Yesterday's word was phantasmagorical. Seriously, Paula, why are your comments disappearing? I get e-mails about them but they aren't on my posts... it's starting to weird me out.
I hemmed a pair of dress pants yesterday. I'm glad I'm too short, rather than too tall, but having to always hem pants to make them the right length is annoying. I wore said dress pants today with a pair of heels. (I normally just put on heels when I get to the office if it's a heels kind of day, but for some reason I decided the first truly rainy day we've had in months was a good day to wear heels across campus.)
I sorta expected to get blisters, but my feet are fine. However, on the way back to my car, (After the whole world had hours and hours to get good and misted.) I was leaving Carrington. (I cut through Carrington every day I work on my way to the library from the BSU parking lot.)
Man! I'm loving the parentheses tonight!
As I was saying (before I interrupted myself with parentheses) I was leaving Carrington this evening and that cement just at the entry of Carrington is crazy slick! So I took a couple of steps and suddenly my foot wasn't stopping and suddenly I was doing the American splits (and surprisingly adroitly, considering that I had no control over my foot as it slipped out from under me.) Well, not quite the American splits because one of my knees was bent... I don't think there was anyone around who saw it... Which I'm both relieved and sad about.
So now my knee has a bit of skin scraped off it, and there is a spot on my slacks that is a little roughed up, but my dress pants can apparently double as yoga pants? I was kinda impressed with them.
Long weekend... but I'm gonna try to actually use it to get homework done... I have to get back in the habit of doing homework, because it takes longer than I guess it will. I also need to take advantage of the fact that I can stay up so late, rather than trying to go to bed and do homework in the morning cause that just never works out well for me... mainly because I think that I can do it faster than I actually can.
That said, I still love it... and I also love that my ga-ship is all about lots of projects that take a day or two or a few hours... I love projects that I can just put my head down and plow through. I just worked on one thing all day today... one thing with 12 little parts and some of those little parts also had little parts... it was great. And I couldn't finish it all at once, so Wed. here I come!
Oh... I wonder where all my parentheses went... Sad. (I kinda miss them.)
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
"The Birth of the Bard" *
Yesterday's word was: mentee- So close, Rhonda! (As a side note, you are most likely to choose the word that I purposely throw in as a red herring, which probably says something about the way we think...) Also Paula, your comment from yesterday disappeared.. And that was a great verse. :) Michael's comment also ran away... Hopefully you guys removed them and I don't have some random comment eating gremlin on my blog.
A phantasmagoric quote from class tonight.
It was the last thing that was said, and I think something that is going to stick with me for quite some time, though I may have already forgotten most of the rest of those three hours.
"The poet is born at the death of Adonis. Venus becomes no longer a goddess but a human because she can understand what human love is. Indeed she decrees that henceforth love goes along with pain and disappointment to mirror her own experience with Adonis. And the flower that comes from Adonis's blood spilled on the ground is Shakespeare, because he, too is being born as a poet, as a bard, in love and pain. Because a poet is someone who understands life and love and pain more deeply than most people bother to look." -James Baumlin lecturing on the theory of his wife, Tita Baumlin.
I'm not sure that this quote translates to how *deeply* I felt it, when Dr. Mr. Baumlin said it.
But as he was speaking it was almost as if he was striking a tuning fork inside my mind with his words... the resonance was that pronounced and that strong.
It sounds/feels so much like my own story. The writer in me was really only born in the death of Nathan. When I finally felt that I understood something more intrinsically than many people do. When I finally felt like I had something of merit to say.
*The title of this blog post is the title of the paper that my Shakespeare professor, Dr. Tita Baumlin, wrote on Venus and Adonis, which her husband told us this evening is the "seminal work" on that particular poem... and I believe him.
A phantasmagoric quote from class tonight.
It was the last thing that was said, and I think something that is going to stick with me for quite some time, though I may have already forgotten most of the rest of those three hours.
"The poet is born at the death of Adonis. Venus becomes no longer a goddess but a human because she can understand what human love is. Indeed she decrees that henceforth love goes along with pain and disappointment to mirror her own experience with Adonis. And the flower that comes from Adonis's blood spilled on the ground is Shakespeare, because he, too is being born as a poet, as a bard, in love and pain. Because a poet is someone who understands life and love and pain more deeply than most people bother to look." -James Baumlin lecturing on the theory of his wife, Tita Baumlin.
I'm not sure that this quote translates to how *deeply* I felt it, when Dr. Mr. Baumlin said it.
But as he was speaking it was almost as if he was striking a tuning fork inside my mind with his words... the resonance was that pronounced and that strong.
It sounds/feels so much like my own story. The writer in me was really only born in the death of Nathan. When I finally felt that I understood something more intrinsically than many people do. When I finally felt like I had something of merit to say.
*The title of this blog post is the title of the paper that my Shakespeare professor, Dr. Tita Baumlin, wrote on Venus and Adonis, which her husband told us this evening is the "seminal work" on that particular poem... and I believe him.
Walking in Beauty
Yesterday's word was destitute... Here's the problem with that. Someone guessed it... well, maybe 2 someones... but the first guesser came up as anonymous.... so, I have no clue and no means of verifying who you are. So if you want to remain anonymous I think you should e-mail me and let me know who you are... if not-- comment and tell me! This is especially confusing because the people who most often guess did guess- under their own names.... *confused*
Also I'm pondering a retro-active rule change... in that if someone guesses they get 1 point... and if they get it right they get 2 points and if they are the first to get it right they get 3... what do you guys think? I'll be blown out of the point-water pretty fast with this method, but it will be less discouraging for those who guess and guess and keep getting it wrong. *coughRhondacough*
Anyway, moving on.
I took a nap this evening, and I dreamt of several things... One of them strangely enough was my favorite poem. Then I searched my blog and realized I've blogged about a lot of poems, but never my favorite one.
My favorite poem is She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron.
It has been since my senior year in high school, when we had to memorize and recite a poem for College Prep English. I choose this one, because I read it once and immediately fell in love with it. I still know it by heart.
Like all of my favorite things, I want this poem to be about me... I may live my life so as to try and be as much like this poem as I possibly can. One interesting aspect, which might not be true but makes me like the poem all the more, is that it's said Byron wrote it about a cousin who was in mourning.
I've been in mourning before! See, this poem is totally about me. *nods decisively*
I can't decide if it's nature or nuture that makes girls/women want to be thought beautiful, but it seems to come from somewhere deep deep inside. And I think it's rather interesting that yes, I want to *be* beautiful, but the thing that is more important to me is that I'm *thought to be* beautiful. I've mentioned several times that Nathan telling me I'm beautiful is one of the things I miss the most... and it's also one of the things that has most strongly affected my life/self-esteem.
Men/ boys don't seem to have this same desire/need/longing. Yes, they want to be thought attractive... but they also seem to be a lot more confident that they just are attractive... or that it doesn't matter. Or am I wrong? Do men want to be handsome just as much as women?
See, even writing that, the thought seems ridiculous.
How silly is it that I want to be thought highly of in a context that I have so little control over? I mean I can control how much makeup I wear, but studies show that men actually normally prefer women with less makeup/makeup that looks natural. I can control the color and style of my hair (and boy, howdy, do I!) I can control what I wear and choose the best styles for my body type, and I can control my weight, to some extent. But I've been thinking lately that people don't normally look at your body that closely I mean, I think of all the people I see in a day and I look at their faces and generally have an idea of their body, but I don't pay that much attention.... though that might just be because I'm a girl? Not sure on that one.
Anyway, (barring expensive and painful surgery) I can't control the shape of my face, or it's symmetry, or the color of my eyes, or the height of my cheekbones. I can't control the upturn of my nose or the size of my lips or any of their placement.
And yet it matters to me that other people find them pleasing. But then I wonder... is it just that? Is that really all I want? To be thought physically attractive?
And it's not... not really. It's *part* of it, but what I want is so hard to pin down and so hard to find/ know. Because what I want is what Lord Byron is saying in that poem. I want a beauty that is internal but somehow expresses itself in my face and body. I want to be such a beautiful person that somehow people can see that just by looking at me.
I want to be so beautiful that men are driven to write poetry about me. I want to be so beautiful that people like me without quite understanding why. I want to be so beautiful that people still like me after they get to know me. I want to be so beautiful that the more a person gets to know me the more they like me and the more beautiful they find me and on and on until the people who know me the best are also the ones who totally adore me and think I am the most beautiful creature to grace the Earth.
Why is it that I'd only ever want to be called a creature when beautiful is before it? I think it's because when you are called a creature it sounds as though you are less than human, but when you are called a beautiful creature it's as though you are transcending humanity. Your beauty takes you to a level higher than human.
Yes, it's all a very attainable and easy goal.
How does one become a mentee of both Audry Hepburn and Mother Theresa?
Mentee? That's a weird word. But it is a word- I just looked it up, to be sure. Apparently we just pulled that word from mentor... but that suggests all sorts of weird words using that same rule. Like the audience is really of bunch of actees... and if you ever hire a contractor you will be a contractee. Melissa sees not patients, but counselees, and people who are fooled by charlatans are impostees.
It's prediculous!
Plus, it looks like manatee... I don't wanna be no stinking manatee!
I'd like to rephrase my previous sentence:
How does one become amentee protege of both Audry Hepburn and Mother Theresa?
Yeah, I could have just gone back and edited the original sentence, but then you would have missed my little rant and I found it kinda funny, so I thought you might enjoy it.
Also I'm pondering a retro-active rule change... in that if someone guesses they get 1 point... and if they get it right they get 2 points and if they are the first to get it right they get 3... what do you guys think? I'll be blown out of the point-water pretty fast with this method, but it will be less discouraging for those who guess and guess and keep getting it wrong. *coughRhondacough*
Anyway, moving on.
I took a nap this evening, and I dreamt of several things... One of them strangely enough was my favorite poem. Then I searched my blog and realized I've blogged about a lot of poems, but never my favorite one.
My favorite poem is She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron.
It has been since my senior year in high school, when we had to memorize and recite a poem for College Prep English. I choose this one, because I read it once and immediately fell in love with it. I still know it by heart.
She Walks in Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
Like all of my favorite things, I want this poem to be about me... I may live my life so as to try and be as much like this poem as I possibly can. One interesting aspect, which might not be true but makes me like the poem all the more, is that it's said Byron wrote it about a cousin who was in mourning.
I've been in mourning before! See, this poem is totally about me. *nods decisively*
I can't decide if it's nature or nuture that makes girls/women want to be thought beautiful, but it seems to come from somewhere deep deep inside. And I think it's rather interesting that yes, I want to *be* beautiful, but the thing that is more important to me is that I'm *thought to be* beautiful. I've mentioned several times that Nathan telling me I'm beautiful is one of the things I miss the most... and it's also one of the things that has most strongly affected my life/self-esteem.
Men/ boys don't seem to have this same desire/need/longing. Yes, they want to be thought attractive... but they also seem to be a lot more confident that they just are attractive... or that it doesn't matter. Or am I wrong? Do men want to be handsome just as much as women?
See, even writing that, the thought seems ridiculous.
How silly is it that I want to be thought highly of in a context that I have so little control over? I mean I can control how much makeup I wear, but studies show that men actually normally prefer women with less makeup/makeup that looks natural. I can control the color and style of my hair (and boy, howdy, do I!) I can control what I wear and choose the best styles for my body type, and I can control my weight, to some extent. But I've been thinking lately that people don't normally look at your body that closely I mean, I think of all the people I see in a day and I look at their faces and generally have an idea of their body, but I don't pay that much attention.... though that might just be because I'm a girl? Not sure on that one.
Anyway, (barring expensive and painful surgery) I can't control the shape of my face, or it's symmetry, or the color of my eyes, or the height of my cheekbones. I can't control the upturn of my nose or the size of my lips or any of their placement.
And yet it matters to me that other people find them pleasing. But then I wonder... is it just that? Is that really all I want? To be thought physically attractive?
And it's not... not really. It's *part* of it, but what I want is so hard to pin down and so hard to find/ know. Because what I want is what Lord Byron is saying in that poem. I want a beauty that is internal but somehow expresses itself in my face and body. I want to be such a beautiful person that somehow people can see that just by looking at me.
I want to be so beautiful that men are driven to write poetry about me. I want to be so beautiful that people like me without quite understanding why. I want to be so beautiful that people still like me after they get to know me. I want to be so beautiful that the more a person gets to know me the more they like me and the more beautiful they find me and on and on until the people who know me the best are also the ones who totally adore me and think I am the most beautiful creature to grace the Earth.
