It was a cool April night. It wasn't a traditionally ass-biting cold night, but one of those nights where you definitely needed a jacket or sweatshirt. The air was moist, in the sense that when you took a breath you could feel the mist crawling into your lungs. It was a cool April night, and that's all that sticks out to me.
It's 8:30. The phone rings, and I figure it's my dad. He's out of town, per the usual so the phone ringing at this time of night is nothing out of the ordinary. I answer. It's Uncle Dave.
"Oh, Boo...you're home."
"Yes, why wouldn't I be? It's a school night."
"Can I talk to your mom?"
Like I said. Nothing out of the ordinary. I bring the phone to my mother and go about my business..which means I go about watching Fight Club on the new television in my room. I get bored of the movie, so I switch it off and go to bed. It's now 8:45.
10 minutes later.
Mom comes in and flips on the light. She says that she needs to speak with me.
"Alexandria,something happened to Frenchy. She had an accident---"
I ponder this for a moment, and think of a response:
"I told her to be careful. Is she okay?"
My mom gave me a look that I will never forget. It was one of sheer empathy....a look that you get when you know you're about to give someone really bad news. I know this look, because I've seen it at work (being in HR these days).
"No, she didn't make it."
I don't know what happened next, and really I remember flashbacks. If I were to tell you the emotions that I experienced at the time, none of it would make sense. Just envision me running out of my room and down the stairs. Hyperventilating because I don't know what else to do. Screaming. Screaming so loud I wake my 14 year old sister up. Everything seemed so irrational. I threw my shoes on and ran down the street. I could hear cries of desperation from outside her house. These are cries that I cannot explain, and when I think of them, it sends shivers down my spine. I didn't go inside. I couldn't.
I get back to my house, and check my phone. 3 missed calls, two texts. Maria. She is on her way over. We don't know what we're going to do when she gets to the house. It all just seemed like a good idea. She gets here and we go to her boyfriend's house. His dad is a Lake County Sheriff, and we're thinking that he might have more information. Although nothing is certain now. All we know is that she's gone.
No news. Nothing new to learn....and we know now for sure that she is gone.
It's April 20, 2005--and I have just experienced my first, real, loss.
When I get home I fall asleep quickly. I blame the exhaustion---most likely stemming from crying. As I sleep I have a very strange dream, and it goes a little something like this:
Frenchy, Maria and I are getting ready for prom. Frenchy is running late per the usual, and really she is nowhere to be found. In my dream I attribute it to her getting ready for prom in the bathroom or something. As we're all ready to go, I see Frenchy standing in the corner of her baby blue room. Dressed to the nine's....looking as radiant as an angel. She stands there quietly, looking at me as if she has something to say.
"Frenchy, let's go, we're going to be late.."
"Alex, you go and have fun. I can't stay here...."
"What are you talking about. Stop being weird, we have to go."
"You don't understand, I can't stay here, but I'll be with you always in your dreams"
With that, she disappeared.
In the months following the funeral, the accident itself--I would have dreams of her and she would always say the same thing:
"You don't understand, I cannot stay here...but I will always be with you in your dreams."
As time passed, I put energy into fixing those who were grieving for her. If that meant doing hours of homework with her little brother or going for long car rides with her boyfriend---then that is what I was going to do in order to help those individuals cope. I am not sure that I ever coped. I am not even sure I would know how to begin coping now. It's funny how the pain sort of dulls after awhile. It dulls, but it's never fully gone. Much like what I am feeling in regards to He Who Must Not Be Named.
Sometimes on my way to work, I think about how things would have been if she were still here. We would have gone to prom, which was three days after the accident. We would have gone to ISU, and roomed together. She would have become a teacher, like I did. Or would she? I don't know what would have happened, but I'd like to think that she would have made the most of her talents, because she was probably one of the most beautiful people I know.
I suppose I write about this now, because through this hard time, I have been asking her to be with me--because feeling like she is at my back makes coping a bit easier. As I drove home from a personal training session today (which I felt worse after going than I did before I went--but that is a story for another day) I thought about what she would think of me now. Would she be upset with me, because I put so much time and investment into something that really wasn't working when it ended? Would she try and encourage me---and support this endeavor that I am currently undertaking? Would she hug me when I cry? Mostly....
Would she be proud of me?
