Sometimes I think the hardest thing to do is start. Usually, but not always, once you’ve started, actually doing the thing you’ve started is relatively easy. It’s the beginning that is the problem. As I am thinking about this new little philosophy of mine, I think that it can be applied to almost any area of life.
Relationships: Pretty self-explanatory. Coming from someone who’s had 1 – that’s right -1 (come on, are you really that surprised?) real relationship, I know that that first step out of the whole “comfort zone of friends” is the most complicated, and the scariest. (hold on, I need to go get a cup of tea)… Alright. (oh, crap. Just realized I put a tea bag in the mug, went to have a sip, and there was no water added.) Ahhhh. (much better). OK, back to the topic at hand. Starting a relationship. Virtually impossible. In fact, I’m pretty surprised that anyone is married. My problem is not that I’m “not easy to talk to” or that I’m “just not hot enough.” Its that I’m “friend” material. I’m every guy’s easy-to-talk-to pal type. I’m not the “girlfriend” type. I don’t know why, but this has been the way of it my whole life. I don’t ever get past the “friend” stage with guys. Ok, next topic.
Jobs: Interviews are the worst part of a job often, especially if you are unemployed and you’ll do the job regardless of what it is. If, by some chance, you do get hired, the first day is usually nerve-wracking hell.
Being alive: Ask your mom. She’ll tell you how much fun the first moments of your life were.
The start of being single again: When you get to start over as a “singleton” it is not necessarily the end of the relationship that is bad (don’t get me wrong, in some cases, that heartache is virtually unbearable – but I don't know about this as much) but often it is the telling people you’re single, having them say “I’m so sorry” or “oh, that jerk, I knew he was no good” or (and this is my personal favorite) “I told you so” that is worse than the actual break up. The whole “face the music” part.
The start of the day: Again, pretty self explanatory.
Car-related: 1. The first day behind the wheel is definitely the hardest part of the whole driving experience. 2. Starting the car itself, especially if it’s freezing cold outside, is often the hardest part of the whole “car-running” experience.
And today’s example – and the reason for this blog?
Starting homework on Saturday. I have SO much planning to do for Monday (and well, the next 8 weeks, lets be honest.) Starting that process has been impossible today. I got up, started laundry (not so hard, doesn’t fit the analogy – I love doing laundry), went to Walmart with Erica, ate pizza, watched Elizabethtown (not nearly as bad as everyone says, and possibly the best soundtrack of the year, if the music on the movie is actually on the soundtrack), and now I’m here, still procrastinating. Its like climing a mountain, only I know that even if I do reach the top, going down the other side is going to be really hard too. Possibly cliff-like.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
Monday, February 20, 2006
A little change
Yesterday was a fun day (but Sundays in my life generally are, so this was no big surprise). It was a day of general relaxing after church, and a nice little rest after a fun busy weekend with a friend from home. I also hung out a bit with some people that I don’t normally hang out with. I don’t not like this group, I just generally accept that they’re a bit cooler than me, and we sort of hang out in different circles that just occasionally cross paths (and now I have a whole mathematical explanation of why people cross paths in certain ways thanks to Rob). In any case… different groups are always a bit of an adventure. You never really know what to expect. In fact, I think this was the first time I’ve actually hung out with this particular group without the comfort of my own group to fall back on.
I should probably clarify a few things right about now, because I’m realizing that I’m explaining this group as if they are quite intimidating.. In reality, I know that each person in this group happens to be very nice, and I knew before I agreed to hang out with this group that I wasn’t going to be ostracized and teased or anything. Its just a little change from the ordinary for me. I have a group of really amazing loyal friends who I do almost everything with. Hanging out with a new group means that I’m not necessarily totally in my own comfort zone, which raises certain questions about myself, and my ability to adapt to new group dynamics.
Ok, well the end of the story is that I had a great time, and I’m very thankful for all of my friends, my tight little group, and everyone else that might cross my path along the way…
Now, on my final day off before 9 weeks of practicum, its time for me to catch up on some reading and go over the curriculum I’ll be teaching.
I should probably clarify a few things right about now, because I’m realizing that I’m explaining this group as if they are quite intimidating.. In reality, I know that each person in this group happens to be very nice, and I knew before I agreed to hang out with this group that I wasn’t going to be ostracized and teased or anything. Its just a little change from the ordinary for me. I have a group of really amazing loyal friends who I do almost everything with. Hanging out with a new group means that I’m not necessarily totally in my own comfort zone, which raises certain questions about myself, and my ability to adapt to new group dynamics.