Why is it that I'd only ever want to be called a creature when beautiful is before it? I think it's because when you are called a creature it sounds as though you are less than human, but when you are called a beautiful creature it's as though you are transcending humanity. Your beauty takes you to a level higher than human.
Yes, it's all a very attainable and easy goal.
How does one become a mentee of both Audry Hepburn and Mother Theresa?
Mentee? That's a weird word. But it is a word- I just looked it up, to be sure. Apparently we just pulled that word from mentor... but that suggests all sorts of weird words using that same rule. Like the audience is really of bunch of actees... and if you ever hire a contractor you will be a contractee. Melissa sees not patients, but counselees, and people who are fooled by charlatans are impostees.
It's prediculous!
Plus, it looks like manatee... I don't wanna be no stinking manatee!
I'd like to rephrase my previous sentence:
How does one become a
Yeah, I could have just gone back and edited the original sentence, but then you would have missed my little rant and I found it kinda funny, so I thought you might enjoy it.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
What's worse?
Yesterday's word was: attache(s)
"Imagination is always so much worse than the truth."
A girl said this today in one of my classes and I found myself filled with rage.
And I'm not normally a rage-filled kind of girl.
In fact, I'm normally a rage-destitute kind of girl.
But it's just such crap.
She was using this quote to argue that something in a story should be more vague than it was (and let me be clear, it was already quite obtuse enough in my humble opinion.) And she was saying that it should be left up to the imagination, because the imagination can create things that are a thousand times worse. I'm pretty sure she even said, "Like when someone dies, you can deal with that- but the not-knowing is a lot harder." Though, to be fair, my blood was already boiling at that point and so I might be mis-quoting her terribly.
Here's the thing. Not-knowing is indeed awful. It really is. I've been there and all I wanted was to know what was happening so I could deal with it.
But imagination is only worse than the truth when... it's worse than the truth. In this case, the situation she was referring to in the story was child (sexual) abuse. Nope. Imagination isn't worse than that.
Imagination also isn't worse than a cancer diagnosis. Or widowhood. Because I *couldn't* imagine in a myriad of ways before it became truth, just what exactly it meant.
Imagination always being worse than the truth is something that people tell each other to make themselves feel better when they are afraid of something. But the worst case scenario does exist and if it actually happens, it will turn out to be so much worse than you thought it would be.
That's why I think choosing not to worry is the best plan.. and yes, that is a choice sometimes.
There are so many more things in this life that are a choice than seem to be at first blush.
On top of all that, I never think making something less relate-able and understandable is a good way to go.
I almost called her out on it. It was close. But I refrained, because sometimes you just get started talking and you say things that you know are stupid and then you have no way to backtrack and recant... And that's what I'm choosing to believe of this girl.
But, you can bet your bottom dollar that I felt righteous when the professor basically offered up the exact opposite advice... which was more in keeping with my own.
"Imagination is always so much worse than the truth."
A girl said this today in one of my classes and I found myself filled with rage.
And I'm not normally a rage-filled kind of girl.
In fact, I'm normally a rage-destitute kind of girl.
But it's just such crap.
She was using this quote to argue that something in a story should be more vague than it was (and let me be clear, it was already quite obtuse enough in my humble opinion.) And she was saying that it should be left up to the imagination, because the imagination can create things that are a thousand times worse. I'm pretty sure she even said, "Like when someone dies, you can deal with that- but the not-knowing is a lot harder." Though, to be fair, my blood was already boiling at that point and so I might be mis-quoting her terribly.
Here's the thing. Not-knowing is indeed awful. It really is. I've been there and all I wanted was to know what was happening so I could deal with it.
But imagination is only worse than the truth when... it's worse than the truth. In this case, the situation she was referring to in the story was child (sexual) abuse. Nope. Imagination isn't worse than that.
Imagination also isn't worse than a cancer diagnosis. Or widowhood. Because I *couldn't* imagine in a myriad of ways before it became truth, just what exactly it meant.
Imagination always being worse than the truth is something that people tell each other to make themselves feel better when they are afraid of something. But the worst case scenario does exist and if it actually happens, it will turn out to be so much worse than you thought it would be.
That's why I think choosing not to worry is the best plan.. and yes, that is a choice sometimes.
There are so many more things in this life that are a choice than seem to be at first blush.
On top of all that, I never think making something less relate-able and understandable is a good way to go.
I almost called her out on it. It was close. But I refrained, because sometimes you just get started talking and you say things that you know are stupid and then you have no way to backtrack and recant... And that's what I'm choosing to believe of this girl.
But, you can bet your bottom dollar that I felt righteous when the professor basically offered up the exact opposite advice... which was more in keeping with my own.
Bit of a lark, really.
Yesterday's word was: telepathy. Also, I have discovered a heretofore unknown talent of jinxing people if I name them in this little section. Pretty sure it only works on one person at time, so someone who might be thinking that I jinxed them earlier this week has probably been un-jinxed by my mention of Dawn, yesterday.
Seems like all my posts have been kinda serious of late...
I guess I've been having a serious time.
Well, I know I have. Lots of serious conversations and thoughts. And I've been really *feeling* how much I miss Nathan, because I'm missing Kara.
I hate how everything overlaps that way.
But I'm ready to have a fun time.
And I'm also in a weird mood because I've read short stories for hours. I just used the word "bulwark." No foolin'.
I've decided something very important.
I'm gonna fit right in with creative writers cause all anyone ever writes about is death.
I've read 7 short stories in the past 2 days and 6 of them had a dead person in them and the other was all about sex and possibly child abuse... not totally sure on that one.
Creative writers are weird. I think they are the sort who walk around with bags they call attaches and hats they call berets. And cigarette holders they call.... cigarette holders.
But I refuse to carry around a cigarette holder. That is just where I draw the line.
OH! My talk is up online! So, you know, if you want to hear that, you can go here and hear:
http://www.springfieldvineyard.org/sermons/gods-got-your-back
PS... my voice sounds weird.
Seems like all my posts have been kinda serious of late...
I guess I've been having a serious time.
Well, I know I have. Lots of serious conversations and thoughts. And I've been really *feeling* how much I miss Nathan, because I'm missing Kara.
I hate how everything overlaps that way.
But I'm ready to have a fun time.
And I'm also in a weird mood because I've read short stories for hours. I just used the word "bulwark." No foolin'.
I've decided something very important.
I'm gonna fit right in with creative writers cause all anyone ever writes about is death.
I've read 7 short stories in the past 2 days and 6 of them had a dead person in them and the other was all about sex and possibly child abuse... not totally sure on that one.
Creative writers are weird. I think they are the sort who walk around with bags they call attaches and hats they call berets. And cigarette holders they call.... cigarette holders.
But I refuse to carry around a cigarette holder. That is just where I draw the line.
OH! My talk is up online! So, you know, if you want to hear that, you can go here and hear:
http://www.springfieldvineyard.org/sermons/gods-got-your-back
PS... my voice sounds weird.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Thumbprints
Yesterday's word was: unangry.... Dawn, do you have telepathy? You are starting to freak me out with your spot-on-ness. (Rhonda, you should get some tips and tricks from Dawn. Homeslice knows what she's doing, apparently!)
I watched Hairspray tonight with my friend, Kara. I'd forgotten how much I love that movie. It's so funny and irreverent and hilarious.
I also made my most favoritest cookie- Thumbprint cookies.
I like thumbprint cookies with icing which apparently makes me something akin to a terrorist in a lot of people's minds.
I'm just a rebel like that.
Thumbprints take forever, what with the egg whites and the nuts and the special steps, but they are so tasty, with the not-so-sweet cookie and the sweet icing.
They also have a lot of childhood memories of baking with my mom and my sister wrapped up with them. I loved that I could put my thumbprint in this cookie and it would still be there when it came out of the oven, making a happy little bowl for yummy icing.
Tonight I made exactly 45 cookies without knowing it... and felt like a secret superhero....though there are only 40 now... but remember I had a friend over!
I have things I should have done this weekend for class... but mainly I just went school supply shopping... Whoops. S'ok though... it's all stuff I can get done tomorrow, no problem.
One time I yelled at my mom for asking me if my homework was done. As I recall I said, "Mom, I'm the valedictorian! I always get my homework done. Have you ever known me to not get it done? Stop worrying and trust me."
So you should trust me, lest you want me to yell at you like a grumpy self-righteous teenager.
It's true. No stereotypical teenage rebellion for me. *But* I knew I wasn't rebelling and I wasn't gonna put up with innocent questions that could somehow imply that I might be rebelling. No siree, Bob.
*L* I think I've always had a very firm opinion (grounded or not) that I'm special, and felt that should be acknowledged in people's treatment of me.
...
I'd like to take this moment to thank my friends and family for putting up with me. You are all saints in my book.
I watched Hairspray tonight with my friend, Kara. I'd forgotten how much I love that movie. It's so funny and irreverent and hilarious.
I also made my most favoritest cookie- Thumbprint cookies.
I like thumbprint cookies with icing which apparently makes me something akin to a terrorist in a lot of people's minds.
I'm just a rebel like that.
Thumbprints take forever, what with the egg whites and the nuts and the special steps, but they are so tasty, with the not-so-sweet cookie and the sweet icing.
They also have a lot of childhood memories of baking with my mom and my sister wrapped up with them. I loved that I could put my thumbprint in this cookie and it would still be there when it came out of the oven, making a happy little bowl for yummy icing.
Tonight I made exactly 45 cookies without knowing it... and felt like a secret superhero....though there are only 40 now... but remember I had a friend over!
I have things I should have done this weekend for class... but mainly I just went school supply shopping... Whoops. S'ok though... it's all stuff I can get done tomorrow, no problem.
One time I yelled at my mom for asking me if my homework was done. As I recall I said, "Mom, I'm the valedictorian! I always get my homework done. Have you ever known me to not get it done? Stop worrying and trust me."
So you should trust me, lest you want me to yell at you like a grumpy self-righteous teenager.
It's true. No stereotypical teenage rebellion for me. *But* I knew I wasn't rebelling and I wasn't gonna put up with innocent questions that could somehow imply that I might be rebelling. No siree, Bob.
*L* I think I've always had a very firm opinion (grounded or not) that I'm special, and felt that should be acknowledged in people's treatment of me.
...
I'd like to take this moment to thank my friends and family for putting up with me. You are all saints in my book.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Hurting
Yesterday's word was narwhal. Yep, that one was hard to just casually drop in... thus why that bacon video seemed to come from nowhere. Maybe a little suspicious, but you shouldn't be angry with me. And if you are, you should get unangry. Narwhals are not easy things to hide.
So... the thing that's important about today is my Pappy.
I've not been talking about it much on my blog... in part because if I don't mention it then it feels like somehow it's not happening. But his health isn't so great. In fact it's been pretty lousy.
He's been in and out of the hospital 2 or 3 times in the past month and he's been dealing with chronic and intense back pain.
And today he fell at home and now is back in the hospital. He's been dealing with compression fractures in his spine. Those are what Nathan had. I could tell it was the same sort of issue when I was home last week and saw him- and it just about ripped out my heart. They moved the same way. They sat the same way. They held their breath and attempted to control the pain through measured inhalations and exhalations exactly the same way.
I know too much.
I just know too much. I know too intimately how much he's hurting. I know how little doctors can really do about it, and I know how little the pain meds can touch it. (While they screw up every other system in your body.)
And that's part of the problem, because through all of this I'm dealing with Nathan stuff *and* Pappy stuff... and so it all hits extra close to home and I feel even more keenly my inability to do anything. And I'm dealing with what basically amounts to emotional flashbacks.
I hate the people I love being in pain. I'd much rather it be me.
So... the thing that's important about today is my Pappy.
I've not been talking about it much on my blog... in part because if I don't mention it then it feels like somehow it's not happening. But his health isn't so great. In fact it's been pretty lousy.
He's been in and out of the hospital 2 or 3 times in the past month and he's been dealing with chronic and intense back pain.
And today he fell at home and now is back in the hospital. He's been dealing with compression fractures in his spine. Those are what Nathan had. I could tell it was the same sort of issue when I was home last week and saw him- and it just about ripped out my heart. They moved the same way. They sat the same way. They held their breath and attempted to control the pain through measured inhalations and exhalations exactly the same way.
I know too much.
I just know too much. I know too intimately how much he's hurting. I know how little doctors can really do about it, and I know how little the pain meds can touch it. (While they screw up every other system in your body.)
And that's part of the problem, because through all of this I'm dealing with Nathan stuff *and* Pappy stuff... and so it all hits extra close to home and I feel even more keenly my inability to do anything. And I'm dealing with what basically amounts to emotional flashbacks.
