Year In a List

So as the year is closing I can’t help but feel a bit reflective.  And in this spirit of reflection I thought I would make a list, not unlike the one I made for my last birthday. So here it is, my 2011…

I made lots of new friends.

A play I wrote was produced thanks to an amazing friend.

I cried a lot.

I laughed more.

Wore a canary yellow dress.

I moved into an apartment with dudes!

Started writing my Thesis.

Taught my first undergraduate class. 

Watched some good movies.

Watched some painfully bad movies.

Started using mass transit on a regular basis.

Lost a very dear friend.

Wrote some bad poetry.

Had a crush or two.

Drank more than one glass of wine.

Danced some, not nearly enough.

Made some bad decisions.

Said goodbye to my twenties.

On occasion stopped and smelt a rose or two.

Fixed a Fridge.

And started a Blog!

Stuffed Turkey!

I have fallen victim to one of the more obscene of holiday traditions. One that I am sure has been occurring in spades all across this great nation of ours.

That’s right, I have been eating way too much. I have over indulged in ways that should be outlawed. I’ve had so many sweets that Buddy the Elf himself would get a tummy ache. And don’t get me started on the cheese consumption.

It really is an absurd thing, the way we eat, and eat and eat during this time of year. There is something truly disturbing about it. I find myself feeling guilty about the decadence, especially when so many go without.

I can’t help but think that if we were a little less indulgent, and a little more mindful of what we are sticking in our face, that we would feel better during the holiday season. And if we felt better, we could enjoy each other more.  After all the holidays are stressful enough without poisoning our systems with toxic foods.

Of course this is coming from a person who has saturated her body with seasonal treats, and is sick of them. Come next year when this time rolls around, I could forget how ill I’m feeling now and happily jump back into the holiday binge once again.

But until then, I think I need to eat a salad.

Make It Work!

I’m turning into my Dad.

I have said it before, but it’s worth repeating. I’ve known this for a while now. I have been aware for years that I have my Dad’s offbeat sense of humor, and that I get anxious in big crowds the same way he does. We both love a weird news story. And every time I find myself watching the discovery channel I know it’s because of his influence.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when I found myself fixing the fridge in our apartment. We noticed sometime last week that the though the freezer part was still working, the fridge itself was lukewarm at best. After having to throw out a carton of eggs and pouring foul smelling milk down the drain, it was clear that something had to be done. I contacted my parents and they suggested defrosting it. One of my roommates and I did that (so we thought). Unfortunately the appliance still was not working. We feared we were going to have to call a repairman and being broke grad students, this was not a pleasant option.

The next morning I decided to look for local repair guys online, but instead of doing that, almost unconsciously, I typed “how to fix your fridge” into Google. I suddenly had a vision of my dad with an owner’s manual sprawled in front of him while he pieced some poor ill working thing together.

After doing some research I unplugged the fridge and inspected the thing from top to bottom. I checked its coils and located its condenser (the condenser is enclosed so there was really nothing I could do but locate it). 

And then I discovered the problem. Turns out that we only did a surface defrost, the freaken thing was frozen from inside out. So I did a major defrost number two and that did the trick.

Now I know it was an easy fix, but there was something rather empowering about realizing that I had a bit of control over the machines around me. And I know that one has to be careful with DIY projects, I have no desire to cut myself open, or electrocute myself. But I have to say I’m so glad that I grew up in a household where working with your hands was valued. 

Even more important however, is the feeling I got while I was giving the fridge its diagnostic tests. I felt like my dad, and the connection to my lineage was lovely.

Perspective

A man’s growth is seen in the successive choirs of his friends.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have always enjoyed this quote and recently I had an experience that makes it fill particularly poignant.

A friend came to visit me recently, and it gave me some perspective. We were little girls together and though we don’t see each other nearly enough anymore, being around her makes me feel like I am home.

Now, I know that I have a problem with needing affirmation, and believe I am working on it.  However, I have to say that this friend of mine is so awesome, she travels the world and she embraces her life in a way that I can only describe as living in Technicolor. So when she does approve of any aspect of my life I can’t help but feel happy.

When she told me she would be passing through, I was excited, but nervous too. I wanted to show her I was doing well. I wanted her to approve of my life here. I wanted to show her a good time, the way she always has when I have visited her.

Truth is I had nothing to worry about. She was actually proud of me! She told me how impressed she was that I was living in my apartment and doing the mass transit thing. She told me “these are not baby steps”. And to be fair she would know, she has seen me at some of my darkest most anxious hours.

It was such a gift for her to meet some of the wonderful people I hang with out here, and she got to explore my hood. I would have loved for her to be here longer, to get to really know some of the people who fill my heart and days with their love and support, but alas she was only her for a brief stay. But short or not, I was grateful for it.

It’s hard to see your own life with objectivity, but seeing my growth through her eyes was a beautiful thing.  I hope she sees how amazing she is through mine.

No Body is an Object

I was chilling with some girl friends of my mine and we were watching music videos.  And yes I still watch music videos, in fact for your information I am the same age as MTV, so that makes it perfectly reasonable that I would enjoy the occasional video (not that they play music videos anymore, but that is a separate issue) So were watching them and my friend says to me “YOU will like this video, all the men are being objectified”

This struck me as odd; I’m not sure where I got the reputation that I would enjoy seeing men objectified. But somewhere along the line I had, and that was not a great feeling.

Yes I do consider myself a feminist. Yes I do see the flaws in the constant barrage of unfair, subservient or down right sexist images we get of women on a daily basis.  I think that it is sad that just because you align yourself with these causes, that you are then thought to be a man hater, or that you enjoy seeing men put in the same compromising position that women for years have been unjustly put in.

Just swinging the pendulum in the opposite direction is not the answer. I understand that sometimes it is interesting to see things in ways we have not seen them before. Turn in on its head so that we can be educated.  That’s cool, and useful.

