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.