I knew it. I knew something like this was going to come up. But I didn't think it'd come up for at least another year or two.
Adam's dad basically doesn't think Adam and I will have a happy life together because I'm not Christian. While I ranted a bit on my Tumblr about it, I now have a better understanding of what he meant, but the above conclusion is still true. And I'm still upset over it.
He quoted some scripture that basically said it's going to be hard when two in a relationship are different religions. We're going to have different ideas on how to conduct the wedding, church going activities, and how to raise children, is what it's being interpreted as. And when I first heard it, it basically sounded like he was fine with us dating, but we couldn't get married because of it. I guess that bit's not 100% true, but whatever.
Either way, Adam's dad doesn't know what goes on in our relationship. He doesn't know that so far we've learned how to discuss our differences in religion (to a point) so no one gets angry or hurt by what the other says. He just assumed that we'll have conflict with our differing religions. I don't care if Adam's Christian, as long as he's not rubbing it in my face, telling me I'm going to Hell, or telling me that I'm not a good person because I'm not a Christian. And he doesn't tell me these things.
Nor does he know that I've told Adam before that when it comes to kids, if we have them then I don't care if they go to church or not, as long as they're not forced to continue to go if they don't believe. I also don't care as long as we let them know they have a choice of what religion they belong to. I don't think belief should be forced.
And instead of talking to Adam about it, or approaching me with his concerns, he just assumes that we're doomed because I'm not a Christian. It almost came off as he didn't think I was good enough for his son just because I'm not Christian. And this is what made me mad.
I'm not going to magically gain more morals because I'm a Christian. I'm probably not going to become more conservative just because I'm a Christian. So what's going to change if I became a Christian? My immortal soul would be saved? I'm already quite aware of all the suffering going on in the world and the country. I can't do anything about it except what I try to do right now, and that's bring attention to it. Maybe someone who is in a better position to help and make changes will see it and do something about it. Becoming Christian is not going to bring me into more wealth, time, or power to affect change.
And really, that's what bugs me about organized religion. Somehow I'm not a moral person because I don't believe Jesus died for my sins, because I don't believe he's the son of God. Because Christians haven't ever done wrong. It's stereotypical to say that, and especially to believe it. I'm not sure how to handle it, quite honestly. I've put up with the snide comments about deism, about liberals, about things that I care about.
You would think that after almost a year of dating he'd have come to understand that people can be good without Jesus in their life. And he doesn't even know why I don't believe anymore. Not like it'd matter though, he'd probably just use the same argument as Adam did when I told him.
Adam said he doesn't care what his dad thought, and he said if push comes to shove his mom could probably bring his dad around. I didn't realize that my religion (or "choosing what I believe" in his dad's words) would rule me out as a viable candidate to marry his son, when the last Christian (Catholic) who dated him was not someone who deserved his son. His son deserved much more than what she gave him, but she's got more of a chance because she believes Jesus is her savior.
I guess I should just trust in the fact that Adam said it'd all work out. Good thing I don't have to see his dad for a week.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
This is Your Life
It's been awhile. I've moved over some more serious ideas to this blog if you wanted to check it out. This blogger will be more dating thoughts, I guess.
This weekend Adam and I had a series of serious talks about our futures. We've talked about it before, but most joking was set aside this time, and it was in person as opposed to via text message, so I like to think it was fairly serious. It both comforted me and scared me.
About a week ago I asked him if he wanted to live with me if I decided to go to grad school here. I honestly don't know where the thought came from. I hadn't been thinking about it before it just slipped out, and it surprised me as much as it surprised him. But as soon as it came out of my mouth, I knew it was something I meant.
Instead of thinking about it, his almost immediate response was "I don't think my parents would like that." Which wasn't my question at all. I just wanted to know if he wanted to live with me next year. It would make our lives easier (I think), and though the statistics are against us (he claims), I personally think I'd like to live with someone before I got engaged, and most definitely before I got married. It's something I want. He didn't even think about if he wanted to or not; he automatically went with what his parents would think.
Now, I know this may have been a more tactful way of saying no, but it still bugged me. And though we talked about a lot of other things this weekend, I started wondering if our life decisions separately and together would have to be influenced by his parents' feelings on the idea or topic. And I don't know if I would want to have to live up to his parents' expectations of what our relationship should be like. Mainly because I don't think I could.
The big thing, the thing he said would be an issue, is my religion. I consider myself to be a deist, open to learning about other religions and finding one that makes sense to me. His dad's a preacher, Christian through and through, with scholarly works to back him up. So far we've avoided talking about religion around his dad. It came up when I went out to eat with his mom and brother, but I mysteriously fell silent. I don't think his mom has as much issue with it as his dad, and I don't think Adam has an enormous concern about it.
But I know they want me to be Christian. My mom wants me to be Christian. They don't know why I'm not. Adam does. My mom knows the story, but hasn't realized it's also the reason why I'm no longer a believer. His family doesn't know, and I don't know when, or if, I want to tell them. So they don't understand why I believe God doesn't interfere in our lives. And I know even if I tell his brother, he won't understand. He as good as told me when we went to dinner and got on the subject.
The point of this is that I don't know how viable a future with Adam can be if his dad has a say in it. And normally he doesn't, but it seems like big life decisions he will. It's weird - Adam wants me to convert, I'm sure his family does too, but they don't want me to convert because they're Christian. They want me to convert because I believe. Well, I used to believe. Guess what? It failed me when I needed it most. Somehow I can forgive tangible humans more than I can forgive a God or Jesus who can't prove that they're there when I need them most.
The point of this was to vent about how Adam's life decisions that will affect him and, because we're 22 and I'm close to starting life post-schooling, the ones that will affect me will be influenced by his parents. And I love that he's close to his family, they do hold a special place in my heart - but I want him to start to make decisions based on his feelings as well, and more importantly first. He always says he's still a child, but I need him to start to grow up soon.
This weekend Adam and I had a series of serious talks about our futures. We've talked about it before, but most joking was set aside this time, and it was in person as opposed to via text message, so I like to think it was fairly serious. It both comforted me and scared me.
About a week ago I asked him if he wanted to live with me if I decided to go to grad school here. I honestly don't know where the thought came from. I hadn't been thinking about it before it just slipped out, and it surprised me as much as it surprised him. But as soon as it came out of my mouth, I knew it was something I meant.
Instead of thinking about it, his almost immediate response was "I don't think my parents would like that." Which wasn't my question at all. I just wanted to know if he wanted to live with me next year. It would make our lives easier (I think), and though the statistics are against us (he claims), I personally think I'd like to live with someone before I got engaged, and most definitely before I got married. It's something I want. He didn't even think about if he wanted to or not; he automatically went with what his parents would think.
Now, I know this may have been a more tactful way of saying no, but it still bugged me. And though we talked about a lot of other things this weekend, I started wondering if our life decisions separately and together would have to be influenced by his parents' feelings on the idea or topic. And I don't know if I would want to have to live up to his parents' expectations of what our relationship should be like. Mainly because I don't think I could.
The big thing, the thing he said would be an issue, is my religion. I consider myself to be a deist, open to learning about other religions and finding one that makes sense to me. His dad's a preacher, Christian through and through, with scholarly works to back him up. So far we've avoided talking about religion around his dad. It came up when I went out to eat with his mom and brother, but I mysteriously fell silent. I don't think his mom has as much issue with it as his dad, and I don't think Adam has an enormous concern about it.
But I know they want me to be Christian. My mom wants me to be Christian. They don't know why I'm not. Adam does. My mom knows the story, but hasn't realized it's also the reason why I'm no longer a believer. His family doesn't know, and I don't know when, or if, I want to tell them. So they don't understand why I believe God doesn't interfere in our lives. And I know even if I tell his brother, he won't understand. He as good as told me when we went to dinner and got on the subject.
The point of this is that I don't know how viable a future with Adam can be if his dad has a say in it. And normally he doesn't, but it seems like big life decisions he will. It's weird - Adam wants me to convert, I'm sure his family does too, but they don't want me to convert because they're Christian. They want me to convert because I believe. Well, I used to believe. Guess what? It failed me when I needed it most. Somehow I can forgive tangible humans more than I can forgive a God or Jesus who can't prove that they're there when I need them most.
The point of this was to vent about how Adam's life decisions that will affect him and, because we're 22 and I'm close to starting life post-schooling, the ones that will affect me will be influenced by his parents. And I love that he's close to his family, they do hold a special place in my heart - but I want him to start to make decisions based on his feelings as well, and more importantly first. He always says he's still a child, but I need him to start to grow up soon.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Absense Makes the Day Go Longer
It's been awhile since I last wrote anything, but that's because nothing has really happened. My summer's been filled with Jeopardy, Tumblr, and texting Adam. Since I haven't had a job, I haven't seen the friends that are here, and most of them haven't returned for the summer.
But this past weekend Adam came to visit for my birthday, so I had to clean the house. I had to figure out what we would do, and how we would get there. I tried to plan things to do with my family and alone, but since both he and I have limited funds I didn't really make any plans. And so far this past weekend has been the best of the summer.
A few years ago I was scared of being in a long-distance relationship. I thought that the distance would undo everything, that not being able to see the person on a regular basis would make my feelings wane, and make it feel like a glorified friendship. That's why I broke up with Jose two summers ago. I knew that would be the reason for Zack and I to break up (then more things happened that contributed to the break up).
Last year, pre-April, I was afraid that the distance between Dave and I would be difficult for us. I started to make plans about when we could see each other. I thought that two weeks apart was the most either of us would be able to go without being able to see each other. I was planning how to budget my money, which weekends to visit, and how I'd get there. I was asking him the best way for him to reach me.
Winter break apart wasn't bad for us, so I don't know where this idea that two weeks would undo us came from. Maybe I felt something changing in our relationship, and that's why I started to plan ways to hold on to him. Maybe it's because when Jose and I had left the previous summer, it hadn't even taken me two weeks to want to end things. Maybe because I wanted him to meet my family and get to know them, and for me to meet the rest of his.
Whatever the reason it didn't really matter, he ended up dumping me before any plans had really been solidified. Which, now that I think about it, probably was for the best. The summer apart would've ruined us anyway, because we were both unhappy with the way the relationship was going. It would've left us a month to fix us, and that wasn't enough to fix it.
What it comes down to is that usually I suck at long-distance relationships. Usually I can't handle much more than a few weeks apart. Usually I lose interest in trying to make things work. Usually I'd rather hang out with my friends and see what else is out there than being tied down for an extended period of time. Usually when I'm away from my significant other for a period of time longer than three weeks (or sometimes less than that) I start to feel like I'm single and the only reason I can't go for someone else is because I don't want to be a cheater.
Not this time. With Adam, the three weeks of winter break felt like they passed incredibly slowly. We texted every day, Skyped most days, and he even came to visit me for a day. But those three weeks still seemed like more than a month. Before I thought it was because we had only been dating for a month before I came home.
These past few weeks were the same, though. Even after the first week it felt like it had been three weeks. The second week, the fourth. We both felt the same way about the distance and how it felt like forever since we had seen each other in person. We're usually texting each other about 12 hours a day. When we Skype, it's for at least three hours. And we don't run out of things to say.
Sure, sometimes our conversations are about how we miss each other and other private couples stuff, but we're still talking. And the four weeks it took for me to see him didn't make me feel single. It made me feel alone, yes, but not single. But I felt alone because only a few of my friends are here this summer, and all of his are there. I have little to do with my day but feel alone. He has his friends, a car, and a job. I just have the internet and my phone.
This weekend we did the same things that we would at school: Watched movies, ate, and talked. He got to know my parents a bit better and got the best friend approval, but it was mostly Adam and I all weekend. And it's one of my favorite weekends. For the rest of the summer it seems like it'll be about two weeks between each visit, and I get to go there next. Two weeks doesn't seem like too long now.