Ok, well the end of the story is that I had a great time, and I’m very thankful for all of my friends, my tight little group, and everyone else that might cross my path along the way…
Now, on my final day off before 9 weeks of practicum, its time for me to catch up on some reading and go over the curriculum I’ll be teaching.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
We think too much
People in general, I mean. Some think more than others, but we're all sort of thinking and analyzing all the time, even if we aren't consciously aware of it.
Here are some examples:
Girls who nobody thinks ever think: “Oh my gosh, like, did he just look at me? Was he looking at me because of my totally cute new haircut, or do I have something in my teeth? Is my make-up absolutely perfect, because if it isn’t, like, its totally the end of the world, and no boys will ever like me… oh, my gosh, is that store having a shoe sale?”
Girls who know they think to much: “That guy would never have looked at me. Or, maybe he was, but it was because this new haircut is so bad. Do I have something in my teeth? Oh, I’m such an idiot. As if he would be looking at me for any other reason. Great. that store is having a sale. Oh well. I can’t afford new shoes anyways. And like it would matter, I don’t need new shoes.”
I’m not going to try and do the inner monologue thing for guys. Guys say girls are complicated, and admittedly we are. But ya’ll are no picnic either. Sometimes I think it would be simpler to just wear signs that would change depending on who we’re talking to. More examples:
To the really intimidating girl in your class who knows everything: “You intimidate me. Please stop talking before I throw up on you because I’m nervous and don’t want to say something that you will immediately correct.”
To the guy who you are sort of interested in but don’t know well at all: “You’re nice. In fact, I like it that we talk sometimes, but honestly I’m afraid of starting something because I’m awkward and pretty much terrified of ruining something right off the bat.”
To the girl who is later dating that guy: “I hate you.”
To the guy when the girl dumps him: “I can’t ask you for coffee, because I’m sure it would come out as “coffee?” and some other mumbling and you would think that I was offering you some, and then I would have to go pour you some.”
To the girl who seems to know the right thing to say in every situation, but is never “interested” in any of the 350 guys who want to marry her: “What is wrong with you? Ok, well whatever, could you please send one of your cast-offs my way?”
Ha ha. Ok, that’s enough. It’s actually pretty fun pretending that you can actually say what you think to everyone you know, but you know you never really can. If everyone said what they thought of everyone else at any given moment hell would break loose. Ok, actually here is what might happen:
To the girl who doesn’t think anyone ever looks at her from the guy across the class: “You sort of intimidate me, but I think you’re really pretty. Do you think maybe…”
To the girl who thinks everyone is always looking at her from me: “Get over yourself. Now, what exercise regime do you use…”
To the guy who all the girls want from me: “Get over yourself. … coffee?...”
Alright, enough role playing for now.
What this ended up being was more an “I wish people would just be more honest and less confusing” sort of thing.
Here are some examples:
Girls who nobody thinks ever think: “Oh my gosh, like, did he just look at me? Was he looking at me because of my totally cute new haircut, or do I have something in my teeth? Is my make-up absolutely perfect, because if it isn’t, like, its totally the end of the world, and no boys will ever like me… oh, my gosh, is that store having a shoe sale?”
Girls who know they think to much: “That guy would never have looked at me. Or, maybe he was, but it was because this new haircut is so bad. Do I have something in my teeth? Oh, I’m such an idiot. As if he would be looking at me for any other reason. Great. that store is having a sale. Oh well. I can’t afford new shoes anyways. And like it would matter, I don’t need new shoes.”
I’m not going to try and do the inner monologue thing for guys. Guys say girls are complicated, and admittedly we are. But ya’ll are no picnic either. Sometimes I think it would be simpler to just wear signs that would change depending on who we’re talking to. More examples:
To the really intimidating girl in your class who knows everything: “You intimidate me. Please stop talking before I throw up on you because I’m nervous and don’t want to say something that you will immediately correct.”
To the guy who you are sort of interested in but don’t know well at all: “You’re nice. In fact, I like it that we talk sometimes, but honestly I’m afraid of starting something because I’m awkward and pretty much terrified of ruining something right off the bat.”
To the girl who is later dating that guy: “I hate you.”