Would she? I cannot say. I know she would be proud that I am trying to make something of myself. I sometimes feel so alone without her physically here. Then I snap out of it, and know that more than anything in this life I am not alone. Ever. There are so many good people around me....more than I ever really knew I had. I guess I just miss her.....
So here is how I can end this, and I know that it's a short one, and it's going to be a bit cliche. When you lose someone like this---embrace who they were. It might feel sad, it might even feel a bit sick in the head....but the truth of the matter is their time on this Earth, had a very specific purpose. They were meant to be here for a short time, because they made such an impact on the lives of those around them. They say only the good die young, and maybe that's true. Maybe it's bullshit. Maybe it's something we tell ourselves in order to cope with the pain of losing them so unjustly. What I do know, is that I had to grow up very fast....when this happened. I had to go on living. I had to go school (the very day after the accident), I had to graduate, I had to go on living a life that she would approve of. In this life, people come and go. Some by choice, and some--well--some have go because they don't have a choice. In the past 7 years, I've experienced so much. I found a love that I thought would last forever....but I have found that nothing lasts forever.
At the end the day, all we can hope, is that the person we loved and still love so much is watching over us. Laughing at us when we trip on the way to the gym, alerting us when we almost rear end that person because we were texting and driving like we're never supposed to do....and placing their hand on our shoulders when we cry after leaving the gym--because we have become such a disappointment to ourselves. I know and am confident that she is watching over me. There have been too many signs to not believe that she is with me. I just hope she can give me some light in the darkness that I feel at times. She's never failed at letting me know she is with me when I need her most. An angel always at my back....and always with me in my dreams....
A.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
St. Valentine's Day Massacre
Disclaimer--I started writing this on VD and finished it today.
Al Capone. An interesting character of sorts. A man who gave true meaning to the term "Gangster". Which, is hilarious if you think about today's standards and the 'gangsters' that we deal with. Completely different culture. Completely different appearance, meaning and agenda. Either way, back in the days where moonshiners ran rampant in the underground speakeasy taverns of Chicago, Al Capone was king. He had whatever he wanted. Money, women, sex, alcohol, perhaps drugs. He had power. He was even considered somewhat of a 'Modern Day Robin Hood', as he used the money from his indiscretions to make charitable donations on his behalf. Now, I am not sure why I just went on a random tangent about Al Capone, nor do I know how it's going to completely tie into this blog....
Oh, that's right....the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Chicago, 1929. So, Valentine's Day, also known as 'St. Valentine's Day'--is supposedly a religious holiday of sorts. If I had the energy to do my research, I would tell you about the origins of such a holiday---but I am not feeling it today. Long story short, 5 members of a gang (rivaling Capone) were lined up by Capone's cronies dressed as coppers. They were then shot to death with tommy guns. Pretty brutal. Also pretty loud if you think about a tommy gun. Also pretty messy. Either way, it would be hinted that Capone was involved in the murders, but I don't believe he was ever brought up on charges. For the rest of his life, especially towards the end (when he was going crazy as a result of Syphilis) he claimed that the ghost of one of those shot during the massacre. Regardless of that, I do think that I find some humor in the celebration of today--because of the massacre in 1929. Why this day? Why do we celebrate such a holiday? Why do we put so much investment into telling someone we love them on one day? Shouldn't we love someone every single day with everything that we are? I once had a joke with my roommate in college about Al Capone and the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Again, I don't know where I am going with this, and I don't know why I am going on a tangent about V-Day and this massacre. Either way, I got you interested, didn't I?
4 months. 4 months later and here I am. I supposed that a lot has happened, and really when I think about it not much of anything has happened at all. I also suppose that I have taken some kind of steps to make myself feel better, mostly because the truth of it is I am the only one who can make myself happy. I used to think that my happiness rested on the shoulders of the one who supposedly loved me. For a very long time, my happiness did rest on his shoulders. I wish that I could say that the realization that I am the only one who can make myself happy---has changed my outlook on things. It has and it hasn't. While I realize that he cannot affect my life, he still does in numerous ways. Thus, 4 months have come and gone---and I am the same and I am different; I am happy and I am sad. As of this past week, lent has begun. Traditionally, Lent is the time where we give up something we delight in: chocolate, fast food, soda, smoking. This year, I am following in the footsteps of someone very dear to my heart. I'm giving up being sad. You see, I could easily give up any of the above mentioned things. However, it's sadness that has taken over my life. The question that has been posed to me over and over again, is "Why do you care?" Why do I care? I feel like I should have let go by now. Why can't I let go? There is this sense of loneliness that has been creeping into my heart, like the fog from the movie The Mist (yes, I just made that reference). So now I have to channel my efforts and energy into being happy, and not sad. Which should be simple----yet I think the lack of closure that I've been experiencing for the past 4 months has really been pulling at my heart. You see my heart wants closure, but my brain knows that contact with him isn't going to do me any more good than my heart feels it will. So, I have my own little Civil War occurring within my body. I'm not sure which side is going to win.