But honestly I really don’t think objectifying any human is something to be excited about. It really doesn’t help any movement for equality. 

Gathering Fruit

“Why not go out on a limb? Isn't that where the fruit is?" - Frank Scully

This quote is a great reminder to me.

I think that sometimes we have to take risks. It’s not easy. It is scary. But it really can be worth it.

Now to be fair, I am not known for my risk taking abilities. No, I am more known for my caution, and perpetual fear of everything, including my own shadow.

But to live in that constant state of fear is no good. The truth is, life is so much better when you take risks. Now I am not talking about skydiving or bungee cord jumping (although I’m sure they are both extremely exhilarating) No I’m talking more about the personal kind. The ones were you take a chance on yourself or you make yourself vulnerable in order to grow and change. Those kinds of risks are perhaps the most frightening. But they also can be the most rewarding. Can you get hurt? Of course you can, or it would not be a risk! But at the end of the day I would rather be the person who gave it a shot, then the person who always is wondering what might have been.

Achiever Achiever

I have come to the conclusion that I am just an achiever.

What does this mean? I am so glad you asked! It means that I don’t really fall into the category of over achiever, which is far too lofty a description for anything I do. Nor would I consider myself an underachiever, because really, I did manage by some strange magic that is beyond me, to have garnered a (mind you very humble) amount of creative and academic success in my life. However when put in relation to the accomplishments of others, including those I currently spend many of my graduate school hours with, I can’t help but notice my own lack of awesome. Not a total lack of awesome, just a slightly less amount when put in relationship to other peoples awesome.

Perhaps the problem is right there! Perhaps our whole system of underachieving vs. overachieving is flawed do to the fact that it is completely contingent on its comparison to others.

It may be a wiser then to simply focus on my individual accomplishments rather than on how they stand up to what others are doing.

Truly I think I will start seeing myself as an achiever achiever, which takes the other people out of the equation altogether. No longer under or over anyone else!

Just me the achiever achiever. I like it.

We Are Fragile

Our lives are such precious, temporary things. It’s so easy to forget how truly fragile we are as we muddle through our day-to-day lives. It is easy to get wrapped up in our own personal anxieties. When we do we forget to appreciate the good in our life. We fail to acknowledge the people around us who make our life richer and more beautiful.

It often takes a tragedy to shake us from our narrow focus, our selfish lives. I can’t help but think how much better our lives would be, if we remember to take a little bit of time every day to acknowledge how grateful we are for our loved ones. To say a prayer (if one is of the praying type) of thanks for the friends and family that surround us. Not because we are spurred by some tragedy, but simply because it’s part of the ritual that makes us whole.

I encourage you all to not take for granted the good people in your life. Tell them right now how much they mean to you, hug them, let them know they are loved.  When you part with them, treat it as though you may never see them again, because truth is, you may not.

Grow Up Already!

Maturity is a weird concept.

I suppose I always thought that I would hit a certain point and I would just be mature.  People who knew me would be like “who her, yeah she is a complete and total adult, nothing childlike about her”.

That’s the thing though; maturity isn’t something that happens over night. It’s one of those hard-earned gifts that we get over time and experience. Yet I feel like I should be more responsible, more grown up than I actually am. Perhaps I naively thought that as soon as I turned thirty I would shed all the bad decision making of my twenties, and step into a more settled down version of myself.

Who knows, maybe I am more mature than I was this time last year. And I know that I have a greater insight into myself than I ever had. I guess the changes, the maturity, the growth; it’s all just very incremental. It didn’t happen in one big swoop as I thought it would, but rather it has been slowly creeping up on me.

That’s harder to see though isn’t it?

Perhaps maturity is not instantly being able to make the right decisions all the time. Perhaps it’s the ability to stop making the really stupid ones a little less.

At least that’s what I am going in order to sleep at night.

A Little Bit of This and That

Life is very busy right now. And there are so many new things happening that I occasionally forget to breath.

That said, I remain cautiously hopeful a about my life. After all I finally got to move into an apartment (something that was so scary to me a couple of months ago). And I like my roommates, of course we are still in the honeymoon period, and we may start to drive each other mad, but I am trying to not focas on that, rather I am trying to be grateful for the now.

I am also co-teaching a class as a graduate teaching assistant. It’s overwhelming and scary sometimes, but I feel like I am learning so much!

I have also been taking the bus to school. Yep you heard me; I am facing my fear of mass transit head on. It seems silly but I can't help but feel pretty proud of myself.

So all in all I am doing lots of new and challenging things. And that is a good. Of course I confront my insecurities and uncertainty about my self daily, but every time I am able to tell that self-critic to step down, I feel a bit stronger. And isn’t that what being in transit is all about, moving forward little by little step by step to get to where you need to go? 

Life is a Pitch

I’m still not okay with curve balls.

This is a shame because very often life throws them. There are so many variables in life, weather, traffic jams, and other people’s temperaments; these are the things that can twist up even the best-laid plans. I admire the individuals who can quickly adapt to these elements. Individuals who can recalibrate in order to adjust to the new direction they are now headed.

I have never really been that kind of person. If I plan for a certain things in my head that’s how it’s going to be, how it should be. When these plans change in ways that are out of my control, I become extremely worked up and anxious. I can get emotional, prone to yelling and/or crying, and even stress myself into a panic attack. It’s not the most mature way to deal with the changing of plans. Especially since things typically don’t turn out as bad as I think the will.

So that’s something I want to work on. Learning to adapt. I want to be the kind of person who goes with the flow, or problems solves, whatever the case calls for. 

I’m not exactly sure how to do it, but I want to learn to deal with curve balls like a pro!

Feeling Grateful

When I turned sixteen my parents gave me a surprise party.  And no, it was not one of those elaborate spectacles that you see on “reality” television programs with the spoiled teenagers and the parents who have more money than sense. It was however a pivotal time in my young life because of the fact that all these people, friends and family both, had took the time to come to a party for me. It had never occurred to me that so many people actually cared enough about me to congregate in my honor. It was incredibly moving and extremely overwhelming.