I hate the people I love being in pain. I'd much rather it be me.
 |
| Fun Fact: My grandmother is 78 years old and that is her natural hair color... just a hint of grey around her temples. |
Saturday, August 25, 2012
16 of 30
Yesterday's word was: cyclical. Yessss! A legitimate point for me!
My printer is working again. I've learned my lesson and will now run to Wal-mart in the middle of the night if I run out of ink, rather than telling it to keep printing and risk burning out another printer-head. That was annoying.
I'm thinking there is some sort of story or blog or something that I want to write about identity. Finding an identity or making an identity or discovering one's identity... I'm not sure what. It's percolating.
In the meantime, I refer myself to the list.
16. What are your 5 greatest accomplishments?
Uhhhh Hard!
1) I'm gonna have to say surviving: And that sounds a bit dumb, I know... but... if you knew me before Nathan's death... If you'd ever been inside my head when I started thinking about death and almost had a panic attack... There was a reason why Nathan's greatest concern was that I would be ok. Because before he got sick, I wouldn't have said it was possible for me to be ok without him. (Btw, I'm not sure that it's fair to say that this is my accomplishment, as much as just a straight out a gift from God.)
2) Academic Stuff: I'm putting them all in a big lump, because once again... I'm not sure it's fair to say this is an accomplishment as much as a gift from God. So here's proof of my smarts: 31 ACT, Valedictorian, Summa Cum Laude, 165 GRE Verbal. To sum up: I is supa clever.
3) Getting published: I know that the Moon City Review isn't The New Yorker or anything, but taking the chance and putting my work out there was hard, and nerve-wracking and scary and intimidating. And I know people who submitted and weren't accepted, so I'm really proud. I need to keep submitting work, and not just end it here, but getting accepted (and therefore acknowledged by peers and professors) was a really big deal to me.
4) No longer biting my nails: I know, the farther down I go the more I'm stretching, it seems, but this is really something I consider to be a big accomplishment. There are a lot of things that come really naturally to me and I don't have to work very hard to get. (Academics is one of those things.) But every time I trim my nails with clippers, it's a victory. I was a chronic nail biter, and it's the only thing Nathan ever told me bothered him. I'm really sorry that he didn't get to see it, but it's my own little personal memorial to him. And it was hard to do, and every now and again I still have to break out an emery board in an awkward place so that I won't chew on my nail to even it out. I kinda hate that my nail obsession makes me look so shallow, but I guess someone will have to get to know me to realize that it's a lot deeper than it appears.
5) My friends: I think each and every friend that I have is a great accomplishment. There is that saying, "you have to be a good friend to get good friends"... And I do think I'm a pretty good friend- but I think my friends are greater than I am... (and that includes my family members who are also my friends... which are most of you.) Friendships are work, but I'm so blessed by my friends that I'm happy to put in the friendship-work to maintain my relationships with these people. In fact, it's "work" that I enjoy. How could I not? Have you met my friends? They are all amazing in so many different ways.
And in conclusion, please enjoy this song about bacon- from the same people who wrote that narwhal song.
Boom! Pig!
My printer is working again. I've learned my lesson and will now run to Wal-mart in the middle of the night if I run out of ink, rather than telling it to keep printing and risk burning out another printer-head. That was annoying.
I'm thinking there is some sort of story or blog or something that I want to write about identity. Finding an identity or making an identity or discovering one's identity... I'm not sure what. It's percolating.
In the meantime, I refer myself to the list.
16. What are your 5 greatest accomplishments?
Uhhhh Hard!
1) I'm gonna have to say surviving: And that sounds a bit dumb, I know... but... if you knew me before Nathan's death... If you'd ever been inside my head when I started thinking about death and almost had a panic attack... There was a reason why Nathan's greatest concern was that I would be ok. Because before he got sick, I wouldn't have said it was possible for me to be ok without him. (Btw, I'm not sure that it's fair to say that this is my accomplishment, as much as just a straight out a gift from God.)
2) Academic Stuff: I'm putting them all in a big lump, because once again... I'm not sure it's fair to say this is an accomplishment as much as a gift from God. So here's proof of my smarts: 31 ACT, Valedictorian, Summa Cum Laude, 165 GRE Verbal. To sum up: I is supa clever.
3) Getting published: I know that the Moon City Review isn't The New Yorker or anything, but taking the chance and putting my work out there was hard, and nerve-wracking and scary and intimidating. And I know people who submitted and weren't accepted, so I'm really proud. I need to keep submitting work, and not just end it here, but getting accepted (and therefore acknowledged by peers and professors) was a really big deal to me.
4) No longer biting my nails: I know, the farther down I go the more I'm stretching, it seems, but this is really something I consider to be a big accomplishment. There are a lot of things that come really naturally to me and I don't have to work very hard to get. (Academics is one of those things.) But every time I trim my nails with clippers, it's a victory. I was a chronic nail biter, and it's the only thing Nathan ever told me bothered him. I'm really sorry that he didn't get to see it, but it's my own little personal memorial to him. And it was hard to do, and every now and again I still have to break out an emery board in an awkward place so that I won't chew on my nail to even it out. I kinda hate that my nail obsession makes me look so shallow, but I guess someone will have to get to know me to realize that it's a lot deeper than it appears.
5) My friends: I think each and every friend that I have is a great accomplishment. There is that saying, "you have to be a good friend to get good friends"... And I do think I'm a pretty good friend- but I think my friends are greater than I am... (and that includes my family members who are also my friends... which are most of you.) Friendships are work, but I'm so blessed by my friends that I'm happy to put in the friendship-work to maintain my relationships with these people. In fact, it's "work" that I enjoy. How could I not? Have you met my friends? They are all amazing in so many different ways.
And in conclusion, please enjoy this song about bacon- from the same people who wrote that narwhal song.
Boom! Pig!
Friday, August 24, 2012
Metamorphasis
Yesterday was usurper-- Paula is on a roll!
Weird moment today when I was reminded of a person I used to be and how much I've changed.
I remember making a big deal to Kara just after Nathan died, about how I hadn't really changed. It was sparked because I felt like everyone was treating me strangely. And to be fair I think they were treating me with kid gloves when what I really wanted was normalcy.
But man I have changed from who I used to be. Don't get me wrong- I'm still *Renée.* I'm still who I am, deep down. But the expression of that personhood has changed a great deal. A great deal.
And it's really weird when you run into someone from your past and you find yourself reverting into old patterns like a strange sort of muscle memory.
But I'm like Pangea... I've drifted so far from where I used to be that I've totally changed shape... so it felt really strange and awful. I don't think personalities are cyclical... they really do metamorphosize over time.. and I think mine has more than most, with everything I've been through.... Though according to my Myers Briggs I might be wrong
I just took 4 tests and I'm semi-reliably an ESFJ... which is what I think I was when I got married... but the expression of that ESFJ is very different than it used to be. (Notedly when the tests are compared I came out as borderline in every single category on at least one of them.) And the two categories in which I was the most certain of what I am (E and F) are also the ones where I got the opposite score. (On different tests, so it wasn't just one janky one.)
Maybe I was right about the whole metamorphosis thing, I was just wrong about how quickly personalities change?
Or maybe personality tests aren't really that reliable.
Oh and I almost forgot to mention-- you know who is super Reliable? Reliable Toyota... I love them. My car was beeping at me and they found a hairline fracture in the oil filter today and fixed it for me for free and they always open my car door for me, and never seem to take more than an hour no matter what they are doing.
I heart my Prius, and I heart that dealership.
Weird moment today when I was reminded of a person I used to be and how much I've changed.
I remember making a big deal to Kara just after Nathan died, about how I hadn't really changed. It was sparked because I felt like everyone was treating me strangely. And to be fair I think they were treating me with kid gloves when what I really wanted was normalcy.
But man I have changed from who I used to be. Don't get me wrong- I'm still *Renée.* I'm still who I am, deep down. But the expression of that personhood has changed a great deal. A great deal.
And it's really weird when you run into someone from your past and you find yourself reverting into old patterns like a strange sort of muscle memory.
But I'm like Pangea... I've drifted so far from where I used to be that I've totally changed shape... so it felt really strange and awful. I don't think personalities are cyclical... they really do metamorphosize over time.. and I think mine has more than most, with everything I've been through.... Though according to my Myers Briggs I might be wrong
I just took 4 tests and I'm semi-reliably an ESFJ... which is what I think I was when I got married... but the expression of that ESFJ is very different than it used to be. (Notedly when the tests are compared I came out as borderline in every single category on at least one of them.) And the two categories in which I was the most certain of what I am (E and F) are also the ones where I got the opposite score. (On different tests, so it wasn't just one janky one.)
Maybe I was right about the whole metamorphosis thing, I was just wrong about how quickly personalities change?
Or maybe personality tests aren't really that reliable.
Oh and I almost forgot to mention-- you know who is super Reliable? Reliable Toyota... I love them. My car was beeping at me and they found a hairline fracture in the oil filter today and fixed it for me for free and they always open my car door for me, and never seem to take more than an hour no matter what they are doing.
I heart my Prius, and I heart that dealership.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Free to Roam
Word of the day was: Trolley
I was home last weekend.
You know this, because there was the whole saga of my suitcase and all the pictures.
And I started thinking as I was tromping about on a beautiful Sunday morning, snapping photos.
(And this might be a load of hooey that I just think is deep but is actually complete crap.)
...Does anyone else worry that the things that seem very deep to them are actually not deep at all?
Anyway.. I was thinking that there is something of my soul in that place.. or maybe it's the opposite.
Gosh, it sounds cheesy to write out like that.
But it's my *home* and somehow it's been imprinted on me.
And it's like no matter how far away I go there is a piece of that quiet, that simple beauty that I carry around with me.
And an appreciation of beauty that you see everyday, but somehow don't become immune to, that I learned there.
In some ways it's a relationship that I have with a place... that quiet comfortable appreciation. Somehow you get to know a place even better and get to love a place even more, because of the time spent with it. Because of your history with it. Because it's so dependable. And when I'm there I can't feel out of place. I can't be a usurper because it's as though it was all created just for me. Just so I could be comfortable. Just so I could feel safe. Just so I could feel loved.
I think there is some basis of my understanding of God tied up in it all, too. Not in like some crazy Native American land-spirit way... but somehow it feels a lot easier and simpler to connect to God in a quiet country morning than anywhere else.
I find a peace and soft strength and a sense of God's incredible power and kindness and I pull it from there like a string, always tied to it but free to roam.
I think I'm trying too hard to be poetic. I think I'm trying too hard to convey what I want to say, because what I want to say sounds so trite... but...
I was reminded just how much of my home I take with me, everywhere I go
I was home last weekend.
You know this, because there was the whole saga of my suitcase and all the pictures.
And I started thinking as I was tromping about on a beautiful Sunday morning, snapping photos.
(And this might be a load of hooey that I just think is deep but is actually complete crap.)
...Does anyone else worry that the things that seem very deep to them are actually not deep at all?
Anyway.. I was thinking that there is something of my soul in that place.. or maybe it's the opposite.
Gosh, it sounds cheesy to write out like that.
But it's my *home* and somehow it's been imprinted on me.
And it's like no matter how far away I go there is a piece of that quiet, that simple beauty that I carry around with me.
And an appreciation of beauty that you see everyday, but somehow don't become immune to, that I learned there.
In some ways it's a relationship that I have with a place... that quiet comfortable appreciation. Somehow you get to know a place even better and get to love a place even more, because of the time spent with it. Because of your history with it. Because it's so dependable. And when I'm there I can't feel out of place. I can't be a usurper because it's as though it was all created just for me. Just so I could be comfortable. Just so I could feel safe. Just so I could feel loved.
I think there is some basis of my understanding of God tied up in it all, too. Not in like some crazy Native American land-spirit way... but somehow it feels a lot easier and simpler to connect to God in a quiet country morning than anywhere else.
I find a peace and soft strength and a sense of God's incredible power and kindness and I pull it from there like a string, always tied to it but free to roam.
I think I'm trying too hard to be poetic. I think I'm trying too hard to convey what I want to say, because what I want to say sounds so trite... but...
I was reminded just how much of my home I take with me, everywhere I go
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
15 of 30
Yesterday's word was parvenu (The day before was 1776. Sorry, I forgot to mention it! Kara apologizes for the fact that it was technically a number in the comment section of yesterday's blog.)
First day of classes- I had two. (On Thursday I will have three.) I very much liked them. I'm excited to really get into the heart of them.
Apparently Creative Writing has a lot of guys? Girls were outnumbered three to one in both of my classes. It was weird, because as a theater ed major (and often times even with the regular theatre majors) the girls won the gender war.
I need to get a planner (Yes, Kara! A planner!)
I read an interesting thing today that said people are more honest if they have eyes around them... like even just clip-art eyes on posters. Isn't that weird!?