This week I signed up for a gym--and while I am happy and excited about it, I wish that it could become an addiction that I can't shake. I sometimes feel like the more time I spend alone, the more I would be inspired to go to the gym. Deep down inside I want it to become an obsession. Something I need to do in order to survive. It sounds sick, but I cannot explain or describe the rush I experience from the endorphin(s) released as a result of working out. Right now it's legitimately the only thing that gives me this pure sense of optimism. It's after working out, that I am able to think to myself 'every little thing is gonna be alright.'
So on Valentine's Day, I went to dinner with my dear friend. Honestly, I didn't think of He Who Must Not Be Named one time. There were couples staring hopelessly into each other's eyes, holding hands and eating their meals while sharing a glass of wine. I enjoyed the company of my bestie--and didn't think of him. That is a step in the right direction.
Sidebar---
As I am sitting here, writing, the show Catfish is on. I find it odd that people can put so much investment into online relationships. Why is it so easy to hide behind a computer screen? This is what brings me to the inner workings of online dating. Which, is full of rejection, and judgement in addition to awkward and ballsy communication. Men will contact you with the sickest comments and most ballsy attempts at connecting with you. I think to myself, 'How do you think that you are going to receive a response from what you just said to me?' That, is a topic for another blog....
Well, this one was all over the place....and I hope you were able to follow my thought process. I hope you all had a great Valentine's Day---even though I feel that so much investment should not be placed on one day of love......
A.
Al Capone. An interesting character of sorts. A man who gave true meaning to the term "Gangster". Which, is hilarious if you think about today's standards and the 'gangsters' that we deal with. Completely different culture. Completely different appearance, meaning and agenda. Either way, back in the days where moonshiners ran rampant in the underground speakeasy taverns of Chicago, Al Capone was king. He had whatever he wanted. Money, women, sex, alcohol, perhaps drugs. He had power. He was even considered somewhat of a 'Modern Day Robin Hood', as he used the money from his indiscretions to make charitable donations on his behalf. Now, I am not sure why I just went on a random tangent about Al Capone, nor do I know how it's going to completely tie into this blog....
Oh, that's right....the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, Chicago, 1929. So, Valentine's Day, also known as 'St. Valentine's Day'--is supposedly a religious holiday of sorts. If I had the energy to do my research, I would tell you about the origins of such a holiday---but I am not feeling it today. Long story short, 5 members of a gang (rivaling Capone) were lined up by Capone's cronies dressed as coppers. They were then shot to death with tommy guns. Pretty brutal. Also pretty loud if you think about a tommy gun. Also pretty messy. Either way, it would be hinted that Capone was involved in the murders, but I don't believe he was ever brought up on charges. For the rest of his life, especially towards the end (when he was going crazy as a result of Syphilis) he claimed that the ghost of one of those shot during the massacre. Regardless of that, I do think that I find some humor in the celebration of today--because of the massacre in 1929. Why this day? Why do we celebrate such a holiday? Why do we put so much investment into telling someone we love them on one day? Shouldn't we love someone every single day with everything that we are? I once had a joke with my roommate in college about Al Capone and the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Again, I don't know where I am going with this, and I don't know why I am going on a tangent about V-Day and this massacre. Either way, I got you interested, didn't I?