And now, I once again find myself touched and overwhelmed by the show of love from the people in my life.  It’s funny how I sometimes trick myself into thinking I am alone, all by myself in a big scary world. But the thing is nothing could be farther from the truth. Every time I begin a new chapter in my life, I am moved to discover how many people are willing to help me fill the pages. And I am also surprised about how willing I am to help fill the pages of the chapters of others. It’s a strange feeling, but good too, to know that I am part of a community of people. My life is intertwined with others, and that is huge.

Perhaps it comes down to the fact that I still struggle with feelings of worthiness. Maybe that is why I am consistently surprised that so many good people would want me to be apart of their life. I can’t help but feel like that little sixteen year old when I realize, to my amazement, that I have friends and family who are willing to encourage me as I embark on new adventures and new transitions.

Slowly but surely however, I am learning not to overanalyze these things, but instead to simply be grateful for the wonderful people who choose to let their paths intersect with mine. And that is a beautiful thing.

Life in the Not So Fast Lane

As a born and raised southern Californian, it is generally assumed that wanting to be behind the wheel of a car is built into your DNA. I, coming from a long line of auto-mechanics and car enthusiasts, would seem even more pre-disposed to being ecstatic about driving.

However, one of my dear friends has nicknamed me her favorite little anomaly. And my fear of driving, once again, proves this title to be a well suited one.

It’s not that I don’t drive. In fact when I am in my small hometown, I drive quite a bit. Of course the place of my birth is a somewhat rural, and not heavily populated, which makes driving significantly less anxiety provoking. I also drove a lot when I was lived in Colorado, on highly congested freeways no less. I did it, because I had to, and I did it well. I am not a bad driver, just a nervous one, and that is possibly even more dangerous. The fear of driving could probably be traced back to the fateful day I totaled my mother’s car when I was seventeen. Though I was scared to drive even before that, so it could also be argued that I would not have got in the accident at all had I not been so nervous behind the wheel in the first place. I don’t know it could be on of those a chicken first vs. Egg first situation that we will never be able to solve.

After I moved home from Colorado I reverted back to my old ways of avoiding the freeways, because well, I could. There was no a huge needs to get on the freeway if I did not want to. But the thing about it is, I allowed myself to reinforce my fear. Reinforcing ones fear only makes it swell and grow until it becomes a super big monster to deal with.

And that is exactly what happened. Now I am living car-less in a big city. And though it is not impossible to get around, it does pose some challenges. Especially when compounded with my anxiety regarding using mass transit.

But I detest living in fear. I also detest always leaning on others for rides. Dependency can play head trips on a person and makes one feel less-than. There has been many times where I opted out of things because I did not want to find a ride and inconvenience someone. Of course what I was opting out of was usually something for another friend that I felt horrible I was missing. My friends are important to me, and I do want to show my support when I can, but I also don’t want to rely so much on them… so that is the double edge sword I have been living with for years.

I recently saw a news story about a group of women who lived in a country where it was illegal for them to drive. There was a day that they decided to drive as a sign of protest. This struck me. One because they were being denied a privilege and freedom that I seem so unwilling to partake in, but also because well, I was living under a fake law in my head that was keeping me from moving forward.

So this summer I decided to make a move, albeit a small one, in the direction to of my independence. For the first time since I was in high school, I drove on the stretch of freeway that links my hometown and the next city over. I did fine, though I was a bit frazzled by the end of it. I was only on the freeway for thirty minutes, a mere baby step. But baby steps can be momentous things, especially when they are the first steps. It was just one more push out of the very narrow parameters of my personal comfort zone. My hope is the more I push myself the easier it will become over time, and that is definitely worth the discomfort right now.

                                                                              

A Chunk of Life in a List

In a little over a month I will be starting a new decade. I am not freaking out as much as I thought I would considering that I am forever leaving my twenties. But that said, being on the cusp of the new age has made me rather reflective. So I decided to do a sum up of pivotal, life changing, or worth mentioning events that have defined this chapter of my (relatively speaking) young life.  They are in no particular order, and are not sorted by relevance; I will leave it to you dear readers to interpret the importance of events for yourselves.

My uncle gave me a car (RIP sweet Sadie)

I worked as a nanny in Colorado

I was around for my grandma T’s and Grandpa Glenn’s last days

Was in the room when my Grandpa breathed his last breath.

I discovered I liked sweet potatoes

Perhaps I did not conquer my demons I did however look more than a few of them in the eye, and acknowledged their existence (which I hear is half the battle)

I visited my Grandma Chris when she lived in Lincoln Nebraska.

I stood up in two weddings once as a bridesmaid (for one of my dear friends) and once as a maid of honor (for my sister) for women that I love dearly.

Traveled to San Fransico, San Lois Obispo, Washington D.C. and Boston  (all at different times)

Took some Modern Dance classes.

Fell in love.

Survived my first broken heart.

Learned how to breath through a panic attack.

Made lots of mistakes.

Worked a job where I cleaned tanning beds.

Played parts as an actor that was against type.

Earned an associates degree.

Won some awards for writing.

Got type cast as an actor.

Earned a bachelor degree.

Started a short-lived theatre troupe.

Discovered I was not an actor.

Realized my heart was in writing.

Took an oil painting class.

Made more than one drunken text.

Burned some bridges (hopefully learned something in the process)

Made some friends that are total lifetime keepers.

Met some people who are not keepers.

Gained nearly a hundred pounds.

Lost over sixty of those pounds.

Became a Vegetarian.

Worked as a Substitute teacher.

Realized that even though I was not that much older than them, teenagers no longer thought I was cool.

Decided to switch to being a pescatarian.

Discovered that I could like whatever music I wanted to like without caring what my peers thought of me.

