Well here we are. December 31st. The last day of the year and the last post of "The Year of Living Imperfectly". How to finish? So much pressure. Well actually not. The Hattie of last year would have freaked out over a post like this. The opportunity to say something poignant, meaningful, and perfect would have overwhelmed me and thus I would have said nothing instead of trying and falling short. My conclusion to this year's blog experiment can be stated simply as: it worked.
I am not who I was a year ago. I am still troubled at times with an abnormal amount of anxiety, but I think I can honestly say that I am no longer a perfectionist or at least my perfectionism doesn't inhibit me anymore. I have learned that it really is better to try and fail than to never try at all. I realized I had 28 or 29 years worth of thoughts and emotions that I never voiced before. I had 28 or 29 years of desires and things to try that I was simply terrified to attempt at the risk of appearing foolish or worse...mediocre. This year I can proudly say that I wasn't quiet anymore. I expressed myself in new ways. For the first time I didn't sit on the sidelines. I got out on the field and joined the game. I lived. When I wrote the title of this blog the key word to me was "imperfectly". 365 days later the word from the title that jumps off the page at me is "living"! With the perfectionism broken I feel freedom to finally get on with the living part already!
I talked for over an hour yesterday with some dear friends about blogging. We discussed a lot of different things but one thing I shared was how having an audience was essential for my process because of the vulnerability, but that ultimately I have been writing for myself. The posts in which I found myself while writing conscious of my audience, attempting to appear witty or clever or even admirable, well those posts come off as disingenuous and insincere. The posts where I was most honest and "myself" got the bigger responses. This was a good phenomenon for me. It taught me that all people (my audience) are looking for from me is to be just myself and that who I am is good enough. I have loved having an audience. It is at the same time terrifying and comforting. The most encouraging things that were said to me this past year all had to do with a comment about something I had written. If you belonged to one of those comments, facebook messages, or emails I want to say thank you one more time. I have loved have a caravan of people join me on this journey. Thanks for traveling with me.
In answer to many of your questions, Yes I will continue to write. The year long project accomplished what I had hoped it would so I'm not going to attempt a daily post any longer. And let's be honest, if you needed any evidence that I'm no longer a perfectionist just look at how delinquent I was in my posting the past 3 months vs. the times I missed posts earlier in the year and beat myself up about it. I'm not sure what the blog will look like from here on out. I'm still finding my voice as I continue to find myself so I'm not sure how and if the subject matter may change. I think next week I'll be doing a "best and worst of" the year just to remember the journey and really reflect on how far we've come.
In the meantime I want to leave you with the lyrics from the refrain in a song we sang at the midnight Christmas Eve service this year that had me weeping. It is my prayer, though I think it may have already come true.
"Welcome to the end of your sorrows
Welcome to the end of yourself
Welcome to tomorrow
Where hope lives."
Could it be that I've finally woken up to my tomorrow? Could it really be true that I have left that yesterday and those things of the past actually in the past? I think so. Happy New Year and welcome to a beautiful tomorrow.
Friday, December 31
Sunday, December 19
Full Circle
I fell asleep during It's a Wonderful Life right during the loss of the $8,000. So I woke up this morning to finish it. I must be becoming more of a crier in my old age because I don't ever remember getting so emotional during the final scene when all the townspeople come into the Bailey home dumping their money onto the table. And then Clarence's inscription in Tom Sawyer brought it all home for me in a very real way.
"Dear George:-
Remember no man is a failure who has friends.
Thanks for the wings.
Love,
Clarence"
We're coming close to the end of this "year of living imperfectly" and I think this truth is the perfect explanation of what I have learned this year. At the end of my life the thing I want to speak for me most is not my financial successes or business accomplishments but my relationships...my friends.
"Dear George:-
Remember no man is a failure who has friends.
Thanks for the wings.
Love,
Clarence"
We're coming close to the end of this "year of living imperfectly" and I think this truth is the perfect explanation of what I have learned this year. At the end of my life the thing I want to speak for me most is not my financial successes or business accomplishments but my relationships...my friends.
Saturday, December 18
A Real Life George Bailey
My family loves It's a Wonderful Life. I remember our big Hogan family Christmases while growing up where the movie would be playing in the background and my dad and his siblings would just recite lines. This was during the beginning days of VHS...sidenote: I remember when we got our first VCR; the first movie we ever rented was Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (at least I think it was)...anyway, so I wasn't accustomed to people being so familiar with movies yet. You couldn't rent your favorite movie over and over again, let alone own it, so I considered their knowledge of the movie to be quite impressive. It seems kind of silly now, but I remember thinking it was a big deal. One year an It's a Wonderful Life book was gifted to someone in the family and it was passed around the house over the next few days. It had the script in it and I remember trying to read it so I could start to memorize the lines too.
It's a late night tonight at the Cummings house and since I'm alone and hoping to get cozy and nostalgic during this the week before Christmas, I popped in my copy of the beloved movie. I felt it worth blogging about not because of my fond childhood memories of it, but because of a poignant exchange between the angels at the beginning. At least it's poignant to me in light of recent adversity...
"You sent for me sir."
"Yes Clarence, a man down on Earth needs our help."
"Splendid! Is he sick?"
"No worse... he's discouraged."
No matter how difficult things may get, we mustn't lose heart. Troubles and sickness may befall us but we can stand in spite of them. Discouragement is far worse. Without hope of a future where things can be different, where we can be different, that is indeed far worse.
It's a late night tonight at the Cummings house and since I'm alone and hoping to get cozy and nostalgic during this the week before Christmas, I popped in my copy of the beloved movie. I felt it worth blogging about not because of my fond childhood memories of it, but because of a poignant exchange between the angels at the beginning. At least it's poignant to me in light of recent adversity...
"You sent for me sir."
"Yes Clarence, a man down on Earth needs our help."
"Splendid! Is he sick?"
"No worse... he's discouraged."
No matter how difficult things may get, we mustn't lose heart. Troubles and sickness may befall us but we can stand in spite of them. Discouragement is far worse. Without hope of a future where things can be different, where we can be different, that is indeed far worse.
Saturday, December 11
Just Me and the Computer
I just wrote for an hour and when I clicked "publish post" something strange happened and there was no post. There's an unpublished draft of the post that contains two sentences before the autosave feature became disabled somehow. It was a difficult post to write and ended with me apologizing for how confusing and nonsensical it may have been (what else is new with my posts as of late though). At the end I felt more clear about the issue though and I suppose that's all that matters. I think this is a sign I need to stop using this blog as my online journal as I've been spilling my guts in very non-articulate posts lately. So instead of rewriting the post (even if that were possible) I am simply going to re-post one of my very favorite pictures from this year.
I love my husband and I loved sharing my first karaoke experience on stage with him. We make a pretty good team. I have a few pictures that capture him laughing at me. I love these pictures because I love the rare occassions when I'm able to make him laugh. Life is good.
I love my husband and I loved sharing my first karaoke experience on stage with him. We make a pretty good team. I have a few pictures that capture him laughing at me. I love these pictures because I love the rare occassions when I'm able to make him laugh. Life is good.
Friday, December 10
Firework
Please don't judge me but I'm about to make a slightly embarrassing confession. Katy Perry has a single out right now called "Firework". Perhaps you've heard it. I find it incredibly inspirational. Yes this comes from the same woman who had her break out hit with "I Kissed a Girl". I like Top 40 and a good dance beat behind anything is great. So circa 2004, I'm going to go all xanga on ya and post song lyrics. The high schooler in me is feeling so profound right now. But seriously I wanted to share the lyrics as they really do articulate how I'm feeling. Now just picture me in my car singing along and believing in myself again.
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?
Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you
'Cause there's a spark in you?
You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July
'Cause baby, you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down
You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow
Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it's time, you'll know
It's always been inside of you, you, you
And now it's time to let it through
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?
Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you
'Cause there's a spark in you?
You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July
'Cause baby, you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down
You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow
Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it's time, you'll know
It's always been inside of you, you, you
And now it's time to let it through
Thursday, December 9
The Nicest Rejection I've Ever Heard
I had yet another interview this past Friday which means I've had interviews almost every other Friday for the past month. Interviewing at a school on a Friday causes one unavoidable awkwardness: being necessarily overdressed. Fridays at schools are typically "casual Friday" and not business casual, but like "spirit-wear" casual (you know where you wear your favorite sweatshirt or track jacket with your school's name embroidered on the chest). Though I know "spirit-wear" Friday is upon me, I certainly can't show up not wearing a typical interview ensemble. So there I sit in my neatly pressed duds across from lovely administrators donned in denim and fleece smiling politely and pretending like I don't feel awkward at all.
Judging from the title of this post I'm assuming you've figured out by now that I didn't get the job. But I have to tell you this was one of the most encouraging experiences I've had in the past few months. Thanks to an inside tip from one of my references, I found out I was in the final 3 under consideration. After hearing that I told a lot of people that honestly even if I didn't get the job that I just really needed to hear that. After each interview I have no idea of how I did other than obviously not well enough to land the job. Which in my Debbie Downer little mind starts to assume that I did terribly, which now I'm realizing may not be the case.
I got the "no" call yesterday and hung up feeling better about myself than I did when I started the call. It was a 3-5 minute conversation praising me and my attributes and explaining why I didn't get the job. I hadn't ever had a why accompanying these other rejections and it was incredibly comforting information. The reality is that I was the only external candidate they interviewed and there were multiple internal candidates who were already doing the job I was interviewing for. With it being mid-school year they opted to go with someone who wouldn't require the training that I would. He even mentioned that I should stick with it if this is something I really want to do because if it were summer time they would have really considered me for the position. And then in a stroke of divine intervention he said multiple things that were really encouraging and answered some of the lingering questions that always seem haunt me after a rejection. He said everyone on the interview team was really impressed with me, that I didn't do anything wrong, that they wanted to keep my resume on file if anything opened up, that my references had glowing remarks and the kindest things to say about me. Though I was okay with not getting the job, the rejection phone call made me want to work there.
There was some relief in not getting the job. I would have needed to be there at 6:30am which meant with the commute and getting ready, I would have needed to wake up at 5:00 everyday. That would have meant a radical lifestyle change. The good news is I am pursuing another job that I am really excited about and is closer to the creative world and the work I hope to be doing in the long term. Be praying. I feel like I am very close to settling into my future.
I also really need to thank my two references Drew and Tom. I have applied for numerous jobs since July and have used Drew and Tom over and over again. If anyone has shared in the grueling process of finding a job with me it would be these two. They've answered phone calls, filled out surveys, and spoken my praises enthusiastically with each opportunity. I texted Drew the other day that I hoped to just settle in a job already to spare him the monotony of being my reference. So thank you so much for being my advocates!
Judging from the title of this post I'm assuming you've figured out by now that I didn't get the job. But I have to tell you this was one of the most encouraging experiences I've had in the past few months. Thanks to an inside tip from one of my references, I found out I was in the final 3 under consideration. After hearing that I told a lot of people that honestly even if I didn't get the job that I just really needed to hear that. After each interview I have no idea of how I did other than obviously not well enough to land the job. Which in my Debbie Downer little mind starts to assume that I did terribly, which now I'm realizing may not be the case.
I got the "no" call yesterday and hung up feeling better about myself than I did when I started the call. It was a 3-5 minute conversation praising me and my attributes and explaining why I didn't get the job. I hadn't ever had a why accompanying these other rejections and it was incredibly comforting information. The reality is that I was the only external candidate they interviewed and there were multiple internal candidates who were already doing the job I was interviewing for. With it being mid-school year they opted to go with someone who wouldn't require the training that I would. He even mentioned that I should stick with it if this is something I really want to do because if it were summer time they would have really considered me for the position. And then in a stroke of divine intervention he said multiple things that were really encouraging and answered some of the lingering questions that always seem haunt me after a rejection. He said everyone on the interview team was really impressed with me, that I didn't do anything wrong, that they wanted to keep my resume on file if anything opened up, that my references had glowing remarks and the kindest things to say about me. Though I was okay with not getting the job, the rejection phone call made me want to work there.