I used to think that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" was a lie.
But this past weekend Adam came to visit for my birthday, so I had to clean the house. I had to figure out what we would do, and how we would get there. I tried to plan things to do with my family and alone, but since both he and I have limited funds I didn't really make any plans. And so far this past weekend has been the best of the summer.
A few years ago I was scared of being in a long-distance relationship. I thought that the distance would undo everything, that not being able to see the person on a regular basis would make my feelings wane, and make it feel like a glorified friendship. That's why I broke up with Jose two summers ago. I knew that would be the reason for Zack and I to break up (then more things happened that contributed to the break up).
Last year, pre-April, I was afraid that the distance between Dave and I would be difficult for us. I started to make plans about when we could see each other. I thought that two weeks apart was the most either of us would be able to go without being able to see each other. I was planning how to budget my money, which weekends to visit, and how I'd get there. I was asking him the best way for him to reach me.
Winter break apart wasn't bad for us, so I don't know where this idea that two weeks would undo us came from. Maybe I felt something changing in our relationship, and that's why I started to plan ways to hold on to him. Maybe it's because when Jose and I had left the previous summer, it hadn't even taken me two weeks to want to end things. Maybe because I wanted him to meet my family and get to know them, and for me to meet the rest of his.
Whatever the reason it didn't really matter, he ended up dumping me before any plans had really been solidified. Which, now that I think about it, probably was for the best. The summer apart would've ruined us anyway, because we were both unhappy with the way the relationship was going. It would've left us a month to fix us, and that wasn't enough to fix it.
What it comes down to is that usually I suck at long-distance relationships. Usually I can't handle much more than a few weeks apart. Usually I lose interest in trying to make things work. Usually I'd rather hang out with my friends and see what else is out there than being tied down for an extended period of time. Usually when I'm away from my significant other for a period of time longer than three weeks (or sometimes less than that) I start to feel like I'm single and the only reason I can't go for someone else is because I don't want to be a cheater.
Not this time. With Adam, the three weeks of winter break felt like they passed incredibly slowly. We texted every day, Skyped most days, and he even came to visit me for a day. But those three weeks still seemed like more than a month. Before I thought it was because we had only been dating for a month before I came home.
These past few weeks were the same, though. Even after the first week it felt like it had been three weeks. The second week, the fourth. We both felt the same way about the distance and how it felt like forever since we had seen each other in person. We're usually texting each other about 12 hours a day. When we Skype, it's for at least three hours. And we don't run out of things to say.
Sure, sometimes our conversations are about how we miss each other and other private couples stuff, but we're still talking. And the four weeks it took for me to see him didn't make me feel single. It made me feel alone, yes, but not single. But I felt alone because only a few of my friends are here this summer, and all of his are there. I have little to do with my day but feel alone. He has his friends, a car, and a job. I just have the internet and my phone.
This weekend we did the same things that we would at school: Watched movies, ate, and talked. He got to know my parents a bit better and got the best friend approval, but it was mostly Adam and I all weekend. And it's one of my favorite weekends. For the rest of the summer it seems like it'll be about two weeks between each visit, and I get to go there next. Two weeks doesn't seem like too long now.
I used to think that "absence makes the heart grow fonder" was a lie.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
The Weight of It
Summer's here. I got a 4.0 this semester, which is probably the first and the last time that'll happen in college. If I didn't get it, though, I would've been highly concerned.
I've hardly been home five days and I'm already thinking that I might go crazy. I get why people move out once they graduate college. I get why most of my friends stayed at school for the summer. I am back in this house that I lived in when I went to high school, before I was only an occasional guest in it. I need to get out.
But since I've been home and currently have no job, it's back to my old ways. Watching TV, missing people from school, and thinking that I need to lose weight. But this year I'm actually trying to do something about it, like portion control and regular exercise. I've just started and I'm already thinking that I'm going to go down a different path than I intend to.
Though Adam is great and only has good things to say about me, I still feel this need to look a certain way. Blame it on the magazines, on the supermodels, on TV, on whatever. But let's face it: compared to my friends, the ones who get more attention, who get called prettier more often than I, who fit in more with those other women, I don't really measure up. Or, rather, I measure too much.
I thought I had a handle on this last year, or even last semester. And for awhile there, I was feeling good about myself. But then life got hectic, I stopped working out as much, and Adam and I didn't really eat healthy, I gained the weight. And with him I didn't feel like I had to impress anyone anymore.
But now I'm home, bored out of my mind, watching TV shows with people at their biggest half my size. Now my mom tells me to shop in the plus-size section, when I'm perfectly capable of wearing "normal" sizes. Now she gets surprised when I eat a healthy dinner and go out and get more food because I'm hungry three hours later. Now I get hungry two hours after I eat, and there are slim pickings in the healthy and non-prepackaged foods.
I honestly think it's this house. There's nothing to do, nothing to eat, and everyone keeps to themselves. This house is what's bringing me down. Being alone, with a scale and a number, is what's bringing me down. Distance from Adam, with his friends who probably wouldn't think twice if he went off with a girl, is what's bringing me down. But those worries are for another time, I guess.
I wish I had the confidence that I had in October back.
**Please don't comment with anything along the lines of "You don't need to change," it's really not going to do much for me right now**
I've hardly been home five days and I'm already thinking that I might go crazy. I get why people move out once they graduate college. I get why most of my friends stayed at school for the summer. I am back in this house that I lived in when I went to high school, before I was only an occasional guest in it. I need to get out.
But since I've been home and currently have no job, it's back to my old ways. Watching TV, missing people from school, and thinking that I need to lose weight. But this year I'm actually trying to do something about it, like portion control and regular exercise. I've just started and I'm already thinking that I'm going to go down a different path than I intend to.
Though Adam is great and only has good things to say about me, I still feel this need to look a certain way. Blame it on the magazines, on the supermodels, on TV, on whatever. But let's face it: compared to my friends, the ones who get more attention, who get called prettier more often than I, who fit in more with those other women, I don't really measure up. Or, rather, I measure too much.
I thought I had a handle on this last year, or even last semester. And for awhile there, I was feeling good about myself. But then life got hectic, I stopped working out as much, and Adam and I didn't really eat healthy, I gained the weight. And with him I didn't feel like I had to impress anyone anymore.
But now I'm home, bored out of my mind, watching TV shows with people at their biggest half my size. Now my mom tells me to shop in the plus-size section, when I'm perfectly capable of wearing "normal" sizes. Now she gets surprised when I eat a healthy dinner and go out and get more food because I'm hungry three hours later. Now I get hungry two hours after I eat, and there are slim pickings in the healthy and non-prepackaged foods.
I honestly think it's this house. There's nothing to do, nothing to eat, and everyone keeps to themselves. This house is what's bringing me down. Being alone, with a scale and a number, is what's bringing me down. Distance from Adam, with his friends who probably wouldn't think twice if he went off with a girl, is what's bringing me down. But those worries are for another time, I guess.
I wish I had the confidence that I had in October back.
**Please don't comment with anything along the lines of "You don't need to change," it's really not going to do much for me right now**
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Losing my Religion
Showcase is over, which means I have time to relax again. That's nice. Almost too nice.
Good Friday was this past weekend, as was Easter. I'm not a religious person, but I do look forward to Christmas and Easter, though not for the religious reasons. I guess it's more of the Pagan traditions that they are based on that I like them: the gifts, the food, the random symbols of the seasons. They hold no Christian values for me.
So I'm not a Christian and I celebrate these holidays. So I'm not a Christian and I donate to churches. Apparently that last fact is surprising to some. Sure, I don't believe in the same thing that you do, but I know that churches are always looking for funding, especially small ones. Just because I don't believe the same thing as you doesn't mean that I can't see how important it is to you.
I think that faith is a very big thing. I think that if you have something in your life that is so important to you that it dictates how you live your life, then that should be fostered. If you're passionate about it, I will support you. The thing that bothers me with organized religion in general is the blind faith I see.
The mentality that "my parents believed this, therefore I will as well" without asking any questions is my issue. That's why I will bring up discussions about religion and things that I have personally seen wrong with the faith. If you can discuss your point without getting angry, and with backing up your belief with what sound like solid facts, then I respect you. I'm not out to evangelize for deism or any other religion (or lack of one).
That leads into another issue I have with religion: telling me I'm going to hell because I don't believe what you say is true is not going to convert me. If it converts someone to Christianity, then I think they're doing it for the wrong reasons. That is not true faith. Joining up because of that is another example of blind faith. This happens with all religions, though, not just Christianity; I'm using Christianity because it's the one I know best (having been a Christian before), and because it's the one I'm constantly surrounded by.
I feel like when I went to church this weekend, the sermon was slightly directed at me. Celebrate because Jesus has risen! I have historical proof outside the Bible that he existed! If you were a Christian before but lost your way, come back to God and Jesus and join our church! There's a good chance it wasn't, but seeing as the minister is my boyfriend's father and knows that I'm a deist, there's also a chance it slightly was.
I'm not against all religions. I'm against organized religions that take their message too far. I figure that there are too many religions out there, with multiple similarities, that I can't be sure of which one is right. Do I believe in a higher power? Yes. Do I believe Jesus existed? I believe there was a man named Jesus. Do I believe he was the son of God? That I don't. Might I believe it in the future? If I can have more proof.
I'm open to possibilities.
Good Friday was this past weekend, as was Easter. I'm not a religious person, but I do look forward to Christmas and Easter, though not for the religious reasons. I guess it's more of the Pagan traditions that they are based on that I like them: the gifts, the food, the random symbols of the seasons. They hold no Christian values for me.
So I'm not a Christian and I celebrate these holidays. So I'm not a Christian and I donate to churches. Apparently that last fact is surprising to some. Sure, I don't believe in the same thing that you do, but I know that churches are always looking for funding, especially small ones. Just because I don't believe the same thing as you doesn't mean that I can't see how important it is to you.
I think that faith is a very big thing. I think that if you have something in your life that is so important to you that it dictates how you live your life, then that should be fostered. If you're passionate about it, I will support you. The thing that bothers me with organized religion in general is the blind faith I see.
The mentality that "my parents believed this, therefore I will as well" without asking any questions is my issue. That's why I will bring up discussions about religion and things that I have personally seen wrong with the faith. If you can discuss your point without getting angry, and with backing up your belief with what sound like solid facts, then I respect you. I'm not out to evangelize for deism or any other religion (or lack of one).
That leads into another issue I have with religion: telling me I'm going to hell because I don't believe what you say is true is not going to convert me. If it converts someone to Christianity, then I think they're doing it for the wrong reasons. That is not true faith. Joining up because of that is another example of blind faith. This happens with all religions, though, not just Christianity; I'm using Christianity because it's the one I know best (having been a Christian before), and because it's the one I'm constantly surrounded by.
I feel like when I went to church this weekend, the sermon was slightly directed at me. Celebrate because Jesus has risen! I have historical proof outside the Bible that he existed! If you were a Christian before but lost your way, come back to God and Jesus and join our church! There's a good chance it wasn't, but seeing as the minister is my boyfriend's father and knows that I'm a deist, there's also a chance it slightly was.
I'm not against all religions. I'm against organized religions that take their message too far. I figure that there are too many religions out there, with multiple similarities, that I can't be sure of which one is right. Do I believe in a higher power? Yes. Do I believe Jesus existed? I believe there was a man named Jesus. Do I believe he was the son of God? That I don't. Might I believe it in the future? If I can have more proof.
I'm open to possibilities.
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Writing Writer
Time to write. I'm sitting in class right now, and I'm waiting for things to print instead of memorizing lines. I've been relocated in my duties right now, so I'll take the time to be productive.