4 months. 4 months later and here I am. I supposed that a lot has happened, and really when I think about it not much of anything has happened at all. I also suppose that I have taken some kind of steps to make myself feel better, mostly because the truth of it is I am the only one who can make myself happy. I used to think that my happiness rested on the shoulders of the one who supposedly loved me. For a very long time, my happiness did rest on his shoulders. I wish that I could say that the realization that I am the only one who can make myself happy---has changed my outlook on things. It has and it hasn't. While I realize that he cannot affect my life, he still does in numerous ways. Thus, 4 months have come and gone---and I am the same and I am different; I am happy and I am sad. As of this past week, lent has begun. Traditionally, Lent is the time where we give up something we delight in: chocolate, fast food, soda, smoking. This year, I am following in the footsteps of someone very dear to my heart. I'm giving up being sad. You see, I could easily give up any of the above mentioned things. However, it's sadness that has taken over my life. The question that has been posed to me over and over again, is "Why do you care?" Why do I care? I feel like I should have let go by now. Why can't I let go? There is this sense of loneliness that has been creeping into my heart, like the fog from the movie The Mist (yes, I just made that reference). So now I have to channel my efforts and energy into being happy, and not sad. Which should be simple----yet I think the lack of closure that I've been experiencing for the past 4 months has really been pulling at my heart. You see my heart wants closure, but my brain knows that contact with him isn't going to do me any more good than my heart feels it will. So, I have my own little Civil War occurring within my body. I'm not sure which side is going to win.
This week I signed up for a gym--and while I am happy and excited about it, I wish that it could become an addiction that I can't shake. I sometimes feel like the more time I spend alone, the more I would be inspired to go to the gym. Deep down inside I want it to become an obsession. Something I need to do in order to survive. It sounds sick, but I cannot explain or describe the rush I experience from the endorphin(s) released as a result of working out. Right now it's legitimately the only thing that gives me this pure sense of optimism. It's after working out, that I am able to think to myself 'every little thing is gonna be alright.'
So on Valentine's Day, I went to dinner with my dear friend. Honestly, I didn't think of He Who Must Not Be Named one time. There were couples staring hopelessly into each other's eyes, holding hands and eating their meals while sharing a glass of wine. I enjoyed the company of my bestie--and didn't think of him. That is a step in the right direction.
Sidebar---
As I am sitting here, writing, the show Catfish is on. I find it odd that people can put so much investment into online relationships. Why is it so easy to hide behind a computer screen? This is what brings me to the inner workings of online dating. Which, is full of rejection, and judgement in addition to awkward and ballsy communication. Men will contact you with the sickest comments and most ballsy attempts at connecting with you. I think to myself, 'How do you think that you are going to receive a response from what you just said to me?' That, is a topic for another blog....
Well, this one was all over the place....and I hope you were able to follow my thought process. I hope you all had a great Valentine's Day---even though I feel that so much investment should not be placed on one day of love......
A.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Circle of Influence, Circle of Concern
This life is what we make it. Or so we've been told in movies, by our mentors, teachers and parents. Yep, this life IS what we make it. There are many paths we can choose, many experiences to be had---and all that other cliche stuff. I guess the truth behind our own lives, and the control that we have over it, sometimes can be overwhelming. As I continue to find myself in the aftermath of the mess that I've been living in for the past three months, it's been hard to accept that I have control over my own happiness. Despite all of the bad things that have happened, I need to know and believe that I have the power to make myself in other ways. Thus, the Circle of Influence and the Circle of Concern have come into play.
The Circle of Concern-
Often, we spend our time worrying about things outside our circle of influence. These are the things we cannot control. For example we can worry about world hunger, war or even all of the people out there afflicted with illness. However, as awful as these things are--we cannot spend the time worrying about them because we can't control them. We cannot influence them. They exist and will always exist because these are problems that not even the world's smartest person can solve.
The Circle Of Influence:
While it is common to worry about the things we cannot control, there is so much that we don't realize we can control. Don't like the way you look? Change it. Don't like your job? Find a new one. Can't stand your boyfriend? Break up with him. There are so many things that we can't control. Yet there are elements within our life, right before our very eyes--that we can control.
This life is what I make it. Regardless of all the shit that happens, this life is what I make it. I feel a lot of things, and I worry more about the the stuff I cannot control than I do the things I can. I worry that I am going to be alone forever. I know that it's stupid for me to worry about that---and I know that love finds you when you least expect it. I just can't help but feeling lonely in that way. So, I've turned my focus to fitness. It's something that I haven't been able to remain consistent in. I started Crossfit yesterday, and I am hoping that the feeling I experienced after Crossfit turns into an addiction that I can't shake. All I want is to feel better. Feel better about me, feel better about who I am and what I stand for. Maybe once that happens; maybe once I love myself then I can find love.
So, I'm making my life. I can't promise I am always going to feel the happiest--but I can try.
A.
