The other night my friend Amy and I were having one of those great conversations that only the oldest of friends can do. I was cleaning up dinner and surfing the internet while she was changing a dirty diaper and getting her babies ready for bed. We had lots to catch up on and we somehow ended up on the subject of good parenting which led to a conversation about my coaching philosophy because it's really my only point of parenting reference. I was telling Amy a story about how my 7th grade volleyball athletes earned their spandex and new jerseys through hard work and showing their dedication and discipline. There was one day when my assistant coach and I were discussing my blow-up argument with the band director...
"Wait. You got in a fight with the band director? That's a story I want to hear" Amy interrupted.
She's right...it is a pretty interesting story. Forget about my volleyball players - let's hear about Laura's temper and stubborness!
One day the band director called down to the coaching office and asked for me to release my 7th grade volleyball players from afternoon practice without having to make it up so they could have ample time to go home and change and eat before their band concert that night. I told her that I would compromise and let them out at 4:45 because I wasn't going to give them up for one entire after school practice. A few more words were exchanged on the phone and my closing statement was "I'll just go speak with the principal." So there.
After frantically searching the school for my principal, he was nowhere to be found and I was forced to return to my coaching office, still fuming at the audacity of the band director to try and boss me around. I could practically feel my heels digging into the ground - there was no way I was going to let her push me around!
To my surprise when I walked in the office, she was casually standing against the file cabinet and looked at me sweetly (a sweetness that didn't quite reach her eyes, I might add) and said "Laura, I felt like I upset you on the phone."
With arms crossed I answered her "You did." Although to be quite honestly, I am sure it came out more of a growl than a polite reply.
To make a long story short, she and I are on opposite sides of the ideological fence which is perfectly fine...but that doesn't mean she gets to decide how I run my program. I had no problem with letting my athletes out of practice 45 minutes early but she was never going to tell me that I shouldn't make the band students make up practice when they miss an entire after school practice. Our conversation went round and round with each of us staunchly defending our point of view and with me at one point responding to her comments of a previously unsuccessful volleyball team with "Yeah...that's why I'm here." Ooh...that didn't go over real well with her...but quite frankly, I didn't care that much. Eventually our conversation ended with me suggesting that we take it to the principal since she and I couldn't come to a conclusion that both of us would be pleased with.
After she left I fumed and fussed about exactly WHY I was being so stubborn. Was it because I truly believed that I needed that 45 minutes with my kids after school? Yes...I did because on the typical day most "team" activities and drills are done directly after school because our classtime is spent warming up passing and serving. Was I being so stubborn because I really didn't like how she approached me and I just didn't want her to get her way? Well...maybe a little bit. Or did I truly believe that I was indeed compromising and doing what was best for those cream of the crop kids that are involved in several activities? Absolutely.
So I took my concerns to my principal and I began the conversation this way:
"I'll be totally honest with you Mr. Principal. My mom is half Italian and Cajun and sometimes when I'm caught off guard I won't be the nicest of people and unfortunately I wasn't."
I totally owned up to my less than courteous behavior, but I also defended my point of view and spelled out the bottom line for my principal: I am trying to compromise with her but I won't allow someone to dictate the philosophy that drives my program. And he agreed so that was that. It wasn't until I walked away that I realized I was shaking.
After relaying this story to Amy we started the "what's next" discussion. All through life our maturity and progression has been measured by learning certain lessons or reaching a new goal. Getting through adolescence meant knowing right from wrong, choosing the right friends and managing time well. Becoming a young adult meant paying bills on time, RSVPing when asked and knowing yourself. I can check all that off...now what?
I think the story I just told is a good example of the next bit of wisdom or life lesson that is ready for me to tackle: not just knowing myself but standing up for what I believe in even when it's not "lady like" or "proper." There are certainly times when stomping your foot down and saying "NO" isn't socially acceptable, but necessary to defend what you deem is right. Did I make a new friend at work through this interaction? Um...no...probably not. But did I stand up for what was best for my program and for my athletes and teams? Absolutely and that's what is important.
Showing posts with label Maturity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Maturity. Show all posts
Monday, November 2, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Freedom at a Price
Drinking in college was what I considered "fun" at the time. Sunday through Wednesday was spent in recovery from the debauchery of the previous weekend and in anticipation of the surprises that the upcoming weekend held. It was carefree and careless. I can remember feeling so free at the time - like I could do anything at a moments notice or be whoever I chose for a particular night. From spontaneous road trips to Austin to four inch hot pink stilettos with a denim mini skirt...I thought I was living the ultimate life.
But little did I know that the freedom I felt during college was due to being chained to one thing. Alcohol was everyone's best friend and the ultimate party planner. No Alcohol? No party. He was a man of many names (Jose, Jack and McCormick were my favorites) and never let you down on a Friday night. He talked you into trying new things and becoming a new person. Alcohol convinced you he needed him to have a good time. And for most of the time with Alcohol as a classmate in college, nights with no memories just felt like innocent fun.
