four years when many were graduating in five or more years. All this to say, my parents did something right.
There are still things I plan to do differently. I wish that, when I was younger, I'd been told that I was cute or pretty more. I know it sounds shallow, but I grew up craving that. I sought male attention because I wanted to know that someone thought I was beautiful. This wasn't right. Bad things happen when girls seek out boys to boost their self-esteem, as many, many people know. I don't want my daughters to feel that way. I want them to know that any boy they look twice at better be worthy of their affection, because they deserve to be treated like ladies. My sons will, in turn, will know to be polite and respectful. I will learn to pick my battles. My parents were very strict when it came to the music I listened to. While I realize that this category is close to TV watching in that it is a form of media and can subconsciously convey ideas, I don't see myself limiting my children to Christian music only, as my parents did for me.
I hope to raise healthy, happy kids in a home with loving parents who have a healthy relationship with each other. I will do my best, just as my parents did their best to raise me. There are so many children growing up in broken homes, in inadequate public education, on a fast food diet and cartoons, that if I can contribute even a small bit to the future of this country and the world, I would consider myself successful.
I don't think parenting is easy. As more and more of my friends begin having kids, the more slack I learn to cut my own parents. I think everybody says at some point that they are not going to raise their children the way their parents raised them. I was one of those people, for sure. In a recent Huffington Post article, Jennifer Edwards describes herself as one of these moms, yet she found herself resorting to some of her mother's more conservative rules as a way to combat her son's diagnosis of ADD. I was raised in a conservative environment, not unlike Edwards, and sometimes felt excluded from my group of peers because of a lack of common entertainment experience, I learned to love reading, crafts, being outdoors, and animal life. I also had an advantage over my cartoon-raised peers when I entered first grade already reading and graduated from college a semester shy of four years when many were graduating in five or more years. All this to say, my parents did something right.
There are still things I plan to do differently. I wish that, when I was younger, I'd been told that I was cute or pretty more. I know it sounds shallow, but I grew up craving that. I sought male attention because I wanted to know that someone thought I was beautiful. This wasn't right. Bad things happen when girls seek out boys to boost their self-esteem, as many, many people know. I don't want my daughters to feel that way. I want them to know that any boy they look twice at better be worthy of their affection, because they deserve to be treated like ladies. My sons will, in turn, will know to be polite and respectful. I will learn to pick my battles. My parents were very strict when it came to the music I listened to. While I realize that this category is close to TV watching in that it is a form of media and can subconsciously convey ideas, I don't see myself limiting my children to Christian music only, as my parents did for me.
I hope to raise healthy, happy kids in a home with loving parents who have a healthy relationship with each other. I will do my best, just as my parents did their best to raise me. There are so many children growing up in broken homes, in inadequate public education, on a fast food diet and cartoons, that if I can contribute even a small bit to the future of this country and the world, I would consider myself successful.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Day 4: Something You Have To Forgive Someone For
It is quite possible that I've been holding a lifelong grudge. When I was younger, I wasn't upset about the actions of this particular person but, as I grew older and came into a more complete realization about what they had done, the anger, hurt, and bitterness boiled over. I alternately wanted to find them and beg for their explanation, hoping that it hadn't been done with the malice I sometimes imagined. Sometimes I wanted to find them simply to offer them my middle finger as thanks for what I see as the most awful form of betrayal possible. I wanted to tell them that they made it hard for me to trust people, because if they'd left me, who wouldn't? I wanted to ask the questions that I may never know the answers too, answers that most kids grow up knowing even though they never have to ask.
They never have to ask because the woman who raised them is the same woman who gave birth to them. The woman who gave birth to me left the hospital that I was born in one to three days afterwards without me. I haven't seen her since.
I spent the first seven months of my life in the foster care system before being adopted. As much drama as my life has held, I am thankful for the husband and wife I grew up knowing as Mom and Dad. They raised me to be an independent person, to do right by everyone, to care about others more than myself, and to work hard. I have a great relationship with them and love them very much but I can't help the questions.
I have gone through periods of extreme bitterness about my adoption. I've been angry. I've been sad. I've cried for someone I've never known. I've resented her for her decision, even though I don't know the real reasons behind it.
I've had to forgive her.
Someday, I may get to ask all those questions that I don't know the answers to. Until then, I have to choose to forgive. Harboring bitterness will only undo all the good things I've learned over the years and then there would be no good that's come of the situation.
They never have to ask because the woman who raised them is the same woman who gave birth to them. The woman who gave birth to me left the hospital that I was born in one to three days afterwards without me. I haven't seen her since.