There was some relief in not getting the job. I would have needed to be there at 6:30am which meant with the commute and getting ready, I would have needed to wake up at 5:00 everyday. That would have meant a radical lifestyle change. The good news is I am pursuing another job that I am really excited about and is closer to the creative world and the work I hope to be doing in the long term. Be praying. I feel like I am very close to settling into my future.
I also really need to thank my two references Drew and Tom. I have applied for numerous jobs since July and have used Drew and Tom over and over again. If anyone has shared in the grueling process of finding a job with me it would be these two. They've answered phone calls, filled out surveys, and spoken my praises enthusiastically with each opportunity. I texted Drew the other day that I hoped to just settle in a job already to spare him the monotony of being my reference. So thank you so much for being my advocates!
Tuesday, December 7
Ongoing
I hate that I haven't finished strong in this the 4th quarter of this year long project. I just can't seem to muster up the desire to post each day. And yes as much as I've overcome perfectionism, irregular posting still bothers me. Maybe I'm just in a Debbie Downer mood. Today was a rough day and not because anything particularly difficult occurred. I felt like my old sick self. It felt/feels more like an episode or attack as opposed to just an undercurrent of anxiety though. It really caught me off guard. I still am not sure what I'm feeling anxious about. I sat and prayed and journaled to try and confront what was/is behind all of my tension and irritability. I can't put my finger on anything specifically. Maybe it's just a culmination of a bunch of little things. Maybe I just hit a wall in the midst of this ongoing season of uncertainty. I think the reason I'm documenting my feelings today is just to see that it's 12 months since I started this thing and bad days still come and go. There have been many fewer bad days than there used to be, but like many struggles, anxiety may be something that for me is managed as opposed to eradicated completely. Here's to a new day tomorrow.
Saturday, December 4
How Girls Love
I wrote about Libby from Don't Waste Your Cancer a while back and have continued to follow her story. You should too. Well I hadn't seen this video back from September until just now. A bunch of her young friends decided that since Libby had to cut off her gorgeous hair as preparation for chemo, that they would cut theirs off too. There is something about a girl's hair that is really important to her, so most women, especially those who prize their longer locks, can understand what a sacrifice it feels like to chop it all off.
Ladies, if you're ready for a cry then watch the video. These are some loyal young ladies who have learned how to love fiercely in a way only women can. I wonder who they learned it from. I have a pretty good idea though :)
Ladies, if you're ready for a cry then watch the video. These are some loyal young ladies who have learned how to love fiercely in a way only women can. I wonder who they learned it from. I have a pretty good idea though :)
Tuesday, November 30
A State Championship and an Identity Crisis
This post (and more importantly real life crisis) has been a long time coming, but was made even more clear by an incident this past weekend. The school I do Young Life at was having an incredible season of football and during each playoff game I was there rooting them on just hoping we would "make it to the dome" (our state game is held every year in the St. Louis Ram's Edward Jones Dome indoor stadium). Young Life leaders pray for opportunities like this since it is a contact work ministry dream. You get such great quality time with your kids with the 4 hour car ride there, an overnight with the potential for shared meals, shopping excursions, and all sorts of adventures. It's like taking a fall trip with your kids without having to plan anything.
Well the Titans were headed to the dome and I had already asked off work in preparation, which is no easy feat to get off on Black Friday when you work in retail. I eagerly began making plans to fill my car and head to St. Louis. As the days ticked closer I still hadn't found any girls who hadn't already made plans. It was Thanksgiving night and caravans were leaving the next morning and my car was still empty. I was beyond bummed.
During a tearful discussion with Daniel I lamented about the state of my relationships with YL kids. I have been really encouraged by the progress I'm making with younger girls especially. Most of them however were cheering or dancing at the game and would be taking the bus to St. Louis. The senior girls who I've been working with since their freshman year though are another story. Losing momentum with some kids after 4 years is typical, but the reverse is also true. The hope is that after that long some of these kids at least have begun to turn into actual friends. Daniel had this with his guys that graduated last year. We held our annual Turkey Bowl last week where kids and alumni come bowl with friends and YL leaders. Our typical turn out is 75-100. This year, not including Daniel's graduated guys, we had 10. Daniel had almost as many alumni show up as we had current kids attend. Those guys love him, are loyal to him, and miss him while they're away at school. I have a few senior girls who I am close to, but I fear many of my other relationships will slowly fade away completely over the coming years. That makes me sad...not angry or disappointed. I still love those girls very much and don't put expectations on our relationship. I'm not asking anything of them. I'm simply sad that there is distance between us that wasn't there before.
Here's where this post/truth gets difficult to share. In YL leader training it's hammered into your head that you are here to give to the kids. Unlike other things or people in their life we have the freedom to not ask anything from them like say a teacher or coach would since they are in a different setting. If a kid stands you up, you turn the other cheek so to speak. Sometimes after they graduate, a friendship develops and a different dynamic occurs as it would with your peers. However while kids are inside of YL they are free from expectation, as it should be. You wouldn't go to Africa as a missionary and start requiring the people to reciprocate your efforts. After 10 straight years of leading, this football game was perhaps the first time I really acknowledged the natural human side of me as opposed to the selfless YL leader. It was good for me and brought to light some things I was trying to pretend weren't true.
I let myself admit that not having anyone want to ride with me made me feel unpopular and unneeded. Instead of defending the occurrance as a "rebuilding year", I admitted out loud to Daniel that I often feel like if I wasn't at a sporting event, kids wouldn't notice or care that I wasn't there. And that is a humbling place to be. This is where the YL leader stays effective though. We go anyway. We continue to show up for kids over and over even when they don't notice or don't care. We stay constant despite their reaction (or lack of a reaction). And we do this because this is what God does for us. He is faithful in spite of our faithlessness.
So I went to St. Louis the next day. I made the drive alone. I went to the dome alone. I bought a ticket for one and walked into the student section. There was one particular row full of girls who I knew and sure enough there was one, exactly one, open seat waiting for me. The night was good. Really fun actually. Nothing super profound. This isn't one of those inspiring stories of "I went even though it was hard and wouldn't you know God really showed up in a big way". Sorry. But a great experience to share with kids, an exciting game, and a celebration of becoming state champs. But that's not the end of the story for me.
Where to start? Part of my delay in writing this is my failure to articulate what exactly is happening in me. As good as life is right now and as healthy as I feel most of the time, I have a cloud of confusion that has set up camp around me. When people ask how I'm doing the conversation ends with me describing my state of confusion as to what the hell I'm supposed to be doing right now. I know the job I want and in time should be able to have it. But right now I need a job where I can make (and this is hilarious) 4 figures...as in more than $600 a month. So I keep looking for jobs and am still unable to find one. I keep asking God what I'm supposed to be doing and continue to hear nothing. I am trying to be faithful with the little I have in hopes that he will trust me with more responsibility. Nothing yet.
How does the YL piece fit into this? Well I've been humbled immensely this year. I sense God stripping away all the parts of my life where I found my affirmation, confidence, and identity. At the heart of this blog project was my attempt to get out of my performance based identity and rest in who I am as opposed to what I do. My career was the first piece to go. I needed to see who was left after removing a specific title. Now when I meet new people I can't answer the question, "What do you do?" Instead I am left with introducing myself as simply what type of person I am. This is good.
The next "crutch" to go was my relationships. I love my husband very much, but this year of change and my lack of health has been incredibly difficult on our marriage. I have amazing friends and so many girlfriends I can (and have) called in times of despair. But at the end of the day, we still have to go through a lot of harships alone as we have a hard time understanding what it's like to be in another person's shoes. I am lonely sometimes, but this is okay as I discover who I am without the sense of being needed by others.
Now the YL "crutch". The affirmation I was receiving from high school kids as a Young Life leader was perhaps more important to me than I'd like to admit. Walking into a group of high schoolers is easy for me because I'm 29, have already been through the perils of high school and college, and have seen the Homecoming Queen years after her crowning. I'm not intimidated. Kids are attracted to confidence, not arrogance, but humble confidence. While many of them are panicked about what they're wearing, worried about their social status, and just generally insecure, a confident adult who is completely him or herself stands in stark contrast to them and many of their friends. One of the best YL leaders I know is not a college kid who is wearing trendy clothing and always knows the coolest music before anyone else. Rather he is in his 50's, is an attorney, and plays Amazing Love at YL club as opposed to the latest song. He knows who he is and is completely okay with it. He doesn't try to be anything else. He's not trying to be just like them, because he knows kids aren't looking for another cool person to hang out with. They already have plenty of friends. They're looking for someone who is going to offer them something more. This is how Daniel and I have tried to do YL over the years. I don't try to be cool or say things to make kids like me. Instead I am just Hattie and offer them acceptance, kindness, and hopefully the truth that God is in love with them. And for the most part, kids have responded. Ministry has gone well over the past decade.
But something about this past weekend and the lack of kids coming to YL this semester has been too much for me to take. Maybe it's because I'm feeling stripped of every other source of affirmation and this was the only thing that was left. Why for the first time in 10 years did having an empty car feel like such rejection? Why did it bother me more this time than any other? I'm not looking for kids to tell me I'm cool, but I think I was looking for them to tell me I matter. That what I'm doing is important. That I'm needed. In YL training we were taught those are some of the questions we help answer for kids. We tell them that they matter, that they are important, that they are noticed. And here I have been looking to them to give me these answers. A role they were never meant to play. This weekend I felt God using the empty car incident perhaps to break me of this. It's okay for me to ask those questions, but I should be looking to him for the answers, not 16 year-olds. Though most of my intentions with being a YL leader are selfless, there is an element of it that is me performing once again and proving how successful I can be. Since I'm feeling very unsuccessful in ministry right now, it's another place that's made me question my worth. Evidence that an unhealthy amount of my identity is wrapped up in it.
I saw a blurp on facebook from a friend Steve who I really respect that I think may explain the process God has me in. "...significant times of spiritual growth in my life were preceded by intense confusion and doubt. The confusion and doubt seemed to shake me loose from immature or unhealthy places I was in and opened me to new growth." His friend replied, "I think there are times when the god we think we know has to betray us so we can come to know the God that is. In other words we have all crafted a version of God that must be unlearned to some degree." I've made gods out of my job, relationships, and affirmation from YL. My god is performance. I'm not sure what my version of the real God is in the midst of all my self-centeredness, but I'm starting to unlearn my view of my own gods at least.
I've wanted to break this performance based junk for awhile now. My crutches that were propping up my view of my self have fallen. If I'm going to stand up again, it's going to have to be based on God's view of who I am and not what I can do. I'm grateful to be in this place of humility because I feel like I'm really encountering the root of my issues instead of wading through the surface-y symptoms. I feel like I'm at the basement level, the core, the center of my unhealthy thinking from which my behavior stems. It took a while to get here and I'm not sure how I'm going to move forward, but at least I feel like I'm staring myself in the face with a slightly clearer picture of what is left of me with all these things stripped away.
This certainly was a long post, though I think I wrote it for myself as opposed to share with an audience. If you've read this far, thanks for joining me on my journey :)
Well the Titans were headed to the dome and I had already asked off work in preparation, which is no easy feat to get off on Black Friday when you work in retail. I eagerly began making plans to fill my car and head to St. Louis. As the days ticked closer I still hadn't found any girls who hadn't already made plans. It was Thanksgiving night and caravans were leaving the next morning and my car was still empty. I was beyond bummed.