I'm not sure where or why my old friend turned on me or when our friendship went wrong, but shortly after college I realized that he no longer gave me the same feelings of freedom that he did during my four years on campus. Instead of relishing in the endless possibilities that life after college offered, I began focusing on the life that I didn't have but desperately wanted. Alcohol began convincing me that I needed him in my life even more because I was so incredibly unlovable that he was the only one who would always be there. He made me lie to my friends and put on a happy face while crumbling on the inside at the sight of their contentment with their own lives. No one knew how dangerous our relationship had become because we were still in the age of innocent fun. Twenty-three was still young, fresh and free! What worries were there to have on a Friday night with new friends and the ever present college buddy?
About a year and a half ago, I woke up and found myself looking at a person I didn't recognize. What had my old buddy done to the girl I once was? That confident, determined and vivacious girl my parent's had so lovingly raised had been swallowed whole by the false promises and deceptive lies told by Alcohol. For the first time in my life, my old friend wasn't looking so cool, so fun or so enticing.
My life has changed because of ending that friendship or maybe because I ended that friendship my life has changed. Either way it's really not a part of my life anymore because I have found contentment in myself. I don't have to rely on Alcohol to make me feel better about myself or to fill the void that was at one time so painfully present.
The break in our friendship hasn't always been easy. Although it has allowed me to form new friendships I think it might be creating divisions in old. I understand that Alcohol might not have this same relationship with everyone, but unfortunately this is the relationship that I had and regardless of any situation...I'm going to protect what I've built. Because from what I personally know of Alcohol, he likes to destroy who I am and anything good I believe about myself. I'm not willing to allow him into my life in that capacity ever again.
Because for the first time in many years...
I am content. I am happy. I am finally and truly free.
But little did I know that the freedom I felt during college was due to being chained to one thing. Alcohol was everyone's best friend and the ultimate party planner. No Alcohol? No party. He was a man of many names (Jose, Jack and McCormick were my favorites) and never let you down on a Friday night. He talked you into trying new things and becoming a new person. Alcohol convinced you he needed him to have a good time. And for most of the time with Alcohol as a classmate in college, nights with no memories just felt like innocent fun.
I'm not sure where or why my old friend turned on me or when our friendship went wrong, but shortly after college I realized that he no longer gave me the same feelings of freedom that he did during my four years on campus. Instead of relishing in the endless possibilities that life after college offered, I began focusing on the life that I didn't have but desperately wanted. Alcohol began convincing me that I needed him in my life even more because I was so incredibly unlovable that he was the only one who would always be there. He made me lie to my friends and put on a happy face while crumbling on the inside at the sight of their contentment with their own lives. No one knew how dangerous our relationship had become because we were still in the age of innocent fun. Twenty-three was still young, fresh and free! What worries were there to have on a Friday night with new friends and the ever present college buddy?
About a year and a half ago, I woke up and found myself looking at a person I didn't recognize. What had my old buddy done to the girl I once was? That confident, determined and vivacious girl my parent's had so lovingly raised had been swallowed whole by the false promises and deceptive lies told by Alcohol. For the first time in my life, my old friend wasn't looking so cool, so fun or so enticing.
My life has changed because of ending that friendship or maybe because I ended that friendship my life has changed. Either way it's really not a part of my life anymore because I have found contentment in myself. I don't have to rely on Alcohol to make me feel better about myself or to fill the void that was at one time so painfully present.
The break in our friendship hasn't always been easy. Although it has allowed me to form new friendships I think it might be creating divisions in old. I understand that Alcohol might not have this same relationship with everyone, but unfortunately this is the relationship that I had and regardless of any situation...I'm going to protect what I've built. Because from what I personally know of Alcohol, he likes to destroy who I am and anything good I believe about myself. I'm not willing to allow him into my life in that capacity ever again.
Because for the first time in many years...
I am content. I am happy. I am finally and truly free.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
What...a change.
A few years ago a typical weekend for me consisted of a late and crazy Friday night in downtown Ft. Worth, sleeping til noon and then staying in jammies until time to repeat the whole process on Saturday night and into Sunday. But on Sunday, I usually felt the need to update my wardrobe after seeing other girls out the previous nights so I would drag myself out of bed and head to the mall. Needless to say, my apartment was never very clean and I never accomplished much more than depleting my checking account.
Fast forward to the present tense and read the details of this past weekend.
- Thursday night: Drove to Lamar Middle School to watch Craig coach Division I in the first round of the district tournament.
- Friday night: Worked the scorer's table at my school for the second round of the district tournament. Nearly had a fatal heart attack when Craig's team was down fourteen points at the end of the third quarter, but yet came back to win by eight.