I spent the first seven months of my life in the foster care system before being adopted. As much drama as my life has held, I am thankful for the husband and wife I grew up knowing as Mom and Dad. They raised me to be an independent person, to do right by everyone, to care about others more than myself, and to work hard. I have a great relationship with them and love them very much but I can't help the questions.
I have gone through periods of extreme bitterness about my adoption. I've been angry. I've been sad. I've cried for someone I've never known. I've resented her for her decision, even though I don't know the real reasons behind it.
I've had to forgive her.
Someday, I may get to ask all those questions that I don't know the answers to. Until then, I have to choose to forgive. Harboring bitterness will only undo all the good things I've learned over the years and then there would be no good that's come of the situation.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Day 3: Something You Have to Forgive Yourself For
In the movie version of the musical Rent, the character of Mimi sings one of my favorite few lines:
The heart may freeze
Or it can burn
The pain will ease
If I can learn
There is no future
There is no past
I live each moment
As my last
There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret
Or life is yours to miss
I relate to this because I try my best to live without regret. Not that I never do anything wrong, oh no, I make wrong decisions, I hurt people's feelings, I spend unwisely. Most of the time, I realize my fault and try to make it better. I make an honest effort. It doesn't always, or even usually, turn things back to the way they used to be, but I have to let them go.
I have to forgive myself every day.
So, when thinking back, I don't feel like there's anything in particular that I still need to forgive myself for. Everything that I've done in the past has made me who I am today. I can't change things that happened even a second ago, so why waste energy dwelling on the wrong that may have come from them? Prolonged regret is a useless feeling. Learning from the lessons of a negative experience will do much more to shape you into a healthy and wise individual than sitting on your couch with a box of Kleenex's feeling sorry about what you could've, should've, or would've done.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Day 2: Something You Love About Yourself
More than one person has called me crazy over the years. Wait! Keep reading! I know you must be thinking that this girl has to be crazy if being crazy is something that she loves about herself. I'm usually called such things while someone is rolling on the floor laughing.
I love making people laugh. I love that I CAN make people laugh.
I think the first time someone told me I was funny was in first grade. Actually, they told me I used to be funny, and asked what had happened to me. It was a very deep conversation for first graders. My early years in school did a number on me. I was an only child suddenly in the midst of a HUGE group of my peers everyday for eight hours. I entered first grade after being home-schooled in Kindergarten, already knowing how to read (this was unusual). These things made me a little bit of a loner, but I'm over it.
In high school and college, I got to explore my more dramatic side through art and theatre. It must have been then that the quirkiness started to come back out in me. I even joined an improv comedy troupe for a few months. People said I was good and the group begged me to stay, but the social implications and general sucky-ness of the other members sent me on my way. Shallow? Maybe, but the past is the past and I probably thought tequila was a good idea at the time, too.
I think one of the most important qualities when evaluating whether or not someone is a good fit to your life is whether or not they can make you laugh. All of my bestest friends and I do this. The Writer makes me cry with laughter and he laughs too. I love all of it. I love saying those outrageous things that people don't expect. I love not taking myself too seriously (most of the time) because people screwing up is funny. And, let's face it, we've all pulled on the door when all it needed was a push, or tried to go in the automatic exit door at the grocery store, only to realize it was the exit seconds before you ran right into it. *sheepishly raises hand*
If you can laugh at yourself, others will laugh with you. Laughter really is the best medicine!
I love making people laugh. I love that I CAN make people laugh.
I think the first time someone told me I was funny was in first grade. Actually, they told me I used to be funny, and asked what had happened to me. It was a very deep conversation for first graders. My early years in school did a number on me. I was an only child suddenly in the midst of a HUGE group of my peers everyday for eight hours. I entered first grade after being home-schooled in Kindergarten, already knowing how to read (this was unusual). These things made me a little bit of a loner, but I'm over it.
In high school and college, I got to explore my more dramatic side through art and theatre. It must have been then that the quirkiness started to come back out in me. I even joined an improv comedy troupe for a few months. People said I was good and the group begged me to stay, but the social implications and general sucky-ness of the other members sent me on my way. Shallow? Maybe, but the past is the past and I probably thought tequila was a good idea at the time, too.
I think one of the most important qualities when evaluating whether or not someone is a good fit to your life is whether or not they can make you laugh. All of my bestest friends and I do this. The Writer makes me cry with laughter and he laughs too. I love all of it. I love saying those outrageous things that people don't expect. I love not taking myself too seriously (most of the time) because people screwing up is funny. And, let's face it, we've all pulled on the door when all it needed was a push, or tried to go in the automatic exit door at the grocery store, only to realize it was the exit seconds before you ran right into it. *sheepishly raises hand*
If you can laugh at yourself, others will laugh with you. Laughter really is the best medicine!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Day 1: Something You Hate About Yourself
Something that has become increasingly apparent in the recent months and something that I never thought I'd say about myself is that I lack self-confidence. It isn't something that plagues me all the time but when it does, it's crushing. I consider myself a confident person. I am unafraid to speak up or offer my opinion, but when it comes to my career...yeesh, I need some help.