The Circle of Concern-
Often, we spend our time worrying about things outside our circle of influence. These are the things we cannot control. For example we can worry about world hunger, war or even all of the people out there afflicted with illness. However, as awful as these things are--we cannot spend the time worrying about them because we can't control them. We cannot influence them. They exist and will always exist because these are problems that not even the world's smartest person can solve.
The Circle Of Influence:
While it is common to worry about the things we cannot control, there is so much that we don't realize we can control. Don't like the way you look? Change it. Don't like your job? Find a new one. Can't stand your boyfriend? Break up with him. There are so many things that we can't control. Yet there are elements within our life, right before our very eyes--that we can control.
This life is what I make it. Regardless of all the shit that happens, this life is what I make it. I feel a lot of things, and I worry more about the the stuff I cannot control than I do the things I can. I worry that I am going to be alone forever. I know that it's stupid for me to worry about that---and I know that love finds you when you least expect it. I just can't help but feeling lonely in that way. So, I've turned my focus to fitness. It's something that I haven't been able to remain consistent in. I started Crossfit yesterday, and I am hoping that the feeling I experienced after Crossfit turns into an addiction that I can't shake. All I want is to feel better. Feel better about me, feel better about who I am and what I stand for. Maybe once that happens; maybe once I love myself then I can find love.
So, I'm making my life. I can't promise I am always going to feel the happiest--but I can try.
A.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
How to Pine (Verb--not Noun)
Pine. No, not a breakfast table or the floor in your house. Not a tree, your nightstand or that antique cabinet that belonged to your grandmother. Nope. Much like the rest of the words in the English language, Pine is a homonym. A homonym is one of two or more words that are spelled alike, but are different in meaning. As it is, the word Pine, for me has a different meaning. Put simply, when 'Pine' is used as a verb, it means to wither or waste away from longing or grief.
I guess I am perseverating on this word, because it is this term that was used to describe my emotional state last week. I was sitting at my desk, just working...when all of a sudden a book was laid on my desk. I looked up to see his mother (who works for the same company), standing there with a book. The book in question, is actually a book of essays that I am published in. Seeing her is always hard. Mostly because I built a second family with him....and now...that is gone. Six years worth of bonding....gone. Regardless of that, as she stood there, she commented:
"I guess I'm the go between you and him."
I pondered, and said:
"No, you are the go between for him because he made this choice and doesn't care about the choice he has made."
She pondered---
"You're not still pining after him, are you?"
Pining. Think about the word and what it implies. It implies that I sit in my room every single day, pondering the demise of my past relationship.
When something ends, or stops abruptly---it is perfectly normal to feel some sense of shock following the initial impact of the end. It's normal to cry, scream--sit and think. It's normal. However, there comes a time when there is nothing left to think about. Naturally, we then must move forward in order to mitigate the risk of 'pining' after what we have lost.
After much thought about this comment, here is the wisdom I can offer. When you lose something, whether it's voluntary or involuntary--you often risk being broken. As human beings, we're all a bit broken in our own way. Behind every set of eyes is a story to be told. Even the happiest and most carefree person you know has some kind of pain hidden behind their facade. It's called having emotion. It's called being human. I guess through all of this, you would think that I have gained a great deal of wisdom. I am not sure you could say that--I sometimes feel the same way I did three months ago. Then there are these moments, these glimpses of hope where I feel like a new girl. So here is what I know.
It's okay to be broken for a time; to pine (if you will) after what you have lost. For a short time, it's okay. However, there has to come a time, when you pick yourself up off the floor and move on. It's necessary, because if you continue to live your life in a broken state....you will never truly live. Now, I know that this is common sense....but for someone who has been living her life with blinders on for quite some time, this is somewhat of a new epiphany.
So, to answer the question that was posed to me last week. NO, I am not pining after him. I do think of him often, and miss him. However, I'm busy these days picking myself up off the floor---and moving forward with a life that I know was meant to be amazing.
I know I was destined for greatness, and my story doesn't include him.
So here's to a new novel in this series I call life. Let's hope it's not reminiscent of Twilight (ha). I hope you are all busy out there writing meaningful chapters of your own......
A.
I guess I am perseverating on this word, because it is this term that was used to describe my emotional state last week. I was sitting at my desk, just working...when all of a sudden a book was laid on my desk. I looked up to see his mother (who works for the same company), standing there with a book. The book in question, is actually a book of essays that I am published in. Seeing her is always hard. Mostly because I built a second family with him....and now...that is gone. Six years worth of bonding....gone. Regardless of that, as she stood there, she commented:
"I guess I'm the go between you and him."