Kissed more than my share of frogs (none of whom turned to princes but lets face it,   

                                                              sometimes frogs are good kissers)

Started graduate school.

Learned to like myself better than when I was nineteen.

So there you have it, my twenties in a brief list format.  I hear that our self-awareness deepens in our thirties and we are more settled and comfortable in our skin. I hope that is true!

                                                                              

Body Talk

So this is not a new topic.  it’s one that has been addressed by many a smart person, and will continue to be addressed as long as the problem persists. That said I wanted to put in my two scents in, because it is something I struggle with myself a great deal.  

It’s the whole body image thing. And perhaps this has been exacerbated by the fact that I just had my wisdom teeth pulled and my face has swollen three sizes, and because of this I now have a greater appreciation for how my face looks when it’s not post surgery puffy.  

Now I know there are men who struggle with this issue too, and I respect that, but for the purposes of this I will speak only from the female perspective, or more specifically my own personal perspective, cause frankly I can’t speak for anyone else.

This is something I have struggled with for many years. After all I grew up next to a sister who would get stopped on the street by strangers so they could ask her “has anyone ever told you that you look like Julie Roberts?”

I, on the other hand, was a short chubby kid with braces who had a great fondness of overalls (yeah I have no explanation for this, but I had many pairs and I loved them)

I honestly think I deserve a metal for surviving puberty next to my sister.

Of course I have come a long way from that teenager who thought that the reflection in the mirror was that of someone who was monstrous and grotesque. I look at myself in a more realistic way, which is good. But that doesn’t mean I don’t struggle.

The truth is I find myself walking a very precarious line because of my situation. I am a person who struggles with weight, not as an esthetic thing, but as a health issue thing. As I have discussed before there is a lot of health issues that run in my family that the access weight compound. Honestly I do best when I don’t obsess on the numbers on the scale or the size of jeans, but rather when I choose to take care of body to make it FEEL better than LOOK better (and by look better I mean make it fit into some subjective idea of what it is suppose to look like according to popular culture)

The thing is this causes a battle in my head. Because honestly I don’t believe everyone has to be a size two to be healthy. I also believe that people who don’t fit into the very narrow idea of beauty are treated unfairly by society. When we look at someone who is morbidly obese it is so easy to judge that person and to see there body as outward sign of there weakness of will, or some sort of lack of morality. And this is an injustice for sure. We have no idea that journey that person has traveled or what their life has looked like.

In the past few years I have gained a greater appreciation for my body. I appreciate that fact that it can walk be up stares, it can hold people I love, and it can dance. And because if this appreciation, I want to honor my body by feeding it well, and showing my love by taking care of it.

But my body does not look like the ones in the magazines. It never will. And I am learning to be okay with that. But sometimes there is a war in my head because of all the images we are fed.

I particularly have a problem with the current trend in music. Now I love a good dirty party song from time to time don’t get me wrong.  But it seems like now a day everyone is trying to out trump each other on how overtly sexual they can be, and how far they can objectify the female body (male and female artists both do this).  It makes me sad.

 I also read an article recently that discussed how a large group of men said they would leave their partner if the gained weight. Now I am not sure how accurate this article was, or how many men (or what type of men they surveyed) But it did make me feel kind of sick. Now I’m not stupid, I know that physical attraction is important in a romantic relationship, but in a real relationship, it should not be the only component. For longevity purposes you better be attracted to who the person is, or it isn’t going to last. To me, if you love them only if the stay a certain size, this is a sign of conditional love, and quite frankly conditional love is not really love at all.

I don’t know if it’s worse than it use to be, I know that women have always been objectified, and that pop culture has always celebrated the superficial. All I know is I think it is time we reclaim our connection with our bodies, and celebrate beauty in individuality. I think it is time we start teaching young girls that who they are, what they think, and what the do is what makes them special, unique and lovely.

I guess I had a lot to say on the subject of positive vs. negative body image, because I am still fighting with it in myself. Some days that insecure teenage girl I was is far closer on my heels than I wish she were.  But I guess that’s the whole thing about being in transit, the only way you can see how far you have come is to acknowledge where you have been.

Some Days

There are days when I don’t like myself very much.

I don’t mean the low self esteem days (although I have those too).  I mean the days that I don’t like the choices I make.  Sometimes I take a good hard look at the person I am and it makes me angry, and disappointed, and I want to be somebody else.  The problem is you can’t take a vacation from you. And if you try to, it usually gets you into more trouble than it’s worth.

There are times when I truly wish I were better than I am. I wish that I were kinder to those around me. More grateful for the things that I have been given in my life. I also wish that I were more responsible, that I would make choices that are good for me, and that don’t hurt those around me.   

But I guess the thing about this wish list it I have the power to make it come true. I can choose to be better the aspects of my life that I find less than stellar.

As for the days, like today, that I am not even close to being all that I can be, well I guess, I just have to move forward, and take days like this as learning experiences.  

The Tooth of the Matter

There is a volcano in my mouth, well two actually.  They have been dormant for many years, and now they have decided to erupt.

Okay they are not volcanoes; they are my impacted wisdom teeth. The two bottom ones to be exact (I had the top natural disasters extracted years ago) But the bottom two where laying quietly in wait, and because they were not doing anything, my dentist advised a few years back, that I just let them be because there was a chance that they would never come in at all.

But here they come with a vengeance, and there is no room for them. When I was a teenager I had lots of expensive (well expensive for my parents) orthodontic work. Because of this I have a nice straight smile, also because of this there is absolutely nowhere for my wisdom teeth to go.

I have been feeling some pressure in my jaw and gums for a while now (like about a year sort of while, so it shows how bad I am about getting this stuff dealt with), but it is only recently that I have noticed sharp bits of teeth pocking through.