- Saturday: Woke up when Craig left at nine to go to the tourney and I couldn't fall asleep again. I was at the tourney by 1:15 with my and Craig's family to watch the third round of the championship, which he won quite easily. I then had to sit through an intermediary game before the final Division I championship game but luckily I had Beri by me to keep me company. So finally the game starts and within two minutes of the start Craig has received a technical foul. Fantastic. I didn't really see the actual foul given because I had by then buried my head in my hands...I can't stand to see him be a jerk, despite his reasons of protecting his players from crap calls and refs. This game turned out to be another cardiac arrest inducing game with it coming down to a "down by one, two free throws and five seconds left in the game" situation. Good grief. I would love to say that I remember those two free throws vividly, but once again my head was buried in my hands out of sheer terror. Keep in mind, Craig won the district tournament last year and went 6-1 this season with these girls...and I had to go home with him if they lost. So after the majority of the stands cheered twice, I figured it was safe to look up and I did just in time to see the other team inbound the ball, push it down the court, and finally...right at the buzzer...a shot goes up---and in the basket---and then miraculously out again. Our girls had done it - back to back district championships. Now...I know that it's only middle school basketball, but our district alone has 15 middle schools so to be district champs two years in a row is a pretty amazing feat. Upon returning home and receiving my congratulations, Craig just shook his head and said that it wasn't him and he immediately put the kudos on the girls...after all they were the ones on the court. True. And from being a coach I know that you can have all the strategy in the world and have great knowledge of the game...but if the kids can't or won't perform all your efforts are wasted. BUT...I know that Craig is a great coach and knows how to manage his team, the players and the flow of the game well which resulted in allowing his girls to have the tools to win. Anyways. After he rested for about an hour, we went to Outback Steakhouse because, apparently winning makes him crave red meat. I didn't care and we ended up having a pretty good dinner sitting at the bar because we weren't wanting to wait an hour and a half just to sit at a table. On the way home we stopped at Baskin Robbins and had some ice cream. We were both exhausted from the day and sacked out asleep before the hour hand clicked to double digits.
- Sunday: We were both awake before nine, but not really moving so we were lazy and laid around in bed, catching up on the internet and on DVR before heading out to brunch around 11:00. When we got home Craig had to get ready for the second day of his select basketball team tryouts and he left shortly after noon to get the gyms set up at school. I was determined to have him proud of the work I accomplished during the day when he got home in the evening so I set about completing the four loads of laundry sitting in baskets in the closet as well as making a list for grocery shopping later. I'm not sure why (and maybe I'll feel differently in five years) but I absolutely love grocery shopping. I love going through the pantry and the refridgerator throwing stuff out and making a list of things we need. I love getting in the car and having an ancient neolithic feeling rise up in my body. "Must get food. Craig need food." You know, the hunter/gatherer type thing. I'm not spearing a mastodon with a handmade javelin or anything. But wading through the unlimited choices that Tom Thumb provides can be quite the jungle. And without my list I really am lost and will end up buying everything to make a lasagna...except the noodles. By the time Craig returned around 7:30 I had washed, dried, folded and put away four loads of laundry, grocery shopped and put them away and ALSO baked a dozen big, fat chocolate chip cookies as a congratulatory present to Craig.
I don't know if you're seeing a bit of a difference between my life "then" and "now" but there is. I'm more and more beginning to see my future and many of the weekends and nights will revolve around basketball and tournaments. Last week when I was a bit more emotional I had a minor breakdown about becoming just a "coaches wife" and losing my identity along the way of supporting him and raising children. He assured me that I could make myself into anything I wanted (or more importantly DIDN'T want) to be.
Fast forward to the present tense and read the details of this past weekend.
- Thursday night: Drove to Lamar Middle School to watch Craig coach Division I in the first round of the district tournament.
- Friday night: Worked the scorer's table at my school for the second round of the district tournament. Nearly had a fatal heart attack when Craig's team was down fourteen points at the end of the third quarter, but yet came back to win by eight.