I pondered, and said:
"No, you are the go between for him because he made this choice and doesn't care about the choice he has made."
She pondered---
"You're not still pining after him, are you?"
Pining. Think about the word and what it implies. It implies that I sit in my room every single day, pondering the demise of my past relationship.
When something ends, or stops abruptly---it is perfectly normal to feel some sense of shock following the initial impact of the end. It's normal to cry, scream--sit and think. It's normal. However, there comes a time when there is nothing left to think about. Naturally, we then must move forward in order to mitigate the risk of 'pining' after what we have lost.
After much thought about this comment, here is the wisdom I can offer. When you lose something, whether it's voluntary or involuntary--you often risk being broken. As human beings, we're all a bit broken in our own way. Behind every set of eyes is a story to be told. Even the happiest and most carefree person you know has some kind of pain hidden behind their facade. It's called having emotion. It's called being human. I guess through all of this, you would think that I have gained a great deal of wisdom. I am not sure you could say that--I sometimes feel the same way I did three months ago. Then there are these moments, these glimpses of hope where I feel like a new girl. So here is what I know.
It's okay to be broken for a time; to pine (if you will) after what you have lost. For a short time, it's okay. However, there has to come a time, when you pick yourself up off the floor and move on. It's necessary, because if you continue to live your life in a broken state....you will never truly live. Now, I know that this is common sense....but for someone who has been living her life with blinders on for quite some time, this is somewhat of a new epiphany.
So, to answer the question that was posed to me last week. NO, I am not pining after him. I do think of him often, and miss him. However, I'm busy these days picking myself up off the floor---and moving forward with a life that I know was meant to be amazing.
I know I was destined for greatness, and my story doesn't include him.
So here's to a new novel in this series I call life. Let's hope it's not reminiscent of Twilight (ha). I hope you are all busy out there writing meaningful chapters of your own......
A.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
What's In a Name?
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet." Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)
Beauty. They say it is in the eye of the beholder, and that is something I firmly believe. From a puppies to babies--beauty is in the eye of the beholder. While I realize that the Shakespeare quote above does not discuss beauty, nor does it have anything to do with beauty--I thought it was proper for a few reasons. For those of you who spark-noted Romeo and Juliet in high school, I will give you a very abbreviated version of this dramatic tale.
Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet are two teenagers that hail from feuding families. The two fall in love, despite the implications their relationship will have on the feud---and in a dramatic, star-crossed ending both die as a result of their intense love for one another. One dagger, and a vial of poison later---two teens are dead.
We all know the story of Romeo and Juliet, and even though it's considered to be one of the greatest stories in history--it definitely teaches it's readers much more than Shakespeare's affinity for figurative language. Regardless of his message, and the hidden lessons that stem from this tale, let's talk about Juliet's rhetorical question.
"What's in a name?"
Juliet asks this after she discovers that Romeo is a Montague. Her statement suggests that a name means nothing. A name does not change who a person is on the inside and outside. Much like the name 'rose' does not change the fact that the flower smells delightful. So, as I was pondering appearances and the emphasis placed on appearance, I asked myself:
"What is beauty?"
Well, beauty can have many classifications. For example, my parents have a Bull Terrier, which many consider ugly. We consider her beautiful. Some parents may think their children are the most beautiful babies on the face of this planet. Rightly and justly so. However, there are times when you see a child, and you have to do the smile and nod "He/she is so cute"...and then when you leave you are like "Dear God, I hope that child is blessed with something later in life." I know that sounds awful, because I am certainly, on no accounts beautiful. However, if there is anything that has been top of mind lately for me, it is the concept of beauty. I believe what has sparked this has been my activity on match.com. I don't know if I have ever taken so many chances---and have had so many rejections. It does't make me sad, because technology is so easy to hide behind. It doesn't make me sad because I haven't met these men--and you never know until you try. This is a big milestone for me. Mostly because, if I wasn't in the right frame of mind I would have given up a long time ago. However, I would be lying if I said that I didn't wish that I looked differently.
You are only as beautiful as you believe you are. In my case, I think that I need to try harder to believe that I am. I am not sure what it will take. I am not sure how to pick my self esteem up.