All semester I've been in this immersive learning class, and we've created a lot of things for it. Magazines, programs, invitations, and our presentation Thursday night. We're all kind of feeling the end of the semester. We've been around each other the whole semester, and we're looking at Thursday as a relief from the stress.
Through this class I've realized that there is a definite need to have different people around you, and different classes as well. Doing the same thing day in and day out gets tedious after awhile, and seeing the same people does the same. Differing ideas make it hard to compromise, and stubborn people make it even more so.
It's been a good time, but I'm definitely ready to get back to my journalism classes. Sure, I want to keep advocating for our program after I'm done with this semester (and with school), but I want to get back to magazine writing. I want to interview people. I want to write their stories. I want to be surrounded by people who have an idea of what they're doing. I want people who have studied magazines (or at least read them on a fairly consistent basis) telling me what I should and should not do. I need people who understand the process to be around me.
I never realized how much I actually love my major until a few weeks ago. Sure, it's great to write things, and talk to people, and be charged with the task of telling their story. I knew I already loved those parts. But being told that I was an inspiration, that what we created was inspirational to one person, was more than enough. Seeing everyone's faces when we brought the proof back, and watching them light up when they went through it, made me feel worth it. They didn't even linger on their own stories.
None of them had seen what it would look like as a whole, and watching them gaze at the final product in awe was amazing. We didn't even have it printed on the correct paper, and they wanted more. They finally realized that it was all worth it, that we should have printed as many as we did, and that we should have spent all that time and money getting through it.
Knowing that these 12 people were amazed by it fuels me to work that much harder in my final year in college. I know it was a new idea, a new concept, but knowing that they got joy out of it makes me want to do so much next year and leave my mark. Everyone knows about Ball Bearings, you get an issue when you come for freshman orientation. I want to be a part of it, finally. I want to be on the writers list. I want my ideas to be written by me. I want my name in the magazine.
I want to have an internship where I can get a lot of experience talking to people, writing about them, and hearing from them. I'm fine with feedback, positive or negative. I've had to deal with negative in the past few weeks, but I've learned how to deal with that. I want to be working on deadline, to be helping with the design process, to be out there taking my own pictures. I want to write.
I want to be a magazine writer. I want my own magazine. And some day, I'll check those off my to-do list.
All semester I've been in this immersive learning class, and we've created a lot of things for it. Magazines, programs, invitations, and our presentation Thursday night. We're all kind of feeling the end of the semester. We've been around each other the whole semester, and we're looking at Thursday as a relief from the stress.
Through this class I've realized that there is a definite need to have different people around you, and different classes as well. Doing the same thing day in and day out gets tedious after awhile, and seeing the same people does the same. Differing ideas make it hard to compromise, and stubborn people make it even more so.
It's been a good time, but I'm definitely ready to get back to my journalism classes. Sure, I want to keep advocating for our program after I'm done with this semester (and with school), but I want to get back to magazine writing. I want to interview people. I want to write their stories. I want to be surrounded by people who have an idea of what they're doing. I want people who have studied magazines (or at least read them on a fairly consistent basis) telling me what I should and should not do. I need people who understand the process to be around me.
I never realized how much I actually love my major until a few weeks ago. Sure, it's great to write things, and talk to people, and be charged with the task of telling their story. I knew I already loved those parts. But being told that I was an inspiration, that what we created was inspirational to one person, was more than enough. Seeing everyone's faces when we brought the proof back, and watching them light up when they went through it, made me feel worth it. They didn't even linger on their own stories.
None of them had seen what it would look like as a whole, and watching them gaze at the final product in awe was amazing. We didn't even have it printed on the correct paper, and they wanted more. They finally realized that it was all worth it, that we should have printed as many as we did, and that we should have spent all that time and money getting through it.
Knowing that these 12 people were amazed by it fuels me to work that much harder in my final year in college. I know it was a new idea, a new concept, but knowing that they got joy out of it makes me want to do so much next year and leave my mark. Everyone knows about Ball Bearings, you get an issue when you come for freshman orientation. I want to be a part of it, finally. I want to be on the writers list. I want my ideas to be written by me. I want my name in the magazine.
I want to have an internship where I can get a lot of experience talking to people, writing about them, and hearing from them. I'm fine with feedback, positive or negative. I've had to deal with negative in the past few weeks, but I've learned how to deal with that. I want to be working on deadline, to be helping with the design process, to be out there taking my own pictures. I want to write.
I want to be a magazine writer. I want my own magazine. And some day, I'll check those off my to-do list.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Begin Again
Well, it's been awhile since I last posted. Spring semester started, and I'm in a seminar for the whole semester. That means I'm not in normal classes, and we're developing a sexual assault prevention program. That's been taking up most of my time, and work, and fencing, and Adam. Not necessarily in that order, but it's still been a fairly busy semester already. And most of what's been on my mind is sexual assault, so that's just no fun.
But there is something else that I've been thinking about lately. Tif just celebrated her two year anniversary a few weeks ago, and a few people in seminar have talked about dating their significant others for a few years. Adam's been in relationships for a few years. And I haven't.
The longest relationship I've been in is a little under a year and a half. But everyone else my age has two or three years under their belts. And that longest relationship was one that I knew wouldn't work out in the end. So it really makes me question if I can have a long-term relationship, or if I'm stuck having shorter relationships and placing my love in people that won't work out?
I mean, I'm pretty sure I could stay in a relationship for a few years, forbidding any unfortunate circumstances that would make most couples break up. But I've never really had a chance to try, because unfortunate circumstances have happened. Being cheated on, being second best, things like that come up and I have no control over them. Things ended after all of that, and depending on what happened, I ended things.
Which leads me to another (potentially frightening) thought: What if there's something wrong with me? Is the reason I've never had a long-term relationship because of me? Is it my personality? Am I boring? Do I do something that makes them annoyed? Is whatever I'm doing preventable? I am the common denominator in all of my relationships, so logically I am the reason I've not had a long-term one.
There's nothing I can do to change that, though. I mean, I could ask all of the people who dumped me why they chose to, but that might not reveal much information. Or I already know why, and then things really are out of my control. So what is it about me that screams "I'm not worthy of a long-term relationship?"
I know my self-confidence issues probably didn't help things before, but I've slowly been getting better at that. And for awhile after I had that worked out, no one was interested. Now, of course, that's a different story. A different story that will eventually pose another problem, so long as things keep going the way they're going.
I'm graduating next year. He isn't. I'm planning on going home after that. He's gotta stay here. Long distance relationships don't usually work for me, as I've learned from the past. And honestly, I don't think I'd stay here unless I had a ring on my finger (which I'm just now admitting, both to myself and to others), and I wouldn't want someone to follow me unless we were engaged as well. But I don't want to be engaged fresh out of college either.
So yes, I would like to get married at some point in time in my life. But if I can't even make a relationship last very long now, how am I going to be able to make a marriage last for 30+ years? I don't want to get a divorce. I don't really want to be alone, but I could probably settle into being alone.
I just don't want to settle anymore.
But there is something else that I've been thinking about lately. Tif just celebrated her two year anniversary a few weeks ago, and a few people in seminar have talked about dating their significant others for a few years. Adam's been in relationships for a few years. And I haven't.
The longest relationship I've been in is a little under a year and a half. But everyone else my age has two or three years under their belts. And that longest relationship was one that I knew wouldn't work out in the end. So it really makes me question if I can have a long-term relationship, or if I'm stuck having shorter relationships and placing my love in people that won't work out?
I mean, I'm pretty sure I could stay in a relationship for a few years, forbidding any unfortunate circumstances that would make most couples break up. But I've never really had a chance to try, because unfortunate circumstances have happened. Being cheated on, being second best, things like that come up and I have no control over them. Things ended after all of that, and depending on what happened, I ended things.
Which leads me to another (potentially frightening) thought: What if there's something wrong with me? Is the reason I've never had a long-term relationship because of me? Is it my personality? Am I boring? Do I do something that makes them annoyed? Is whatever I'm doing preventable? I am the common denominator in all of my relationships, so logically I am the reason I've not had a long-term one.
There's nothing I can do to change that, though. I mean, I could ask all of the people who dumped me why they chose to, but that might not reveal much information. Or I already know why, and then things really are out of my control. So what is it about me that screams "I'm not worthy of a long-term relationship?"
I know my self-confidence issues probably didn't help things before, but I've slowly been getting better at that. And for awhile after I had that worked out, no one was interested. Now, of course, that's a different story. A different story that will eventually pose another problem, so long as things keep going the way they're going.
I'm graduating next year. He isn't. I'm planning on going home after that. He's gotta stay here. Long distance relationships don't usually work for me, as I've learned from the past. And honestly, I don't think I'd stay here unless I had a ring on my finger (which I'm just now admitting, both to myself and to others), and I wouldn't want someone to follow me unless we were engaged as well. But I don't want to be engaged fresh out of college either.
So yes, I would like to get married at some point in time in my life. But if I can't even make a relationship last very long now, how am I going to be able to make a marriage last for 30+ years? I don't want to get a divorce. I don't really want to be alone, but I could probably settle into being alone.
I just don't want to settle anymore.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Crazy Beautiful Life
Oh yes, happy new year to all my readers! It's a week into the new year, and I should be packing right now to go back to school in the morning. Instead, I'm sitting here with Facebook on one tab and Tumblr on another, waiting for a few people to send me text messages. My mom and I are watching football, both on our computers, while my brother's in the basement practicing guitar.
I don't really know what to write about tonight, all I know is that I want to write. That's a lie, I know what I want to write about, I just can't write it. I could write about what resolutions I've made for the new year, but they're pretty boring. I could write about how my Christmas turned out, but that feels like bragging. I could write about my boyfriend, but I'd like to get away from that theme on this blog. Starting new and such.
Have you ever thought about the past and how your life would have ended up if one thing had been different? For some reason I found myself thinking that a lot this break. How I might not have a brother or might not have moved out of Indiana if my mom hadn't needed a new car and subsequently met my (step)dad. How I might not have had the same drive and ambition to succeed if my (step)dad wasn't in my life. How I probably would've still ended up at the college I'm at anyway, but not known anyone I'm currently friends with.
Or if I hadn't dated some of the people I've dated. How different my personality would have been. How confident I may have been. How guarded I would be. If my views on relationships, on marriage, would be different. Or if some of them wouldn't have ended. Where would I be now? What would I be doing now? How would my blog have been this summer? Would my blog even exist?
Even further back. What if I had stayed in dance? Marching band may not have happened; instead, I could have been dancing in front of them at the football games. I may not have started saxophone; my whole high school experience could have been drastically different. In that case, my whole group of friends would have been different. Zack wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't know Anna or the Disney group. And the rest of my close friends I might have met through classes, but we'd be nowhere near as close.
I might not have stuck with the ballroom dance club on campus. If that hadn't happened, Dave wouldn't have happened either. I might have ended up as a dance major in college. I might not have gotten to this amount of curviness. I might have been anorexic or bulimic. I might not have had body image issues. I might not have had self-confidence issues. I might not be as passionate about anything I'm passionate about today. I might not have even gone to the same school. I might have been out in New York.
What if my kindergarten teacher hadn't been so amazing? I wouldn't have loved reading. I wouldn't have checked out over 20 books when I was younger every summer, every library trip. There's a chance I wouldn't have liked Harry Potter, or continued to read it. And in that case, there's a good chance I wouldn't have ended up a writer. Maybe I would've been better at science and math.
One small thing could've been different, and my whole life could have ended on a different path.
I don't really know what to write about tonight, all I know is that I want to write. That's a lie, I know what I want to write about, I just can't write it. I could write about what resolutions I've made for the new year, but they're pretty boring. I could write about how my Christmas turned out, but that feels like bragging. I could write about my boyfriend, but I'd like to get away from that theme on this blog. Starting new and such.