During a tearful discussion with Daniel I lamented about the state of my relationships with YL kids. I have been really encouraged by the progress I'm making with younger girls especially. Most of them however were cheering or dancing at the game and would be taking the bus to St. Louis. The senior girls who I've been working with since their freshman year though are another story. Losing momentum with some kids after 4 years is typical, but the reverse is also true. The hope is that after that long some of these kids at least have begun to turn into actual friends. Daniel had this with his guys that graduated last year. We held our annual Turkey Bowl last week where kids and alumni come bowl with friends and YL leaders. Our typical turn out is 75-100. This year, not including Daniel's graduated guys, we had 10. Daniel had almost as many alumni show up as we had current kids attend. Those guys love him, are loyal to him, and miss him while they're away at school. I have a few senior girls who I am close to, but I fear many of my other relationships will slowly fade away completely over the coming years. That makes me sad...not angry or disappointed. I still love those girls very much and don't put expectations on our relationship. I'm not asking anything of them. I'm simply sad that there is distance between us that wasn't there before.
Here's where this post/truth gets difficult to share. In YL leader training it's hammered into your head that you are here to give to the kids. Unlike other things or people in their life we have the freedom to not ask anything from them like say a teacher or coach would since they are in a different setting. If a kid stands you up, you turn the other cheek so to speak. Sometimes after they graduate, a friendship develops and a different dynamic occurs as it would with your peers. However while kids are inside of YL they are free from expectation, as it should be. You wouldn't go to Africa as a missionary and start requiring the people to reciprocate your efforts. After 10 straight years of leading, this football game was perhaps the first time I really acknowledged the natural human side of me as opposed to the selfless YL leader. It was good for me and brought to light some things I was trying to pretend weren't true.
I let myself admit that not having anyone want to ride with me made me feel unpopular and unneeded. Instead of defending the occurrance as a "rebuilding year", I admitted out loud to Daniel that I often feel like if I wasn't at a sporting event, kids wouldn't notice or care that I wasn't there. And that is a humbling place to be. This is where the YL leader stays effective though. We go anyway. We continue to show up for kids over and over even when they don't notice or don't care. We stay constant despite their reaction (or lack of a reaction). And we do this because this is what God does for us. He is faithful in spite of our faithlessness.
So I went to St. Louis the next day. I made the drive alone. I went to the dome alone. I bought a ticket for one and walked into the student section. There was one particular row full of girls who I knew and sure enough there was one, exactly one, open seat waiting for me. The night was good. Really fun actually. Nothing super profound. This isn't one of those inspiring stories of "I went even though it was hard and wouldn't you know God really showed up in a big way". Sorry. But a great experience to share with kids, an exciting game, and a celebration of becoming state champs. But that's not the end of the story for me.
Where to start? Part of my delay in writing this is my failure to articulate what exactly is happening in me. As good as life is right now and as healthy as I feel most of the time, I have a cloud of confusion that has set up camp around me. When people ask how I'm doing the conversation ends with me describing my state of confusion as to what the hell I'm supposed to be doing right now. I know the job I want and in time should be able to have it. But right now I need a job where I can make (and this is hilarious) 4 figures...as in more than $600 a month. So I keep looking for jobs and am still unable to find one. I keep asking God what I'm supposed to be doing and continue to hear nothing. I am trying to be faithful with the little I have in hopes that he will trust me with more responsibility. Nothing yet.
How does the YL piece fit into this? Well I've been humbled immensely this year. I sense God stripping away all the parts of my life where I found my affirmation, confidence, and identity. At the heart of this blog project was my attempt to get out of my performance based identity and rest in who I am as opposed to what I do. My career was the first piece to go. I needed to see who was left after removing a specific title. Now when I meet new people I can't answer the question, "What do you do?" Instead I am left with introducing myself as simply what type of person I am. This is good.
The next "crutch" to go was my relationships. I love my husband very much, but this year of change and my lack of health has been incredibly difficult on our marriage. I have amazing friends and so many girlfriends I can (and have) called in times of despair. But at the end of the day, we still have to go through a lot of harships alone as we have a hard time understanding what it's like to be in another person's shoes. I am lonely sometimes, but this is okay as I discover who I am without the sense of being needed by others.
Now the YL "crutch". The affirmation I was receiving from high school kids as a Young Life leader was perhaps more important to me than I'd like to admit. Walking into a group of high schoolers is easy for me because I'm 29, have already been through the perils of high school and college, and have seen the Homecoming Queen years after her crowning. I'm not intimidated. Kids are attracted to confidence, not arrogance, but humble confidence. While many of them are panicked about what they're wearing, worried about their social status, and just generally insecure, a confident adult who is completely him or herself stands in stark contrast to them and many of their friends. One of the best YL leaders I know is not a college kid who is wearing trendy clothing and always knows the coolest music before anyone else. Rather he is in his 50's, is an attorney, and plays Amazing Love at YL club as opposed to the latest song. He knows who he is and is completely okay with it. He doesn't try to be anything else. He's not trying to be just like them, because he knows kids aren't looking for another cool person to hang out with. They already have plenty of friends. They're looking for someone who is going to offer them something more. This is how Daniel and I have tried to do YL over the years. I don't try to be cool or say things to make kids like me. Instead I am just Hattie and offer them acceptance, kindness, and hopefully the truth that God is in love with them. And for the most part, kids have responded. Ministry has gone well over the past decade.
But something about this past weekend and the lack of kids coming to YL this semester has been too much for me to take. Maybe it's because I'm feeling stripped of every other source of affirmation and this was the only thing that was left. Why for the first time in 10 years did having an empty car feel like such rejection? Why did it bother me more this time than any other? I'm not looking for kids to tell me I'm cool, but I think I was looking for them to tell me I matter. That what I'm doing is important. That I'm needed. In YL training we were taught those are some of the questions we help answer for kids. We tell them that they matter, that they are important, that they are noticed. And here I have been looking to them to give me these answers. A role they were never meant to play. This weekend I felt God using the empty car incident perhaps to break me of this. It's okay for me to ask those questions, but I should be looking to him for the answers, not 16 year-olds. Though most of my intentions with being a YL leader are selfless, there is an element of it that is me performing once again and proving how successful I can be. Since I'm feeling very unsuccessful in ministry right now, it's another place that's made me question my worth. Evidence that an unhealthy amount of my identity is wrapped up in it.
I saw a blurp on facebook from a friend Steve who I really respect that I think may explain the process God has me in. "...significant times of spiritual growth in my life were preceded by intense confusion and doubt. The confusion and doubt seemed to shake me loose from immature or unhealthy places I was in and opened me to new growth." His friend replied, "I think there are times when the god we think we know has to betray us so we can come to know the God that is. In other words we have all crafted a version of God that must be unlearned to some degree." I've made gods out of my job, relationships, and affirmation from YL. My god is performance. I'm not sure what my version of the real God is in the midst of all my self-centeredness, but I'm starting to unlearn my view of my own gods at least.
I've wanted to break this performance based junk for awhile now. My crutches that were propping up my view of my self have fallen. If I'm going to stand up again, it's going to have to be based on God's view of who I am and not what I can do. I'm grateful to be in this place of humility because I feel like I'm really encountering the root of my issues instead of wading through the surface-y symptoms. I feel like I'm at the basement level, the core, the center of my unhealthy thinking from which my behavior stems. It took a while to get here and I'm not sure how I'm going to move forward, but at least I feel like I'm staring myself in the face with a slightly clearer picture of what is left of me with all these things stripped away.
This certainly was a long post, though I think I wrote it for myself as opposed to share with an audience. If you've read this far, thanks for joining me on my journey :)
Wednesday, November 24
Blog Slacking, Rejection, and the Job Search
At Monday night girls night I was wearing my glitter flats and was surprised when someone asked, "Are those the infamous glitter flats you blogged about?" After a self-indulgent venting session about the woes of the quote unquote f*@#$&% glitter flats, I realized two girls were reading the blog that I was unaware of. Validation through cyberspace never gets old. So after a text from Christy, a facebook message from Bonnie, and a comment from Kaitlin about her Google reader being a little empty, I'm mustering the strength to post again after my recent bout of laziness.
"So what's the happs?" you ask. Oh... just not landing a job. A month ago I interviewed for a job at an elementary school (thanks to the help of a wonderful YL parent). After reading the title of this post, you obviously know I didn't get the job. The mature part of me wants to trust that God has something else in store for me while the part of me bent on low self-esteem wonders what I said or didn't say in my interview enabling me to land the job. What's wrong with me that they don't deem me capable of supervising the cafeteria and playground? Am I not worthy to referee games of kickball or mediate food fights? Of course I know this isn't true; I'm just being honest about the thoughts of self-doubt that come with rejection. I sat in another interview a few weeks later for a secretarial position that carried much more responsibility with it than the elementary school position did. And I felt great. I went in there and did my best. I felt confident and proud of myself. No lasting trace of rejection from the week before.
However despite my renewed self confidence, the job search continues. I'm more confused than anything as to what my path is. I have two wonderful jobs already. I just need 40 hours of work each week. My boss at the wedding firm is really, really great and I am so excited for the time when I can work there full time. But I'm not there yet and I'm not sure what to do to earn a living in the meantime. That being said we have been extremely blessed by family and friends and Jesus during this time of reduced income. We aren't going hungry. In fact last night we enjoyed a home cooked dinner prepared by a YL parent. Enchiladas...our favorite dish she makes! A generous gesture that meant a lot to both of us. We may be a little stressed, but more annoyed by the fact that I can't buy as many clothes as I'd like. I also know that this can't keep up forever though and I'd like to contribute to my family (and society). In the meantime life is still good.
"So what's the happs?" you ask. Oh... just not landing a job. A month ago I interviewed for a job at an elementary school (thanks to the help of a wonderful YL parent). After reading the title of this post, you obviously know I didn't get the job. The mature part of me wants to trust that God has something else in store for me while the part of me bent on low self-esteem wonders what I said or didn't say in my interview enabling me to land the job. What's wrong with me that they don't deem me capable of supervising the cafeteria and playground? Am I not worthy to referee games of kickball or mediate food fights? Of course I know this isn't true; I'm just being honest about the thoughts of self-doubt that come with rejection. I sat in another interview a few weeks later for a secretarial position that carried much more responsibility with it than the elementary school position did. And I felt great. I went in there and did my best. I felt confident and proud of myself. No lasting trace of rejection from the week before.
However despite my renewed self confidence, the job search continues. I'm more confused than anything as to what my path is. I have two wonderful jobs already. I just need 40 hours of work each week. My boss at the wedding firm is really, really great and I am so excited for the time when I can work there full time. But I'm not there yet and I'm not sure what to do to earn a living in the meantime. That being said we have been extremely blessed by family and friends and Jesus during this time of reduced income. We aren't going hungry. In fact last night we enjoyed a home cooked dinner prepared by a YL parent. Enchiladas...our favorite dish she makes! A generous gesture that meant a lot to both of us. We may be a little stressed, but more annoyed by the fact that I can't buy as many clothes as I'd like. I also know that this can't keep up forever though and I'd like to contribute to my family (and society). In the meantime life is still good.
Saturday, November 6
Loving Like You Have Cancer
Whenever someone begins following my blog I look at what other blogs they read since we probably have similar taste. Thus I stumbled across an incredible story of a new mom diagnosed with cancer. (Thanks Randi.) I think the word "cancer" jumps off the page whenever I see it now since last October, so when I saw the title of the blog "Don't Waste Your Cancer" I clicked on the link immediately. After reading the introduction I went back to the first entry in order to read the story from its start.