I need to deal with it. It hurts and it can actually eventually ruin that pretty orthodontic work that my parents so generously paid for. But I’m scared, I am scared that a regular dentist wont be able to deal with it, and that I will have to go to an oral surgeon. This is particularly frightening because I am pretty phobic of doctors, and I have never been put under. I am also super scared about the price (like I wrote in a previous entry, I am trying to save enough to be in an off campus apartment)

But honestly the longer I put it off, the worse it will get, and the more pain I will suffer from it.

I guess nothing makes me feel like a big baby as cutting teeth.

Thus far...

At the beginning of the summer I had some very lofty goals. And now as I am in the thick of it, I think it’s a good time to take a little inventory to see how I am doing. 

First of I have been working on my health. Been exercising daily (I even do laps around my parents house and I am pretty sure the neighbors think I’m crazy, but my family has lived on this land for generations, if people don’t know we are odd by now they are never going to figure it out!) I have also been eating healthy, and I have even been taking my vitamins!  Most importantly I have not touched a french fry! And you know what I feel pretty good. Now, I know when the stress of the school year begins It will be harder to stay on track, but hopefully this little detox I am doing will carry over at least a little bit.

As for the writing, well, I’m working on it, but not nearly with the fervor that I originally had hoped for.  I have been doing pretty well on keeping up with this blog (and I have reached over 1,000’s views, thank you all for reading!!!!!) I have also worked on some scripts and I have an essay for a contest done (or well a first draft). I have even done some prep work on my thesis.  As for the screenplay I’m working on… well sometimes things scare me and I avoid them.

I also wanted to purge some of my earthly belongings to de-clutter my life… ya that hasn’t happened as of yet, but I will keep you posted.

I have been reconnecting with some old friends, it was not on the list but it should have been. This includes meeting one of my friends new baby daughter (oh my gosh she is so precious) And having a long chat with another inspiring friend who bravely went to an event that she knew an ex would be at (Xena has nothing on this warrior woman!)

So there you have it, my summer thus far. I still have a lot to do, but I am chipping away at it, so at least there is that.

Roll With It!

I’ve been recently contemplating the phrase “roll with the punches”. I have always liked the phrase, but lately I have been analyzing it more in debt.  Perhaps because I am at a point in my life where I feel a bit more vulnerable to the blows that life usually deals. 

I’ve been recently contemplating the power in the ability to roll with the punches.  It is more active way of dealing with things then, for example, “going with the flow” (not that I don’t like that image too, like a little stream flowing over rocks, it’s just that it is a more passive concept to me). Rolling with the punches comes from the boxing world, it is a way of rolling with the punch so that you minimize the impact the blow has to your body, enabling you to ready yourself to throw a punch yourself.

And that’s the thing isn’t it. Life has a tendency to come at us throwing some mean blows. We can’t change that, but we can learn ways to minimize the impact. Of course I’m still learning how to do this. But I think I am getting better at it.

More Thoughts on Happy

As I have stated before, happiness , is something I find at times allusive. It’s not that I want to be a negative person; It is just that tapping into my inner sunshine has never been super easy. And when I am going through some changes or stress it becomes even more difficult to be cheery.

Yet I had a bit of an epiphany the other day. It was on a day that I felt particularly calm and content. It was nice, and I accepted it (Something new for me, in the past when I had these good days I would not trust it, and reject it as a inevitably fleeting occurrence). But on this day I accepted it, knowing full well that it could be temporary state.  And that’s when it hit me. Perhaps true happiness is the awareness that though life has stressful and painful chapters it also can be happy and peaceful ones too. And maybe by holding onto that knowledge, will make those darker times just a little bit easier.  

A Day of Disconnect

Last fall I wrote a short play that dealt with our over use of technology. In fact I would dare to say that often we are so connected to each other, via the cyber world, that we don’t actually connect really with each other.

Today this concept was particularly driven home when I forgot my phone. I went boating with my parents today and as we were driving up the mountain for a day of fun in the sun, I realized that I was phoneless. I was instantly annoyed and anxious. But was it really necessary that I have my phone? I was not expecting any important messages from anyone, nor am I a doctor on call who needs to drop everything to save some poor sick persons life.  There was no real reason that I needed to have my cell on a day trip to the lake.

The great thing is, that after a while the anxiety faded, and I was happy to not have it. I enjoyed being on the lake with my family, a relaxing day without any interruptions. It was really quite liberating.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love being able to get on the net, and I am happy that I have my phone. I don’t plan on giving those things up anytime soon. But I do think occasionally it’s nice to disconnect in order to reconnect. 

Another Gamble

This seems to be the place I go to make my self completely transparent.  I offer myself up to anyone who wants to read, as a way to work through my emotions. It’s a strange practice but one that I don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. So in the spirit of being an emotional exhibitionist, here comes another such entry.

When I was fresh out of high school I moved from my home state to live with strangers and work as a nanny. I had never been away from my grandparents and my parents, and I was terrified.  I also knew that I needed to change my life. My friends had all left for college, my sister had moved to another city so that she could work at the happiest place on earth, and I was left to half heartedly take classes at the local community college. I was extremely depressed in that chapter of my life, and I had become stuck. I knew I was stuck, and I knew that I had to do something extreme to shake myself free. When the opportunity arose to take the job I knew I had to do it. I did not WANT to, but I HAD to. In retrospect I can see that some of the greatest growth of my life occurred during that time. I also know It was one of the times that I felt the most unsure and frightened. But I took a chance on myself and it was so wonderful that I did.

And now it seems that history is repeating itself. I once again find myself stuck. I have lived on campus for the past couple of years (yes, at my age, yes in graduate school), which would be fine, except I am becoming stagnant. And as the theme of this blog suggests, I believe that being in transit is far healthier than being stagnant. When I am living on campus it becomes very easy for me to not confront my fear of mass transit. I always say that I will, but I never do.  So I have decided that next year I am going to live off campus. This serves another purpose too, I am (if all goes well) going to be graduating in the spring. And I want to feel like I am there, ready to get a job, and ready to make a life down in the city. If I am on campus it feels very temporary, like I at any given moment I will have to return to my small hometown.