Have you ever thought about the past and how your life would have ended up if one thing had been different? For some reason I found myself thinking that a lot this break. How I might not have a brother or might not have moved out of Indiana if my mom hadn't needed a new car and subsequently met my (step)dad. How I might not have had the same drive and ambition to succeed if my (step)dad wasn't in my life. How I probably would've still ended up at the college I'm at anyway, but not known anyone I'm currently friends with.
Or if I hadn't dated some of the people I've dated. How different my personality would have been. How confident I may have been. How guarded I would be. If my views on relationships, on marriage, would be different. Or if some of them wouldn't have ended. Where would I be now? What would I be doing now? How would my blog have been this summer? Would my blog even exist?
Even further back. What if I had stayed in dance? Marching band may not have happened; instead, I could have been dancing in front of them at the football games. I may not have started saxophone; my whole high school experience could have been drastically different. In that case, my whole group of friends would have been different. Zack wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't know Anna or the Disney group. And the rest of my close friends I might have met through classes, but we'd be nowhere near as close.
I might not have stuck with the ballroom dance club on campus. If that hadn't happened, Dave wouldn't have happened either. I might have ended up as a dance major in college. I might not have gotten to this amount of curviness. I might have been anorexic or bulimic. I might not have had body image issues. I might not have had self-confidence issues. I might not be as passionate about anything I'm passionate about today. I might not have even gone to the same school. I might have been out in New York.
What if my kindergarten teacher hadn't been so amazing? I wouldn't have loved reading. I wouldn't have checked out over 20 books when I was younger every summer, every library trip. There's a chance I wouldn't have liked Harry Potter, or continued to read it. And in that case, there's a good chance I wouldn't have ended up a writer. Maybe I would've been better at science and math.
One small thing could've been different, and my whole life could have ended on a different path.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
I'll Be Home for Christmas
I'm home for break, and done with my Spanish minor. That in itself is cause for excitement and happiness. But I'm sitting in my room hardly unpacked, with a pile of laundry that needs to be done. Instead I'm taking the bit of alone time I can have to blog, and possibly write later.
I was going to write about my whole body image struggle, since I've recently discovered this amazing blog. I started to do that, and it just took so much out of me that I've put a stop to it. Let's just say that detailing my past through some pretty dark days doesn't help bring in holiday cheer. However, that blog is so positive that it's worth checking out (yours truly is thinking of posting something there).
So what else is there to write about today? I've been struggling with ideas all day. Well, that's a lie. I've had another one, but it's quite sad and it got me down while writing it, so I decided to ditch the idea. I want to write something cheerful! It's almost the holidays!
Well, I guess I'll just write about what the holidays mean to me. Normally, we have forced family fun days when I'm home. But the holidays are different. We get to eat good food, and I at least don't really have to try to have fun with them. Christmas is probably my favorite family holiday. Since we were younger we'd put up the tree, get the presents, keep them all secret, then put them under the tree on Christmas Eve.
When we were younger we just threw all the ornaments on the tree. My mom would put out all the crafts we made in classes as our decorations. We each had a stocking, and they were usually filled with candies, fruits, and an occasional watch or toothbrush. They were the first thing we'd check on Christmas morning. My dog even got a present from her stocking.
Then we'd move on to the presents. We'd have an elf who handed out the presents, and we'd all unwrap at once. Thank you's were exchanged. I miss the joy of thinking that Santa was awesome and got us what we wanted. Thanking the air, thinking that Santa could hear us, and knew how grateful we were to him. Now I realize it was my parents. I think they really enjoyed being Santa for us.
The presents have progressively gotten more expensive, and there have been less under the tree as we've grown. Opening presents has gotten to be a shorter time, and somehow we've added watching one of The Santa Clause movies as a tradition. Usually there's some kind of breakfast that's not cereal to eat, and it's not so much Christmas morning as it is Christmas day.
After presents, my mom works on Christmas dinner. My brother and I open some of our presents, and since there's usually one that's some sort of gadget, we take it out and start reading the directions. My dad watches The Santa Clause. But lately, there have been a few big changes to our routines.
Last year one of my half-sisters came to visit. Last year, there were issues with my dad's check arriving on time. Last year, there was only one present under the tree for me. Last year, we went Christmas shopping the day after (this has never happened). Last year, my one present was returned, and the day after Christmas shopping resulted in a few necessities and one video game.
This year my sister's not coming to visit. This year they didn't wait for me to put up the Christmas tree. This year, I just want Disney movies. This year, if I don't get Disney movies, I think I'll be getting professional clothing. This year, my parents have no Christmas spirit. This year, they're doing the bare minimum with decorations. This year, they're talking about Christmas with a defeated air. This year, it seems like they don't even want to try to make it cheerful.
This year, I think I'm the only one with any Christmas cheer. But this year, I'm going to infect everyone with Christmas cheer somehow, even if it takes me until Christmas Eve, or even Christmas Day, to do so. My family needs some Christmas cheer after the year we've had, so I'm going to deliver it to them.
No more Grinches in my house!
I was going to write about my whole body image struggle, since I've recently discovered this amazing blog. I started to do that, and it just took so much out of me that I've put a stop to it. Let's just say that detailing my past through some pretty dark days doesn't help bring in holiday cheer. However, that blog is so positive that it's worth checking out (yours truly is thinking of posting something there).
So what else is there to write about today? I've been struggling with ideas all day. Well, that's a lie. I've had another one, but it's quite sad and it got me down while writing it, so I decided to ditch the idea. I want to write something cheerful! It's almost the holidays!
Well, I guess I'll just write about what the holidays mean to me. Normally, we have forced family fun days when I'm home. But the holidays are different. We get to eat good food, and I at least don't really have to try to have fun with them. Christmas is probably my favorite family holiday. Since we were younger we'd put up the tree, get the presents, keep them all secret, then put them under the tree on Christmas Eve.
When we were younger we just threw all the ornaments on the tree. My mom would put out all the crafts we made in classes as our decorations. We each had a stocking, and they were usually filled with candies, fruits, and an occasional watch or toothbrush. They were the first thing we'd check on Christmas morning. My dog even got a present from her stocking.
Then we'd move on to the presents. We'd have an elf who handed out the presents, and we'd all unwrap at once. Thank you's were exchanged. I miss the joy of thinking that Santa was awesome and got us what we wanted. Thanking the air, thinking that Santa could hear us, and knew how grateful we were to him. Now I realize it was my parents. I think they really enjoyed being Santa for us.
The presents have progressively gotten more expensive, and there have been less under the tree as we've grown. Opening presents has gotten to be a shorter time, and somehow we've added watching one of The Santa Clause movies as a tradition. Usually there's some kind of breakfast that's not cereal to eat, and it's not so much Christmas morning as it is Christmas day.
After presents, my mom works on Christmas dinner. My brother and I open some of our presents, and since there's usually one that's some sort of gadget, we take it out and start reading the directions. My dad watches The Santa Clause. But lately, there have been a few big changes to our routines.
Last year one of my half-sisters came to visit. Last year, there were issues with my dad's check arriving on time. Last year, there was only one present under the tree for me. Last year, we went Christmas shopping the day after (this has never happened). Last year, my one present was returned, and the day after Christmas shopping resulted in a few necessities and one video game.
This year my sister's not coming to visit. This year they didn't wait for me to put up the Christmas tree. This year, I just want Disney movies. This year, if I don't get Disney movies, I think I'll be getting professional clothing. This year, my parents have no Christmas spirit. This year, they're doing the bare minimum with decorations. This year, they're talking about Christmas with a defeated air. This year, it seems like they don't even want to try to make it cheerful.
This year, I think I'm the only one with any Christmas cheer. But this year, I'm going to infect everyone with Christmas cheer somehow, even if it takes me until Christmas Eve, or even Christmas Day, to do so. My family needs some Christmas cheer after the year we've had, so I'm going to deliver it to them.
No more Grinches in my house!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
The Man Who Can't Be Moved
Well, it's finals week. Last week was swamped with things to do, from Tuesday night on. It wasn't fun, work-wise. But now it's good. I get to relax today and some of tomorrow. But onto writing things. Things that I don't really know what to write about. I've been going for so long that I don't really have anything in my head to write about.
We've had TBS on the TV while we've been studying. Mainly Friends. And it's been getting me thinking about my own friends, and my life. We're going to get an apartment next year, which means we'll be more on our own than we have been at college so far. We have to get furniture, pay rent, and cook. Oh good lord, cooking. That's an interesting thought. And then I'll be farther from campus, which should be interesting. But we get our own apartment.
And then what about next year? The last year I'll be on campus. The last year I'll be in Muncie, and probably living in Indiana. I know it's a year away, but for some reason I keep thinking about it. I have no idea where I'm going to end up. A lot of people are talking about going to grad school, but I really don't know why I'd go, or where I'd end up for that matter. I kind of wanna just go and jump into work already, or go to fashion/dance/photography/culinary school. Go do something I have an interest in and no background whatsoever.
The only reason I'd be going to grad school would be because I like being a student and have nothing else to do with my life. But really, I'm kind of sick of school and just want to get on with my life. I'm still very reliant on my parents, and I kind of want to start going on my own. But that's what the apartment will be for next year.
But I don't even know why I'm thinking about graduation when I don't have any idea where I'm going to intern this summer. That's what I should really be focusing on, but my mind keeps jumping to even further in the future. And I think it's mostly about my future relationships.
I don't really want to leave my friends behind, but I'm afraid that it'll happen when I go back home. It's already hard enough to keep in touch with a lot of them, and I'm afraid that when I go home it'll be even harder. I don't want to think like that, but I don't want to lose them. I've got a whole year and a half though, to change things and figure them all out. But I want to stay friends with everyone, kind of like in Friends. But more importantly, I want them to be like in Sex and the City. The four friends who stick together through everything well into their 30's. Weekly brunches and things like that.
I think I've been thinking too much, because I've even been thinking about people that I've just met, and how things will play out in the future. I've already become incredibly attached to this school, these people, my job, and this year in general. It makes me incredibly sad to think that because I'm just one state over, I won't be close to the people who have become my second family at school. So I guess I'll try and keep things the way they are with some, and improve them greatly for the rest.
*This has kind of been a throwaway post*
We've had TBS on the TV while we've been studying. Mainly Friends. And it's been getting me thinking about my own friends, and my life. We're going to get an apartment next year, which means we'll be more on our own than we have been at college so far. We have to get furniture, pay rent, and cook. Oh good lord, cooking. That's an interesting thought. And then I'll be farther from campus, which should be interesting. But we get our own apartment.
And then what about next year? The last year I'll be on campus. The last year I'll be in Muncie, and probably living in Indiana. I know it's a year away, but for some reason I keep thinking about it. I have no idea where I'm going to end up. A lot of people are talking about going to grad school, but I really don't know why I'd go, or where I'd end up for that matter. I kind of wanna just go and jump into work already, or go to fashion/dance/photography/culinary school. Go do something I have an interest in and no background whatsoever.
The only reason I'd be going to grad school would be because I like being a student and have nothing else to do with my life. But really, I'm kind of sick of school and just want to get on with my life. I'm still very reliant on my parents, and I kind of want to start going on my own. But that's what the apartment will be for next year.
But I don't even know why I'm thinking about graduation when I don't have any idea where I'm going to intern this summer. That's what I should really be focusing on, but my mind keeps jumping to even further in the future. And I think it's mostly about my future relationships.