Libby Ryder's story hits a little too close to home. She's in her mid 20's and she and her husband are "Young Life people". He's a area director in Virginia. They have a little daughter who is only a few months old. In July Libby was diagnosed with Lymphoma. Cancer always seems like a tragedy. No one ever deserves it, but it seems more cruel in certain stories like a brain tumor in a three year old or lymphoma in a 26 year old new mom. Libby's story is a compelling read and she never comes across as a victim despite the cruelty of her situation. I love reading because home-girl is honest, like really honest. Her faith is evident in each entry and it's authentic. None of the sugar-coated, cliche things people say to you when they're on the outside of cancer trying to make you feel better. She's honest that cancer sucks, but that God is still good. She's honest about her belief that God is in control even when we can't understand his ways and at the same time that cancer is painful and she gets lonely and sad sometimes. And that's okay.
There's a million reasons why I admire her and respect her, but the thing that is challenging and encouraging me is her relationship with her husband. Man they really love each other. And not love like just feeling affection for each other, but the important love. The doing love. Love as an action. I'm learning in my life that I can feel love for Daniel and that's great, but if that feeling never manifests itself in my behavior it doesn't really mean much. If I'm not treating him like he's important to me, making sacrifices where I need to, or growing as a teammate. Daniel is an awesome partner, but I'm embarrassed to say that I haven't been the most loving teammate I can be.
Libby and her husband love well. In the midst of cancer she continues to make him a priority never expecting him to be at her beck and call. Though when he does come home from work early and care for her in different ways, she accepts it gracefully and gratefully. And he writes her letters on her blog. He speaks of being humbled by her strength. And she's the first to say that they're not perfect. Her honesty about that is perhaps the most encouraging because it means you can fight with each other or not get along at all times, and STILL love each other well.
When I was reading months worth of entries in a single sitting I found myself so inspired that part of me was foolishly wishing for cancer. I envied their perspective and passion gained from this earth shattering event. But my family has been there before and then I remembered how I never want to go through that initial shock again. Then I felt guilty for forgetting how grateful I should be and how I've begun to take things for granted again and become consumed by pettiness. It shouldn't take something like cancer to make me grateful for my life, family, and my husband. I shouldn't have to get sick to realize how wonderful Daniel is and to start living in that reality. I want to stop taking him and his love for granted. Even though the stakes aren't as high as they would be in the face of cancer, I want to live like they are. I want to love like I have cancer. I want to love like Libby does.
You can follow her inspiring journey here.
Libby Ryder's story hits a little too close to home. She's in her mid 20's and she and her husband are "Young Life people". He's a area director in Virginia. They have a little daughter who is only a few months old. In July Libby was diagnosed with Lymphoma. Cancer always seems like a tragedy. No one ever deserves it, but it seems more cruel in certain stories like a brain tumor in a three year old or lymphoma in a 26 year old new mom. Libby's story is a compelling read and she never comes across as a victim despite the cruelty of her situation. I love reading because home-girl is honest, like really honest. Her faith is evident in each entry and it's authentic. None of the sugar-coated, cliche things people say to you when they're on the outside of cancer trying to make you feel better. She's honest that cancer sucks, but that God is still good. She's honest about her belief that God is in control even when we can't understand his ways and at the same time that cancer is painful and she gets lonely and sad sometimes. And that's okay.
There's a million reasons why I admire her and respect her, but the thing that is challenging and encouraging me is her relationship with her husband. Man they really love each other. And not love like just feeling affection for each other, but the important love. The doing love. Love as an action. I'm learning in my life that I can feel love for Daniel and that's great, but if that feeling never manifests itself in my behavior it doesn't really mean much. If I'm not treating him like he's important to me, making sacrifices where I need to, or growing as a teammate. Daniel is an awesome partner, but I'm embarrassed to say that I haven't been the most loving teammate I can be.
Libby and her husband love well. In the midst of cancer she continues to make him a priority never expecting him to be at her beck and call. Though when he does come home from work early and care for her in different ways, she accepts it gracefully and gratefully. And he writes her letters on her blog. He speaks of being humbled by her strength. And she's the first to say that they're not perfect. Her honesty about that is perhaps the most encouraging because it means you can fight with each other or not get along at all times, and STILL love each other well.
When I was reading months worth of entries in a single sitting I found myself so inspired that part of me was foolishly wishing for cancer. I envied their perspective and passion gained from this earth shattering event. But my family has been there before and then I remembered how I never want to go through that initial shock again. Then I felt guilty for forgetting how grateful I should be and how I've begun to take things for granted again and become consumed by pettiness. It shouldn't take something like cancer to make me grateful for my life, family, and my husband. I shouldn't have to get sick to realize how wonderful Daniel is and to start living in that reality. I want to stop taking him and his love for granted. Even though the stakes aren't as high as they would be in the face of cancer, I want to live like they are. I want to love like I have cancer. I want to love like Libby does.
You can follow her inspiring journey here.
Oops
Penny sure is cute when she gets her haircut. However her groomer struggles a little. In order to save money on her frequent haircuts, her groomer is her dog-mom (i.e. me). This may have been the roughest cut I've ever given her. Item to add to the failure list: dog grooming. Please check out the pics below to observe one of her bald spots where I cut a little too close. She has about five of these bald spots total. Oops.
A Terrible Question
During a job interview last Friday one of the questions was, "Where do you see yourself in 10 years?" Five years would have been hard to answer and he's asking me about 10 years from now! I think my answer was something about doing weddings full time, have a few kids, and hopefully still be married. The still married comment made him laugh and he continued the joke so that was good that something positive came out of my awkward fumbling for an answer to a question I have no idea how to answer.
I haven't been in a place like this since my freshman year of college. It was my sophomore year that I decided I wanted to go on Young Life staff, so the three remaining years of school were spent wondering what area I would work for and who I would marry. These felt like major question marks back then, but I could have answered where I'd like to be in five years at least.
Since being called away from Young Life staff in January I have yet to figure out what I'm called into instead. Yes I'm pursuing event planning and LOVE working for the wedding coordination firm. I could see myself doing that for five years and possibly 10, but I'm not sure. Each wedding I've assisted on has been nothing but awesome and energizing, but I'm not even full time. What if in two years I'm doing it full time and decide maybe it's not for me? I think I'm fine with this possibility. I think I'm fine with these next few years being a question mark and a time of exploration of trying out different jobs. But some days I'm not fine with it. Part of me feels like my time is valuable and I should be using this time to build my resume and collect experiences and education that will qualify me and prepare me for my career. But for what career? Weddings? What if that doesn't work out? I have this fear that I'm going to be 35 when I decide what I really want to do only to find myself under qualified or behind everyone else applying for the same position who has been spending their time racking up the degrees and internships and work experience. Do I really have the freedom to explore and experiment during this season? Wasn't I supposed to be doing that during college?
I see this obligation to ambition come out when I'm coming up with answers to interview questions. I'm not sure future employers want to hear me answer the "what are you doing in 10 years" question with "I'm not sure". I don't think they want to hear that I'm just pursuing a job with them in order to earn an income. They want to hear that I am committing to them. That I'm sold out and passionate about them and being a part of their team. Maybe this comes from my time on Young Life staff where you have to be convinced that you wouldn't want to be doing anything else. Because when it gets hard, it's this conviction that keeps you going. It's not only the feeling that I should be preparing for a future career that's bothering me, it's the lack of call. I'm lacking some purpose and meaning. Maybe my call isn't work related. Maybe I'm just called to be a volunteer Young Life leader and called to be a faithful person and live well. Then work is just work and not my life's purpose.
I don't know how to answer the 10 or the five year question. And as much as I want to be okay with that, I'm freaking out a bit. I'm not much of a free spirit.
I haven't been in a place like this since my freshman year of college. It was my sophomore year that I decided I wanted to go on Young Life staff, so the three remaining years of school were spent wondering what area I would work for and who I would marry. These felt like major question marks back then, but I could have answered where I'd like to be in five years at least.
Since being called away from Young Life staff in January I have yet to figure out what I'm called into instead. Yes I'm pursuing event planning and LOVE working for the wedding coordination firm. I could see myself doing that for five years and possibly 10, but I'm not sure. Each wedding I've assisted on has been nothing but awesome and energizing, but I'm not even full time. What if in two years I'm doing it full time and decide maybe it's not for me? I think I'm fine with this possibility. I think I'm fine with these next few years being a question mark and a time of exploration of trying out different jobs. But some days I'm not fine with it. Part of me feels like my time is valuable and I should be using this time to build my resume and collect experiences and education that will qualify me and prepare me for my career. But for what career? Weddings? What if that doesn't work out? I have this fear that I'm going to be 35 when I decide what I really want to do only to find myself under qualified or behind everyone else applying for the same position who has been spending their time racking up the degrees and internships and work experience. Do I really have the freedom to explore and experiment during this season? Wasn't I supposed to be doing that during college?
I see this obligation to ambition come out when I'm coming up with answers to interview questions. I'm not sure future employers want to hear me answer the "what are you doing in 10 years" question with "I'm not sure". I don't think they want to hear that I'm just pursuing a job with them in order to earn an income. They want to hear that I am committing to them. That I'm sold out and passionate about them and being a part of their team. Maybe this comes from my time on Young Life staff where you have to be convinced that you wouldn't want to be doing anything else. Because when it gets hard, it's this conviction that keeps you going. It's not only the feeling that I should be preparing for a future career that's bothering me, it's the lack of call. I'm lacking some purpose and meaning. Maybe my call isn't work related. Maybe I'm just called to be a volunteer Young Life leader and called to be a faithful person and live well. Then work is just work and not my life's purpose.
I don't know how to answer the 10 or the five year question. And as much as I want to be okay with that, I'm freaking out a bit. I'm not much of a free spirit.
The F Word
I've been majorly slacking on the writing. I may write multiple posts today just to gain some ground back. Is that cheating? Worse things have happened.
I was working at the store the other night and a nice gentleman was asking for assistance...so I assisted. He was trying on sweaters and at one point asked, "Does this make me look gay?" I said, "Nooo?" The question mark was probably evident in my voice because the onslaught of my irritation with comments like this was about to overcome me. His response, "I don't want to look like a f*g. Not that there's anything wrong with that." (Just so you know f*g does not stand for fig.)
Was he kidding? Was an adult male in 2010 seriously using this word in the presence of a complete stranger? My response? I think I stayed as neutral as possible and politely went back to organizing a rack of clothes. He had no idea I was offended, went back to his dressing room, and later bought the sweater. No harm no foul...on his end at least.
There were so many things upsetting about this interaction. Allow me to start small. Being married to a man who works in retail and loves clothing, I am perhaps a little more sensitive to the stereotypes surrounding men who appreciate clothing. Having a handful of friends who are gay makes me sensitive to the stereotypes surrounding homosexuality. I just get annoyed by guys who are so uncomfortable shopping for clothes that they think to care about what you look like and to put any effort into your appearance means you're "gay". And then there's that stupid phrase trying to soften the blow, "Not that there's anything wrong with that." So you're just going to use "gay" as a derogatory term and then try to excuse it by saying that you don't have a problem with anyone being gay.
I hate the F word. When Young Life kids use it I jump on them. I can do that with kids. They're younger than me. I'm in a mentor/authority role. There's room to teach inside of moments like those. However in my workplace I felt powerless to say anything. He was a customer and that was not the place to confront such an issue. But inside I was pissed. I told Daniel about it and he was frustrated as well, "If he would have used the N word you could've kicked him out of the store." But we're just not there yet with the F word. The fact that he said such a hateful word with a smile was alarming. 1. God forbid you look like a gay man...oh the horror! and 2. You're going to put down an entire portion of the population and then dismiss your prejudice with "not that there's anything wrong with it." If you really believed that I don't think you'd speak that way or be so terrified of being viewed as gay because of wearing a sweater.
Not everyone has the benefit of having gay friends since we live in a pretty closeted society. Getting to know a few gay men and lesbians helps one to view them as people and not a political or religious "issue". When I saw Brokeback Mountain Daniel and I agreed it should be required viewing material for all Americans as a sort of sensitivity training. I'm sure people could read about my frustration with this man and say, "He doesn't know any better." I just think it's time for him to know better. You never know who you're hurting when you cling the excuse of ignorance. I have a little anxiety about this post as I try to avoid controversy and confrontation. But I think it's a shame that the use of the F word and treating homosexuals with respect, dignity, and common kindness is controversial at all.