I have nothing interesting to say...
So I guess I'm going to do number 15 on the list?
15. If you were an animal, what would you be and why?
Pretty sure the answer to this one is a bird. I don't know what kind of a bird, but one that could fly. To be able to fly under my own power? I'm not sure that any other animal comes close to being that awesome. Plus, I'd never have to ride the trolley again.
Ok, so I've never ridden a trolley in the first place and I actually kinda want to, just so I can sing "The Trolley Song" from Meet Me in St. Louis.
But that doesn't take away from the fact that I'd like to be a bird if I got a chance.
Now if you are asking what kind of an animal I actually am.... like personality-wise... well, I'm not totally sure.
Part of me is very dog like... but I've a large amount of cat in me as well.
I'm a little bit elephant and a little bit mouse.
Part sloth, part monkey...
I think I might be a Wuzzle.
First day of classes- I had two. (On Thursday I will have three.) I very much liked them. I'm excited to really get into the heart of them.
Apparently Creative Writing has a lot of guys? Girls were outnumbered three to one in both of my classes. It was weird, because as a theater ed major (and often times even with the regular theatre majors) the girls won the gender war.
I need to get a planner (Yes, Kara! A planner!)
I read an interesting thing today that said people are more honest if they have eyes around them... like even just clip-art eyes on posters. Isn't that weird!?
I have nothing interesting to say...
So I guess I'm going to do number 15 on the list?
15. If you were an animal, what would you be and why?
Pretty sure the answer to this one is a bird. I don't know what kind of a bird, but one that could fly. To be able to fly under my own power? I'm not sure that any other animal comes close to being that awesome. Plus, I'd never have to ride the trolley again.
Ok, so I've never ridden a trolley in the first place and I actually kinda want to, just so I can sing "The Trolley Song" from Meet Me in St. Louis.
But that doesn't take away from the fact that I'd like to be a bird if I got a chance.
Now if you are asking what kind of an animal I actually am.... like personality-wise... well, I'm not totally sure.
Part of me is very dog like... but I've a large amount of cat in me as well.
I'm a little bit elephant and a little bit mouse.
Part sloth, part monkey...
I think I might be a Wuzzle.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Gushing
I love college.
I love my job.
I'm really excited to be going back to school.
I know that at some point in the middle of the semester when my life is happening all around me and I feel completely overwhelmed, I'm not going to be so thrilled, but right now I *love* it.
I said before that it feels like coming home, and it really does. I wasn't ready to leave college when I did. But it was time to graduate, so I matriculated and away I went.
But I'm back and it's just wonderful.
My supervisor is like constantly impressed with me.
And she would have guessed I was 22. She was visibly shocked when I said I just turned 29.
Of course, now that she knows my real age maybe she won't be so surprised at my competency.
But still.
I learned a new word today: Parvenu. It means "a person who has recently or suddenly acquired wealth, importance, position, or the like, but has not yet developed the conventionally appropriate manners, dress, surroundings, etc." (according to dictionary.com) The Beverly Hillbillies were parvenus.
I also learned that a group of alligators is called a congregation.
That's funny stuff.
In conclusion, Grad School = the shizzle.
Also, the restaurant is pretty fan-freakin-tastic, too.
Oh and my mom got me nail stickers for my birthday... and I did these last night.
Sah-weet!
I love my job.
I'm really excited to be going back to school.
I know that at some point in the middle of the semester when my life is happening all around me and I feel completely overwhelmed, I'm not going to be so thrilled, but right now I *love* it.
I said before that it feels like coming home, and it really does. I wasn't ready to leave college when I did. But it was time to graduate, so I matriculated and away I went.
But I'm back and it's just wonderful.
My supervisor is like constantly impressed with me.
And she would have guessed I was 22. She was visibly shocked when I said I just turned 29.
Of course, now that she knows my real age maybe she won't be so surprised at my competency.
But still.
I learned a new word today: Parvenu. It means "a person who has recently or suddenly acquired wealth, importance, position, or the like, but has not yet developed the conventionally appropriate manners, dress, surroundings, etc." (according to dictionary.com) The Beverly Hillbillies were parvenus.
I also learned that a group of alligators is called a congregation.
That's funny stuff.
In conclusion, Grad School = the shizzle.
Also, the restaurant is pretty fan-freakin-tastic, too.
Oh and my mom got me nail stickers for my birthday... and I did these last night.
Monday, August 20, 2012
A Suitcase Story
Yesterday's word was: Saboteur.
FFotD: 1776 was a leap year. So, if a person was born on Feb 29, 1776 then they only technically turned 59 this year.
I woke up this morning and got ready to go... got all my stuff out the front door but I couldn't carry my suitcase and the pictures I was taking and my laptop case and my purse all at once so I left my suitcase on the porch.
I got the other stuff in the car and it was such a splendid morning that I decided to take some pictures around the house...
PS I love the camera on my iphone.
Then I got in my car and left for church.
When my parents finally got back home from church they saw my suitcase exactly where I'd left it... on their porch.
Luckily, I had an aunt and uncle who were heading to Jeff City so when Mom and Dad found it they drove it back to Memphis, and then my aunt and uncle drove it to me in Macon where I had stopped because I could go no further, aware of my loss, as I was. I'm so glad they were going my way cause that would have added 3 hours on my trip otherwise.
Then my suitcase and I were reunited.
and it felt so good.
Oh and here are two pictures I took on my drive...
FFotD: 1776 was a leap year. So, if a person was born on Feb 29, 1776 then they only technically turned 59 this year.
I woke up this morning and got ready to go... got all my stuff out the front door but I couldn't carry my suitcase and the pictures I was taking and my laptop case and my purse all at once so I left my suitcase on the porch.
I got the other stuff in the car and it was such a splendid morning that I decided to take some pictures around the house...
PS I love the camera on my iphone.
Then I got in my car and left for church.
When my parents finally got back home from church they saw my suitcase exactly where I'd left it... on their porch.
Luckily, I had an aunt and uncle who were heading to Jeff City so when Mom and Dad found it they drove it back to Memphis, and then my aunt and uncle drove it to me in Macon where I had stopped because I could go no further, aware of my loss, as I was. I'm so glad they were going my way cause that would have added 3 hours on my trip otherwise.
Then my suitcase and I were reunited.
and it felt so good.
Oh and here are two pictures I took on my drive...
 |
| This was pre-suitcase discovery |
 |
| This was post suitcase recovery. Look at those clouds and sunbeams! |
Sunday, August 19, 2012
14 of 30
Yesterday's word was parallel. Fun fact: I just spelled parallel correctly on the first try for the first time possibly ever.
The return of the list!
I could just cheat and send you to my Strengthsfinder blog post.
I won't, I'll pick out 5 different strengths. But I don't think you should discount that post if you want a more objective viewpoint.
So five strengths....
1) I think I have a pretty good sense of style/design. I've not been trained in it beyond a great high school art teacher and a few classes in college, but I really enjoy it and I like my own taste, at least.
2) I'm good at knowing what people are feeling and why they are acting certain ways. I can usually instinctively put together the varying factors in their lives and understand what the underlying emotions are- even when it's "thinkers" who think they don't actually have feelings, or bury them down super deep.
3) I'm generally happy. I think that's a strength, even though it might not be the first thing that occurs to people when pondering strength.
4) I'm low-key and laid back and I think that's a strength, too. Not very much really ruffles my feathers. I don't think that causing a fuss is worth it. I think things will work out and getting stressed out usually just makes it all worse. Sometimes you can't help it, but I think I might have more control over my emotions than most feelers do.
5) I'm very accepting of who people are. I don't try to change them or manipulate them, and I don't mind the inconsistencies in people's thoughts or actions (at least normally.) People's personal paradoxes don't bother me. Doesn't mean I agree with everything, but I can accept their opinions as having nothing to do with me or my right to my own opinion. I don't think we have to agree to get along.
OK, lest I become my own sleep schedule saboteur, I'm going to bed now. Tomorrow I'm headed back to Springtown after church, and I like to be well rested for long drives... you know, not to mention the whole "starting grad school classes" this week.
I've had 2 beautiful alliterations in the last 2 paragraphs. I heart alliteration. :)
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Flying Colors, Indeed.
Yesterday's word was: disgruntled. Dawn-- I'm starting to be impressed. No pressure. :)
So you know what metaphor I really like? "flying colors" I mean first off, it means someone did something great... but it creates such great mental images, too.
I mean, lets think about it for a while... Sure, at first notion you might just think of something boring like some flags flying.
But if you ponder it long enough, you start to realize it could be some parallel bars of color zooming through the air....
Or better yet parallel bars of colors with wings!
Or with Capes!
Maybe all the colors are actually super heroes!!
Flying Colors, indeed.
Yep, I did just make an image for that lame pun.
So you know what metaphor I really like? "flying colors" I mean first off, it means someone did something great... but it creates such great mental images, too.
I mean, lets think about it for a while... Sure, at first notion you might just think of something boring like some flags flying.
But if you ponder it long enough, you start to realize it could be some parallel bars of color zooming through the air....
 |
| Like a deadly attack rainbow. |
 |
| A deadly attack rainbow with razor sharp wings! |
 |
| And the CareBears thought *they* had a Rescue Rainbow. |
 |
| ERMAHGERD!!! |
 |
| Reading Rainbow!!! |
Yep, I did just make an image for that lame pun.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Waiting Room
Yesterday's word was suspenders-- I told you the word wouldn't be in the title and two of you still guessed dancing. You crazy kids. I was just alluding to the song in Wicked which was alluding to the scarecrow comment...
So I'm not sure what it is about tonight.. If it's the mercurial weather or being alone or missing Kara or the phase of the moon but I'm feeling disgruntled. Or maybe disgruntled isn't even the right word... I'm not sure what the word is though... melancholy... sad... homesick... lonely.
I feel like I'm in a waiting room... I feel like in some respects I haven't left a waiting room for about three years now and I want out.
I want my person.
I desperately want my person, whoever he is.
I'm so tired of going about my life with the waiting room constantly in the background. The reason I'm waiting has changed from what it was three years ago... but it just means I've moved floors. Waiting rooms pretty well all feel the same. Terrible lonely places where you are somehow completely alone no matter how many people are with you. Places where each entrance brings so much hope and fear and desperation.
Now I'm waiting for a different reason. Waiting to meet my someone, or waiting for him to get a clue, or just waiting and waiting and waiting to no ends whatsoever. (And don't think I'm not *terrified* to write that last one.)
And I'm so discouraged.... and I know that it just takes one entrance and it's possible that from whenever that entrance happens I won't really have to deal with this ever again.
But I don't know when that entrance will be... or if it ever will be.
And I'm strong normally and I'm brave normally, but I'm not feeling it tonight. I'm feeling all the things that everyone tells you that you can't be if you want to attract someone.
And that sucks because it's not fair. No one can be strong and brave and confident and "not worry about it" all the time. And I think I normally do a pretty good job of it, but I'm still human. I tamp them down as well as I can, but my emotions are still there, somewhere.
And I want someone to love that I'm so strong and brave normally... but I want someone who can love me when I'm not strong and brave, cause that's when I really need someone to be with me.
And I don't get it.
I really don't.
By this time you probably know me pretty well, don't you? Hopefully you do and you won't hate me for what's about to happen. Cause I'm about to be honest... perhaps offensively honest.
This might be a terrible thing to say, and it's not even a little bit modest but I think I'm a pretty good catch. I mean, obviously Nathan thought so, but... I believe in myself. I'm sweet and I'm kind and I care about people. I'm smart and I'm funny (sometimes) and I have a decent sense of humor for other people's jokes. I like being affectionate with my significant other but I know how to be restrained, too. I can do planned and I can do spontaneous. I have good morals, and a good work ethic, and I can bake quite well. Kara assures me that my hair these days is fantastic and while I could stand to lose more weight, I'm working on it and I don't think I'm unfortunate looking. I'm not high-maintenance, but I'm willig to take on high-maintenance friends. I'm a good wife and I think I'll be a good mom, if maybe slightly overprotective. I mean I might have a bit of an ego on me that I think all these things about myself, and I can obviously work a bit on my patience, and I know that I'm not the right girl for just any guy... but I don't think I'm universally off-putting, either. I don't think there is anything about me that makes me unworthy of getting someone's attention and I think there is a lot about me that makes me desirable... I'd even go so far as to say there is a lot about me that makes me perfect for someone... but there isn't someone, and I don't get it.
And it scares me so much to think that this is all there will ever be.
Longing to have someone to take care of... and longing for someone who wants to make those tiny subtle gestures that let you know that he cares.