I don't really want to leave my friends behind, but I'm afraid that it'll happen when I go back home. It's already hard enough to keep in touch with a lot of them, and I'm afraid that when I go home it'll be even harder. I don't want to think like that, but I don't want to lose them. I've got a whole year and a half though, to change things and figure them all out. But I want to stay friends with everyone, kind of like in Friends. But more importantly, I want them to be like in Sex and the City. The four friends who stick together through everything well into their 30's. Weekly brunches and things like that.
I think I've been thinking too much, because I've even been thinking about people that I've just met, and how things will play out in the future. I've already become incredibly attached to this school, these people, my job, and this year in general. It makes me incredibly sad to think that because I'm just one state over, I won't be close to the people who have become my second family at school. So I guess I'll try and keep things the way they are with some, and improve them greatly for the rest.
*This has kind of been a throwaway post*
Monday, December 6, 2010
A Matter of Trust
Hm. It's been awhile since I last wrote. At least, it feels like it.
I guess a bit has been going on since then. I came back to school, did more homework, lost all motivation for classes, and broke my longest single streak to date (rounded up to 8 months). And that's a joyous occasion, I think you'd agree. Not only did I wait it out, but now I think I've found someone who isn't like the rest. At the very least, he's been single for a year and a half and should be over all his ex-girlfriends.
But that doesn't change the fact that I haven't confided a lot of things to him, being Adam. I'm scared to, I'll be honest. The last guy I started to confide in just wanted to try and get in my pants, and the one before him, well, you know about that. I'm pretty sure that Adam's trustworthy and won't use that against me, but that doesn't change the fact that I still feel like I can't really trust, well, anyone really. At least, no one that I haven't known for a while, which has extended to include females.
Over the summer I thought it was that I just wasn't confiding in guys anymore, but some of the people I've met this year through work and have become quite close to, I don't want to tell them certain things about my past. And not because I'm trying to hide it; but because something's stopping me.
No one I've met this year has given me a reason to be nervous about telling them things, least of all Adam. In fact, he's been incredibly sweet to me. And even when I wrote that, I know there are things that if he came over right now and asked me about, I wouldn't tell him. I just have a feeling that he truly won't hurt me intentionally in any way, but I still can't tell him the things that have hurt me before. Mainly because the last time I thought that, he did. In the same way the rest did.
I don't know how this new fear of confiding in people will affect this, and us. It's bugging me, to be honest. But I can't seem to get past it, so I guess I'll just have to deal with it and see where it takes me.
Trust is a funny thing.
I guess a bit has been going on since then. I came back to school, did more homework, lost all motivation for classes, and broke my longest single streak to date (rounded up to 8 months). And that's a joyous occasion, I think you'd agree. Not only did I wait it out, but now I think I've found someone who isn't like the rest. At the very least, he's been single for a year and a half and should be over all his ex-girlfriends.
But that doesn't change the fact that I haven't confided a lot of things to him, being Adam. I'm scared to, I'll be honest. The last guy I started to confide in just wanted to try and get in my pants, and the one before him, well, you know about that. I'm pretty sure that Adam's trustworthy and won't use that against me, but that doesn't change the fact that I still feel like I can't really trust, well, anyone really. At least, no one that I haven't known for a while, which has extended to include females.
Over the summer I thought it was that I just wasn't confiding in guys anymore, but some of the people I've met this year through work and have become quite close to, I don't want to tell them certain things about my past. And not because I'm trying to hide it; but because something's stopping me.
No one I've met this year has given me a reason to be nervous about telling them things, least of all Adam. In fact, he's been incredibly sweet to me. And even when I wrote that, I know there are things that if he came over right now and asked me about, I wouldn't tell him. I just have a feeling that he truly won't hurt me intentionally in any way, but I still can't tell him the things that have hurt me before. Mainly because the last time I thought that, he did. In the same way the rest did.
I don't know how this new fear of confiding in people will affect this, and us. It's bugging me, to be honest. But I can't seem to get past it, so I guess I'll just have to deal with it and see where it takes me.
Trust is a funny thing.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Thank You
Obligatory Thanksgiving post coming up.
This is the first Thanksgiving in three years that I've been able to celebrate in my own house. Senior year (2007), my grandmother passed a few days before, so we were in Marion arranging her funeral. Freshman year (2008) we were in Ft Wayne with my mom's side of the family, since it was the first year anniversary of Mimi's death. Last year we were in Ohio, once again with my mom's side. But this year I get to celebrate the holidays with my family and friends, some of whom I consider my second family. I'm thankful for that.
I could sit here and write out the other things I'm thankful for, like the fact that my immediate family is still here, how my friends have stuck through my life, the opportunities I've had, and things like that. But that's what almost everyone else who is listing what they're thankful for is doing. I am truly thankful for all of the above, but this year there's something I'm thankful for that I've not been thankful for in a long time, if not ever.
Me.
I'm not trying to sound selfish or conceited, but I'm thankful for Dayna. Since I grew out of the phase of "everyone's my friend," I've also left behind that idea of being content with who I am. I've always felt the need to improve myself. I wanted to be one of the cool kids in elementary school, so I did everything they did and threw a tantrum when I couldn't be for some reason or other.
I tried to be like my best friends in middle school, since they seemed to have this sense of self-worth that I was lacking. And in high school, I tried to be the girl that someone, somewhere wanted to be with. But I was never trying to be someone I wanted to be. I was always trying to improve myself so that maybe, if everyone else liked me, then I could like me.
High school was the worst period of self-loathing, for lack of a better term. While I didn't really hate myself, I didn't really want to be me, either. And it seemed like constantly, no one else really minded if I were me or someone else, so long as I was there to listen to their problems and help them out. I did whatever I could think of to change myself into someone I liked, but it didn't really work. So I focused on being the girl that the boys I was interested in liked. As I've written before, I got my self-esteem from them.
And then college hit, and I was on my own. I had to be a person that I was going to rely on, because I had no one else with me to look out for me. I'm not sure if I changed into a better person over these past two and a half years, or if I just started to accept who I am, but I honestly think I started to change.
This past summer is the one I'm most thankful for, because this summer was the one that I started to like me. If you've stuck with me, you know what happened. If not, suffice it to say that I worked on things I've never confronted and came out with a different view of myself and my life.
So this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful that I'm the person I am today. Though it's taken me a good chunk of time to reach this place, I know that at least one person is thankful for the person I am today. Which is perfectly fine for me. If no one else is thankful for the person I've become, then they haven't really wanted the best for me.
My gratuitous post is now done.
This is the first Thanksgiving in three years that I've been able to celebrate in my own house. Senior year (2007), my grandmother passed a few days before, so we were in Marion arranging her funeral. Freshman year (2008) we were in Ft Wayne with my mom's side of the family, since it was the first year anniversary of Mimi's death. Last year we were in Ohio, once again with my mom's side. But this year I get to celebrate the holidays with my family and friends, some of whom I consider my second family. I'm thankful for that.
I could sit here and write out the other things I'm thankful for, like the fact that my immediate family is still here, how my friends have stuck through my life, the opportunities I've had, and things like that. But that's what almost everyone else who is listing what they're thankful for is doing. I am truly thankful for all of the above, but this year there's something I'm thankful for that I've not been thankful for in a long time, if not ever.
Me.
I'm not trying to sound selfish or conceited, but I'm thankful for Dayna. Since I grew out of the phase of "everyone's my friend," I've also left behind that idea of being content with who I am. I've always felt the need to improve myself. I wanted to be one of the cool kids in elementary school, so I did everything they did and threw a tantrum when I couldn't be for some reason or other.
I tried to be like my best friends in middle school, since they seemed to have this sense of self-worth that I was lacking. And in high school, I tried to be the girl that someone, somewhere wanted to be with. But I was never trying to be someone I wanted to be. I was always trying to improve myself so that maybe, if everyone else liked me, then I could like me.
High school was the worst period of self-loathing, for lack of a better term. While I didn't really hate myself, I didn't really want to be me, either. And it seemed like constantly, no one else really minded if I were me or someone else, so long as I was there to listen to their problems and help them out. I did whatever I could think of to change myself into someone I liked, but it didn't really work. So I focused on being the girl that the boys I was interested in liked. As I've written before, I got my self-esteem from them.
And then college hit, and I was on my own. I had to be a person that I was going to rely on, because I had no one else with me to look out for me. I'm not sure if I changed into a better person over these past two and a half years, or if I just started to accept who I am, but I honestly think I started to change.
This past summer is the one I'm most thankful for, because this summer was the one that I started to like me. If you've stuck with me, you know what happened. If not, suffice it to say that I worked on things I've never confronted and came out with a different view of myself and my life.
So this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful that I'm the person I am today. Though it's taken me a good chunk of time to reach this place, I know that at least one person is thankful for the person I am today. Which is perfectly fine for me. If no one else is thankful for the person I've become, then they haven't really wanted the best for me.
My gratuitous post is now done.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
What Makes You Different
I think I've missed two weekends of updating this. And the main reason is because I couldn't think of anything to write about. Sure, I've been a bit busier lately, but I haven't had anything really on my mind.
I'm not even sure why this particular remark stuck with me, but it's been there since she said it. I was talking to one of my friends who I met this year at work, and she said that I have a strong personality and it balances out with someone I'm interested in. And I've never been told I have a strong personality. It was a weird experience.
If you've taken the time to read any other entries (especially from over the summer with my 90 in 90 challenge), then you can see that I haven't had a strong personality for awhile. In fact, part of the reason why I think I have a "strong" personality is because of all the writing I did over the summer for this blog, and all the things I allowed myself to learn about life and, well, me.
I've been told that I'm a strong person before, on multiple occasions. I've dealt with some things internally that many people have issues dealing with even if they have others helping them. Not only did I get through those times, but I learned from them as well. My friends have praised me on how I've handled myself in spite of all of this. But no one who has just met me knows any of this.
So it was really weird for her to tell me that I've got a strong personality. The reason I had to be a "strong" person was because of my personality. I was a people pleaser. Not only that, but I was also a hopeless romantic who believed that if we loved each other, nothing else would matter. I thought that having that one and only was the biggest thing in my life to make me happy, and to make me valuable.
I relied too heavily on what the opposite sex thought about me. I gained my validation from them - how I felt about my appearance, how I felt about myself, and how I could keep those feelings coming. My personality traits that make me a strong personality right now were always silenced if they differed too heavily from whoever I was with or trying for. As a result, I was pretty much used and walked over for a few years.
I started to realize it sometime last year, and I started to allow certain traits to come out more. I was probably most myself in a relationship with Dave than I had been with anyone else, but that doesn't mean that I allowed everything to be seen by him. There were still things about me that he didn't see, mainly because I decided to keep those to myself. Granted, there were very few, but there were still some.
And then this summer happened, and I decided that enough was enough. I don't want to have to pretend or hide things about myself so that another guy can decide if he likes me or not, and then end up feeling like shit when everything ended. So that's where that summer came in. I worked through things and came out on the other side as a strong personality, I guess.
I was talking to someone else I met this year, and he was surprised when I said I wasn't nearly this confident last year. I take it to mean that I achieved my goal from the summer. Not only am I more confident, but I have a strong personality. I'm not as afraid to initially be myself around a guy I'm interested in. I've started to speak up about things that I do or don't want, and (to a lesser extent) things that bug me.
And I'm not that hopeless romantic who believes that finding that one true love will result in complete happiness. And my confidence does not need to come from some male telling me that he loves me. I don't need to be in a relationship to be happy; in fact, I've had a lot of fun being single. I think I've also started to approach things much more rationally and level-headed.
Which means that I think that lofty idea of the summer of change actually worked. Well done.
I'm not even sure why this particular remark stuck with me, but it's been there since she said it. I was talking to one of my friends who I met this year at work, and she said that I have a strong personality and it balances out with someone I'm interested in. And I've never been told I have a strong personality. It was a weird experience.