I was working at the store the other night and a nice gentleman was asking for assistance...so I assisted. He was trying on sweaters and at one point asked, "Does this make me look gay?" I said, "Nooo?" The question mark was probably evident in my voice because the onslaught of my irritation with comments like this was about to overcome me. His response, "I don't want to look like a f*g. Not that there's anything wrong with that." (Just so you know f*g does not stand for fig.)
Was he kidding? Was an adult male in 2010 seriously using this word in the presence of a complete stranger? My response? I think I stayed as neutral as possible and politely went back to organizing a rack of clothes. He had no idea I was offended, went back to his dressing room, and later bought the sweater. No harm no foul...on his end at least.
There were so many things upsetting about this interaction. Allow me to start small. Being married to a man who works in retail and loves clothing, I am perhaps a little more sensitive to the stereotypes surrounding men who appreciate clothing. Having a handful of friends who are gay makes me sensitive to the stereotypes surrounding homosexuality. I just get annoyed by guys who are so uncomfortable shopping for clothes that they think to care about what you look like and to put any effort into your appearance means you're "gay". And then there's that stupid phrase trying to soften the blow, "Not that there's anything wrong with that." So you're just going to use "gay" as a derogatory term and then try to excuse it by saying that you don't have a problem with anyone being gay.
I hate the F word. When Young Life kids use it I jump on them. I can do that with kids. They're younger than me. I'm in a mentor/authority role. There's room to teach inside of moments like those. However in my workplace I felt powerless to say anything. He was a customer and that was not the place to confront such an issue. But inside I was pissed. I told Daniel about it and he was frustrated as well, "If he would have used the N word you could've kicked him out of the store." But we're just not there yet with the F word. The fact that he said such a hateful word with a smile was alarming. 1. God forbid you look like a gay man...oh the horror! and 2. You're going to put down an entire portion of the population and then dismiss your prejudice with "not that there's anything wrong with it." If you really believed that I don't think you'd speak that way or be so terrified of being viewed as gay because of wearing a sweater.
Not everyone has the benefit of having gay friends since we live in a pretty closeted society. Getting to know a few gay men and lesbians helps one to view them as people and not a political or religious "issue". When I saw Brokeback Mountain Daniel and I agreed it should be required viewing material for all Americans as a sort of sensitivity training. I'm sure people could read about my frustration with this man and say, "He doesn't know any better." I just think it's time for him to know better. You never know who you're hurting when you cling the excuse of ignorance. I have a little anxiety about this post as I try to avoid controversy and confrontation. But I think it's a shame that the use of the F word and treating homosexuals with respect, dignity, and common kindness is controversial at all.
Sunday, October 31
Happy Halloween
Happy Halloween :) The shopping center I work at hosts trick or treating each year so I eagerly asked who at our store would be handing out the candy. Noticing my enthusiasm my manager gave me the job. It was awesome. For 2 hours of my work day all I had to do was stand at the front door and give candy to cute little costumed kids. Really feeling the spirit, I headed home after work and prepared to greet trick or treaters at our house...but not before humiliating my dog-children. That's Penny as a chicken and Tobes as a dinosaur (or dragon- it's kind of ambiguous).
By the way I think it's funny how you can tell I don't have a full time job by the way we celebrated our Halloween. Notice the size of our pumpkins? We get two each year (one for each of the dog-children). This year's are "pie" pumpkins from the produce department which means they are priced at only 2 for $5 as opposed to the larger carving pumpkins at 3 for $10. Penny's costume was one we picked up from Target last year during their post-Halloween clearance. Toby's was the costume we bought for him his first Halloween with us (before Penny joined our family that November). I wore my skeleton costume from last year since we were partying with people we didn't see last year when I first wore it. Recession living works great for us! We already have plenty of stuff we didn't need in the first place like a closest full of dog clothes. Seriously we had multiple costumes to choose from. These just happened to be two of the favorites.
Happy Halloween from our little family to yours. Next up: Thanksgiving!!!
Thursday, October 28
Hyper Focused
Hello there. I took an unintentional 2 week hiatus from the blog, but am happy to be back. The reason for my absence? Hyper focus. "What is hyper focus?" you may ask. I may not be giving the completely accurate medical description of it, but here is what my experience has been whether or not I am using the term correctly.
A bi-product of my anxiety at times is obsessive fixation. The fixation for me is usually on an upcoming event or appointment, or on an item I would like to purchase. Hang with me. When the fixation is on an event, it's like I can't think about anything until the event has taken place. Mentally I feel like I can't move on with my life until that particular date has passed. All of my focus, energy, planning, preparation, and thoughts are spent on this one moment in time. For example if I am throwing a party, all of my free time is spent pondering all the aspects of what needs to get done. This sounds like it would make me really effective, like I am able to devote myself completely to tasks. Wrong. Even when I need to give my attention to other things or when I am relaxing or having a conversation with someone, all my mind is doing is thinking about the event. It is the complete inability to multi-task and a picture of an "all or nothing" disposition.
Allow me to explain the fixation on a future purchase since I know this may sound strange. I didn't realize I was doing this or that it was abnormal until a few years ago when Daniel politely asked me to stop talking about something I wanted. I'm not sure why I do this, but it may be a coping mechanism I've picked up to distract me from something that is making me anxious. I think I may get obsessive about things in order to avoid dealing with feelings of anxiety. For example I will see a furniture item or piece of clothing that I like and suddenly my attention is devoted to that item. I will spend time looking at it online, visiting it at the mall, and scheming of things I can sell in order to pay for the item. Crazy I know.
Well a lot of this hyper focus has been occurring over these last two weeks leaving me without much mental energy to write or blog. I should have been blogging because the exercise would have taught me some balance. Let me give you a picture of how this fixation can play out and give you some insight into the obsessive mind of a crazy person. I mentioned before that with wedding season coming to a close I am in need of a third job. Last week I was offered the opportunity to interview for a full time position at one of my current jobs. After laying awake that night unable to sleep and talking with Daniel, I realized that the job wouldn't be a good fit for me and just the thought of it was already causing me stress. The next day I turned down the interview and pulled myself out of the process. I found an opportunity with the school district working at an elementary school and applied for the job on Monday. With the anxiety brewing over turning down one opportunity and pursuing another, I was ripe for a potential fixation. Enter glitter flats. I found a pair of adorable gold glittery shoes. However they are at a store exempt from Daniel and I's collective retail discount (it's really hard to pay full price once you've been spoiled by discounts and when you're not making much money) and I already spent my clothing allowance for October (and am saving November's for a trip to Chicago). I visited the shoes one afternoon just to "check on them". I devised a financial plan of using some of our anniversary money to pay for them. They remained out of my grasp.
So on Monday after dropping off my application for the elementary school job, I went to DSW to see if they offered a more affordable alternative to the perfect shoes. They did in fact have a perfect substitute. They retailed for only $39.99 and were an additional 30% off making them in the neighborhood of $28. They didn't have my size so I had the store call their other locations to see if they had them in my size. They had them in Overland Park so I headed 25 minutes West to pick them up. When I got there I opened the shoebox with my little hold tag on them to much dismay. They were the wrong shoes. The store didn't even have the glitter flat. Slightly annoyed but still hopeful, I continued my search. I headed to their third location another 15 minutes away only to find an even more dismal selection. I stopped by Oak Park Mall for a hail mary attempt at locating the discounted shoes before making my long trek home. A few hours and a tour of Johnson County later, I made it home.
The next day I called DSW's Zona Rosa location. The woman on the other end of the phone said she had the shoes and in my size ready to hold them for me. I double checked and asked, "There the one's with glitter all over the entire shoe?" She confirmed and with Daniel in tow we drove 40 minutes North (through construction traffic) to pick up the shoes. I should have known. Not the right shoe, not even close to the right style, not the same brand. I mumbled and grumbled my way through the aisles of shoes venting to Daniel about the lady's complete incompetence. This is not like me, but these were glitter flats dammit! She apologized and stated how she should have checked the style name. Well duh! What did she think when I requested a particular style name? That any pewter colored flat would be fine?
I ordered them online today. I didn't get the extra 30% off, but I did get free shipping. If I had fought for the discount I would have had to pay shipping since they were under $35. I'll be glad when the whole glitter flat fiasco is over. But as a result of all this drama, I haven't thought about my interview on Friday morning for the new job and how nervous I am. Distraction accomplished? Did I really just create a week-long scenario to consume my mind in order to spare myself from dealing with the anxious feelings I'm having about something that really does matter? I think so.
One of the main reasons I'm most excited about getting a full time job is to keep myself busy and focused on things that matter. Now that I'm working again I find myself SIGNIFICANTLY less anxious because I am too busy and tired at the end of the day to worry about insignificant things. I'll be glad for the day when I don't have time to run around town in pursuit of $28 sparkly flats. This is called "getting a life."
I feel super lame after this entry, but it helped me feel better by venting. Besides if I let stupid entries keep me from posting, I'd be on another two week hiatus.
A bi-product of my anxiety at times is obsessive fixation. The fixation for me is usually on an upcoming event or appointment, or on an item I would like to purchase. Hang with me. When the fixation is on an event, it's like I can't think about anything until the event has taken place. Mentally I feel like I can't move on with my life until that particular date has passed. All of my focus, energy, planning, preparation, and thoughts are spent on this one moment in time. For example if I am throwing a party, all of my free time is spent pondering all the aspects of what needs to get done. This sounds like it would make me really effective, like I am able to devote myself completely to tasks. Wrong. Even when I need to give my attention to other things or when I am relaxing or having a conversation with someone, all my mind is doing is thinking about the event. It is the complete inability to multi-task and a picture of an "all or nothing" disposition.
Allow me to explain the fixation on a future purchase since I know this may sound strange. I didn't realize I was doing this or that it was abnormal until a few years ago when Daniel politely asked me to stop talking about something I wanted. I'm not sure why I do this, but it may be a coping mechanism I've picked up to distract me from something that is making me anxious. I think I may get obsessive about things in order to avoid dealing with feelings of anxiety. For example I will see a furniture item or piece of clothing that I like and suddenly my attention is devoted to that item. I will spend time looking at it online, visiting it at the mall, and scheming of things I can sell in order to pay for the item. Crazy I know.
Well a lot of this hyper focus has been occurring over these last two weeks leaving me without much mental energy to write or blog. I should have been blogging because the exercise would have taught me some balance. Let me give you a picture of how this fixation can play out and give you some insight into the obsessive mind of a crazy person. I mentioned before that with wedding season coming to a close I am in need of a third job. Last week I was offered the opportunity to interview for a full time position at one of my current jobs. After laying awake that night unable to sleep and talking with Daniel, I realized that the job wouldn't be a good fit for me and just the thought of it was already causing me stress. The next day I turned down the interview and pulled myself out of the process. I found an opportunity with the school district working at an elementary school and applied for the job on Monday. With the anxiety brewing over turning down one opportunity and pursuing another, I was ripe for a potential fixation. Enter glitter flats. I found a pair of adorable gold glittery shoes. However they are at a store exempt from Daniel and I's collective retail discount (it's really hard to pay full price once you've been spoiled by discounts and when you're not making much money) and I already spent my clothing allowance for October (and am saving November's for a trip to Chicago). I visited the shoes one afternoon just to "check on them". I devised a financial plan of using some of our anniversary money to pay for them. They remained out of my grasp.