- Saturday: Woke up when Craig left at nine to go to the tourney and I couldn't fall asleep again. I was at the tourney by 1:15 with my and Craig's family to watch the third round of the championship, which he won quite easily. I then had to sit through an intermediary game before the final Division I championship game but luckily I had Beri by me to keep me company. So finally the game starts and within two minutes of the start Craig has received a technical foul. Fantastic. I didn't really see the actual foul given because I had by then buried my head in my hands...I can't stand to see him be a jerk, despite his reasons of protecting his players from crap calls and refs. This game turned out to be another cardiac arrest inducing game with it coming down to a "down by one, two free throws and five seconds left in the game" situation. Good grief. I would love to say that I remember those two free throws vividly, but once again my head was buried in my hands out of sheer terror. Keep in mind, Craig won the district tournament last year and went 6-1 this season with these girls...and I had to go home with him if they lost. So after the majority of the stands cheered twice, I figured it was safe to look up and I did just in time to see the other team inbound the ball, push it down the court, and finally...right at the buzzer...a shot goes up---and in the basket---and then miraculously out again. Our girls had done it - back to back district championships. Now...I know that it's only middle school basketball, but our district alone has 15 middle schools so to be district champs two years in a row is a pretty amazing feat. Upon returning home and receiving my congratulations, Craig just shook his head and said that it wasn't him and he immediately put the kudos on the girls...after all they were the ones on the court. True. And from being a coach I know that you can have all the strategy in the world and have great knowledge of the game...but if the kids can't or won't perform all your efforts are wasted. BUT...I know that Craig is a great coach and knows how to manage his team, the players and the flow of the game well which resulted in allowing his girls to have the tools to win. Anyways. After he rested for about an hour, we went to Outback Steakhouse because, apparently winning makes him crave red meat. I didn't care and we ended up having a pretty good dinner sitting at the bar because we weren't wanting to wait an hour and a half just to sit at a table. On the way home we stopped at Baskin Robbins and had some ice cream. We were both exhausted from the day and sacked out asleep before the hour hand clicked to double digits.
- Sunday: We were both awake before nine, but not really moving so we were lazy and laid around in bed, catching up on the internet and on DVR before heading out to brunch around 11:00. When we got home Craig had to get ready for the second day of his select basketball team tryouts and he left shortly after noon to get the gyms set up at school. I was determined to have him proud of the work I accomplished during the day when he got home in the evening so I set about completing the four loads of laundry sitting in baskets in the closet as well as making a list for grocery shopping later. I'm not sure why (and maybe I'll feel differently in five years) but I absolutely love grocery shopping. I love going through the pantry and the refridgerator throwing stuff out and making a list of things we need. I love getting in the car and having an ancient neolithic feeling rise up in my body. "Must get food. Craig need food." You know, the hunter/gatherer type thing. I'm not spearing a mastodon with a handmade javelin or anything. But wading through the unlimited choices that Tom Thumb provides can be quite the jungle. And without my list I really am lost and will end up buying everything to make a lasagna...except the noodles. By the time Craig returned around 7:30 I had washed, dried, folded and put away four loads of laundry, grocery shopped and put them away and ALSO baked a dozen big, fat chocolate chip cookies as a congratulatory present to Craig.
I don't know if you're seeing a bit of a difference between my life "then" and "now" but there is. I'm more and more beginning to see my future and many of the weekends and nights will revolve around basketball and tournaments. Last week when I was a bit more emotional I had a minor breakdown about becoming just a "coaches wife" and losing my identity along the way of supporting him and raising children. He assured me that I could make myself into anything I wanted (or more importantly DIDN'T want) to be.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Generation Gap
I'm sitting in my bed, feeling a little bit under the weather, watching the VMA's...and I'm just a little bit confused.
What do young women find attractive in the Jonas Brothers? I just don't understand the skinny girl jeans, out of control and overly styled curly hair, and their slight traces of eyeliner. What is attractive about that?! They're so....androgynous...weird.
And then, what comes up next? A young man jumping around on the stage dancing half naked with his pants around his knees. I don't want to see his boxer-briefs! And then the worst part - half of his song had to be muted out because it was full of cursing. What's the point of even performing if your song is lost on all the viewers nationwide?
Yeah. I know, I know. It's not like the pop stars and performers of my generation did much better. Remember Britney and the snake?! Or Britney and Madonna?! Or Britney at all in the past few years?! I mean, maybe there was something a little ridiculous about five guys in a boy band dancing around in unison to slightly cheesy pop songs...but at least they were fully dressed and their lyrics could be enjoyed by everyone and not censored because of foul language.
In essence what I'm trying to say is...where's the wholesomeness?!
Okay. I know that I'm talking about MTV - not exactly breeding ground for the Conservative Christian Coalition, but I KNOW that my impressionable middle school students are sitting around watching the very same VMA's that I am and I must wonder - how is this affecting their idea of fashion and what they deem is acceptable behavior?
On a different topic, but somewhat related...I watched the new 90210 last week, as well as the season premiere of Gossip Girl. Not because I'm really "into" either show, but I had to see what all the hype was about. On the subject of 90210, I wasn't interested in watching it when it first came out because I was still mostly in the Full House age demographic. As I grew older, Brenda and Kelly became a staple in my Wednesday night television repetoire. I was wholly anticipating a completely crap version of an old classic. And I was not let down! I must admit - a little shiver of anticipation and nostalgia ran down my back when the signature "dun nuh nuh nuh...dun nuh nuh nuh" came on. But...the rest of the show - take it or leave it. The strangest thing is that the kids that are in middle or high school watching this version of the show have absolutely NO idea the impact that 90210 had on the older generation.