If you've taken the time to read any other entries (especially from over the summer with my 90 in 90 challenge), then you can see that I haven't had a strong personality for awhile. In fact, part of the reason why I think I have a "strong" personality is because of all the writing I did over the summer for this blog, and all the things I allowed myself to learn about life and, well, me.
I've been told that I'm a strong person before, on multiple occasions. I've dealt with some things internally that many people have issues dealing with even if they have others helping them. Not only did I get through those times, but I learned from them as well. My friends have praised me on how I've handled myself in spite of all of this. But no one who has just met me knows any of this.
So it was really weird for her to tell me that I've got a strong personality. The reason I had to be a "strong" person was because of my personality. I was a people pleaser. Not only that, but I was also a hopeless romantic who believed that if we loved each other, nothing else would matter. I thought that having that one and only was the biggest thing in my life to make me happy, and to make me valuable.
I relied too heavily on what the opposite sex thought about me. I gained my validation from them - how I felt about my appearance, how I felt about myself, and how I could keep those feelings coming. My personality traits that make me a strong personality right now were always silenced if they differed too heavily from whoever I was with or trying for. As a result, I was pretty much used and walked over for a few years.
I started to realize it sometime last year, and I started to allow certain traits to come out more. I was probably most myself in a relationship with Dave than I had been with anyone else, but that doesn't mean that I allowed everything to be seen by him. There were still things about me that he didn't see, mainly because I decided to keep those to myself. Granted, there were very few, but there were still some.
And then this summer happened, and I decided that enough was enough. I don't want to have to pretend or hide things about myself so that another guy can decide if he likes me or not, and then end up feeling like shit when everything ended. So that's where that summer came in. I worked through things and came out on the other side as a strong personality, I guess.
I was talking to someone else I met this year, and he was surprised when I said I wasn't nearly this confident last year. I take it to mean that I achieved my goal from the summer. Not only am I more confident, but I have a strong personality. I'm not as afraid to initially be myself around a guy I'm interested in. I've started to speak up about things that I do or don't want, and (to a lesser extent) things that bug me.
And I'm not that hopeless romantic who believes that finding that one true love will result in complete happiness. And my confidence does not need to come from some male telling me that he loves me. I don't need to be in a relationship to be happy; in fact, I've had a lot of fun being single. I think I've also started to approach things much more rationally and level-headed.
Which means that I think that lofty idea of the summer of change actually worked. Well done.
Monday, November 8, 2010
I Am Not a Whore
My life has become significantly less rushed since I've finished three of my five week classes.
And now, I can attempt to focus my energies on Spanish, which I'm sorry to say isn't really happening. I'm at the point where I really can't do much to bring up my grade until the next quiz, and I don't even know when that is. So that's kind of not much of a worry anymore. But that's alright, because I've got a lot of other drama to observe.
Mainly this idea of a one night stand. A few people that I've talked to have said that it's actually not as bad as you'd think it would be. I've even heard that it's recommended to have at least one in your lifetime, in a magazine no less. I won't lie and say that the thought of having one hasn't crossed my mind before. But I know that I wouldn't be able to go through with it once the time came.
Maybe it's because I'm not the stereotypical college student. I don't like going to big parties. I don't really enjoy the idea hooking up with just anyone. I don't need to drink to have fun; in fact, there are a lot of times when I just don't want to drink, but everyone around me does. I like relationships over random hookups or friends with benefits.
But some people that I know who I never thought would have a one night stand have, and they didn't turn out as bad as I expected. Granted, there were a few who got invested, but that's to be expected. I just know that I can't go through with it, mainly because I had an opportunity to do just that earlier, and it didn't happen.
Though that situation wasn't really a one night stand situation, because I had gotten to know him before the time came to actually do anything. But that's beside the point. I knew him and I wasn't going to get with him, so how is not knowing someone any better for me to hook up with them? I don't understand the logic.
I can't give myself away to just anyone. To be honest, until this summer I have never even kissed someone without any expectations. The only times I've kissed someone was when I was in a relationship, or expected to be in one shortly after. That is hard enough for me to deal with, so I really don't think sleeping with someone I don't know is something I can do.
And I know all the complications. I don't want to be viewed as just a sex object, because I have a brain as well. I don't like being underestimated, and I feel like if I just slept with someone that would be their highest expectation of me. I also know that I can and do get attached to people, and I view sex as something private. It's something to be shared between two people that love each other, so I'd probably feel like a whore after.
I guess that makes me really traditional in my views of sex then. But you know what? I think that if you really just want sex, then I don't want anything to do with you. So if waiting to get to know me and love me seems like a tough and unenjoyable concept, then I'm perfectly fine with you letting me know and then cutting off contact.
I like to think that this mentality makes me more mature, but at the same time maybe it's an immature view of sex. I'm not sure, but if you're reading this I'd really like to hear your thoughts.
And now, I can attempt to focus my energies on Spanish, which I'm sorry to say isn't really happening. I'm at the point where I really can't do much to bring up my grade until the next quiz, and I don't even know when that is. So that's kind of not much of a worry anymore. But that's alright, because I've got a lot of other drama to observe.
Mainly this idea of a one night stand. A few people that I've talked to have said that it's actually not as bad as you'd think it would be. I've even heard that it's recommended to have at least one in your lifetime, in a magazine no less. I won't lie and say that the thought of having one hasn't crossed my mind before. But I know that I wouldn't be able to go through with it once the time came.
Maybe it's because I'm not the stereotypical college student. I don't like going to big parties. I don't really enjoy the idea hooking up with just anyone. I don't need to drink to have fun; in fact, there are a lot of times when I just don't want to drink, but everyone around me does. I like relationships over random hookups or friends with benefits.
But some people that I know who I never thought would have a one night stand have, and they didn't turn out as bad as I expected. Granted, there were a few who got invested, but that's to be expected. I just know that I can't go through with it, mainly because I had an opportunity to do just that earlier, and it didn't happen.
Though that situation wasn't really a one night stand situation, because I had gotten to know him before the time came to actually do anything. But that's beside the point. I knew him and I wasn't going to get with him, so how is not knowing someone any better for me to hook up with them? I don't understand the logic.
I can't give myself away to just anyone. To be honest, until this summer I have never even kissed someone without any expectations. The only times I've kissed someone was when I was in a relationship, or expected to be in one shortly after. That is hard enough for me to deal with, so I really don't think sleeping with someone I don't know is something I can do.
And I know all the complications. I don't want to be viewed as just a sex object, because I have a brain as well. I don't like being underestimated, and I feel like if I just slept with someone that would be their highest expectation of me. I also know that I can and do get attached to people, and I view sex as something private. It's something to be shared between two people that love each other, so I'd probably feel like a whore after.
I guess that makes me really traditional in my views of sex then. But you know what? I think that if you really just want sex, then I don't want anything to do with you. So if waiting to get to know me and love me seems like a tough and unenjoyable concept, then I'm perfectly fine with you letting me know and then cutting off contact.
I like to think that this mentality makes me more mature, but at the same time maybe it's an immature view of sex. I'm not sure, but if you're reading this I'd really like to hear your thoughts.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Halloween
So I actually had a pretty good week.
I got all my projects done, didn't work too much, and had a free weekend. I helped to organize a Halloween party for work, and that was a lot of fun. Though I didn't study as much as I should have because of it, since I had two tests on Friday. But Friday night I went to a friend's for a party, and it was nice to hang out with them because I don't get to see them very often anymore. Then last night I went to a co-worker's party, and heard about all the shenanigans that I had missed since I went to a friend's instead of my boss' party. And here's when I start in on Halloween.
My friends, people I don't know, even movies like Mean Girls say that Halloween is the only holiday a girl can dress like a slut and no one can say anything about it. Well, here's my thing: If you look like a slut, I'm gonna say something. I might not say it to your face, but believe me, I am judging your slutty ass in that skimpy costume. I don't care how "hot" you are, you still look like a whore.
And that's the thing I really don't like about this holiday. I don't like dressing like a slut, and my version of tarty clothing is different than a lot of peoples'. But trying to find a costume that's not ho-tastic is incredibly frustrating. What makes it worse is that I have these things called curves, which makes the skirts shorter in the back and the tops tighter. Of course, a good 90% of all womens' costumes have skirts (big surprise there). Unless you make your costume, you're in danger of having some part of your costume show more skin than necessary, and for me comfortable.
But when did this holiday become this way? I don't remember skanky costumes when I was younger being advertised in the Halloween stores. The kids' costumes are having less material as well. I don't understand why this holiday means we put our bodies on display for drunken guys to ogle at. Quite frankly, I'd rather have attention from a sober guy in my regular clothes than the drunken guy who likes me because I'm a "princess" or a "superhero" whose costume is nowhere near conducive to fighting crime (or covering up).
My Halloween costumes are tasteful, I believe. I've been a spy for a few years, I was a fairy once (with a cami to cover my cleavage), I was a pirate freshman year with the rest of my friends, I was Catwoman last year and the only skin you could see was from the neck up, and this year I was a few things. I was the "Walk of Shame" for work (which was a lot of fun), I was a ringleader at the smaller party, and I was Little Red/Dead Riding Hood for the co-worker's party.
I wore the same black tights to all the parties. I had shorts on for each costume. And my top was covered as well. Sure, the dress was shorter than anything I wear, but my costume choices were rather conservative compared to other peoples'. And to be honest, though I was wearing shorts I didn't feel completely comfortable in it. And I got "cute costume" the whole night. Let's be honest, I wanted more than cute costume. I guess since for me it was "sexier" than what I'm used to, it was just normal for everyone else.
I had fun in my costume. I liked my costume a lot. I did think it was cute. I wasn't going for sexy. Which is why I'm confused as to why I'm annoyed I didn't get anything more than cute. Maybe it's because of the reputation Halloween has. Though I don't want to look like a slut, it does get you down after awhile of being ignored when the friends you came with keep getting hit on. Especially when you think and have been told that you're more attractive than them, even if it is just by friends who are female.
I want to take back Halloween. I want to have a fun costume, be it funny or homemade or sexy, whatever I feel like being that day/year. I want to go trick-or-treating, because free candy is amazing. I want to talk to people because they have a pretty sweet costume, and I want people to talk to me because of the same reason. I want to spend weeks getting excited about it, and maybe going to a haunted house or watching scary movies.
Seems to me I want to go back to being a kid.
I got all my projects done, didn't work too much, and had a free weekend. I helped to organize a Halloween party for work, and that was a lot of fun. Though I didn't study as much as I should have because of it, since I had two tests on Friday. But Friday night I went to a friend's for a party, and it was nice to hang out with them because I don't get to see them very often anymore. Then last night I went to a co-worker's party, and heard about all the shenanigans that I had missed since I went to a friend's instead of my boss' party. And here's when I start in on Halloween.
My friends, people I don't know, even movies like Mean Girls say that Halloween is the only holiday a girl can dress like a slut and no one can say anything about it. Well, here's my thing: If you look like a slut, I'm gonna say something. I might not say it to your face, but believe me, I am judging your slutty ass in that skimpy costume. I don't care how "hot" you are, you still look like a whore.
And that's the thing I really don't like about this holiday. I don't like dressing like a slut, and my version of tarty clothing is different than a lot of peoples'. But trying to find a costume that's not ho-tastic is incredibly frustrating. What makes it worse is that I have these things called curves, which makes the skirts shorter in the back and the tops tighter. Of course, a good 90% of all womens' costumes have skirts (big surprise there). Unless you make your costume, you're in danger of having some part of your costume show more skin than necessary, and for me comfortable.