To the guy when the girl dumps him: “I can’t ask you for coffee, because I’m sure it would come out as “coffee?” and some other mumbling and you would think that I was offering you some, and then I would have to go pour you some.”
To the girl who seems to know the right thing to say in every situation, but is never “interested” in any of the 350 guys who want to marry her: “What is wrong with you? Ok, well whatever, could you please send one of your cast-offs my way?”
Ha ha. Ok, that’s enough. It’s actually pretty fun pretending that you can actually say what you think to everyone you know, but you know you never really can. If everyone said what they thought of everyone else at any given moment hell would break loose. Ok, actually here is what might happen:
To the girl who doesn’t think anyone ever looks at her from the guy across the class: “You sort of intimidate me, but I think you’re really pretty. Do you think maybe…”
To the girl who thinks everyone is always looking at her from me: “Get over yourself. Now, what exercise regime do you use…”
To the guy who all the girls want from me: “Get over yourself. … coffee?...”
Alright, enough role playing for now.
What this ended up being was more an “I wish people would just be more honest and less confusing” sort of thing.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Tomorrow...
Tomorrow is Valentines Day.
I had a date (ok, a blind date) on Valentines Day once. I was 18 or 19, and he was a couple years older and a fireman. He showed up at the restaurant with a flower, and then we saw Collateral Damage (Arnold Schwarzenegger). It wasn’t the worst date I’ve ever been on, but nothing ever came of it. I think he moved to Vancouver a couple of weeks later. (Not because of me I hope.) That date was the only semi-romantic thing I’ve ever done on Valentines day.
You know something? I didn’t even hope that I would have someone to spend Valentines with this year. I’ve been busy with school and stuff, and it sort of crept up on me. It’s the first year that I actually didn’t think about it. (until now, that is) That sort of makes me sad. Because if I hope, then I at least have enough faith that something good like that might happen for me. I just realized, though, that I didn’t even hope for that. Have I completely given up on myself? Have I actually reached the point where I am so hopeless that I didn’t even think about a date until the day before?
I suppose now is the time where I slip into self-pity and start whining. So, here it goes… What IS wrong with me? I just don’t really get it.
Ok, that’s all I can come up with. I’m sad again.
I just talked to mom. She said that I shouldn’t be sad, and that I had a good life, and that I was focusing on my career. I don’t want to be a “career woman” on Valentines Day. I at least deserve a “fall back” don’t I? Like a really good guy friend (see previous post for my beliefs on platonic relationships… possible or not?) who will take me out for a movie or something. I want a day when I don’t have to use the “busy-with-school” excuse.
I want to be important to someone. (and sorry, Rosie, you don’t qualify. This time it needs to be someone of the opposite sex…)
I had a date (ok, a blind date) on Valentines Day once. I was 18 or 19, and he was a couple years older and a fireman. He showed up at the restaurant with a flower, and then we saw Collateral Damage (Arnold Schwarzenegger). It wasn’t the worst date I’ve ever been on, but nothing ever came of it. I think he moved to Vancouver a couple of weeks later. (Not because of me I hope.) That date was the only semi-romantic thing I’ve ever done on Valentines day.
You know something? I didn’t even hope that I would have someone to spend Valentines with this year. I’ve been busy with school and stuff, and it sort of crept up on me. It’s the first year that I actually didn’t think about it. (until now, that is) That sort of makes me sad. Because if I hope, then I at least have enough faith that something good like that might happen for me. I just realized, though, that I didn’t even hope for that. Have I completely given up on myself? Have I actually reached the point where I am so hopeless that I didn’t even think about a date until the day before?
I suppose now is the time where I slip into self-pity and start whining. So, here it goes… What IS wrong with me? I just don’t really get it.
Ok, that’s all I can come up with. I’m sad again.
I just talked to mom. She said that I shouldn’t be sad, and that I had a good life, and that I was focusing on my career. I don’t want to be a “career woman” on Valentines Day. I at least deserve a “fall back” don’t I? Like a really good guy friend (see previous post for my beliefs on platonic relationships… possible or not?) who will take me out for a movie or something. I want a day when I don’t have to use the “busy-with-school” excuse.
I want to be important to someone. (and sorry, Rosie, you don’t qualify. This time it needs to be someone of the opposite sex…)
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Oh, I don't know.