On a side note of the generation gap between me and my students...as far as they're concerned and according to one onry young man - Green Day has been around since 2000 or so. Oh. And they're from Ireland because of the "green" in the name. He looked throroughly confused when I corrected him and informed him of Green Day's birth in southern California in the late 1980s and fame in the early 1990s...as well as their musical journey from hard core West Coast punk to the more mainstream rock-punk breed.
So, then a few days later I watched the season premiere of Gossip Girl. Having never watched a single episode, I had to see what all those steamy ads are about. At the end of the hour, I was convinced I had seen this show somewhere before. After some thinking it came to me. Cruel Intentions + The OC!
So...basically the teenage drama has never gone away. 90210 (the original), Dawson's Creek, The OC and now Gossip Girl. And I also guess that
I know that I'm sounding conservative right now and I have to be clear on things. I work with kids and I see the negative effects of the advanced teen culture...some of them seem like little adults and not the 13 year olds that they are. I hate the fact that they have to grow up so fast - there are so many experiences that they will get to have...but in time and when they are old enough and have the maturity to truly handle it in the best way possible. I think back to what kids my age were doing when I was in middle and high school and all I can remember is how "old" we thought we were at 14 and 15 years old. We got into things that we didn't know how to handle and we didn't understand the future consequences of our actions. Not just the tangible and physical consequences...but the emotional impact it made. I became so cynical and jaded by the age of 20..that's ridiculous and unnecessary! I just want to shake some of them, especially the 8th grade girls, and wipe their pretty little faces of all the ill applied make-up, and put some better fitting and more covering clothing on them. I almost feel, well not sorry for them, but I do pity them in a way. Having to feel so much pressure at such a young age to live up to what society is shoving at them. I don't remember having that pressure from the media at that age. We didn't have the Miley's, the Serena's and the Demi's...yeah, there was N'Sync and Britney, but they were when I was a bit older - high school at least. I don't know. I just don't remember being like such a little adult while I was in middle school.
It kills me to admit that I'm feeling something soooo conservative when, for the past few years, I have prided myself on being an open-minded person and fairly liberal when it comes to my political views. But this goes beyond being left or right - it's about protecting children from things they don't understand or aren't ready for.
BUT, having said that about teenagers and their current culture, I don't believe that it's ALL bad news and influences...I must admit that I totally love the family friendly High School Musical. Plus. Who didn't wish their high school classmates would spontaneously burst into song?!
What do young women find attractive in the Jonas Brothers? I just don't understand the skinny girl jeans, out of control and overly styled curly hair, and their slight traces of eyeliner. What is attractive about that?! They're so....androgynous...weird.
And then, what comes up next? A young man jumping around on the stage dancing half naked with his pants around his knees. I don't want to see his boxer-briefs! And then the worst part - half of his song had to be muted out because it was full of cursing. What's the point of even performing if your song is lost on all the viewers nationwide?
Yeah. I know, I know. It's not like the pop stars and performers of my generation did much better. Remember Britney and the snake?! Or Britney and Madonna?! Or Britney at all in the past few years?! I mean, maybe there was something a little ridiculous about five guys in a boy band dancing around in unison to slightly cheesy pop songs...but at least they were fully dressed and their lyrics could be enjoyed by everyone and not censored because of foul language.
In essence what I'm trying to say is...where's the wholesomeness?!
Okay. I know that I'm talking about MTV - not exactly breeding ground for the Conservative Christian Coalition, but I KNOW that my impressionable middle school students are sitting around watching the very same VMA's that I am and I must wonder - how is this affecting their idea of fashion and what they deem is acceptable behavior?
On a different topic, but somewhat related...I watched the new 90210 last week, as well as the season premiere of Gossip Girl. Not because I'm really "into" either show, but I had to see what all the hype was about. On the subject of 90210, I wasn't interested in watching it when it first came out because I was still mostly in the Full House age demographic. As I grew older, Brenda and Kelly became a staple in my Wednesday night television repetoire. I was wholly anticipating a completely crap version of an old classic. And I was not let down! I must admit - a little shiver of anticipation and nostalgia ran down my back when the signature "dun nuh nuh nuh...dun nuh nuh nuh" came on. But...the rest of the show - take it or leave it. The strangest thing is that the kids that are in middle or high school watching this version of the show have absolutely NO idea the impact that 90210 had on the older generation.
On a side note of the generation gap between me and my students...as far as they're concerned and according to one onry young man - Green Day has been around since 2000 or so. Oh. And they're from Ireland because of the "green" in the name. He looked throroughly confused when I corrected him and informed him of Green Day's birth in southern California in the late 1980s and fame in the early 1990s...as well as their musical journey from hard core West Coast punk to the more mainstream rock-punk breed.
So, then a few days later I watched the season premiere of Gossip Girl. Having never watched a single episode, I had to see what all those steamy ads are about. At the end of the hour, I was convinced I had seen this show somewhere before. After some thinking it came to me. Cruel Intentions + The OC!