But when did this holiday become this way? I don't remember skanky costumes when I was younger being advertised in the Halloween stores. The kids' costumes are having less material as well. I don't understand why this holiday means we put our bodies on display for drunken guys to ogle at. Quite frankly, I'd rather have attention from a sober guy in my regular clothes than the drunken guy who likes me because I'm a "princess" or a "superhero" whose costume is nowhere near conducive to fighting crime (or covering up).
My Halloween costumes are tasteful, I believe. I've been a spy for a few years, I was a fairy once (with a cami to cover my cleavage), I was a pirate freshman year with the rest of my friends, I was Catwoman last year and the only skin you could see was from the neck up, and this year I was a few things. I was the "Walk of Shame" for work (which was a lot of fun), I was a ringleader at the smaller party, and I was Little Red/Dead Riding Hood for the co-worker's party.
I wore the same black tights to all the parties. I had shorts on for each costume. And my top was covered as well. Sure, the dress was shorter than anything I wear, but my costume choices were rather conservative compared to other peoples'. And to be honest, though I was wearing shorts I didn't feel completely comfortable in it. And I got "cute costume" the whole night. Let's be honest, I wanted more than cute costume. I guess since for me it was "sexier" than what I'm used to, it was just normal for everyone else.
I had fun in my costume. I liked my costume a lot. I did think it was cute. I wasn't going for sexy. Which is why I'm confused as to why I'm annoyed I didn't get anything more than cute. Maybe it's because of the reputation Halloween has. Though I don't want to look like a slut, it does get you down after awhile of being ignored when the friends you came with keep getting hit on. Especially when you think and have been told that you're more attractive than them, even if it is just by friends who are female.
I want to take back Halloween. I want to have a fun costume, be it funny or homemade or sexy, whatever I feel like being that day/year. I want to go trick-or-treating, because free candy is amazing. I want to talk to people because they have a pretty sweet costume, and I want people to talk to me because of the same reason. I want to spend weeks getting excited about it, and maybe going to a haunted house or watching scary movies.
Seems to me I want to go back to being a kid.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Fight For All the Wrong Reasons
Thankfully I've had a slightly less stressful week. I'm home now, going to a concert in a few hours.
Since I've actually almost had some time to myself, I've been watching a little more TV than I usually get to, or a movie here and there. And I started watching Save the Last Dance, and I had been watching another TV show earlier this week, and it got me thinking about something that seems really prevalent in these types of things.
Whenever there's a fight scene and the antagonist decides he (or she) has to send a message to the protagonist through a physical means, usually the antagonist isn't alone. Usually, when the protagonist needs to be roughed up, the antagonist has a few of his (or her) friends come with and hold the protagonist back. While they're doing this, they're also usually yelling at the protagonist for being a coward or something like that.
Here's what I don't understand about these people: If you're calling them a coward or weak or something, then why are you the one that has to have back up so you all can effectively beat them up? One on three really isn't courageous, and it's definitely not honorable. If you're fighting for honor or something, then take them on one on one. If you can't take them alone, then why are you making them such a target?
Another thing that doesn't make any sense to me is this standard of preferring men over women. I just finished reading A Thousand Splendid Suns, and the husband is so preoccupied with having a son. He completely ignores his daughter, and then the Taliban takes over and prohibits women of pretty much anything. I don't understand why you would disown a girl, abuse her, kill her, or starve her to death.
First off, she's still a human. That's the main reason why you shouldn't do that. But what I don't understand is, what if everyone in that society decided to do that? Kill off all the newborn girls, and keep the newborn boys only. What happens when they grow up? Men can't really procreate by themselves, so isn't that effectively killing your society? Yes, there may be a few older women still around, but there's a good chance they can't have any more children by the time this happens.
I don't know if I'm a feminist, per se. I mean, I'm perfectly OK if a draft comes along and I'm exempt because I'm a woman. I do not like being seen as only something for sex (which seems to be becoming extremely common now, for some reason). I can handle being paid a few cents less here and there. At my old job, I was actually paid more than the guys I worked with. I haven't really encountered anything that makes me feel like I should have to fight for more rights for women, except for rape laws.
But that's not the point of this. The point is that there are things that seem to occur frequently that I have no clue how it makes sense. Killing all the women is silly. Wanting to have a baby boy makes sense, but a child's still a child, and they're still your child. And fighting for honor is not honorable when you don't even have the balls to fight one on one.
Sometimes, I really don't understand people.
Since I've actually almost had some time to myself, I've been watching a little more TV than I usually get to, or a movie here and there. And I started watching Save the Last Dance, and I had been watching another TV show earlier this week, and it got me thinking about something that seems really prevalent in these types of things.
Whenever there's a fight scene and the antagonist decides he (or she) has to send a message to the protagonist through a physical means, usually the antagonist isn't alone. Usually, when the protagonist needs to be roughed up, the antagonist has a few of his (or her) friends come with and hold the protagonist back. While they're doing this, they're also usually yelling at the protagonist for being a coward or something like that.
Here's what I don't understand about these people: If you're calling them a coward or weak or something, then why are you the one that has to have back up so you all can effectively beat them up? One on three really isn't courageous, and it's definitely not honorable. If you're fighting for honor or something, then take them on one on one. If you can't take them alone, then why are you making them such a target?
Another thing that doesn't make any sense to me is this standard of preferring men over women. I just finished reading A Thousand Splendid Suns, and the husband is so preoccupied with having a son. He completely ignores his daughter, and then the Taliban takes over and prohibits women of pretty much anything. I don't understand why you would disown a girl, abuse her, kill her, or starve her to death.
First off, she's still a human. That's the main reason why you shouldn't do that. But what I don't understand is, what if everyone in that society decided to do that? Kill off all the newborn girls, and keep the newborn boys only. What happens when they grow up? Men can't really procreate by themselves, so isn't that effectively killing your society? Yes, there may be a few older women still around, but there's a good chance they can't have any more children by the time this happens.
I don't know if I'm a feminist, per se. I mean, I'm perfectly OK if a draft comes along and I'm exempt because I'm a woman. I do not like being seen as only something for sex (which seems to be becoming extremely common now, for some reason). I can handle being paid a few cents less here and there. At my old job, I was actually paid more than the guys I worked with. I haven't really encountered anything that makes me feel like I should have to fight for more rights for women, except for rape laws.
But that's not the point of this. The point is that there are things that seem to occur frequently that I have no clue how it makes sense. Killing all the women is silly. Wanting to have a baby boy makes sense, but a child's still a child, and they're still your child. And fighting for honor is not honorable when you don't even have the balls to fight one on one.
Sometimes, I really don't understand people.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Breakin' At the Cracks
This past week wasn't too busy for me, actually.
But I haven't had much to write about, blogging-wise. I've wanted to write for the past week, I just haven't really had a chance to. I really can't write if there are others around, and Tif's been in the room this whole week. I really don't think I've got anything new on my mind that I haven't already written about.
The cycle of thoughts since I last wrote have been: Death, being lonely, being sick of sickeningly sweet coupling (mainly from TV/movies), wanting to write some stories, work, and Halloween. I've wanted to fence in the mornings, but by the time practice rolls around I don't do anything. I've been forgetting about a lot of homework, and I'm almost apathetic to my Spanish class right now. I kind of just don't care about this thing called school lately.
I think I'm starting to burn out. This semester I've only had time for school and sleep, and no social life outside of work. Pretty sure that's taking its toll on me now. But it's not really like anyone else wants to help with this social life aspect that I haven't met at the wall, besides for Tif. I love talking to people. I like doing things that don't involve speaking Spanish or learning history. I like being with people.
I just feel like I'm complaining right now, so I'm going to go find something to do. There may be another mini-post this week to make up for this.
But I haven't had much to write about, blogging-wise. I've wanted to write for the past week, I just haven't really had a chance to. I really can't write if there are others around, and Tif's been in the room this whole week. I really don't think I've got anything new on my mind that I haven't already written about.
The cycle of thoughts since I last wrote have been: Death, being lonely, being sick of sickeningly sweet coupling (mainly from TV/movies), wanting to write some stories, work, and Halloween. I've wanted to fence in the mornings, but by the time practice rolls around I don't do anything. I've been forgetting about a lot of homework, and I'm almost apathetic to my Spanish class right now. I kind of just don't care about this thing called school lately.
I think I'm starting to burn out. This semester I've only had time for school and sleep, and no social life outside of work. Pretty sure that's taking its toll on me now. But it's not really like anyone else wants to help with this social life aspect that I haven't met at the wall, besides for Tif. I love talking to people. I like doing things that don't involve speaking Spanish or learning history. I like being with people.
I just feel like I'm complaining right now, so I'm going to go find something to do. There may be another mini-post this week to make up for this.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Dead and Gone
It's been a rough week.
My uncle died Sunday night (10/3). I've been so busy with work and school that I haven't really had a chance to process it, and I won't even be able to go to the funeral because I can't afford to miss any of my classes. I feel bad that I won't be able to go, but I only recently reconnected with him, so we weren't that close. I feel bad that I'm making school my priority, and not my family. I know my mom could use me right now.
I'm going to admit something here that I've only admitted to one other person: I think I don't deal with death very well. This is now the fourth family member whose died in recent years: My grandpa in 8th grade, my uncle on my dad's side a few weeks later, my grandma senior year, and my uncle this week. I haven't really cried for any of them, save my grandma. I think it might be because I didn't really know them too well, but I still feel like I should have stronger reactions.
I sat at the funeral of my grandpa silently, with maybe a few tears coming out. I'm not sure if I cried for my Uncle Robert a few weeks after. And I cried for my grandma, who I knew the best out of all of them. I think a part of that, though, was because of my mother's reaction. It was horrible and I'm tearing up right now just thinking about it.
These people are family, and I can't muster up any tears for them. Yes, I feel sad, but the feeling passes fairly quickly. I was more upset over Dave dumping me than I've been for any of them dying combined. Hell, I think I've cried over movie characters more than I have over any family members, and I feel like that's just not right.
I feel like a horrible person for not mourning for many of my family members, and mourning over fictionalized events instead. And even worse because my Uncle Bryant was 47, and died of a stroke. After about an hour I started to worry about my mother, who is older than him, but still from the same side of the family. She's already had an unexplained heart attack, so something like this could potentially happen to her too.
I don't want to think about it. I don't want to imagine how I'd feel if my mother died. I'm scared that I'll have the same reaction to her death, or my father's, or my brother's, as I did with my grandma. I'm scared that I could have a stronger reaction to one of my friends' deaths than theirs. That's not supposed to happen.
The thought also came up that maybe I'm just good at dealing with death. I don't let it consume me or my mind. I don't wallow, I don't wonder what if. Maybe I'm not afraid of death, and that's why I don't get so choked up over it. Maybe I've taken Dumbledore's (and J.K. Rowling's) words to heart: To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.
Or maybe I just can't spare any emotions for people who have gone on.
My uncle died Sunday night (10/3). I've been so busy with work and school that I haven't really had a chance to process it, and I won't even be able to go to the funeral because I can't afford to miss any of my classes. I feel bad that I won't be able to go, but I only recently reconnected with him, so we weren't that close. I feel bad that I'm making school my priority, and not my family. I know my mom could use me right now.
I'm going to admit something here that I've only admitted to one other person: I think I don't deal with death very well. This is now the fourth family member whose died in recent years: My grandpa in 8th grade, my uncle on my dad's side a few weeks later, my grandma senior year, and my uncle this week. I haven't really cried for any of them, save my grandma. I think it might be because I didn't really know them too well, but I still feel like I should have stronger reactions.
I sat at the funeral of my grandpa silently, with maybe a few tears coming out. I'm not sure if I cried for my Uncle Robert a few weeks after. And I cried for my grandma, who I knew the best out of all of them. I think a part of that, though, was because of my mother's reaction. It was horrible and I'm tearing up right now just thinking about it.