I've never needed or expected a room full of a thousand flowers to know that I'm loved... just a text... or an e-mail... or a knock... just someone saying that he loves me more than he loves anyone else. Saying that I'm what he wants. Someone whose hand I can hold.
The exit from the interminable waiting room.
Forgive my ridiculous selfish-ness and moping, please. I just needed to get it out.
So I'm not sure what it is about tonight.. If it's the mercurial weather or being alone or missing Kara or the phase of the moon but I'm feeling disgruntled. Or maybe disgruntled isn't even the right word... I'm not sure what the word is though... melancholy... sad... homesick... lonely.
I feel like I'm in a waiting room... I feel like in some respects I haven't left a waiting room for about three years now and I want out.
I want my person.
I desperately want my person, whoever he is.
I'm so tired of going about my life with the waiting room constantly in the background. The reason I'm waiting has changed from what it was three years ago... but it just means I've moved floors. Waiting rooms pretty well all feel the same. Terrible lonely places where you are somehow completely alone no matter how many people are with you. Places where each entrance brings so much hope and fear and desperation.
Now I'm waiting for a different reason. Waiting to meet my someone, or waiting for him to get a clue, or just waiting and waiting and waiting to no ends whatsoever. (And don't think I'm not *terrified* to write that last one.)
And I'm so discouraged.... and I know that it just takes one entrance and it's possible that from whenever that entrance happens I won't really have to deal with this ever again.
But I don't know when that entrance will be... or if it ever will be.
And I'm strong normally and I'm brave normally, but I'm not feeling it tonight. I'm feeling all the things that everyone tells you that you can't be if you want to attract someone.
And that sucks because it's not fair. No one can be strong and brave and confident and "not worry about it" all the time. And I think I normally do a pretty good job of it, but I'm still human. I tamp them down as well as I can, but my emotions are still there, somewhere.
And I want someone to love that I'm so strong and brave normally... but I want someone who can love me when I'm not strong and brave, cause that's when I really need someone to be with me.
And I don't get it.
I really don't.
By this time you probably know me pretty well, don't you? Hopefully you do and you won't hate me for what's about to happen. Cause I'm about to be honest... perhaps offensively honest.
This might be a terrible thing to say, and it's not even a little bit modest but I think I'm a pretty good catch. I mean, obviously Nathan thought so, but... I believe in myself. I'm sweet and I'm kind and I care about people. I'm smart and I'm funny (sometimes) and I have a decent sense of humor for other people's jokes. I like being affectionate with my significant other but I know how to be restrained, too. I can do planned and I can do spontaneous. I have good morals, and a good work ethic, and I can bake quite well. Kara assures me that my hair these days is fantastic and while I could stand to lose more weight, I'm working on it and I don't think I'm unfortunate looking. I'm not high-maintenance, but I'm willig to take on high-maintenance friends. I'm a good wife and I think I'll be a good mom, if maybe slightly overprotective. I mean I might have a bit of an ego on me that I think all these things about myself, and I can obviously work a bit on my patience, and I know that I'm not the right girl for just any guy... but I don't think I'm universally off-putting, either. I don't think there is anything about me that makes me unworthy of getting someone's attention and I think there is a lot about me that makes me desirable... I'd even go so far as to say there is a lot about me that makes me perfect for someone... but there isn't someone, and I don't get it.
And it scares me so much to think that this is all there will ever be.
Longing to have someone to take care of... and longing for someone who wants to make those tiny subtle gestures that let you know that he cares.
I've never needed or expected a room full of a thousand flowers to know that I'm loved... just a text... or an e-mail... or a knock... just someone saying that he loves me more than he loves anyone else. Saying that I'm what he wants. Someone whose hand I can hold.
The exit from the interminable waiting room.
Forgive my ridiculous selfish-ness and moping, please. I just needed to get it out.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Dancing Through Life
Monday's word was: radiator (Good job, Dawn!)
Tuesday's word was: stir fry (Good job, me!)
Yeah, I know. Tuesday was a bit of a cheat. But I'll never be able to do it again, and I think that might well be the only point I ever get. Also, I promise that it won't be in this one, but the secret word could always be in the title, so be aware.
Also I agreed to let Kara have points in some way. It won't effect you, but if three or more people guess the word then she gets the points for as many people guess it correctly. But we agreed she can't make it impossible to camouflage.
I really like my grad assistant-ship. I mean maybe in a few weeks I'll be more settled in and find the things that I hate. But for right now? It's great.
I will be doing a lot of writing step-by-step tutorials, which I think I'll be fairly decent at once I get the hang of it. And I will also help out in training sessions with different faculty/staff and students to show them how to get the University programs to do what they want.
I've done a lot of that thus far, and I think it's great. It's mainly been slightly older professors who have come in and they are so cute cause they look at me like I just quoted pi to the 100th digit when I show them how to do something-- or find a tutorial that teaches us both how to do something.
And my supervisor told someone, "It's only her second day, but I'm already discovering that Renee can kinda read minds."
All of which makes me feel both super smart and super helpful. *snaps imaginary suspenders and straightens imaginary bow-tie- like the Doctor.* Bow-ties are cool!
Plus, I think the job will be a great way to network, because every professor who comes through needs help and we are happy to help them, and they then leave, thinking we are the bumble bee's knees because we teach them how to use those barmy programs.
It's a bit like teaching in high school, but there is zero apathy. It's just fabulous.
Today I've been reminded that I'm smart... Kara actually brought it up in a completely unrelated comment today. As she put it, "I mean, you are really smart. It's not the first thing that I think of when I think of you. I think of how great a friend you are or how great your hair is these days, or what great people skills you have, but you are really smart, too, and I normally just take that for granted."
It's nice to remember. I have such brilliant friends that I forget sometimes that I'm no Scarecrow, myself.
Tuesday's word was: stir fry (Good job, me!)
Yeah, I know. Tuesday was a bit of a cheat. But I'll never be able to do it again, and I think that might well be the only point I ever get. Also, I promise that it won't be in this one, but the secret word could always be in the title, so be aware.
Also I agreed to let Kara have points in some way. It won't effect you, but if three or more people guess the word then she gets the points for as many people guess it correctly. But we agreed she can't make it impossible to camouflage.
I really like my grad assistant-ship. I mean maybe in a few weeks I'll be more settled in and find the things that I hate. But for right now? It's great.
I will be doing a lot of writing step-by-step tutorials, which I think I'll be fairly decent at once I get the hang of it. And I will also help out in training sessions with different faculty/staff and students to show them how to get the University programs to do what they want.
I've done a lot of that thus far, and I think it's great. It's mainly been slightly older professors who have come in and they are so cute cause they look at me like I just quoted pi to the 100th digit when I show them how to do something-- or find a tutorial that teaches us both how to do something.
And my supervisor told someone, "It's only her second day, but I'm already discovering that Renee can kinda read minds."
All of which makes me feel both super smart and super helpful. *snaps imaginary suspenders and straightens imaginary bow-tie- like the Doctor.* Bow-ties are cool!
Plus, I think the job will be a great way to network, because every professor who comes through needs help and we are happy to help them, and they then leave, thinking we are the bumble bee's knees because we teach them how to use those barmy programs.
It's a bit like teaching in high school, but there is zero apathy. It's just fabulous.
Today I've been reminded that I'm smart... Kara actually brought it up in a completely unrelated comment today. As she put it, "I mean, you are really smart. It's not the first thing that I think of when I think of you. I think of how great a friend you are or how great your hair is these days, or what great people skills you have, but you are really smart, too, and I normally just take that for granted."
It's nice to remember. I have such brilliant friends that I forget sometimes that I'm no Scarecrow, myself.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Contested and Exhausted
*beep beep beepity beep beep beep!*
We now forestall this blog post to bring you a contest of epic proportions!!!
Kara decided yesterday to give me a word of the day to work into my blog post. I did, and now I've decided to make it a challenge for you!
So hidden somewhere in this blog will be the secret word of the day. You can try and guess what the word is and the first person to 100 (either you or me) will win a fabulous prize (dreamed up by Kara.)
Points go thusly:
1 point for a correct guess
2 points to be the first person to guess correctly.
1 point for me for each day that no one guesses correctly in a row. (So the first day no one guesses correctly I get one point. The next day if no one guesses correctly I get two, the next three, ect-- but anytime someone does guess correctly my counter is restarted.)
Only one guess per blog post. Everyone keeps track of their own points and only comments made on the actual blog post count. (It's way too hard to verify points if facebook comments are also allowed and there is no way to track them.)
Every day I will announce what the secret word for the previous day's blog post is so that you can keep track of your points. Tomorrow I will make the announcement for both this blog and yesterday's blog. (You can make a guess both for today and for yesterday in the same comment if you want. Melissa, you can't vote in yesterday's since you already know, obviously.) No guesses count if they are posted after I've announced the word- duh.
The secret word could be just about anything. It could be tennis shoe. It could be handshake. It could be stir-fry or laundry or giggle or English or ponder or seestor, even though that's spelled completely nutso.
I will promise that it will never be an article (a grammatical article, not one in a newspaper or of clothing) and it will never be a pronoun... but other than that the world is your oyster, or clam, or a ladel..
We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post.
*beep beep beepity beep beep beep!*
I am trying very hard not to take a nap right now.
Being a grad assistant will be fun I think.
For one, I think I'll be good at helping people learn to use Blackboard. I get it pretty instinctively, and others apparently do not. And they *want* to learn it... it's useful to them, and gosh darn it if I don't like being helpful. Plus, it's a little like whoever I'm helping thinks that I'm magic.
Also, I'm not yet overwhelmed with classes and things that have to get done so it seems totally do-able.
And I feel productive.
And it's so nice to have co-workers who go to the same place as me and who have desks near mine and who I can say hello to.
That said, I'm super tired because I went to the mall after work to augment my dress pants selection. Not that I mind that I had to buy dress pants because my other ones were too big....
And after I left the mall I realized I'm completely exhausted. I've not slept well or enough for 3 nights in a row now... which I'm hoping makes for a much earlier bedtime tonight, considering that I'm going to have to be on a "normal" schedule for several months.
When I got home I changed into pjs but then decided that I was going to order pizza and decided my pj shorts were a little too short for opening my door to a complete stranger. So I'm in jeans but I've promised myself that the pjs are coming. Just like the pizza.... and the British.
We now forestall this blog post to bring you a contest of epic proportions!!!
Kara decided yesterday to give me a word of the day to work into my blog post. I did, and now I've decided to make it a challenge for you!
So hidden somewhere in this blog will be the secret word of the day. You can try and guess what the word is and the first person to 100 (either you or me) will win a fabulous prize (dreamed up by Kara.)
Points go thusly:
1 point for a correct guess
2 points to be the first person to guess correctly.
1 point for me for each day that no one guesses correctly in a row. (So the first day no one guesses correctly I get one point. The next day if no one guesses correctly I get two, the next three, ect-- but anytime someone does guess correctly my counter is restarted.)
Only one guess per blog post. Everyone keeps track of their own points and only comments made on the actual blog post count. (It's way too hard to verify points if facebook comments are also allowed and there is no way to track them.)
Every day I will announce what the secret word for the previous day's blog post is so that you can keep track of your points. Tomorrow I will make the announcement for both this blog and yesterday's blog. (You can make a guess both for today and for yesterday in the same comment if you want. Melissa, you can't vote in yesterday's since you already know, obviously.) No guesses count if they are posted after I've announced the word- duh.
The secret word could be just about anything. It could be tennis shoe. It could be handshake. It could be stir-fry or laundry or giggle or English or ponder or seestor, even though that's spelled completely nutso.
I will promise that it will never be an article (a grammatical article, not one in a newspaper or of clothing) and it will never be a pronoun... but other than that the world is your oyster, or clam, or a ladel..
We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post.
*beep beep beepity beep beep beep!*
I am trying very hard not to take a nap right now.
Being a grad assistant will be fun I think.
For one, I think I'll be good at helping people learn to use Blackboard. I get it pretty instinctively, and others apparently do not. And they *want* to learn it... it's useful to them, and gosh darn it if I don't like being helpful. Plus, it's a little like whoever I'm helping thinks that I'm magic.
Also, I'm not yet overwhelmed with classes and things that have to get done so it seems totally do-able.
And I feel productive.
And it's so nice to have co-workers who go to the same place as me and who have desks near mine and who I can say hello to.
That said, I'm super tired because I went to the mall after work to augment my dress pants selection. Not that I mind that I had to buy dress pants because my other ones were too big....
And after I left the mall I realized I'm completely exhausted. I've not slept well or enough for 3 nights in a row now... which I'm hoping makes for a much earlier bedtime tonight, considering that I'm going to have to be on a "normal" schedule for several months.