The flip side to this decision is I am terrified. I am forcing myself out of my comfort zone. There are all these unknown variables that are keeping me up at night. I find myself feeling much the way I did before I moved after high school. I believe that I need to make this step, but I also see the potential for failure, and that can be extremely anxiety provoking.

On a more positive note, I know that who I was then and who I am now are indeed different. Backs then the fear of the unknown use to cause me brutal panic attacks. Now when they come on (because they still do) I am able to recognize them and breathe myself down, before they become out of control. Hurray for progress!

I just hope this next gamble on myself will be as positive for my life and growth as the one from my past that it’s mirroring.     

So... What Do I Think of Me?

Worrying about what others think of you will drive you batty! I should know, I am often way to concerned about what others think about me. Or even worse concerned about what I THINK others are thinking about me. This is particularly problematic because it’s so easy to project our own negative self-crap onto others. I mean there is too often that I feel socially awkward and pathetic, and I know that in those times I believe others see me that way too.

But here is the thing, it's exhausting caring so much about what others think. Especially since we can never really know for sure what is going on in another person’s head.  I mean I guess I could go around asking everyone “so what do you think about me?” but I doubt that would win me any friends.  

I suppose I need to just worry about what I think of me … and work on making it as positive a self image as I can.

No Mas Papa II

All right, so I’m going off the spud again! For those of you who follow, you will remember a while back I went cold turkey on french fries. They are my nutritional leviathans, and they have very little dietary value.

Not only am I going off the potatoes, I am putting a stop to all deep fried things in general (I had some vegetable tempura tonight, and though it was delicious, it has left me feeling less than stellar)

I’m giving up the fried stuff until my birthday in September. Why my birthday you ask? No, I don’t plan on going on a birthday binge! It’s just I’ve decided that I want to do a detox of sorts these next couple months so that I can start out a new age on the right foot.

I want to give myself a birthday gift, and I can’t think of a better present than a healthier me! 

Half Way There

Happy half-year everyone!!!!!!

Okay, so I’m not big of resolutions, new years, half-years, or otherwise.  But I figure the halfway point is as good a time as any to take an inventory of my life, and to take a moment to reflect on what my life has been of late and where it may be heading. I know, heavy stuff.

But I am approaching a birthday that is supposedly one of those big deal ones. I am starting the journey of my thesis (thought technically the thesis thing is culminating next year not this one). And on a sadder note, today marks seven months since a very dear friend of mind was in a fatal car accident. When you lose someone like that it’s hard not to change your perspective on life. It makes me want to live with fullness and purpose because life can be so fleeting. It also makes me want to appreciate the little things, cause your world can change in an instant.

So this is me, on my half year, reflecting a bit on the six months that I have just lived, and taking a moment to think about what I want the next six months will look like.

I wish you all a good and reflective half-year. Let’s do our best to make the most of our next six months.

Musings on Mom

When we are children it’s very easy to view our mothers as a superhuman figure. She is in our young minds, flawless.  Of course by seeing our mothers like this they are bound to disappoint us. After all no one can live up to that level of perfection. 

I have long since put my mom on an unrealistic pedestal. But even now, when I am (at least in theory) a grown up type person, I still have to remind myself that she is in fact human full of emotions and needs just like other humans.

So often my mom puts her needs on the back burner, for mine. When I am having a melt down, she is one of the people who can pull me from the edge  (even if the melt down involves me yelling and making a fuss until I finally get calm). If I am in need of good and insightful advice she is who I go too. With that kind of selflessness, it’s really hard not to take advantage. It’s hard not to just assume that she is tough as nails and here just to take care of me (did I mention I’m an adult)

I guess that’s the thing about the mother child dynamic, its deeply engrained and hard to overcome. And I am not saying that we should (after all I am getting the better end of this bargain) But what I am saying is that I should from time to time crawl out of my own selfishness, and check in with my mom, and see if there is anything I can do for her. After all, it’s the very least I can do for someone who has given so much to me.

Hope... and Prepare

I have this weird reaction to change. I tend to pretend it’s not happening.  What I do is the equivalent of an ostrich putting her head in the sand (by the way that is a myth they actually don’t stick there head in the sand). Nevertheless that’s what I do. But the problem with this is change comes anyways.

I avoid it because its scares me, but the truth is, by facing it, we can often alleviate some of the fear. By arming ourselves with information, we can prepare ourselves. All right, so we can’t prepare ourselves for every possible event, but by facing things we at least feel a little less caught off guard. And that, at least for me, provides some comfort.

Square Peg, Round Hole

For the most part I love being a person in transit. I love the idea of being in change. There is something very profound about evolution.

Of course there is a down side to this. If you in the midst of metamorphosis, it is hard to actually know who you are.  And if you don’t know who you are, than you don’t know where you belong.

My feeling’s that I am an outsider are particularly acute lately. I’m not exactly sure what has brought it on. What I do know is that it's if I’m struggling to find my place in the world. I’m a little like Goldie Locks trying to discover the chair that is just right!

In all fairness, I do have a wonderful group of friends that I feel very connected to, and my family is loving and functional, at least relatively speaking. And believe me, I am incredibly grateful for that. With such great support it would seem that I would be extremely at home in my life.

I guess I’m still searching for my purpose. I’m not the first person embarking on that search, and I’m certain I won’t be the last.  And who knows maybe by searching to hard, or trying to force meaning into our lives, we end up missing the big picture. We would all probably be happier if stopped trying to make ourselves fit in. It would be better if we all could give ourselves permission to be comfortable in our own skin.

A Guilt Free Affair

In the same spirit in which I wrote the blog about lipstick, I thought about another rather silly, but important in my world substance. It’s a friend that has seen me through many a tough time.

This friend is of course coffee. It always greets me every morning. Nothing is better then a warm mug in my hands as I struggle to re-join the waking world.