Regardless of everything I have written here...I feel that today's blog has a weak message. All we can do is know that there are beautiful parts to all of us, and that someone out there somewhere finds us to be the most beautiful person that they have ever met. I'm uncertain of who that person is for me, or for you, or for the neighbor down the street. Perhaps it isn't even the person you're with now--which is a harsh reality to even stomach.
I'm going to stop rambling now....more cohesive thoughts to come later. Inspiration has been weak lately--and I doubt that you all want to read about the same thoughts that have been swimming around in my head.
Next blog is to potentially be about the art of flirting....stay tuned, and of course, stay beautiful.
A.
By any other name would smell as sweet." Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)
Beauty. They say it is in the eye of the beholder, and that is something I firmly believe. From a puppies to babies--beauty is in the eye of the beholder. While I realize that the Shakespeare quote above does not discuss beauty, nor does it have anything to do with beauty--I thought it was proper for a few reasons. For those of you who spark-noted Romeo and Juliet in high school, I will give you a very abbreviated version of this dramatic tale.
Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet are two teenagers that hail from feuding families. The two fall in love, despite the implications their relationship will have on the feud---and in a dramatic, star-crossed ending both die as a result of their intense love for one another. One dagger, and a vial of poison later---two teens are dead.
We all know the story of Romeo and Juliet, and even though it's considered to be one of the greatest stories in history--it definitely teaches it's readers much more than Shakespeare's affinity for figurative language. Regardless of his message, and the hidden lessons that stem from this tale, let's talk about Juliet's rhetorical question.
"What's in a name?"
Juliet asks this after she discovers that Romeo is a Montague. Her statement suggests that a name means nothing. A name does not change who a person is on the inside and outside. Much like the name 'rose' does not change the fact that the flower smells delightful. So, as I was pondering appearances and the emphasis placed on appearance, I asked myself:
"What is beauty?"
Well, beauty can have many classifications. For example, my parents have a Bull Terrier, which many consider ugly. We consider her beautiful. Some parents may think their children are the most beautiful babies on the face of this planet. Rightly and justly so. However, there are times when you see a child, and you have to do the smile and nod "He/she is so cute"...and then when you leave you are like "Dear God, I hope that child is blessed with something later in life." I know that sounds awful, because I am certainly, on no accounts beautiful. However, if there is anything that has been top of mind lately for me, it is the concept of beauty. I believe what has sparked this has been my activity on match.com. I don't know if I have ever taken so many chances---and have had so many rejections. It does't make me sad, because technology is so easy to hide behind. It doesn't make me sad because I haven't met these men--and you never know until you try. This is a big milestone for me. Mostly because, if I wasn't in the right frame of mind I would have given up a long time ago. However, I would be lying if I said that I didn't wish that I looked differently.
You are only as beautiful as you believe you are. In my case, I think that I need to try harder to believe that I am. I am not sure what it will take. I am not sure how to pick my self esteem up.
Regardless of everything I have written here...I feel that today's blog has a weak message. All we can do is know that there are beautiful parts to all of us, and that someone out there somewhere finds us to be the most beautiful person that they have ever met. I'm uncertain of who that person is for me, or for you, or for the neighbor down the street. Perhaps it isn't even the person you're with now--which is a harsh reality to even stomach.
I'm going to stop rambling now....more cohesive thoughts to come later. Inspiration has been weak lately--and I doubt that you all want to read about the same thoughts that have been swimming around in my head.
Next blog is to potentially be about the art of flirting....stay tuned, and of course, stay beautiful.
A.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Standing at a Crossroads
It's vacation time...and while it has been relaxing, I've been left to think for a good majority of the week. This state of thought has definitely left me in somewhat of a strange place. One that is nearly catatonic at times.
So right now I'm standing at a crossroads. There aren't two roads to choose from, like my dear friend Robert Frost once wrote. No. I have to make a conscious decision to either turn a cheek and continue on this path, which is self destructive at its best. I can walk down a different path that leads me to self discovery and improvement. I can just push everything away and let it be.....there are a so many ways I can turn.
So where do I go? Who do I need myself to be?
Here is what I can say about my future.
This girl will be on fire.
A.
So right now I'm standing at a crossroads. There aren't two roads to choose from, like my dear friend Robert Frost once wrote. No. I have to make a conscious decision to either turn a cheek and continue on this path, which is self destructive at its best. I can walk down a different path that leads me to self discovery and improvement. I can just push everything away and let it be.....there are a so many ways I can turn.