So...basically the teenage drama has never gone away. 90210 (the original), Dawson's Creek, The OC and now Gossip Girl. And I also guess that
I know that I'm sounding conservative right now and I have to be clear on things. I work with kids and I see the negative effects of the advanced teen culture...some of them seem like little adults and not the 13 year olds that they are. I hate the fact that they have to grow up so fast - there are so many experiences that they will get to have...but in time and when they are old enough and have the maturity to truly handle it in the best way possible. I think back to what kids my age were doing when I was in middle and high school and all I can remember is how "old" we thought we were at 14 and 15 years old. We got into things that we didn't know how to handle and we didn't understand the future consequences of our actions. Not just the tangible and physical consequences...but the emotional impact it made. I became so cynical and jaded by the age of 20..that's ridiculous and unnecessary! I just want to shake some of them, especially the 8th grade girls, and wipe their pretty little faces of all the ill applied make-up, and put some better fitting and more covering clothing on them. I almost feel, well not sorry for them, but I do pity them in a way. Having to feel so much pressure at such a young age to live up to what society is shoving at them. I don't remember having that pressure from the media at that age. We didn't have the Miley's, the Serena's and the Demi's...yeah, there was N'Sync and Britney, but they were when I was a bit older - high school at least. I don't know. I just don't remember being like such a little adult while I was in middle school.
It kills me to admit that I'm feeling something soooo conservative when, for the past few years, I have prided myself on being an open-minded person and fairly liberal when it comes to my political views. But this goes beyond being left or right - it's about protecting children from things they don't understand or aren't ready for.
BUT, having said that about teenagers and their current culture, I don't believe that it's ALL bad news and influences...I must admit that I totally love the family friendly High School Musical. Plus. Who didn't wish their high school classmates would spontaneously burst into song?!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
New Year, New Me?!
I'm beginning my 4th year of teaching this week and I must admit that it kind of tripped me out at first. I remember being the "baby" of the faculty...just kind of floating along and letting people take care of things for me. Coincidentally much like the same way I lived my life when I was younger and the "baby" of the family. In my first full year at the school I teach at, I was the bubbly, outgoing and eager young teacher - always up for a happy hour and trying to make everyone like me. To a certain extent, I still felt that same "youngness" last year even though it was my 3rd year teaching.
But something in the past year has switched. I've changed...no...I've evolved. Feel free to disagree, but I feel that I have gained a level of maturity about what is important in my life and where my priorities lie. My circle of friends at work has grown smaller, but closer. The number of evenings and nights out has diminished greatly, but yet the contentment and satisfaction in my life has flourished.
I look back on the girl who started teaching 3 years ago and I imagine her as a little girl dressed up in her mother's clothes. I was trying so desperately to figure out my place in the grownup world, but I ended up realizing that you can't "find" your place in the world - you have to create the person you want to be. I feel like I honestly had an awakening in the past year as to what is truly important...
- the fact that a person brought you your favorite meal from Taco Bueno because you sprained your ankle.
- giving kids the benefit of the doubt and showing compassion and concern.
- spending time with the family...thanks to my appendix I remembered how good it feels to just be in my parent's presence (and home cooking!).
- friends that know if you don't talk for awhile it's nothing personal...everybody's life is getting busier but that doesn't mean they don't come running when you need them.
- being myself.
I feel as if I've started another year at the school, but people expect me to be the same crazy girl that I used to be.
Case in point: it was my appendix - NOT a hangover!!! :)
To a certain extent, I'm embarrased of the person that I used to be - because she was completely out of control and incredibly immature. Not to say that I'm not still immature. I can't help but giggle everytime someone says the word "balls," which is unfortunate since I do coach volleyball...
Regardless, there has been a major shift in my outlook, my persona, my interactions with people, my level of commitment, and my priorities.
Wow, you must be thinking. Where did all this come from?
Let me tell you - he's a pretty inspiring person. He has inspired me to completely be myself and cherish who I am. He has challenged me to approach life's sticky and uncomfortable situations with maturity, dignity and grace...yet allowed me a safe place to be completely silly. I haven't CHANGED who I am or what I believe in by any means. I think he's just encouraged me to be my "adult" self.
Of course, there have been other contributors - I couldn't have done it without three very important co-workers. Women who have not too long ago been in my position. All three who have come from entirely different backgrounds, lifestyles and mindsets...yet are all incredibly successful and supportive of my personal growth. I have really looked to them as to how to not only handle the professional world, but find balance and contentment in my personal life as well. I hope that they have seen a growth in me...and I hope they know how grateful I am that they took the time to help me along the way.
It's almost as if I have women in my life showing me along the way of who I am at the present time, ten years down the road or so, and then the ultimate impact I want to leave on the world.