So on Monday after dropping off my application for the elementary school job, I went to DSW to see if they offered a more affordable alternative to the perfect shoes. They did in fact have a perfect substitute. They retailed for only $39.99 and were an additional 30% off making them in the neighborhood of $28. They didn't have my size so I had the store call their other locations to see if they had them in my size. They had them in Overland Park so I headed 25 minutes West to pick them up. When I got there I opened the shoebox with my little hold tag on them to much dismay. They were the wrong shoes. The store didn't even have the glitter flat. Slightly annoyed but still hopeful, I continued my search. I headed to their third location another 15 minutes away only to find an even more dismal selection. I stopped by Oak Park Mall for a hail mary attempt at locating the discounted shoes before making my long trek home. A few hours and a tour of Johnson County later, I made it home.
The next day I called DSW's Zona Rosa location. The woman on the other end of the phone said she had the shoes and in my size ready to hold them for me. I double checked and asked, "There the one's with glitter all over the entire shoe?" She confirmed and with Daniel in tow we drove 40 minutes North (through construction traffic) to pick up the shoes. I should have known. Not the right shoe, not even close to the right style, not the same brand. I mumbled and grumbled my way through the aisles of shoes venting to Daniel about the lady's complete incompetence. This is not like me, but these were glitter flats dammit! She apologized and stated how she should have checked the style name. Well duh! What did she think when I requested a particular style name? That any pewter colored flat would be fine?
I ordered them online today. I didn't get the extra 30% off, but I did get free shipping. If I had fought for the discount I would have had to pay shipping since they were under $35. I'll be glad when the whole glitter flat fiasco is over. But as a result of all this drama, I haven't thought about my interview on Friday morning for the new job and how nervous I am. Distraction accomplished? Did I really just create a week-long scenario to consume my mind in order to spare myself from dealing with the anxious feelings I'm having about something that really does matter? I think so.
One of the main reasons I'm most excited about getting a full time job is to keep myself busy and focused on things that matter. Now that I'm working again I find myself SIGNIFICANTLY less anxious because I am too busy and tired at the end of the day to worry about insignificant things. I'll be glad for the day when I don't have time to run around town in pursuit of $28 sparkly flats. This is called "getting a life."
I feel super lame after this entry, but it helped me feel better by venting. Besides if I let stupid entries keep me from posting, I'd be on another two week hiatus.
Thursday, October 14
Chilean Miners and an Existential Crisis
So the Chilean miners story is a pretty fascinating one. We haven't had "rescue" stories when it comes to the mining accidents in the US over the past few years. The thought of 2 months underground is classified as a horror movie plot. My claustrophobia is in full effect just thinking about the suffocating lack of air, space, light, and freedom. I can't even imagine what it was like or what it took for them to survive such a terrifying ordeal. How is any human that patient allowing them to simply wait it out?
The night the first miner was pulled out I was watching CNN with the rest of the world glued to the TV. They brought on a psychologist to comment on the mental toll an accident like this can take on a victim and what they can expect in the coming months and years. Her insights were extremely profound and I found myself contemplating my own existence after her brief 3 minute segment. She explained that an event like this will cause an existential crisis. She pointed out that for the first 17 days or something they had absolutely no contact with the outside world. They were left down there to think or assume or conclude whatever they wanted to about their fate. If it had been me I would have assumed it was the end. But here they were being lifted out of that little metal shuttle retrieving them from the dark depths. Here's where she got poignant. She said their ascent to the surface and stepping out of that tube resembled birth. It was like they were entering the world for the first time all over again. Woah. She used another word too: reboot, like as in a computer. She said when you face death like they each did and then go on to live after facing your own demise that you can feel like you're starting over (in a good way). This is the thought of having a second chance at things. You've stared down the thought of losing everything and now that you've been given it all back, will you be any different?
I began asking myself these same questions. But first do I have to go through a traumatic experience to alter my life? Could I evaluate how I'm living and change my course just through some introspection? What would I change? Could I live better? What is stopping me from living like I'm just grateful to still be here?
My niece's brain tumor was life altering for everyone in our immediate family. It certainly changed our family dynamic for the better. We are more open, vulnerable, and emotionally available. But I've written before that life still goes on and the petty, everyday things creep back in. For a while I was grateful for things returning to normal. When you're sitting in the waiting room during surgery, normal feels like a lofty prayer. Survival and just scraping by are what you beg for. Normal, that's a luxury. So yes childhood cancer will rock you, but to what extent and for how long? Can I foster a spirit of gratitude like I had when we were in the thick of it?
It's not too late for me to live better. That sentiment is at the heart of this blog project. Can I shake off this fear and insecurity? Can I shed this perfectionism and just accept reality? Can I attack my dreams with confidence and let go of all the things out of my control? I think I can. I think I will. I had better before I end up at the bottom of a mine wishing I'd really lived while I had the chance.
The night the first miner was pulled out I was watching CNN with the rest of the world glued to the TV. They brought on a psychologist to comment on the mental toll an accident like this can take on a victim and what they can expect in the coming months and years. Her insights were extremely profound and I found myself contemplating my own existence after her brief 3 minute segment. She explained that an event like this will cause an existential crisis. She pointed out that for the first 17 days or something they had absolutely no contact with the outside world. They were left down there to think or assume or conclude whatever they wanted to about their fate. If it had been me I would have assumed it was the end. But here they were being lifted out of that little metal shuttle retrieving them from the dark depths. Here's where she got poignant. She said their ascent to the surface and stepping out of that tube resembled birth. It was like they were entering the world for the first time all over again. Woah. She used another word too: reboot, like as in a computer. She said when you face death like they each did and then go on to live after facing your own demise that you can feel like you're starting over (in a good way). This is the thought of having a second chance at things. You've stared down the thought of losing everything and now that you've been given it all back, will you be any different?
I began asking myself these same questions. But first do I have to go through a traumatic experience to alter my life? Could I evaluate how I'm living and change my course just through some introspection? What would I change? Could I live better? What is stopping me from living like I'm just grateful to still be here?
My niece's brain tumor was life altering for everyone in our immediate family. It certainly changed our family dynamic for the better. We are more open, vulnerable, and emotionally available. But I've written before that life still goes on and the petty, everyday things creep back in. For a while I was grateful for things returning to normal. When you're sitting in the waiting room during surgery, normal feels like a lofty prayer. Survival and just scraping by are what you beg for. Normal, that's a luxury. So yes childhood cancer will rock you, but to what extent and for how long? Can I foster a spirit of gratitude like I had when we were in the thick of it?
It's not too late for me to live better. That sentiment is at the heart of this blog project. Can I shake off this fear and insecurity? Can I shed this perfectionism and just accept reality? Can I attack my dreams with confidence and let go of all the things out of my control? I think I can. I think I will. I had better before I end up at the bottom of a mine wishing I'd really lived while I had the chance.
Monday, October 11
Third Job...but Seriously
My journal entry today literally started with, "I feel like I'm right back where I started." Turns out it's harder to work as a princess than anticipated, which leads me to another job search as I try to move closer to a full 40 hour work week. Since I already have two jobs I didn't think this search would be as discouraging as the first, but it's no picnic. Where do I start? What should I try? How many hours is it offering? What does it pay? I think my discouragement comes from needing something that pays more than $8.50 but is still flexible enough and temporary enough to allow for me to really pursue wedding planning as that position grows in the next year.
The amount of work I'm currently doing and the pay is what older wealthy women do. You know just work for something fun to do, for the discount on clothes, for who knows why (if I was rich I wouldn't work 'for fun'). I need an income. I need to contribute to my family. Ugh this is hard. One job I think could be fun is to work in an elementary school library. Today I happened to find that position in my own school district nonetheless! I couldn't believe it. I clicked on the little button that said enthusiastically, "I want to apply for this position!" It sent me to a screen that said the application deadline had passed. I looked at the listing again and realized I had missed the cutoff by (ready for this?) 45 minutes. I called human resources and was told this was a 'hard deadline' meaning I cannot apply after the fact. Seriously? I have to trust that it wasn't meant to be, but seriously, c'mon! Wish me luck as I continue my search. I need it.
The amount of work I'm currently doing and the pay is what older wealthy women do. You know just work for something fun to do, for the discount on clothes, for who knows why (if I was rich I wouldn't work 'for fun'). I need an income. I need to contribute to my family. Ugh this is hard. One job I think could be fun is to work in an elementary school library. Today I happened to find that position in my own school district nonetheless! I couldn't believe it. I clicked on the little button that said enthusiastically, "I want to apply for this position!" It sent me to a screen that said the application deadline had passed. I looked at the listing again and realized I had missed the cutoff by (ready for this?) 45 minutes. I called human resources and was told this was a 'hard deadline' meaning I cannot apply after the fact. Seriously? I have to trust that it wasn't meant to be, but seriously, c'mon! Wish me luck as I continue my search. I need it.
Sunday, October 10
Third Job
So wedding season is coming to a close in the next few weeks which means I won't have as much work available....which means I will probably need to get a third job during the quiet months of winter. So here I am pondering a job search yet again. This round is a little different because there's not as much pressure to find the "just right" thing (or two in my case) because I do have some form of income and this would be to supplement that. I've been contemplating options that are a little outside of the box. I have 5 or so months of slow/down time to fill. The option I am most wanting to research is that of princess. "Princess," you ask. Yes princess. My niece went to a birthday party where Ariel, otherwise known as the Little Mermaid, visited. I guess there's a woman who sends out different princesses to little girls' birthday parties. This falls right in line with my desire to be a mascot at some point. I don't know what it is about performing in costume that appeals to me. The other option along these lines is being some form of a holiday princess at a local shopping mall. Some places supplement visits to Santa with a visit to see the Winter Fairy Princess or something like that. How great would it be to wear a big gown, sit on a throne, and grant the Christmas wishes of little children all while yielding a wand? Does anyone have any connections or "in's" that they could use to help me land a princess gig? I'm all full of magical cheer and enchantedness.
Friday, October 8
The Chambray Shirt Club
We were witnesses tonight to Lebron James as the Heat came to town to play a pre-season game against the Thunder. Our good friends Huy and Jessie joined us for a very fun night. Daniel and I met up after work and realized we were dressed the same (black/navy pants, blue button up shirt). I bought a $5 GRAY shirt from work...problem solved. When we got to the Sprint center Daniel went straight inside and I waited for our friends. When I saw Huy walk up the first thing I said was, "You and Daniel are wearing the same shirt." Unlike he and I wearing similar shirts, Huy and Daniel were wearing the exact same shirt. The situation made for some great photo ops. At least we all have the same style in common.
Thursday, October 7
Sequins for the Soul
Chicken Soup for the Soul is a fine series of books for anyone looking for a little warm and fuzzy sensation. As opposed to the uplifting inspirational stories found in these books, my Chicken Soup for the Soul happens to be in the form of sequins. While I was still looking for a job I wrote this post about longing for a paycheck so I could purchase even the most affordable items of clothing from the mall. It was entitled "The Temptation of Sequins and Polyester". The more profound sentiment that arose from that post was while writing it realizing that it wasn't necessarily the clothes themselves that I wanted as much as I was wanting a purpose and place to wear them to. It was while writing this post that I was first able to articulate to myself my fear in unemployment of being "left behind" while everyone else went off to their jobs.
Well here we are just a short while later and not only am I dually employed, but working for my dream wedding coordination firm. And to top everything off...I bought sequins today. The deep pink sequin pencil skirt I've been eyeing in our store since I first started has gradually made its way to the sale rack and I've watched it move around our store since day one. Our family budget is still to be determined as we try and reconfigure numbers with my new income, so my clothing allowance hasn't really existed since June. The other night Daniel dropped a number on me giving me the all clear to go ahead and buy something this month. I immediately began planning what item or items I would get. The sequin skirt was on the top of the list and today was the big day that I could at last make her mine. She went on sale online and so I had a hunch that I would find her price reduced even further when I went back into the store today to get her. Sure enough she had been marked down yet again. I literally jumped up and down as I embraced her in my arms. My co-workers giggled and celebrated along with me. She was originally $138 and I walked away with her for $25 leaving me some extra money for an additional purchase.