So where do I go? Who do I need myself to be?
Here is what I can say about my future.
This girl will be on fire.
A.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
It Was Only Just A Dream
Dreams. There's the 'American Dream' which is the topic of many great novels and plays such as The Great Gatsby and Death of a Salesman. Then there are dreams, meaning aspirations or desires for the future (which I guess could be coupled with the idea of the American Dream). Lastly, there are literal dreams; ones that you have while asleep. While I could spend an entire blog analyzing the American Dream, and the implications its had on our society throughout history; I'm not feeling that today.
They say that dreaming is the mind's way of working things out. So let's evaluate what my mind is trying to work out, shall we?
Last night I had a dream that sort of went like this:
Jimena and I were at work talking---when all of a sudden he who must not be named accompanied with two of his friends showed up. They were leisurely walking around the third floor talking---his two friends ahead of him while he followed. Hat backwards, like always. I sat there in awe as he walked up to Jimena, handed her a cup of Starbucks coffee, and said "She's your problem now." I just looked at him as he walked away---and continued to circle the floor--following his friends.
All of a sudden, we are out of the office, and he who must not be named and I are riding in a horse carriage. He's talking to me, and I am screaming at him---screaming because he doesn't care about what he's done to me. He proceeds to tell me that he has slept with 16 people since he broke up with me. He begins to describe what his first act was like---and I remember a sick feeling coming over me in my dream. I became so distraught that I jumped out of the carriage, and started running. Running full speed, but as I was running, he was just walking normally right beside me. I was yelling at him, telling him I couldn't believe that he was acting that way. I asked him how he could feel nothing. He responds "Oh, I feel something." He just continues walking, and I just keep running.
Then I woke up....I mean there was more to it, like him asking about seeing Monroe....often. In the end, all I know, is that when I woke up---I felt like shit. There's a lot going on right now that I feel like I am in control of. Then there's the emotion behind what I am actually feeling. What am I feeling? Right now, I feel inadequate. I think I am going to cancel my match.com account. Nothing is happening with it, and when I do 'wink' at someone---I can see that they have looked at my profile and move on. Life is all about rejection and acceptance right? I honestly think I am trying so hard, looking for something that I am not ready for. So today, as I close this without much analysis and wisdom---I want you all to know that I truly am in a strange place. I wish I could explain it eloquently, but I think I'm just plain sad.....and that's all I can say for now.
Have a great Saturday night...
A.
They say that dreaming is the mind's way of working things out. So let's evaluate what my mind is trying to work out, shall we?
Last night I had a dream that sort of went like this:
Jimena and I were at work talking---when all of a sudden he who must not be named accompanied with two of his friends showed up. They were leisurely walking around the third floor talking---his two friends ahead of him while he followed. Hat backwards, like always. I sat there in awe as he walked up to Jimena, handed her a cup of Starbucks coffee, and said "She's your problem now." I just looked at him as he walked away---and continued to circle the floor--following his friends.
All of a sudden, we are out of the office, and he who must not be named and I are riding in a horse carriage. He's talking to me, and I am screaming at him---screaming because he doesn't care about what he's done to me. He proceeds to tell me that he has slept with 16 people since he broke up with me. He begins to describe what his first act was like---and I remember a sick feeling coming over me in my dream. I became so distraught that I jumped out of the carriage, and started running. Running full speed, but as I was running, he was just walking normally right beside me. I was yelling at him, telling him I couldn't believe that he was acting that way. I asked him how he could feel nothing. He responds "Oh, I feel something." He just continues walking, and I just keep running.
Then I woke up....I mean there was more to it, like him asking about seeing Monroe....often. In the end, all I know, is that when I woke up---I felt like shit. There's a lot going on right now that I feel like I am in control of. Then there's the emotion behind what I am actually feeling. What am I feeling? Right now, I feel inadequate. I think I am going to cancel my match.com account. Nothing is happening with it, and when I do 'wink' at someone---I can see that they have looked at my profile and move on. Life is all about rejection and acceptance right? I honestly think I am trying so hard, looking for something that I am not ready for. So today, as I close this without much analysis and wisdom---I want you all to know that I truly am in a strange place. I wish I could explain it eloquently, but I think I'm just plain sad.....and that's all I can say for now.
Have a great Saturday night...
A.
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