In the present, my personal friends - the ones with whom I shop, eat, drink and lean on. They cultivate the persona that I am right now...and as we get older, we will all mature at more or less the same rate. They almost serve as a mirror as to my position in life - the fears, frustrations, challenges and triumphs of being in your mid twenties. We experience everything together and find our way through this grown up world by leaning on each other.
Then there are my co-workers, most of whom are approximately 5 to 10 years older than me. Generally married and some starting families. They show me my nearest goals - what I want to be in ten years. Married, successful, confident, compassionate, fun....and content with who they are and their place in this world.
And then we come to my mother and grandma. Two women that have had several lifetimes of experience and learning. They embrace life and all it's challenges, quirkiness, irony, gloriousness and beauty. There is no experience that they do not learn and grow from...nor is there one that they haven't endured with grace, dignity and a wry sense of humor. I want to eventually be their age and look back at my life with a triumphant and satisfied smile at the life I have lead.
So...in conclusion...I have a lot of people to be grateful to in my life. More people than could actually fit in this blog at this point in time (I do have to get up early tomorrow!). I can't forget my patient and hard working father, nor my playful and protective big brothers. But those shout outs must come at a later time. I have the youth of America to raise at a VERY early time in the morning.
But something in the past year has switched. I've changed...no...I've evolved. Feel free to disagree, but I feel that I have gained a level of maturity about what is important in my life and where my priorities lie. My circle of friends at work has grown smaller, but closer. The number of evenings and nights out has diminished greatly, but yet the contentment and satisfaction in my life has flourished.
I look back on the girl who started teaching 3 years ago and I imagine her as a little girl dressed up in her mother's clothes. I was trying so desperately to figure out my place in the grownup world, but I ended up realizing that you can't "find" your place in the world - you have to create the person you want to be. I feel like I honestly had an awakening in the past year as to what is truly important...
- the fact that a person brought you your favorite meal from Taco Bueno because you sprained your ankle.
- giving kids the benefit of the doubt and showing compassion and concern.
- spending time with the family...thanks to my appendix I remembered how good it feels to just be in my parent's presence (and home cooking!).
- friends that know if you don't talk for awhile it's nothing personal...everybody's life is getting busier but that doesn't mean they don't come running when you need them.
- being myself.
I feel as if I've started another year at the school, but people expect me to be the same crazy girl that I used to be.
Case in point: it was my appendix - NOT a hangover!!! :)
To a certain extent, I'm embarrased of the person that I used to be - because she was completely out of control and incredibly immature. Not to say that I'm not still immature. I can't help but giggle everytime someone says the word "balls," which is unfortunate since I do coach volleyball...
Regardless, there has been a major shift in my outlook, my persona, my interactions with people, my level of commitment, and my priorities.
Wow, you must be thinking. Where did all this come from?
Let me tell you - he's a pretty inspiring person. He has inspired me to completely be myself and cherish who I am. He has challenged me to approach life's sticky and uncomfortable situations with maturity, dignity and grace...yet allowed me a safe place to be completely silly. I haven't CHANGED who I am or what I believe in by any means. I think he's just encouraged me to be my "adult" self.
Of course, there have been other contributors - I couldn't have done it without three very important co-workers. Women who have not too long ago been in my position. All three who have come from entirely different backgrounds, lifestyles and mindsets...yet are all incredibly successful and supportive of my personal growth. I have really looked to them as to how to not only handle the professional world, but find balance and contentment in my personal life as well. I hope that they have seen a growth in me...and I hope they know how grateful I am that they took the time to help me along the way.
It's almost as if I have women in my life showing me along the way of who I am at the present time, ten years down the road or so, and then the ultimate impact I want to leave on the world.
In the present, my personal friends - the ones with whom I shop, eat, drink and lean on. They cultivate the persona that I am right now...and as we get older, we will all mature at more or less the same rate. They almost serve as a mirror as to my position in life - the fears, frustrations, challenges and triumphs of being in your mid twenties. We experience everything together and find our way through this grown up world by leaning on each other.
Then there are my co-workers, most of whom are approximately 5 to 10 years older than me. Generally married and some starting families. They show me my nearest goals - what I want to be in ten years. Married, successful, confident, compassionate, fun....and content with who they are and their place in this world.
And then we come to my mother and grandma. Two women that have had several lifetimes of experience and learning. They embrace life and all it's challenges, quirkiness, irony, gloriousness and beauty. There is no experience that they do not learn and grow from...nor is there one that they haven't endured with grace, dignity and a wry sense of humor. I want to eventually be their age and look back at my life with a triumphant and satisfied smile at the life I have lead.
So...in conclusion...I have a lot of people to be grateful to in my life. More people than could actually fit in this blog at this point in time (I do have to get up early tomorrow!). I can't forget my patient and hard working father, nor my playful and protective big brothers. But those shout outs must come at a later time. I have the youth of America to raise at a VERY early time in the morning.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Living in the NOW
First of all, I've got big news. HUGE NEWS!!!