It may sound dumb, but for anyone who loves clothes like I do, you get it. And for anyone who's been unemployed and unable to purchase non-necessities, you know what it's like when you get to make your first "fun" purchase after starting work again. My "cherry on top" of receiving a regular paycheck came disguised as sequins: a fitting symbol I think. They're sparkly, shiny, pretty. They're almost like fireworks. And nothing says "party" or "celebration" like sequins. Having a job is a party indeed.
Well here we are just a short while later and not only am I dually employed, but working for my dream wedding coordination firm. And to top everything off...I bought sequins today. The deep pink sequin pencil skirt I've been eyeing in our store since I first started has gradually made its way to the sale rack and I've watched it move around our store since day one. Our family budget is still to be determined as we try and reconfigure numbers with my new income, so my clothing allowance hasn't really existed since June. The other night Daniel dropped a number on me giving me the all clear to go ahead and buy something this month. I immediately began planning what item or items I would get. The sequin skirt was on the top of the list and today was the big day that I could at last make her mine. She went on sale online and so I had a hunch that I would find her price reduced even further when I went back into the store today to get her. Sure enough she had been marked down yet again. I literally jumped up and down as I embraced her in my arms. My co-workers giggled and celebrated along with me. She was originally $138 and I walked away with her for $25 leaving me some extra money for an additional purchase.
It may sound dumb, but for anyone who loves clothes like I do, you get it. And for anyone who's been unemployed and unable to purchase non-necessities, you know what it's like when you get to make your first "fun" purchase after starting work again. My "cherry on top" of receiving a regular paycheck came disguised as sequins: a fitting symbol I think. They're sparkly, shiny, pretty. They're almost like fireworks. And nothing says "party" or "celebration" like sequins. Having a job is a party indeed.
Wednesday, October 6
On Becoming Domestic
Two circumstances collided recently leading to my domestication. Up until the past few weeks I have not been much of a domestic goddess. I don't really cook and cleaning is reserved for house visits from friends. However with working jobs that take place outside of my home office and having more distinct days off, I've tried to begin a rhythm of housework. The first of my two days off is reserved for complete relaxation, a sort of sabbath. I don't have to run any errands, clean, or do much of anything I don't care to do. I can read, watch TV, nap, and all of this is done guilt free because I know a. I worked the past 5 days and b. tomorrow is reserved for cleaning and tending to the house. Last week Daniel and I celebrated our 4 year wedding anniversary and one of my contributions to the celebration was to cook each day of that week. I made double chocolate muffins (out of a box, but still), chicken noodle soup and corn bread muffins, and spaghetti and meatballs.
I've made a handful of other meals over the past few weeks as well and have to say that part of me is beginning to enjoy the fruits of my labor. It's nice to have vacuumed carpets and clean laundry, not to mention clean sheets. This is all very much out of character for me, but you can teach an old dog new tricks and hopefully this domestication will stick. I can't believe I'm 29 and just now embracing my wifely domestic side. At Target today Daniel and I discussed how it took me a very, very long time to embrace my feminine side. Target is selling glitter-skeletons as part of their Halloween decorations. I said I am drawn to anything these days covered in glitter or sequins (as evidenced by my recent wardrobe obsessions). We started discussing how I think I'm making up for all the glitter and sparkle I passed up as a little girl. I wasn't a full on tomboy, but I certainly wasn't girly. I was just a rough and tumble kid. I played with Barbies, but I didn't dress myself up like her. I braided my 'My Little Pony's' mane, but didn't know how to braid my own hair. (I still to this day have no idea how to french braid.) I didn't even own or carry a purse until after graduating college. Even then my first purse was tiny and I gradually worked up to a more conspicuous bag as opposed to the earlier models that remained tucked discreetly under my arm. I've psycho-analyzed myself and my delayed femininity to understand where all this comes from, but the purse example is the best outward evidence of my inner dilemma.
These days I love girly things. My favorite skirt is one made of feathers followed closely by my sequin mini. I am coveting a pair of Steve Madden glitter kitten heels and saving my pennies for a pink sequin pencil skirt from the store I work at. And my purse...well these days I carry one adorned with a giant gold chain and big enough to fit a stack of file folders. It seems that cooking and cleaning are just a natural progression in this process. I take pride in my elementary cooking skills and no longer apologize for or laugh at my lack of skill when serving meals to friends. Someone said the meatballs the other night were some of the best he'd ever had. I'm not trying to win any Susie-Homemaker awards or begin a blog highlighting my domestic prowess (I'll leave that up to my very, very talented friends whom I'm sure Daniel would be delighted to have care for our home and cook us gourmet dishes as would I), but I'm gaining confidence in this arena. Just as I gained courage to carry a bigger and bigger purse, signifying that yes indeed I am a female, I'm hoping to gain confidence in the kitchen and in other domestic arenas as well. Wish me luck.
I've made a handful of other meals over the past few weeks as well and have to say that part of me is beginning to enjoy the fruits of my labor. It's nice to have vacuumed carpets and clean laundry, not to mention clean sheets. This is all very much out of character for me, but you can teach an old dog new tricks and hopefully this domestication will stick. I can't believe I'm 29 and just now embracing my wifely domestic side. At Target today Daniel and I discussed how it took me a very, very long time to embrace my feminine side. Target is selling glitter-skeletons as part of their Halloween decorations. I said I am drawn to anything these days covered in glitter or sequins (as evidenced by my recent wardrobe obsessions). We started discussing how I think I'm making up for all the glitter and sparkle I passed up as a little girl. I wasn't a full on tomboy, but I certainly wasn't girly. I was just a rough and tumble kid. I played with Barbies, but I didn't dress myself up like her. I braided my 'My Little Pony's' mane, but didn't know how to braid my own hair. (I still to this day have no idea how to french braid.) I didn't even own or carry a purse until after graduating college. Even then my first purse was tiny and I gradually worked up to a more conspicuous bag as opposed to the earlier models that remained tucked discreetly under my arm. I've psycho-analyzed myself and my delayed femininity to understand where all this comes from, but the purse example is the best outward evidence of my inner dilemma.
These days I love girly things. My favorite skirt is one made of feathers followed closely by my sequin mini. I am coveting a pair of Steve Madden glitter kitten heels and saving my pennies for a pink sequin pencil skirt from the store I work at. And my purse...well these days I carry one adorned with a giant gold chain and big enough to fit a stack of file folders. It seems that cooking and cleaning are just a natural progression in this process. I take pride in my elementary cooking skills and no longer apologize for or laugh at my lack of skill when serving meals to friends. Someone said the meatballs the other night were some of the best he'd ever had. I'm not trying to win any Susie-Homemaker awards or begin a blog highlighting my domestic prowess (I'll leave that up to my very, very talented friends whom I'm sure Daniel would be delighted to have care for our home and cook us gourmet dishes as would I), but I'm gaining confidence in this arena. Just as I gained courage to carry a bigger and bigger purse, signifying that yes indeed I am a female, I'm hoping to gain confidence in the kitchen and in other domestic arenas as well. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, October 5
Pessimistic
I took a little blogging vacation. I've been keeping busy living a normal productive life instead of holed up in bed riddled with anxiety. Living inside of structure and routine have given me such freedom and I can say this is the best I have felt in a very long time. Daniel and I were talking about the changes he's seen in me since transitioning into my new jobs and lifestyle. It's good to know that there's actually evidence of my new found health. He notices a difference; it's not just me thinking I'm doing better.
Here's how unaccustomed I am to feeling this stable: I keep waiting for the bottom to fall out. I will find myself overcome with feelings of absolute dread and try to remember what it is that I'm afraid of exactly. There's nothing though. I have nothing to feel anxious or fearful of, but my mind is so used to frequent periods of dread, fear, and worry that it creates those emotions even when there's nothing to worry about. I keep thinking that everything is going to collapse or fall apart like there's no way things could actually feel good for this long of a stretch. How horrible is that? I am so used to contentment feeling fleeting that it's hard for me to accept that healthy "normal" people can enjoy this sense of stability for extended periods of time. I don't trust life, myself, or my emotions. Something's got to fall apart sooner or later. Right?
I do not want to live this way just waiting for the impending disaster. I think it will just take time as I continue to test the waters and realize that I don't have to carry an umbrella on me as I wait for the rain. I can relax for once instead of bracing for impact from the most recent task I've fallen short on again. It's October now which means it's 4th quarter for this little blog project. I'm hoping to finish these final 3 months strong. I don't mean not missing posts or refining my writing. I mean living. I still have a whole quarter to go so I don't want to start evaluating now, but I can confidently say that I am different because of this blog. I hope the 4th quarter is filled with an even more increased amount of freedom from perfectionism, bravery in the face of fear and anxiety, and an enjoyment of life just as it is: good, bad, and even just mediocre at times.
Here's how unaccustomed I am to feeling this stable: I keep waiting for the bottom to fall out. I will find myself overcome with feelings of absolute dread and try to remember what it is that I'm afraid of exactly. There's nothing though. I have nothing to feel anxious or fearful of, but my mind is so used to frequent periods of dread, fear, and worry that it creates those emotions even when there's nothing to worry about. I keep thinking that everything is going to collapse or fall apart like there's no way things could actually feel good for this long of a stretch. How horrible is that? I am so used to contentment feeling fleeting that it's hard for me to accept that healthy "normal" people can enjoy this sense of stability for extended periods of time. I don't trust life, myself, or my emotions. Something's got to fall apart sooner or later. Right?
I do not want to live this way just waiting for the impending disaster. I think it will just take time as I continue to test the waters and realize that I don't have to carry an umbrella on me as I wait for the rain. I can relax for once instead of bracing for impact from the most recent task I've fallen short on again. It's October now which means it's 4th quarter for this little blog project. I'm hoping to finish these final 3 months strong. I don't mean not missing posts or refining my writing. I mean living. I still have a whole quarter to go so I don't want to start evaluating now, but I can confidently say that I am different because of this blog. I hope the 4th quarter is filled with an even more increased amount of freedom from perfectionism, bravery in the face of fear and anxiety, and an enjoyment of life just as it is: good, bad, and even just mediocre at times.
Wednesday, September 29
You Know You're a Perfectionist When...
You know you're a perfectionist when you'd rather be a part of a devastating traffic accident than be late for work.
I had to be at work at 8am today and I didn't add in enough time to my commute to accommodate rush hour. As a result I was 2o minutes late. I.was.mortified. Ugh it was horrible. I was so embarrassed. In the Grandview Triangle, the intersection of all southern KC highways, I sat in standstill traffic atop an overpass that had undergone major repairs this summer. A portion of the highway was removed and repaved after a sink hole developed and the roadway was damaged. We (Kansas Citians) were actually very lucky that the pavement showed signs of distress before any real damage occurred because they were able to block off that lane so no one was driving on that part of the road when it did collapse slightly a few days later. So back to this morning...there I was sitting on the sink hole repaired road, staring at my clock begging the minutes to stop advancing as my lateness tick-tocked away. I hate being late. That doesn't mean I'm not frequently late, but work is different, especially when at a new job still establishing myself as a trustworthy, dependable employee. The dread of facing my disappointed employer overcame me, my perfectionism and anxiety swirled around me creating the perfect storm producing this crazy thought, "Maybe if the overpass collapsed and I was part of the major accident as my car fell into the traffic below, then I'd have a reason for being late and they probably wouldn't be mad at me." I weighed the pros and cons of a tragic, devastating accident rather than deal with facing the consequences of my lateness. A little excessive I think, but this is a glimpse into my panicked brain. Welcome, it's crazy in here.