I’m listening to “What Sarah Said” by Death Cab for Cutie. Its one of those amazing songs that makes you happy and sad at the same time. Mellow, but beautiful. It makes you brave somehow. I don’t know how to explain it.
I feel like I’ve been floating lately. I don’t know. I’m just in one of those moods I think. Where you don’t know what you really feel. Numb. So much to do, time crunch, as usual, and a complete lack of motivation. Just postponing the inevitable.
Relationships are tricky things. They start of like a dance. You sort of toy with each other, neither one of you wanting to admit to the other that you like the other, because there is a threat that the other does not feel the same way about you that you do about them. So, you make careful steps until one of a few things happens. You end up permanently platonic, one person finally breaks and admits what they want, and then either the other feels the same way, doesn’t know what the heck they think, or does not feel the same way at all. I’m tired of having crushes on people. I’m tired of waiting around. I’m tired of the dance. Its like a competition between insecurities, with the person who is the least insecure finally breaking down and stepping out on a limb. Ideally for me, this would be the guy, considering that my insecurities sometimes seem impossible to overcome. ha ha
I’ve realized something about my parents lately. I’m my mothers daughter. I’ve always thought that I was just like my dad, and I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and I always will be. But recently I’ve realized how hilarious my mom is. She’s totally insane (in a good way) and any insanity and crazy-funn-ness in me is from her. Not that Dad is boring by any means. This is hard to explain. You’d need to know my mom to know what I mean. I’m still opinionated and hard-headed, like dad, but there is so much in me from my mom.
I used to think that I couldn’t be more different from mom. She was the perfect Suzy-housewife, and I’d be lucky to ever get married with my cooking skills. (FYI, I’m actually not bad at cooking, and I know how to clean and do laundry, so I’m not that bad of a catch! ha ha). Mom was always busy being an amazing mom, and I was studying and being a stubborn semi-feminist. Anyways, I always thought that my sister-in-law was much more like my mom than I was, and this bugged me. She, too, is an amazing wife, mother, and homemaker, and it is really intimidating. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately though, for some reason, and this is my conclusion: My mom is a perfect “housewife” but she’s so much more. She’s so … dynamic and amazing. If I’m half the woman my mom is someday… wow.
I’ll always be daddy’s girl, but I’m my mother’s daughter too. It’s a fun thing to realize.
I feel like I’ve been floating lately. I don’t know. I’m just in one of those moods I think. Where you don’t know what you really feel. Numb. So much to do, time crunch, as usual, and a complete lack of motivation. Just postponing the inevitable.
Relationships are tricky things. They start of like a dance. You sort of toy with each other, neither one of you wanting to admit to the other that you like the other, because there is a threat that the other does not feel the same way about you that you do about them. So, you make careful steps until one of a few things happens. You end up permanently platonic, one person finally breaks and admits what they want, and then either the other feels the same way, doesn’t know what the heck they think, or does not feel the same way at all. I’m tired of having crushes on people. I’m tired of waiting around. I’m tired of the dance. Its like a competition between insecurities, with the person who is the least insecure finally breaking down and stepping out on a limb. Ideally for me, this would be the guy, considering that my insecurities sometimes seem impossible to overcome. ha ha
I’ve realized something about my parents lately. I’m my mothers daughter. I’ve always thought that I was just like my dad, and I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and I always will be. But recently I’ve realized how hilarious my mom is. She’s totally insane (in a good way) and any insanity and crazy-funn-ness in me is from her. Not that Dad is boring by any means. This is hard to explain. You’d need to know my mom to know what I mean. I’m still opinionated and hard-headed, like dad, but there is so much in me from my mom.
I used to think that I couldn’t be more different from mom. She was the perfect Suzy-housewife, and I’d be lucky to ever get married with my cooking skills. (FYI, I’m actually not bad at cooking, and I know how to clean and do laundry, so I’m not that bad of a catch! ha ha). Mom was always busy being an amazing mom, and I was studying and being a stubborn semi-feminist. Anyways, I always thought that my sister-in-law was much more like my mom than I was, and this bugged me. She, too, is an amazing wife, mother, and homemaker, and it is really intimidating. I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately though, for some reason, and this is my conclusion: My mom is a perfect “housewife” but she’s so much more. She’s so … dynamic and amazing. If I’m half the woman my mom is someday… wow.
I’ll always be daddy’s girl, but I’m my mother’s daughter too. It’s a fun thing to realize.
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