I first realized this fault a few months ago when I knew that it was time to move on from my job in retail. I began scouring the internet for job postings related to my degree. It didn't take me long to realize that I didn't feel qualified for many of the positions that wanted someone with my type of degree. It was then that the threads of self-doubt began to wrap themselves around me. I went to what most people would call "a good school". I certainly paid for "a good education", however, I wouldn't say that a good education is what came of it all.
I wasn't the best student and I regret that. I had decent grades, but I could've put so much more into my classes. I started realizing my own fault when I started looking for a career, wondering if I would have a clearer direction if I had given more to my classes or chosen a different major. This insecurity, this doubt in my own abilities, makes searching for a job difficult. I can send my resumes in to as many people as I want and for as high a position as I could imagine, but always with the fear that I will be hired (or won't be hired) and that I won't be able to perform to their expectations.
I accepted a mediocre job yesterday. Today, I am calling to rescind my acceptance. Its not the best I can do. I could possibly, and even probably, be successful at it, but if I think through the situation with confidence, it isn't where I need to be. It doesn't provide the security that I need, in fact, the few possible pros don't even come close to outweighing the potentially devastating cons.
I want to procede in my job search with confidence. I need to. I want to get out of the Midwest after this year is over, and I want a career that will propel me in that direction. All I need is the confidence to get that job.
I first realized this fault a few months ago when I knew that it was time to move on from my job in retail. I began scouring the internet for job postings related to my degree. It didn't take me long to realize that I didn't feel qualified for many of the positions that wanted someone with my type of degree. It was then that the threads of self-doubt began to wrap themselves around me. I went to what most people would call "a good school". I certainly paid for "a good education", however, I wouldn't say that a good education is what came of it all.
I wasn't the best student and I regret that. I had decent grades, but I could've put so much more into my classes. I started realizing my own fault when I started looking for a career, wondering if I would have a clearer direction if I had given more to my classes or chosen a different major. This insecurity, this doubt in my own abilities, makes searching for a job difficult. I can send my resumes in to as many people as I want and for as high a position as I could imagine, but always with the fear that I will be hired (or won't be hired) and that I won't be able to perform to their expectations.
I accepted a mediocre job yesterday. Today, I am calling to rescind my acceptance. Its not the best I can do. I could possibly, and even probably, be successful at it, but if I think through the situation with confidence, it isn't where I need to be. It doesn't provide the security that I need, in fact, the few possible pros don't even come close to outweighing the potentially devastating cons.
I want to procede in my job search with confidence. I need to. I want to get out of the Midwest after this year is over, and I want a career that will propel me in that direction. All I need is the confidence to get that job.
Friday, April 1, 2011
April Fools
I know that today is supposed to be the first day of the 30 Days of Truth project, but it seems outlandish to begin such a project on April 1st, when so few things are truthful.
I am feeling like crap today. I was oddly ill at work today and have come up with some possible explanations.
a) Dinner didn't agree with me last night: Unlikely, since I didn't feel sick until after I'd been awake for a while this morning
b) Too much coffee: Maybe? I did feel disinclined to drink my coffee, but didn't actually consume an abnormal amount
c) I have the flu: Unlikely, since I feel fine otherwise
d) I'm pregnant: Probably unlikely. Not as unlikely as I'd like.
e) I overexerted myself during my workout: Quite possible, since I haven't done a darn thing in almost two weeks. Maybe not, though, I've never been a puker when it comes to working out.
I'm hoping my body is playing a mean April Fool's joke on me and that it's not d).
I am feeling like crap today. I was oddly ill at work today and have come up with some possible explanations.
a) Dinner didn't agree with me last night: Unlikely, since I didn't feel sick until after I'd been awake for a while this morning
b) Too much coffee: Maybe? I did feel disinclined to drink my coffee, but didn't actually consume an abnormal amount
c) I have the flu: Unlikely, since I feel fine otherwise
d) I'm pregnant: Probably unlikely. Not as unlikely as I'd like.
e) I overexerted myself during my workout: Quite possible, since I haven't done a darn thing in almost two weeks. Maybe not, though, I've never been a puker when it comes to working out.
I'm hoping my body is playing a mean April Fool's joke on me and that it's not d).
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