When I got home I changed into pjs but then decided that I was going to order pizza and decided my pj shorts were a little too short for opening my door to a complete stranger. So I'm in jeans but I've promised myself that the pjs are coming. Just like the pizza.... and the British.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Orientated
So my printer is busted... error code b200. I've looked it up and apparently it has something to do with an the printhead getting too hot and burning out a nozzle. That or the printhead could just be clogged, but I've cleaned that thing within an inch of it's life and it's still not working, so I'm pretty sure it's that the printhead got burnt out somehow. Evidently every printer should also come with a radiator so it doesn't overheat? Now, I have to order a new printhead. boo.
I love that Google makes me sound like I know what I'm talking about.
Orientation was today... I wish there was some sort of test you could take to opt out of orientation. I really didn't need to go to it... I think I was already fully orientated. It made me think of Nathan a good deal... just knowing that he went through this all... and remembering the stories he told me, and how much he complained about orientation, too.
I'm really happy with my life. I think I'm in a good place, but there are still days when his absence is still *so* tangible... I really miss him, and that's never going to go away. It's not as if he's just some friend who I've lost touch with... Sometimes I think about how much I'd just like to be able to talk to him. Just a few minutes.
But I know it wouldn't be enough. And it would probably make focusing on my future pretty hard.
But sometimes I don't care about all the justifications. I just want to talk to him.
Hmmmmm maybe I should stop listening to this sad Pandora country station?
I love that Google makes me sound like I know what I'm talking about.
Orientation was today... I wish there was some sort of test you could take to opt out of orientation. I really didn't need to go to it... I think I was already fully orientated. It made me think of Nathan a good deal... just knowing that he went through this all... and remembering the stories he told me, and how much he complained about orientation, too.
I'm really happy with my life. I think I'm in a good place, but there are still days when his absence is still *so* tangible... I really miss him, and that's never going to go away. It's not as if he's just some friend who I've lost touch with... Sometimes I think about how much I'd just like to be able to talk to him. Just a few minutes.
But I know it wouldn't be enough. And it would probably make focusing on my future pretty hard.
But sometimes I don't care about all the justifications. I just want to talk to him.
Hmmmmm maybe I should stop listening to this sad Pandora country station?
Not So Self-Possessed
So apparently I'm very self-possessed.
Since I was like 12, I've been told that before performances I always seem so calm. People say things like, "You don't seem nervous." And they ask me how I'm doing, because I'm so stoic on the outside.
Sometimes I think that's why I'm so straightforward with what I'm feeling (especially on here)... Because if I don't tell people what I'm feeling it's pretty hard to just guess unless you know me really well.
So here's my confession: On the outside I seem calm, but on the inside I'm racing around like a hampster on speed and meth and bath salts.
*** Be careful! I could eat your face! Cause I'm a thug!***
But I don't want to admit that I'm nervous. Cause what good would that do? Then we'll both know that I'm nervous... and then I'll start thinking about how you know I'm nervous and so maybe you'll start thinking this thing that I planned to do is actually a nervous tic or something and you won't know that I totally planned that. Yeah! I might MEAN to say "ummmm" 40 times!
While I'm performing, I'm fine I have a place to channel it all... except I maybe talk a little fast and my conclusions are awkward.
But then I finish and I have all this adrenaline and performance high and nervous energy still coursing through my body. And suddenly I'm too hot, and I'm jittery, and I can't keep the stoic front up anymore, and I just want to *do* something.
When I was in high school and it was a play I'd come home and want to sit outside for hours wishing I had some place to go.
When I was in college I would gather up some friends and go find a park and get on a swing and go as high as I could.
It was weird to have a "performance" in the morning and have the rest of my day to go about.
So now, I get lots and lots of reassurance from my friends... and let someone talk to me about something delightfully mundane so that I don't run around the sanctuary area like the aforementioned hampster, and I laugh, and I go out to eat, and I look at a table over-flowing with my friends eating and talking and laughing- sometimes even singing... and I think how incredibly blessed I am. Some people don't have friends like I do.
I think that this morning went really well. My friends tell me so and some people who I barely knew complimented me, too. All I really wanted was to share how much God has done for me.. and how much I think He wants to do for all of us.
And tomorrow starts the first day of the rest of my life... how's that for auspicious?
Since I was like 12, I've been told that before performances I always seem so calm. People say things like, "You don't seem nervous." And they ask me how I'm doing, because I'm so stoic on the outside.
Sometimes I think that's why I'm so straightforward with what I'm feeling (especially on here)... Because if I don't tell people what I'm feeling it's pretty hard to just guess unless you know me really well.
So here's my confession: On the outside I seem calm, but on the inside I'm racing around like a hampster on speed and meth and bath salts.
*** Be careful! I could eat your face! Cause I'm a thug!***
But I don't want to admit that I'm nervous. Cause what good would that do? Then we'll both know that I'm nervous... and then I'll start thinking about how you know I'm nervous and so maybe you'll start thinking this thing that I planned to do is actually a nervous tic or something and you won't know that I totally planned that. Yeah! I might MEAN to say "ummmm" 40 times!
While I'm performing, I'm fine I have a place to channel it all... except I maybe talk a little fast and my conclusions are awkward.
But then I finish and I have all this adrenaline and performance high and nervous energy still coursing through my body. And suddenly I'm too hot, and I'm jittery, and I can't keep the stoic front up anymore, and I just want to *do* something.
When I was in high school and it was a play I'd come home and want to sit outside for hours wishing I had some place to go.
When I was in college I would gather up some friends and go find a park and get on a swing and go as high as I could.
It was weird to have a "performance" in the morning and have the rest of my day to go about.
So now, I get lots and lots of reassurance from my friends... and let someone talk to me about something delightfully mundane so that I don't run around the sanctuary area like the aforementioned hampster, and I laugh, and I go out to eat, and I look at a table over-flowing with my friends eating and talking and laughing- sometimes even singing... and I think how incredibly blessed I am. Some people don't have friends like I do.
I think that this morning went really well. My friends tell me so and some people who I barely knew complimented me, too. All I really wanted was to share how much God has done for me.. and how much I think He wants to do for all of us.
And tomorrow starts the first day of the rest of my life... how's that for auspicious?
Saturday, August 11, 2012
A Very Big Whirlwind
I rearranged my movie collection this evening and finally found my lost Netflix... I've had "I Am Number Four" since before I moved, but it was lost and I finally found it.
I thought it was great.
Here's the thing. I don't have refined tastes in movies. I don't appreciate artsy things enough, and I can't discuss at length why I do or don't like a movie until days after the fact.
That said, Nathan was always shocked because if I said I wanted to see a movie, he normally liked it. Even if I sorta had to drag him to the screen, once he started watching it he really liked it. He called it my sixth sense about movies. Eventually he started trusting me about what movies we should see, but it did take a while. And of course there were movies that he wanted to see and enjoyed that I didn't even a little bit.
I'm speaking at church tomorrow. I'm finally starting to get a few butterflies about it. But hopefully it will all go alright. If the recording works I'll link it on here when it's posted.
And then Monday is New Grad Student Orientation.
And then Tuesday I start my Grad Assistantship
And then this weekend I go home.
And then the next Tuesday I start classes.
It's all a very big whirlwind of changes.
Honestly it might be all that stuff I'm feeling butterflies about, rather than about speaking. Who knows.
Do you ever get that tingling on the back of your neck? Like all your nerves are super alive cause you know your life is about to change?
I thought it was great.
Here's the thing. I don't have refined tastes in movies. I don't appreciate artsy things enough, and I can't discuss at length why I do or don't like a movie until days after the fact.
That said, Nathan was always shocked because if I said I wanted to see a movie, he normally liked it. Even if I sorta had to drag him to the screen, once he started watching it he really liked it. He called it my sixth sense about movies. Eventually he started trusting me about what movies we should see, but it did take a while. And of course there were movies that he wanted to see and enjoyed that I didn't even a little bit.
I'm speaking at church tomorrow. I'm finally starting to get a few butterflies about it. But hopefully it will all go alright. If the recording works I'll link it on here when it's posted.
And then Monday is New Grad Student Orientation.
And then Tuesday I start my Grad Assistantship
And then this weekend I go home.
And then the next Tuesday I start classes.
It's all a very big whirlwind of changes.
Honestly it might be all that stuff I'm feeling butterflies about, rather than about speaking. Who knows.
Do you ever get that tingling on the back of your neck? Like all your nerves are super alive cause you know your life is about to change?
Timeline
I so wish I could skip ahead a few chapters in my life and find out what's coming and then skip back... but only the good parts... I don't want to know about the bad parts. I'm quite sure of that.
Or a timeline of my life.
All laid out with the happy things-- but not with my death (or anyone else's) on it but things like- first kiss, and first time Renée liked coffee, and engagements... I just wish I knew that there were lots of happy things to look forward to in a way that's more tangible than my "feelings"
There are a lot of times I think I know what's going to happen in my life. And there are a lot of times I'm right... like creepy-right.
But I always have this nagging feeling that the only reason I'm right is that I have just as many thoughts that are wrong, but after the fact I either forget them or pass them off as though, "Well, yeah I thought that, but I *knew* this." And maybe the only difference between my "thoughts" and my "knowings" is that one of them comes to pass and the other doesn't.
I'm not sure if I fear having insight or not having insight more.
I think it's not.... I so want to think I'm special.
And so does everyone else in the world.
I think a lot of people get surprised by me because I'm really straightforward with my feelings normally... If I know what I'm feeling, and if you want to know... well, then I'll tell you- you have but to ask. I'm not normally ashamed of my feelings and I try not to hide from them... Sometimes I can even control them, by just logic-ing my way around. Not all the times though. Feelings are tricksy little buggers.
Feeling a bit introspecty tonight... apparently it's come out in blog form.
Or a timeline of my life.
All laid out with the happy things-- but not with my death (or anyone else's) on it but things like- first kiss, and first time Renée liked coffee, and engagements... I just wish I knew that there were lots of happy things to look forward to in a way that's more tangible than my "feelings"
There are a lot of times I think I know what's going to happen in my life. And there are a lot of times I'm right... like creepy-right.
But I always have this nagging feeling that the only reason I'm right is that I have just as many thoughts that are wrong, but after the fact I either forget them or pass them off as though, "Well, yeah I thought that, but I *knew* this." And maybe the only difference between my "thoughts" and my "knowings" is that one of them comes to pass and the other doesn't.
I'm not sure if I fear having insight or not having insight more.
I think it's not.... I so want to think I'm special.
And so does everyone else in the world.
I think a lot of people get surprised by me because I'm really straightforward with my feelings normally... If I know what I'm feeling, and if you want to know... well, then I'll tell you- you have but to ask. I'm not normally ashamed of my feelings and I try not to hide from them... Sometimes I can even control them, by just logic-ing my way around. Not all the times though. Feelings are tricksy little buggers.
Feeling a bit introspecty tonight... apparently it's come out in blog form.
Friday, August 10, 2012
13 of 30
Taken from the list:
13. Describe 5 weaknesses you have.
Well the first one is pretty obvious if you know me/read my blog at all.
1) I care way too much what other people think of me.
I do... I care so much and there is no reason for it. I don't think others are better than me, but I don't want them to think that I'm lacking or lesser or just not very much fun. I want them to want to be my friend. I want them all to want to be my friend. I want them to think I'm so great that they tell their friends to be my friend in a domino friendship effect.
2) I'm stubborn. (When people are trying to be nice they call it determined or loyal.)
But the truth is I'm just plain stubborn. I don't like being told what I can't or shouldn't do unless you are a person in actual authority. I really hate being manipulated and if I feel like I'm being herded or pushed in a certain direction I will dig in my heels like a mule and t'aint no moving me.
3) I really don't know myself very well.
I operate almost purely on insight... so a lot of times I know what a person is thinking or feeling based on how they act... but I can miss really obvious things about myself because I normally don't take that much time to self-analyze.... I do almost no introspection. and this results in blinding insights like "Oh my friends all compliment me all the time! That's why I like them so much." This is not a blinding insight to anyone else... it more like blindingly obvious.
4) I'm really particular.
I try not to be... and being married to Nathan was convenient because he was way pickier than I am- food -wise... but it's kinda ridiculous. Half the reason why I bake so much is because of my strong and particular tastes. I try new things and I've even started to enjoy things that I didn't use to like... but still I have definite preferences... I try not to broadcast them as I don't like offending people or hurting anyone's feelings. And it's not just food. I have the same sorts of preferences for guys, friends, music, movies, books, ect. I just try and keep them to myself and expose myself to more than just what I'd like.
5) I don't mind chaos.