Okay, okay, I know it’s a drug. And if truth be known, I am an addict. If I omit my daily cup, I will be met with one mean headache. My theory on this is if you’re going to have a vice, a coffee addiction is, I suppose, a rather mild one.

But it’s not just utilitarian need of the stuff that I have. I also have lots of pleasant memories surrounding coffee. A warm cup with many different friends as we plan our next creative project. I also can remember a drinking coffee on lazy afternoons after eating lunch as I sit with my grandfather while he would tell me about long gone relatives.

My friend recently sent be a video talking about the fact that coffee has all these lovely health benefits. So I have decided to not feel guilty about my love of the beautiful brew.

Learning to Love Awkward

I have this fantasy where I am graceful and smooth. I am light on my feet and have reflexes like a cat.

This is however, just that, a fantasy. I am clumsy, always awkwardly fumbling over myself in a grand and embarrassing fashion.  I plow my way through life leaving broken objects in my wake. My body often covered in bruises and bumps due to my last run in with, well... me.

I recently dropped a bottle of unopened red wine.  Those of you, who know me, will understand how traumatizing this was. I was left shaking as a stream of expletives came from me that would embarrass a sailor. I had just purchased it. It was still in the shopping bag when it rolled off the table onto the unforgiving floor. It did, however, leave the kitchen smelling fruit forward and robust, which was nice.

So I can dream all I want about transforming into a person who is lithe and lovely, but I know that is not in my future. So if there is coffee spilling, toes being stubbed, or toilets overflowing then chances are I will be there screaming “oh no, oh no, oh no…” among other things, and I am just going to have to make peace with that.

On Papa's Day!

When I was growing up my father and I alternately got along perfectly, and fought like cats and dogs. There were times when dad and I had long conversations about anything and everything, current events, music, or even about stuff I was learning at school. Of course we could turn around and have a full blown screaming match, complete with door slamming and tears. We knew how to push each other’s buttons.  I sometimes found him insufferable, and irritating. It was not till I was older and gained some perspective that I realized why we where able to get under each other’s skin. The reason is I am my father.

It’s true.  I have his same temperament, the same love of quirky news and bizarre facts and I can be just as hot headed. I am even my dad, right down to the slightly inappropriate, irreverent sense of humor that provokes eye rolling in my mother. 

When I was a teenager this revelation probably would have frightened me, after all when your fifteen, your parents can be so uncool! But now, I have to say, if I turn out to be half as cool as my pops, I’ll be a lucky person.

Just Breath!

There are times when my anxiety level rises, and the way I deal with it is to snap at the people in my life. I become angry and illogical. Every solution a friend offers I see as a way that make the situation worse. It is a terrible way to deal with my stress, and usually makes those who where trying to help me want to turn and walk away. And I wouldn’t blame them. In truth it makes me feel like a wounded wild animal that has their paw in the trap, baring my fangs at those trying to fee me.

I don’t want to be the person who deals with stress in such an unproductive and volatile way. And right now I am going through some life changes that have me feeling frightened and insecure (or should I say more frightened and insecure than usual). Because of this I am find myself rather irritable and irrational. I don’t like the person I become in these situations. I want to transform into someone who handles stress in a healthy way.

What I want to do is learn to breath through it. I’m trying not to work myself up over things that have not happened yet, and may not ever happen. Most importantly I am trying not to bite the hands that are offered up so graciously to me in the spirit of help. 

Red Roots

In the spirit of needing to “just write”, I have decided to write something frivolous and fun today. I want to write about red lipstick!

So I have a love of red lipstick. It’s my favorite. Despite the fact that it often makes it’s way onto my teeth and it is probably full of toxins and chemicals that I would be horrified to apply directly to my lips. But I love the stuff.

Why do I love it? Well there is the obvious reason. I like the way it looks. Red is a great color, and it looks good on me. Simple.

But that’s not the only reason. I am a bit of an insecure fraidy cat.  Red is a bold color, and to wear red lipstick you’re basically demanding people to look at you. It’s not a meek choice in cosmetics. And though I often am uncomfortable in my own skin, I feel like a girl who wears red lipstick is not, and I like feeling like that girl. Perhaps it’s my “fake it till ya make it” moment!  And I have to say when I see myself in the mirror sporting with deep crimson lips I do feel slightly more powerful.

Of course this is one more reason I wear it, and this one is closes to my heart. It has to do with family. This seems strange I know. But you see I had a great great aunt name Beulah.  And from everything I hear, the woman was fierce. She was independent, eccentric and interesting. She traveled a lot before finally settling herself in San Francisco; a city that I am sure suited her temperament perfectly. She also never married, which I assume was a super big deal in those days. And one of the things that Aunt Beulah was known for was her love of the color red. In fact there was a story that she would tell about how she was engaged to a man, who told her that when they got married she would no longer be able to wear red.  Upon hearing this, she immediately gave him back his ring and told him that she could not marry him if that was the case.  Though my grandmother says that she thinks the facts of the story might have been funneled through Beulah’s ever-creative imagination, I like this story and it has stuck with me. I guess when I don the red it makes me feel closer to this strong woman. I like the fact that when I am wearing red lipstick it reminds me that I am her descendent, that she is part of the roots that I grew from and that the fierceness she possessed is in me too!

Girl With Goals

I’m feeling ambitious this summer. Like the beginning of most summers I am optimistic about how productive I will be with my time. Of course I often end the summer with a bit of self-disgust as I tally up the hours that I grotesquely wasted.  But I am optimistic at the moment and I hope to achieve some, if not all, of my lofty goals.

First goal, I plan to work on my health. Last quarter descended into a hole of sedentary homework doing, and vile junk food consuming. Like I have said before, remember the papas , my health has in the past few years become an important issue to me.  Now again let me be clear, it is not about trying to conform to some ultra thin idea of beauty, what it is about is feeling healthier and stronger, that’s what is important to me.