I had to be at work at 8am today and I didn't add in enough time to my commute to accommodate rush hour. As a result I was 2o minutes late. I.was.mortified. Ugh it was horrible. I was so embarrassed. In the Grandview Triangle, the intersection of all southern KC highways, I sat in standstill traffic atop an overpass that had undergone major repairs this summer. A portion of the highway was removed and repaved after a sink hole developed and the roadway was damaged. We (Kansas Citians) were actually very lucky that the pavement showed signs of distress before any real damage occurred because they were able to block off that lane so no one was driving on that part of the road when it did collapse slightly a few days later. So back to this morning...there I was sitting on the sink hole repaired road, staring at my clock begging the minutes to stop advancing as my lateness tick-tocked away. I hate being late. That doesn't mean I'm not frequently late, but work is different, especially when at a new job still establishing myself as a trustworthy, dependable employee. The dread of facing my disappointed employer overcame me, my perfectionism and anxiety swirled around me creating the perfect storm producing this crazy thought, "Maybe if the overpass collapsed and I was part of the major accident as my car fell into the traffic below, then I'd have a reason for being late and they probably wouldn't be mad at me." I weighed the pros and cons of a tragic, devastating accident rather than deal with facing the consequences of my lateness. A little excessive I think, but this is a glimpse into my panicked brain. Welcome, it's crazy in here.
Tuesday, September 28
Cal
This is Callie (otherwise known as the fell-asleep-at-the-snack-table-niece). Since posting such an embarrassing picture of the little gal I figured she deserved some cute pics as well...awake pictures.
She's kind of like a puppy sometimes.
She's kind of like a puppy sometimes.Monday, September 27
Time is Money
So I knew I'd have to remind myself to keep being "faithful with a little" when looking at my paycheck. I received my first paycheck and felt deflated. My feet, my legs, and my back hurt at the end each shift. I crash on the couch and some nights fall asleep right in front of the TV. I know this isn't a hard job, but I feel like I'm working hard while I'm working (if that makes sense). But at the end of the week when I look at a piece of paper evaluating my effort with a monetary value, the ache in my feet and the number don't seem to match up.
As a result of my hourly wage though I have started viewing all purchases in $8.50 increments. "I want a burrito from Chipotle, but that is equal to 45 minutes of work and if I get a drink, a full hour." It's like each purchase just negates the last 60 minutes I spent working. This system is a miserable way to live as it feels like I'm never making any headway, just financing visits to the grocery store (a half week's wages in case you were wondering). I've got to get out of this mindset...and rework our budget.
I working towards a goal though so I'm trying to stay positive about my current financial state because I know it's temporary. I will continue to be faithful with a little in the hopes that in the future I will be given more responsibility. But it's a hard way to live at $8.50 an hour.
Sunday, September 26
The Non-Post
I haven't updated the past few days....breaking my rule. But I'm just so darn tired at the end of every day. A good tired. A went-to-work-all-day tired. It feels good to have a job even if the blog is suffering.
Thursday, September 23
An In-Between Birthday
I swear I was not fishing for readers to comment on my post last night by saying that no one reads except for Greg. I hope it didn't seem like I was throwing a little pity party with my statement. I seriously could not believe that no one commented to make fun of me after divulging my embarrassing secret is all. Thank you for reading (and for telling me you read...that was very kind of you.)
So today was my birthday. It was very nice and I couldn't have asked for a better day all thanks to Daniel. He was thoughtful enough to take off work for the day even though I didn't ask for it off. Luckily my shift was just an "on call" and when I called in to see if they needed me they told me I wasn't needed. Perfect! We started off by surprising Daniel's dad at a Chamber of Commerce luncheon where he was named the Grand Marshall of Gladstone's Gladfest parade. It was a really sweet moment. Then we had lunch at The Farmhouse in City Market. Oh and I forgot to mention that when we got in my car this morning there was $5 on my windshield. At first I thought someone had hit my car and this was their "sorry" note. Is it horrible that my first instinct to something kind is that it is purely restitution for something bad? Then I thought maybe Daniel had put it there. Nope. So I'm not sure who the anonymous $5 is from, but it was fun and kind of exciting. I later spent that $5 to purchase cupcakes for me and Daniel from Baby Cakes after lunch. We headed home and I grabbed the book Daniel got me for a mid-afternoon read. Since we are adjusting to a new budget I am trying to save money where I previously would have spent without thought. As a result when the third and final book in the Hunger Games series came out, instead of purchasing it, I've been putting in time at the bookstore chipping away a chapter at a time. Daniel surprised me with the book at 12:01 last night knowing I would want to read it before bed. Now that I own it I get to read it whenever I want instead of when I have a spare hour to spend at the bookstore. So I read about 5 pages today before crashing for a cloudy day, post lunch nap. A birthday nap is the best kind of nap because you have no where to be and no one to tell you to get up because it's your birthday and people are usually pretty good about letting you do whatever you want on your birthday (like writing a run on sentence). We went to the West volleyball game to hang out with Young Life kids and then got ready for dinner. We went to Julian in Brookside. A friend from high school was our waiter and the food was just as great as the personal service.
I'm so grateful for family and friends who called, sent cards, sent text messages, and wrote on my facebook wall. (How great of an idea is the birthday reminder on facebook? Seriously every year I look forward to the online well wishes from friends. The cumulative effect of that many "happy birthdays" gives me the warm fuzzys.) I'm especially grateful for a husband who was thoughtful enough to take the day off work, take me out, buy me my favorite book, as well as the necklace that I try on every time I go into his store but never said anything about...he's good. Throughout the day he kept asking me what my ideal day would be. Because we love people questions like this usually end up being answered not by what we would do but rather by who we would be with. Trying to answer this question made me articulate the "in-between" stage I'm now in. We have lots of friends, but not one specific group we always hang out with. We have small groups of friends, but those groups aren't friends with each other. If I were to invite my friends to a dinner together I would be more concerned by everyone meeting one another and hitting it off with each other. During my ideal day answer I found myself listing off friends from college because this is the last time I remember us having so many mutual friends and being part of a group of people who all hung out together. I miss that. But I am 29 and some of my friends have kids and some do not. Some are married and some are not. Some live in the city and some live in the suburbs. Some go to church and some do not. This post college life stage looks different for everyone. In college everyone is in basically the same boat. After college there are so many more options like marriage, kids, career, dwelling and the time line varies for everyone. I have friends my age who are finished having kids and we haven't even started. I have friends my age who aren't dating anyone let alone married. This is an in-between stage. I wonder when or if it will level out again. At 40 is everyone suddenly in the same boat again? Probably not but who knows.
I like the diversity of my friends and our different time lines, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I'd love to have a solid group to belong to again. I'm excited to see what this year has in store and at the core of that the people I will share it with and the relationships that will develop.
So today was my birthday. It was very nice and I couldn't have asked for a better day all thanks to Daniel. He was thoughtful enough to take off work for the day even though I didn't ask for it off. Luckily my shift was just an "on call" and when I called in to see if they needed me they told me I wasn't needed. Perfect! We started off by surprising Daniel's dad at a Chamber of Commerce luncheon where he was named the Grand Marshall of Gladstone's Gladfest parade. It was a really sweet moment. Then we had lunch at The Farmhouse in City Market. Oh and I forgot to mention that when we got in my car this morning there was $5 on my windshield. At first I thought someone had hit my car and this was their "sorry" note. Is it horrible that my first instinct to something kind is that it is purely restitution for something bad? Then I thought maybe Daniel had put it there. Nope. So I'm not sure who the anonymous $5 is from, but it was fun and kind of exciting. I later spent that $5 to purchase cupcakes for me and Daniel from Baby Cakes after lunch. We headed home and I grabbed the book Daniel got me for a mid-afternoon read. Since we are adjusting to a new budget I am trying to save money where I previously would have spent without thought. As a result when the third and final book in the Hunger Games series came out, instead of purchasing it, I've been putting in time at the bookstore chipping away a chapter at a time. Daniel surprised me with the book at 12:01 last night knowing I would want to read it before bed. Now that I own it I get to read it whenever I want instead of when I have a spare hour to spend at the bookstore. So I read about 5 pages today before crashing for a cloudy day, post lunch nap. A birthday nap is the best kind of nap because you have no where to be and no one to tell you to get up because it's your birthday and people are usually pretty good about letting you do whatever you want on your birthday (like writing a run on sentence). We went to the West volleyball game to hang out with Young Life kids and then got ready for dinner. We went to Julian in Brookside. A friend from high school was our waiter and the food was just as great as the personal service.
I'm so grateful for family and friends who called, sent cards, sent text messages, and wrote on my facebook wall. (How great of an idea is the birthday reminder on facebook? Seriously every year I look forward to the online well wishes from friends. The cumulative effect of that many "happy birthdays" gives me the warm fuzzys.) I'm especially grateful for a husband who was thoughtful enough to take the day off work, take me out, buy me my favorite book, as well as the necklace that I try on every time I go into his store but never said anything about...he's good. Throughout the day he kept asking me what my ideal day would be. Because we love people questions like this usually end up being answered not by what we would do but rather by who we would be with. Trying to answer this question made me articulate the "in-between" stage I'm now in. We have lots of friends, but not one specific group we always hang out with. We have small groups of friends, but those groups aren't friends with each other. If I were to invite my friends to a dinner together I would be more concerned by everyone meeting one another and hitting it off with each other. During my ideal day answer I found myself listing off friends from college because this is the last time I remember us having so many mutual friends and being part of a group of people who all hung out together. I miss that. But I am 29 and some of my friends have kids and some do not. Some are married and some are not. Some live in the city and some live in the suburbs. Some go to church and some do not. This post college life stage looks different for everyone. In college everyone is in basically the same boat. After college there are so many more options like marriage, kids, career, dwelling and the time line varies for everyone. I have friends my age who are finished having kids and we haven't even started. I have friends my age who aren't dating anyone let alone married. This is an in-between stage. I wonder when or if it will level out again. At 40 is everyone suddenly in the same boat again? Probably not but who knows.
I like the diversity of my friends and our different time lines, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I'd love to have a solid group to belong to again. I'm excited to see what this year has in store and at the core of that the people I will share it with and the relationships that will develop.
Wednesday, September 22
Family Photo Shoot
After yesterday's embarrassing post and only one comment from Greg, my suspicion has been confirmed: no one reads my blog anymore other than Greg. That's okay though.
I experimented today with my birthday camera. Here are some of my favorite shots.
I experimented today with my birthday camera. Here are some of my favorite shots.
Tuesday, September 21
Secrets
I've got nothin' tonight, but I can't go to bed until I post so here goes...
This summer at camp we use the tool of Post Secret for one of our presentations. This got me thinking as to what I would confess as one of my secrets. Well I've got a pretty embarrassing one and since I coached 5 others at camp through sharing intimate details about their lives, the least I can do is divulge something embarrassing. They shared hard parts of their story and this is something silly, funny, so it certainly doesn't compare to what I asked them to share.
Whenever I use a public restroom that is a single stall (so one toilet, sink, and mirror all in one room) I wonder if the mirror is a two-way mirror giving someone on the other side a view of the restroom and a view of those using it during their "vulnerable" state. Weird huh? Not sure where this came from, but every time I'm in a restroom like that I think about it. So there it is. Crazy I know.
This summer at camp we use the tool of Post Secret for one of our presentations. This got me thinking as to what I would confess as one of my secrets. Well I've got a pretty embarrassing one and since I coached 5 others at camp through sharing intimate details about their lives, the least I can do is divulge something embarrassing. They shared hard parts of their story and this is something silly, funny, so it certainly doesn't compare to what I asked them to share.
Whenever I use a public restroom that is a single stall (so one toilet, sink, and mirror all in one room) I wonder if the mirror is a two-way mirror giving someone on the other side a view of the restroom and a view of those using it during their "vulnerable" state. Weird huh? Not sure where this came from, but every time I'm in a restroom like that I think about it. So there it is. Crazy I know.
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