If you saw how many tabs I keep open in a window, the clean clothes strewn all over my bedroom, the state of my computer desk you wouldn't find this very surprising. I'm not organized. I just work around messes and I don't normally care. This wouldn't be a problem except when other people are exposed to my life for prolonged periods of time and they have to deal with it. Then it's a problem and I feel bad about it.
13. Describe 5 weaknesses you have.
Well the first one is pretty obvious if you know me/read my blog at all.
1) I care way too much what other people think of me.
I do... I care so much and there is no reason for it. I don't think others are better than me, but I don't want them to think that I'm lacking or lesser or just not very much fun. I want them to want to be my friend. I want them all to want to be my friend. I want them to think I'm so great that they tell their friends to be my friend in a domino friendship effect.
2) I'm stubborn. (When people are trying to be nice they call it determined or loyal.)
But the truth is I'm just plain stubborn. I don't like being told what I can't or shouldn't do unless you are a person in actual authority. I really hate being manipulated and if I feel like I'm being herded or pushed in a certain direction I will dig in my heels like a mule and t'aint no moving me.
3) I really don't know myself very well.
I operate almost purely on insight... so a lot of times I know what a person is thinking or feeling based on how they act... but I can miss really obvious things about myself because I normally don't take that much time to self-analyze.... I do almost no introspection. and this results in blinding insights like "Oh my friends all compliment me all the time! That's why I like them so much." This is not a blinding insight to anyone else... it more like blindingly obvious.
4) I'm really particular.
I try not to be... and being married to Nathan was convenient because he was way pickier than I am- food -wise... but it's kinda ridiculous. Half the reason why I bake so much is because of my strong and particular tastes. I try new things and I've even started to enjoy things that I didn't use to like... but still I have definite preferences... I try not to broadcast them as I don't like offending people or hurting anyone's feelings. And it's not just food. I have the same sorts of preferences for guys, friends, music, movies, books, ect. I just try and keep them to myself and expose myself to more than just what I'd like.
5) I don't mind chaos.
If you saw how many tabs I keep open in a window, the clean clothes strewn all over my bedroom, the state of my computer desk you wouldn't find this very surprising. I'm not organized. I just work around messes and I don't normally care. This wouldn't be a problem except when other people are exposed to my life for prolonged periods of time and they have to deal with it. Then it's a problem and I feel bad about it.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Praiseworthy
I was talking to a friend tonight about Kara and I and our friendship. And at one point I said something to the effect, "I marvel at times how we are such good friends. Kara and I are so different."
And it was suggested that it was because we are opposites... or because we lived together in the dorms... and I think those things help but as I was thinking, it all came down to one thing.
I'm Kara's friend because I know that she likes me. She tells me so, quite often.
And that's when it occurred to me. That's the reason why I'm friends withpretty much all of my friends. It's not "pretty much" it really is all of them.
I'm total crap at compliments, but every single one of my friends is good at.
Supposedly it's a Leo trait-- responding really warmly to praise... it's certainly a Renée trait.
It's the one thing that all my friends have in common. Introvert/Extrovert. Thinker/Feeler. New/Old. They all praise me.
It's why I loved the limmerick themed birthday so much.
I mean I think that I'd already determined that my main love language is words of affirmation... I hadn't realized it was the tie that binds all my relationships though!
It's amazing how little I know about myself... and yet I hope I never stop getting these flashes of personal insight. I really like them.
And it was suggested that it was because we are opposites... or because we lived together in the dorms... and I think those things help but as I was thinking, it all came down to one thing.
I'm Kara's friend because I know that she likes me. She tells me so, quite often.
And that's when it occurred to me. That's the reason why I'm friends with
I'm total crap at compliments, but every single one of my friends is good at.
Supposedly it's a Leo trait-- responding really warmly to praise... it's certainly a Renée trait.
It's the one thing that all my friends have in common. Introvert/Extrovert. Thinker/Feeler. New/Old. They all praise me.
It's why I loved the limmerick themed birthday so much.
I mean I think that I'd already determined that my main love language is words of affirmation... I hadn't realized it was the tie that binds all my relationships though!
It's amazing how little I know about myself... and yet I hope I never stop getting these flashes of personal insight. I really like them.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Focus!
I'm struggling mightily to write.
Here's what I've done today to procrastinate:
Got my parking permit
Went to the Student Bookstore
Pondered how good it's going to be for me to be walking across campus everyday.
Dropped things off at the church
Went to Brown Egg "to work"
Ate lunch
Ordered all my text books
E-mailed people
Went to Starbucks in hopes that I'd work better there
Wrote 2 pages in two hours
Gave up
Came home and watched Torchwood
Curled my hair
Took pictures of all my nail polish and re-organized them
Ate dinner
Chatted
Watched another episode of Torchwood
Did a few griddler puzzles
Wrote this blog
I have no idea why it's so hard for me to focus and just write. I've tried people. I've tried no people. I've tried music. I've tried no music.
I'm supposed to send this to my group tomorrow... well, today, now... and I'm not getting anything done.
I feel so distracted... like I can only get something done if it takes less than 5 minutes of concentration or takes absolutely no effort from me.
I'm starting to get annoyed with myself.
Where did my focus go?
If you find it, will you send it my way?
Here's what I've done today to procrastinate:
Got my parking permit
Went to the Student Bookstore
Pondered how good it's going to be for me to be walking across campus everyday.
Dropped things off at the church
Went to Brown Egg "to work"
Ate lunch
Ordered all my text books
E-mailed people
Went to Starbucks in hopes that I'd work better there
Wrote 2 pages in two hours
Gave up
Came home and watched Torchwood
Curled my hair
Took pictures of all my nail polish and re-organized them
Ate dinner
Chatted
Watched another episode of Torchwood
Did a few griddler puzzles
Wrote this blog
I have no idea why it's so hard for me to focus and just write. I've tried people. I've tried no people. I've tried music. I've tried no music.
I'm supposed to send this to my group tomorrow... well, today, now... and I'm not getting anything done.
I feel so distracted... like I can only get something done if it takes less than 5 minutes of concentration or takes absolutely no effort from me.
I'm starting to get annoyed with myself.
Where did my focus go?
If you find it, will you send it my way?
Monday, August 6, 2012
12 of 30
I went to bed at 9 yesterday.... well, actually, today, because that's 9AM not 9PM.
I made myself get up at 1:15 or so and I'm struggled through today, rather tired. And I'm going to go to bed tonight early and mayhaps I will, at last, have reset my schedule to something approaching normal.
So the issue with number 12 on the list is this:
12. Describe a typical day in your current life.
I made myself get up at 1:15 or so and I'm struggled through today, rather tired. And I'm going to go to bed tonight early and mayhaps I will, at last, have reset my schedule to something approaching normal.
So the issue with number 12 on the list is this:
12. Describe a typical day in your current life.
There is no such thing right now. Next week it will all change. Next week I will start a schedule, next week I will have a job. But I don't want to wait until then to move on with the list, because even then my Mondays are gonna look a lot different from my Tuesdays.
So here is what my typical day looks like:
Wake up too late.
Get dressed.
Decide the day's plan.
Take forever to put on make up and get ready to go.
Leave house for store/Starbucks/to meet up with friends.
Come home.
Sit in front of computer- writing, watching Netflix, or chatting... possibly all 3.
Blog.
Stay up too late.
Repeat.
But that's all going to change soon. And tomorrow is dedicated to taking care of campus errands, like books, and parking passes, and whatnot.
In other words, you just can't ever tell with me.
But I did schedule my car to get maintenance today and I feel rather proud of myself for that.
Taking care of my car makes me feel independent.... I guess it's because it's something that guys are "supposed" to do? Regardless, that's the plan for Thursday. I'm sure I'll do other things, too. Cause that's how I roll-- schedule-less... at least for a few more days.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Great Limerick, Part 2
You may have noticed that Kara's limerick didn't make the cut two days ago. This is because she drug a frowned upon inside joke into it-- one that I don't really want burned into the internet for all time.
But this morning she woke me up to say goodbye and had three limericks for me, bringing her limerick total up to four (She does so hate to be out-done.) ;)
So here are Kara's *real* limericks:
You change every person you meet
by being yourself- oh so sweet.
I was a real bitch,
now my life is so rich.
The gospel is spread by your feet!
You challenge me to be ... "nice"
for my sin, you oft' pay the price.
You share all you own,
righteous seeds you have sown, ((and great costumes!))
of loving you, moms don't think twice.
I am who I am, 'cause you are who you are.
In every relationship you raise the bar.
I win when you win.
We're closer than kin.
We'll be bff's always- no distance too far.
But this morning she woke me up to say goodbye and had three limericks for me, bringing her limerick total up to four (She does so hate to be out-done.) ;)
So here are Kara's *real* limericks:
You change every person you meet
by being yourself- oh so sweet.
I was a real bitch,
now my life is so rich.
The gospel is spread by your feet!
You challenge me to be ... "nice"
for my sin, you oft' pay the price.
You share all you own,
righteous seeds you have sown, ((and great costumes!))
of loving you, moms don't think twice.
I am who I am, 'cause you are who you are.
In every relationship you raise the bar.
I win when you win.
We're closer than kin.
We'll be bff's always- no distance too far.
Sad panda is sad
Another really great day- though I must say that I'm super tired from all the birthday extravaganza.
Also, those girls in Maurices know how to sell clothes.
... Don't want Kara to go 'way. :(
I might be sad panda in snow tomorrow....
... So the problem with friends who really like to quote internet memes, is that you start quoting them too, without actually knowing the reference...
... and then you try to figure out the reference by searching sad panda in snow...
but you don't even know what to use as a search term when "sad panda in snow" doesn't turn anything up...
Here's the "Sad panda" meme... which I also knew nothing about...
.. and I guess anyone's sadder when they are in snow?
or maybe "in snow" is another meme that is colliding with the sad panda meme??
I have no idea, but I know what a sad panda is.
in snow
Also, those girls in Maurices know how to sell clothes.
... Don't want Kara to go 'way. :(
I might be sad panda in snow tomorrow....
... So the problem with friends who really like to quote internet memes, is that you start quoting them too, without actually knowing the reference...
... and then you try to figure out the reference by searching sad panda in snow...
but you don't even know what to use as a search term when "sad panda in snow" doesn't turn anything up...
Here's the "Sad panda" meme... which I also knew nothing about...
.. and I guess anyone's sadder when they are in snow?
or maybe "in snow" is another meme that is colliding with the sad panda meme??
I have no idea, but I know what a sad panda is.
in snow
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Great Limerick!
I like to think that "Great Limerick!" is something that we will now say when shocked- like how Dr. Brown says "Great Scott!" in Back to the Future.
So today I was woken up by a phone call from Kara... yes.... it was noon. A girl can sleep as late as she wants on her birthday! I actually missed the first call, but then I called her right back and I'm glad I did, because she told me that she had good and bad news...
The good news is she got a job in Philly. The bad news is she has training that starts August 14th and so can't come back for the friend-a-versary like we planned... but the other good news was... *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!* And there she was! It was really exciting. I ran downstairs like it was Christmas.
So last Friday, Kara actually came up with the idea that I should have people write me limericks for my birthday...
Best. Idea. Ever.
And now I will share with you some of the greats from today:
A birthday rhyme for my friend Renée
Of her beauty I can't fully convey
She has nails with a map
and bakes desserts in a snap
We will buy her bestsellers someday.
-Natalie
Our friend Renée always bakes
Lots of pies, lots of cookies and cakes
Cause we just can't say no
to her treats made from dough
we're all getting fat, goodness sakes!
- Bill
There's this girl that I know named Renée
She has to have Starbucks each day
White Peppermint Mocha
To start up her mot'a
Now up way too late she will stay
-Lissa
This one has a bit of meter issues, but it's too great not to share:
Surfing facebook on my cellular phone
while sitting here on my porcelain throne.
DING-A-LING-A-LING! Tagged in a post.
Jessie has summoned a limerick for Renée, the host!
WOW! What's that smell? Was it my own?
Anyways, back to the topic of the day.
Renée, sit back, relax and enjoy what I have to say.
No funny business, stinky socks, or rotten fish.
Just a heartfelt, warm birthday wish!
For all those you hold dear to send love your way!
Glancing through posts both new and old,
I wanted to see what all you had been told.
What I realized was almost everyone's downfall!
Hardly anyone can follow directions at all!
Most gave a quick reply, but a few broke the mold!
So on your special day, and a limerick you request,
I issue you this, but a simple test:
Who is lovely and caring and sweeter than sweet?
Who can bake amazing cookies that'll never be beat?
If you guessed Renée, you're correct! She's one of the best!