Next goal, I want to go through some of my earthly possessions, and purge. I have become quite the pack rat over the years and it’s kind of sickening. So in the spirit of transformation, I want to sort through my things and get rid of the excess. A side note, it is sad that we live in a society where excess is the problem.  But anyways this is going to be quite the task for me because I am on the just a few possessions away of being a hoarder, so I will essentially be trying to de-program myself. Should be cake right?

Most important goal, I need to write! I need to write and write and write until I can’t write anymore. I need to complete first drafts of some scripts, and rework some existing ones. I also have a contest or two that I want to enter my work into. If I am gong to try to make writing my vocation then I need to be doing it. I need to write. And that includes checking in here, because after all this blog is a great way to stretch that writing muscle!

Summer Yo Yo

I know, I know, it’s been a while since I have checked in. The only excuse I have is that it was a mad busy quarter for me, leaving me very little time to breath, save write on my little blog here. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I actually cried a few times from exhaustion and stress during this crazy quarter. Here is the thing, assignments aren’t really anything to cry over… but alas I did, and it was shameful. I am back though. It’s summer and I can breath!

Once again I find myself spending the warm weather months in my parents guest room. I have for the past couple years lived on campus because, well, I am the carless wonder with the phobia of mass transit.  So as soon as the school year ends I am kicked out of the dorms, and my parents being the generous people that they are, allow their not-so-baby-bird to come home for a season. 

As kind as it is that my parents let me do this, I would like this to be the last time yoyo back to my hometown.  And sense I am feeling a bit more confident with the metro because of my crazy spring break trip, Girl literally in transit, I know it’s time to move off campus in the fall! It’s scary (because I am still the girl who is afraid of her own shadow) but that’s okay, because I am all about change right now. We change and we adapt as a way to survive. And that what I want to do, I want to survive and even more important I want to thrive. 

So here is to my last summer camping out on in my parents guest room. I intend to enjoy it while I can, cause if all goes as planed, I will be in a crappy apartment of my very own in the city.

Flying in the Face of Fear

Something momentous happened today. A bird flew very near my face, and I did not flinch.

Now this may seem like a minor event. After all, birds fly around us everyday, especially since we humans are taking up more and more space on the planet due to overpopulation. It’s inevitable that we have a few head on collisions with nature.  And I am sure there are many people who have no problem with the presence of our feathered friends.  I will admit they are beautiful and amazing creatures (minus the in flight pooping, which I think we can all agree is a less desirable quality)

But for a very long time (and I am not sure when it started exactly) birds have frightened me. On more than one occasion the winged animals have sent me screaming in the other direction.

There is one instance I remember quite clearly when I was in one of those warehouse stores with a very good friend of mine. There happened to be a bird that somehow had flown himself into the store. My friend, a bit of a prankster, knowing my fear, chased the bird in my direction (yes we are still friends surprisingly enough). In a state of panic I dove into a display of economy size toilet paper rolls.

But today I did not flinch when a bird flew very near my face . And though it is an isolated instance, I feel like it is a micro example of a bigger happening in my life.

I am changing. I have the ability to change. I can overcome the fears that have held me back.

Now I am not saying that I want to be locked in a cage with a flock of pigeons. And I am not saying that I am ready to face everything that scares me head on. I’m just noting that there has progress, and progress gives me hope for greater successes ahead. And that is a beautiful thing.

The Un-Friend Friend

We all have them. They are our non-friend friends. Those people in our lives that make us question why we let them in, in the first place. Those individuals who tend to complicate our lives by bringing an unhealthy dose of negative energy. They are poison friends. They are emotional vampires sucking out our precious well being.

So why do we keep them? I know I for one have a hard time letting go of people that are not good for me. I think it’s partly because extracting such people from my life typically involves some sort of confrontation. I guess there is a way to phase people out, but this depends on how intimately involved with the person you are. I mean if you are spending lots of your precious hours with someone, and then you are suddenly are not, well they might become suspicious. You will get that confrontation that you where trying to avoid, only now it will be on their terms.

So that does leave you with going to the person, and addressing the problem head on. This is exhausting, and often painful for the parties involved. And sometimes the toxic types of people are not receptive to what you have to say anyways.

So again, why do we keep them? Perhaps even more importantly how did they get in our lives in the first place?

Well in my case, these types of relationships seem to spring up when I am most vulnerable. In times of great change, or when I am feeling my loneliest. I can recognize that. But by the time I realize that they are not good for me, they have firmly rooted themselves in my life.

I suppose they do serve one purpose. When contrasted to the better relationships in my life, I can really see how good the good ones are.

Of course I really should make the effort to extract the weeds in my life. We all should, we have the right to be emotionally and mentally healthy. And if a relationship hinders that emotional health, then it is not worth keeping. It has been a hard lesson for me, but one that I know is worth learning.

Baby it's Warm Outside!

The weather is becoming warm again. I like the change. I like the sunshine. I have a pretty high tolerance for heat, which I can only assume comes from being raised in the desert. My mother says that my tolerance will become lower as I age, so I guess I should enjoy the heat while I can.

With flowers blooming, and the sun shinning warm on my face, I can’t help but feel my personal brand of cautious hope. Despite my typical tendency to be pessimistic, I find myself swinging dangerously close to optimism as of late. It is strange feeling comfortable in my own skin because self doubt and insecurity in the past been such steadfast companions.

Now am not saying that I am ready to hang up my negativity hat for good. I know myself too well for that. I am aware that I have lots to deal with in the next weeks, and I will have plenty of opportunity to beat myself up, should I give into it. 

But for the moment, I am happy. We finished a successful run of THE MILKMAN, the first time something I wrote was produced (so exciting). I have a loving family and great friends, both new and old who fill my life with more pleasure than a person has a right too. There are some opportunities on the horizon that look promising which is always exciting.

And most important the sun has been shinning!!!

Who knows what the next days will bring. But right now, in the moment I am happy, and I will choose to embrace and honor that.