These people are family, and I can't muster up any tears for them. Yes, I feel sad, but the feeling passes fairly quickly. I was more upset over Dave dumping me than I've been for any of them dying combined. Hell, I think I've cried over movie characters more than I have over any family members, and I feel like that's just not right.
I feel like a horrible person for not mourning for many of my family members, and mourning over fictionalized events instead. And even worse because my Uncle Bryant was 47, and died of a stroke. After about an hour I started to worry about my mother, who is older than him, but still from the same side of the family. She's already had an unexplained heart attack, so something like this could potentially happen to her too.
I don't want to think about it. I don't want to imagine how I'd feel if my mother died. I'm scared that I'll have the same reaction to her death, or my father's, or my brother's, as I did with my grandma. I'm scared that I could have a stronger reaction to one of my friends' deaths than theirs. That's not supposed to happen.
The thought also came up that maybe I'm just good at dealing with death. I don't let it consume me or my mind. I don't wallow, I don't wonder what if. Maybe I'm not afraid of death, and that's why I don't get so choked up over it. Maybe I've taken Dumbledore's (and J.K. Rowling's) words to heart: To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.
Or maybe I just can't spare any emotions for people who have gone on.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
All I Can Do is Write About It
It's Saturday night, I'm sitting in pajamas with SNL on, trying to figure out what homework I want to do next. I've been alone all weekend again. Such is life I guess.
I don't really have a lot of time to think about a lot of things during my week anymore. This past one was so tolling on me that I almost had a few break downs because of my Spanish class and my iPod getting stolen. I didn't realize how attached I was to that thing until it went missing. But that's not what I want to write about tonight, though I'm not sure what it is I want to write about.
I've noticed a lot lately that people get incredibly interested when I tell them I'm a journalism major. Usually it's a good kind of interested, which I haven't really expected because so many people don't hold journalists in high regard. But people who I talk to start to ask me a lot of questions about what I want to do after I graduate, why I went into journalism, and who I hope to eventually interview.
Like today. I went to the mall and an older gentleman was waiting for his daughter to meet up with him so they could go do something else. He asked what my major was, and what I want to do with my life as a journalist. This is almost always the first question that I get when I tell people my major, especially if I throw magazine in there. They usually get surprised when I tell them my answer of write for Time down the line.
But they do have a good point. What am I doing after I get out of here? I don't even know where I'm going to intern this summer, though that's not for a lack of trying to find somewhere. For now, though, I'm not really too worried about that. But I digress. This man was very interested in my passion for writing, and proceeded to tell me about how Taylor University has an incredible writing program that I now want to check out.
Later today, I was doing my homework for my photo class. The assignment was to take a close-up of 20 strangers and get basic info about them. Everyone I asked was very helpful, and some of them were really interested in why I had to take pictures. I had a family come in and talk to me about why I chose Time over all the other magazines, and we started talking about the other magazines I'd like to write for. We also talked about the fact that they're teaching us everything we could be asked to do, and how Ball State is doing a good job of making us really marketable.
I wish I could've taken some of these classes for longer than five weeks. I feel like there's so much more I could learn that I want to learn, but there's just not enough time. I'm glad I got the chance to take a lot of these, but I want more. Like photo. I kind of wish I had double majored in magazine and photo, but I think it's probably too late to try and do that.
I realized that again tonight, when I was taking the pictures. I've written before about wanting to learn this profession, but having no way of learning. Tonight I also got to do mini-interviews, so now I want to go out and interview people again. Which is good, because I'm taking an interview class, and that's something I've missed lately. And writing. I just don't have any time. Or place to publish.
I know I want to get out there and be able to do interview of famous people. There's one that I aspire to get, and that's J.K. Rowling (of course). I even have an idea of how I can pitch that story idea, though I'm going to keep that to myself. I don't even really want to go out there and interview a lot of famous people. I just want to interview people who are passionate about something. I want to write stories that interest me. I kind of want to be known for stories about body image issues, I think.
So basically, I'm pretty sure I picked the right major for me. Go me. I'm just going to end this post, because I'm thoroughly distracted and I don't think this makes much sense at all. But I hope you enjoyed my rambles about people being interested in journalists.
I don't really have a lot of time to think about a lot of things during my week anymore. This past one was so tolling on me that I almost had a few break downs because of my Spanish class and my iPod getting stolen. I didn't realize how attached I was to that thing until it went missing. But that's not what I want to write about tonight, though I'm not sure what it is I want to write about.
I've noticed a lot lately that people get incredibly interested when I tell them I'm a journalism major. Usually it's a good kind of interested, which I haven't really expected because so many people don't hold journalists in high regard. But people who I talk to start to ask me a lot of questions about what I want to do after I graduate, why I went into journalism, and who I hope to eventually interview.
Like today. I went to the mall and an older gentleman was waiting for his daughter to meet up with him so they could go do something else. He asked what my major was, and what I want to do with my life as a journalist. This is almost always the first question that I get when I tell people my major, especially if I throw magazine in there. They usually get surprised when I tell them my answer of write for Time down the line.
But they do have a good point. What am I doing after I get out of here? I don't even know where I'm going to intern this summer, though that's not for a lack of trying to find somewhere. For now, though, I'm not really too worried about that. But I digress. This man was very interested in my passion for writing, and proceeded to tell me about how Taylor University has an incredible writing program that I now want to check out.
Later today, I was doing my homework for my photo class. The assignment was to take a close-up of 20 strangers and get basic info about them. Everyone I asked was very helpful, and some of them were really interested in why I had to take pictures. I had a family come in and talk to me about why I chose Time over all the other magazines, and we started talking about the other magazines I'd like to write for. We also talked about the fact that they're teaching us everything we could be asked to do, and how Ball State is doing a good job of making us really marketable.
I wish I could've taken some of these classes for longer than five weeks. I feel like there's so much more I could learn that I want to learn, but there's just not enough time. I'm glad I got the chance to take a lot of these, but I want more. Like photo. I kind of wish I had double majored in magazine and photo, but I think it's probably too late to try and do that.
I realized that again tonight, when I was taking the pictures. I've written before about wanting to learn this profession, but having no way of learning. Tonight I also got to do mini-interviews, so now I want to go out and interview people again. Which is good, because I'm taking an interview class, and that's something I've missed lately. And writing. I just don't have any time. Or place to publish.
I know I want to get out there and be able to do interview of famous people. There's one that I aspire to get, and that's J.K. Rowling (of course). I even have an idea of how I can pitch that story idea, though I'm going to keep that to myself. I don't even really want to go out there and interview a lot of famous people. I just want to interview people who are passionate about something. I want to write stories that interest me. I kind of want to be known for stories about body image issues, I think.
So basically, I'm pretty sure I picked the right major for me. Go me. I'm just going to end this post, because I'm thoroughly distracted and I don't think this makes much sense at all. But I hope you enjoyed my rambles about people being interested in journalists.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Someday You Will be Loved
It's been awhile since I last wrote something. That's mainly because I've had the worst writer's block lately. I have no idea what I'm going to write about today.
This is the first time that I've known how long I'll have alone time, and you know what? I don't really want to have the room to myself. I feel like being social and having fun with my friends. But I can't do that. Tif's at a self defense seminar all day, Lauren's at CPR training or celebrating her six month anniversary, and Tori's at Mounds Park doing archeological things. Jackie's back home with her boyfriend, and I don't really know anyone else that well that I'd like to hang out with.
No one from home is available to talk to, and I don't even think I'd have anything to talk to anyone about since I think I'm getting sick and I'm sleepy. Unfortunately, today is the point in time of being single where you kind of miss being in a relationship. I could've planned out a great day with him, ending in seeing Sharktopus on SyFy (which looks hilarious). Instead, I'm trying to think of things to write about and eventually going to Tif's self-defense seminar. I know I don't need to be in a relationship to be happy (unlike some people), but I'm starting to almost miss it a bit.
I'm at the point where I miss the cuddling. I miss getting a random text message. I miss knowing that at some point in time, someone's probably thinking about me. I miss having someone who wants to be around me. But really, that's about all that I miss about having a relationship/boyfriend.
I don't miss kissing anymore, or anything else that can progress from that. I don't miss trying to fit seeing him into my already stressful and busy schedule. I don't miss having to deal with other girls hitting on him and watching him flirt back. (Though I also miss not getting hit on or eye-f*cked.) I don't miss being frustrated with things he does. I almost don't miss that rush that you get when you're with them. I kind of don't miss being in love.
This is a first for me. I don't want to be in a relationship. I don't want to fall in love. What I want is to go on dates with people. What I want is good conversation. What I want is someone to talk to me with the intent of getting to know me, not getting in my pants. What I want is for someone to give me a hug when I need it, and watch a movie with me. What I want is to explore new interests, either for two people or just for me. What I want is to see someone do something they're passionate about, or hear them talk about it. What I want is adventure, something new to me.
Maybe I do want love then. Maybe that's the type of love I'm looking for. Not the type where you rush into things, and show your love through a physical means. Maybe I want deep, true love, where you're connected not only physically, but emotionally and intellectually.
I don't think I'll find that type of love here. I don't think I should find that type of love here. After my undergrad I'm not going to stay in Indiana. I'll probably go back home, maybe even to New York. So really, what's the point in finding that big love and expecting them to follow me? Especially since most of their family is probably still in Indiana.
But then again, maybe that's what you do when you truly love somebody.
This is the first time that I've known how long I'll have alone time, and you know what? I don't really want to have the room to myself. I feel like being social and having fun with my friends. But I can't do that. Tif's at a self defense seminar all day, Lauren's at CPR training or celebrating her six month anniversary, and Tori's at Mounds Park doing archeological things. Jackie's back home with her boyfriend, and I don't really know anyone else that well that I'd like to hang out with.
No one from home is available to talk to, and I don't even think I'd have anything to talk to anyone about since I think I'm getting sick and I'm sleepy. Unfortunately, today is the point in time of being single where you kind of miss being in a relationship. I could've planned out a great day with him, ending in seeing Sharktopus on SyFy (which looks hilarious). Instead, I'm trying to think of things to write about and eventually going to Tif's self-defense seminar. I know I don't need to be in a relationship to be happy (unlike some people), but I'm starting to almost miss it a bit.
I'm at the point where I miss the cuddling. I miss getting a random text message. I miss knowing that at some point in time, someone's probably thinking about me. I miss having someone who wants to be around me. But really, that's about all that I miss about having a relationship/boyfriend.
I don't miss kissing anymore, or anything else that can progress from that. I don't miss trying to fit seeing him into my already stressful and busy schedule. I don't miss having to deal with other girls hitting on him and watching him flirt back. (Though I also miss not getting hit on or eye-f*cked.) I don't miss being frustrated with things he does. I almost don't miss that rush that you get when you're with them. I kind of don't miss being in love.
This is a first for me. I don't want to be in a relationship. I don't want to fall in love. What I want is to go on dates with people. What I want is good conversation. What I want is someone to talk to me with the intent of getting to know me, not getting in my pants. What I want is for someone to give me a hug when I need it, and watch a movie with me. What I want is to explore new interests, either for two people or just for me. What I want is to see someone do something they're passionate about, or hear them talk about it. What I want is adventure, something new to me.
Maybe I do want love then. Maybe that's the type of love I'm looking for. Not the type where you rush into things, and show your love through a physical means. Maybe I want deep, true love, where you're connected not only physically, but emotionally and intellectually.
I don't think I'll find that type of love here. I don't think I should find that type of love here. After my undergrad I'm not going to stay in Indiana. I'll probably go back home, maybe even to New York. So really, what's the point in finding that big love and expecting them to follow me? Especially since most of their family is probably still in Indiana.
But then again, maybe that's what you do when you truly love somebody.
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