My birthday wishes are lame
Just a simple "Happy Birthday!"--all the same
But I figured "Why not?"
"I'll give this a shot"
"and pen a birthday limerick for Renée"
In no time the first line was written
The standard "Once was a girl..."--I was smitten
Then came line two
And quickly I was through
Limericks are difficult.
Happy Birthday!
So today I was woken up by a phone call from Kara... yes.... it was noon. A girl can sleep as late as she wants on her birthday! I actually missed the first call, but then I called her right back and I'm glad I did, because she told me that she had good and bad news...
The good news is she got a job in Philly. The bad news is she has training that starts August 14th and so can't come back for the friend-a-versary like we planned... but the other good news was... *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!* And there she was! It was really exciting. I ran downstairs like it was Christmas.
So last Friday, Kara actually came up with the idea that I should have people write me limericks for my birthday...
Best. Idea. Ever.
And now I will share with you some of the greats from today:
A birthday rhyme for my friend Renée
Of her beauty I can't fully convey
She has nails with a map
and bakes desserts in a snap
We will buy her bestsellers someday.
-Natalie
Our friend Renée always bakes
Lots of pies, lots of cookies and cakes
Cause we just can't say no
to her treats made from dough
we're all getting fat, goodness sakes!
- Bill
There's this girl that I know named Renée
She has to have Starbucks each day
White Peppermint Mocha
To start up her mot'a
Now up way too late she will stay
-Lissa
This one has a bit of meter issues, but it's too great not to share:
Surfing facebook on my cellular phone
while sitting here on my porcelain throne.
DING-A-LING-A-LING! Tagged in a post.
Jessie has summoned a limerick for Renée, the host!
WOW! What's that smell? Was it my own?
Anyways, back to the topic of the day.
Renée, sit back, relax and enjoy what I have to say.
No funny business, stinky socks, or rotten fish.
Just a heartfelt, warm birthday wish!
For all those you hold dear to send love your way!
Glancing through posts both new and old,
I wanted to see what all you had been told.
What I realized was almost everyone's downfall!
Hardly anyone can follow directions at all!
Most gave a quick reply, but a few broke the mold!
So on your special day, and a limerick you request,
I issue you this, but a simple test:
Who is lovely and caring and sweeter than sweet?
Who can bake amazing cookies that'll never be beat?
If you guessed Renée, you're correct! She's one of the best!
-Mike
Just a simple "Happy Birthday!"--all the same
But I figured "Why not?"
"I'll give this a shot"
"and pen a birthday limerick for Renée"
In no time the first line was written
The standard "Once was a girl..."--I was smitten
Then came line two
And quickly I was through
Limericks are difficult.
Happy Birthday!
-Joe
There once was a girl named, Renée
Who's name happened to rhyme with "bidet"
She so hated the term
That she threatened to burn
Any who uttered it on her birthday
*pause* *deep breath*
So.. there was a fellow, name of Ryan
In imminent danger of fryin'
So to save his skin
He pleaded this then:
(deadpan voice)
"Happy birthday Renée... please don't kill me"
-Burrell (whose name is also Ryan but that's confusing, so I call him Burrell)
Helpful and personable, she will plan an event
Bring people together, not one she resents
but the é in her name is a fake
so you'll think she is French by mistake
(in a crazy French accent)
'cause it gives her excuses to speak in accents.
-Ryan
And then I think the piece dé resistance* (also penned by Ryan)
Renée, Renée, fabulous she
witty and charming, open-handed and free
Her only downfall
-if she has one at all
Is trying to make me watch that stupid show, Glee
I so enjoyed this birthday limerick extravaganza. I love my friends and I love laughing and I love all the wonderful compliments being written down so I can refer to them over and over.
Kara says next year is sonnets... but she does have a tendency to take things a bit over the top.
*the piece dé resistance says "stupid" for parental controls.... (like literally for the parentals who read this.... Ryan has strong feelingstowards against Glee. -- so much that he just made me change it when I said "towards" because (direct quote) "I'm not 'toward' Glee in any way.")
*the piece dé resistance says "stupid" for parental controls.... (like literally for the parentals who read this.... Ryan has strong feelings
Friday, August 3, 2012
Birthday
There once was a girl- name of Kara
Whose birthday idea she did share-a
Write limericks for me
Heck, write twenty-three
Be witty and funny- I dare ya!
 |
| My nails are fun-fetti and look at the name of that nail polish! |
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Holy weird coping mechanisms, Batman!
Hey! Did you know that my birthday is on Friday?
Well, it is. And I've gotten a card/e-mail for a free cupcake, a free coffee, a free pastry, and a free 10 dollars (with 20 dollar purchase.)
I love my birthday!
Did you know that it's 5:40?
Whoops.
I was reading a book.
Adorable.
Remember that.
I miss the dining hall. They would be open at 6 in the morning when I accidentally stayed up all night reading a book.
Yeah, I never stayed up all night "accidentally" in college. It was always on purpose.
I have some strangely fond memories of very early morning Sodexho trips, though.
Wow... yeah... I only have *really* good feelings towards super early mornings in the dorms.
So since Kara left I've made two paintings.... Kara thinks it's funny that I say I "made" a painting rather than "painting" a painting but that's confusing.
AmIright?
I don't know what my strange compulsion to decorate when dealing with loneliness is about.
Beautification is my coping mechanism?
Holy weird coping mechanisms, Batman!
PS I thought that coconut milk "Ice Cream" would be good.... I was sooo soo wrong. Glad I got a Blue Bunny backup.
Well, it is. And I've gotten a card/e-mail for a free cupcake, a free coffee, a free pastry, and a free 10 dollars (with 20 dollar purchase.)
I love my birthday!
Did you know that it's 5:40?
Whoops.
I was reading a book.
Adorable.
Remember that.
I miss the dining hall. They would be open at 6 in the morning when I accidentally stayed up all night reading a book.
Yeah, I never stayed up all night "accidentally" in college. It was always on purpose.
I have some strangely fond memories of very early morning Sodexho trips, though.
Wow... yeah... I only have *really* good feelings towards super early mornings in the dorms.
So since Kara left I've made two paintings.... Kara thinks it's funny that I say I "made" a painting rather than "painting" a painting but that's confusing.
AmIright?
I don't know what my strange compulsion to decorate when dealing with loneliness is about.
Beautification is my coping mechanism?
Holy weird coping mechanisms, Batman!
PS I thought that coconut milk "Ice Cream" would be good.... I was sooo soo wrong. Glad I got a Blue Bunny backup.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
11 of 30
Time for number 11 on the list!
11. Describe 10 pet peeves you have
Uhhhhhh... I don't think I have 10 pet peeves... Well, I'll give it a go... maybe I'll hit my stride and realize that I do have 10.
1) Unsolicited pity.
This might be one of the reasons why I so often find myself drawn to men. If something's going on with me I like for it to be acknowledged, yeah, and if I bring it up I want to talk about it, but I don't need or want any of the "Oh you poor thing" mentality. If I'm upset and hurting about it, sympathy will make me cry and if I'm not, I don't normally want a reminder of it.
2) Distaste for something mainstream just because it's mainstream.
I think it's stupid if you don't like a movie, or a book, or a band, or a color, or anything else just because a lot of other people like it. Try it and then make your decision. And even if your decision is the same at least you now have a reason. It's just as stupid to dislike something because it's popular as to like something because it's popular. And this is why I'll never be a hipster.
3) The offensive stance
And by this I don't mean a stance that I disagree with... I mean a stance that someone takes and basically announces to the world that if a person doesn't agree with them then the dissenters are a bunch of morons-- or they hate the planet-- or they are going to get cancer-- or kill babies. This usually happens when people are feeling defensive about their decision. I know I've certainly seen it the most in regards to pregnancy/parenthood, but it can happen regarding just about anything... You probably see this the most blatantly on facebook. I don't anymore, because I hide the people who do it. The kicker is that half the time I agree with what they are saying, but they say it in such a way that it makes me angry and want to switch sides.
4) Being patronized
This is an old one. I'm short. I'm cute. I *used* to be the youngest one in most situations. I don't care for political conversations and I really like people. I choose to look on the bright side, I like rainbows and nail polish. I don't like to make decisions that affect more people than myself. While I can't help my height or looks, all of my attitudes are choices. They are what I want. None of this means that I don't know what I'm doing. None of it means that I'm a ditz. None of it means I can't follow a very complicated discussion in technical jargon I've only been exposed to a few times. Talk down to me and earn my eternal scorn.
5) Handlebar mustaches
Ok, I'm not sure this is a pet peeve as much as a slightly grossed out cry of, "Whyyyyyy?"
6) "Faked" hospital rooms (in television, movies, books, ect)
I have an especial problem with fake-looking intubation for breathing. I know that they aren't actually going to intubate someone just for a show, but get the machine sounds right. Get it to look at least a little bit accurate. Hire freaking nurse consultant for a day.
7) Cheat Flirting
I've talked about this before. I think touching a guy (a lot) who you are flirting with is cheating. Of course the girl who throws herself all over a guy is going to get the most attention... but is he interested in you or in the happy touch-endorphins you are creating?
8) Arguers
I have a viewpoint. You have a viewpoint. Sometimes it happens that they are not in accord. I do not want to talk about them until I agree with you.
9) "You look tired"
If I am tired I know it and likely don't need to be reminded. If I'm not then the person basically told me that I look like crap. Awesome.
10) That my houseelves don't do anything.
Seriously. For as little work as I see accomplished they might as well not even exist. It's just ridiculous
Ok, so I got 4 pet peeves, 4 slightly annoying things, and 2 semi-random things. I bet you can figure out which is which!
11. Describe 10 pet peeves you have
Uhhhhhh... I don't think I have 10 pet peeves... Well, I'll give it a go... maybe I'll hit my stride and realize that I do have 10.
1) Unsolicited pity.
This might be one of the reasons why I so often find myself drawn to men. If something's going on with me I like for it to be acknowledged, yeah, and if I bring it up I want to talk about it, but I don't need or want any of the "Oh you poor thing" mentality. If I'm upset and hurting about it, sympathy will make me cry and if I'm not, I don't normally want a reminder of it.
2) Distaste for something mainstream just because it's mainstream.
I think it's stupid if you don't like a movie, or a book, or a band, or a color, or anything else just because a lot of other people like it. Try it and then make your decision. And even if your decision is the same at least you now have a reason. It's just as stupid to dislike something because it's popular as to like something because it's popular. And this is why I'll never be a hipster.
3) The offensive stance
And by this I don't mean a stance that I disagree with... I mean a stance that someone takes and basically announces to the world that if a person doesn't agree with them then the dissenters are a bunch of morons-- or they hate the planet-- or they are going to get cancer-- or kill babies. This usually happens when people are feeling defensive about their decision. I know I've certainly seen it the most in regards to pregnancy/parenthood, but it can happen regarding just about anything... You probably see this the most blatantly on facebook. I don't anymore, because I hide the people who do it. The kicker is that half the time I agree with what they are saying, but they say it in such a way that it makes me angry and want to switch sides.
4) Being patronized
This is an old one. I'm short. I'm cute. I *used* to be the youngest one in most situations. I don't care for political conversations and I really like people. I choose to look on the bright side, I like rainbows and nail polish. I don't like to make decisions that affect more people than myself. While I can't help my height or looks, all of my attitudes are choices. They are what I want. None of this means that I don't know what I'm doing. None of it means that I'm a ditz. None of it means I can't follow a very complicated discussion in technical jargon I've only been exposed to a few times. Talk down to me and earn my eternal scorn.
5) Handlebar mustaches
Ok, I'm not sure this is a pet peeve as much as a slightly grossed out cry of, "Whyyyyyy?"
6) "Faked" hospital rooms (in television, movies, books, ect)
I have an especial problem with fake-looking intubation for breathing. I know that they aren't actually going to intubate someone just for a show, but get the machine sounds right. Get it to look at least a little bit accurate. Hire freaking nurse consultant for a day.
7) Cheat Flirting
I've talked about this before. I think touching a guy (a lot) who you are flirting with is cheating. Of course the girl who throws herself all over a guy is going to get the most attention... but is he interested in you or in the happy touch-endorphins you are creating?
8) Arguers
I have a viewpoint. You have a viewpoint. Sometimes it happens that they are not in accord. I do not want to talk about them until I agree with you.
9) "You look tired"
If I am tired I know it and likely don't need to be reminded. If I'm not then the person basically told me that I look like crap. Awesome.
10) That my houseelves don't do anything.
Seriously. For as little work as I see accomplished they might as well not even exist. It's just ridiculous
Ok, so I got 4 pet peeves, 4 slightly annoying things, and 2 semi-random things. I bet you can figure out which is which!
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