I finally got internet, cable and DVR at my apartment!!! I know, I know. Like the ATT guy told me at the store - shouldn't I be part of the generation that is always connected and really into technology? Well, I probably should be but I could never really get into it - getting it set up just seemed like a lot of confusing work for me. But, in the effort of becoming a real grown up, I bit the bullet and signed my life away to the internet company. I now have a laptop (earned through work, but a computer nonetheless) and wireless internet! I must admit, after it all got set up and my computer was sitting on my desk quietly humming away, I had visions of Carrie Bradshaw-esqe writing. You know, sitting at my desk in a quiet and serene apartment, looking out the window at the busy New York (okay maybe not that part) landscape contemplating life, love and relationships.
As those of you who know me, the last few weeks of teaching this year were rather rough. Just the stress of making kids study for exams who REALLY would rather not be studying combined with the monotony of actually monitoring kids studying and taking exams was exhausting enough. Factor that in with a boyfriend (yes - a real boyfriend for more than three months, more on that later) who in addition to his teaching position also has a hectic and demanding outside job...it was just plain rough. But summer vacation has come and settled in. I have made a resolution each day to leave my apartment for some substantial amount of time. Whether it's going down to the pool to get some sun or running errands, I must leave my apartment so that I don't turn into a complete mushpot. It has worked out pretty well for me so far. My apartment is staying clean and the laundry is getting done. And I'm going to Florida next week for a little relaxation. Everything is pretty good.
Okay. This guy. We've been together since late February, and by my calculations that's almost four months. It feels like a lot longer, but not in the bad way. We've been very good friends for over a year and for a lot of it there were these strange back and forth flirtations and feelings...very much a yo yo. I knew I loved him as a friend, but could I love him in a romantical sense of the word? Could we actually form a functioning adult relationship without ruining our well built friendship?
I hemmed and hawed. I put off his advances and his confrontations about how he knew that we could be good together - why wouldn't I just give him a chance? For some reason, I still had those hesitations - I was stuck back in the college mindset. What would people think? He's ten years older than me and has a Rebel Without A Cause attitude when it comes to what other people think of him. He can be rough around the edges if you don't know him. He lives in Adidas t-shirts and gym shorts. But I knew there was something about him. The way he could make me laugh and that slighty cocky sparkle in his eyes when he worked a giggle out of me (most of the time, against my better judgment). The way he would cut through the crap that sometimes spews out of my mouth and force me to see the clear picture. Ordinarily, I would balk at someone calling me out like he can...but from him, I somehow appreciate it and rise to the challenge of being completely honest and true to myself and with myself. The way he is passionate about his work, his friends and his family. It was all there for me to take---I just had to get over my own insecurities.
So I worked on it. I saw myself separate from that girl I was in college. I realized that I shouldn't care about what those "Mean Girls" thought of me or my life, because I didn't want any part of their lifestyle either. I wanted realness. I wanted to be the type of woman Oprah preaches about. So I quit worrying about living my life to make everyone else happy and started doing things that made me happy. I gave up drinking for awhile and I hung out with him. As my best friend. Went to sporting events, saw movies...just hung out. And yet, I couldn't break that friendship barrier. Instead of worrying about what other people thought, I began wondering - would I be ruining another friendship with trying to make it fit into a relationship? I tried that with Justin and it took over a year to rekindle a basic friendship with him....
On February 20th, I was still contemplating these thoughts and flitting around in my brain were all the possible outcomes of a full blown relationship with this guy. And then I fell. And sprained my ankle. Like my knight in shining white Nike's, he took care of me, despite my pleas of "I can take care of myself." Have you ever tried to get up three flights of stairs on crutches? Yeah...I needed help. And without ever asking for anything in return, he jumped in head first to take care of me. Fixing my couch pillows, bringing me dinner and making sure I made it into bed okay. It was those moments that I knew. He truly loved me and cared about my overall sense of well being. Plus...he thinks I'm pretty funny (but he won't admit it). I guess the rest is history.
Yeah, the past four months haven't all been roses and sunshine...we're both pretty stubborn and hard headed. But I want him in my life because he makes me laugh. Not that girly little giggle, but the head back, mouth open, full on belly roar. He makes me want to be the best ME I can be. So, I'm learning to compromise. I'm learning to understand him, despite his lack of using words. I'm learning to stand up for what I want and need in a relationship without being...well...demanding and needy. I'm learning to relax and just enjoy sitting next to him on the couch watching tv. Not thinking about the future and not worrying about the past - but just enjoying being with him in the present.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Graduation doesn't mean education...
The WE network on television (yes I do watch it...even better - I ENJOY it!) has an interesting show on Monday nights called High School Confidential which chronicles the lives of several teenage girls throughout the four years of high school. In watching this show, I am in somewhat of a purgatorial position. Although I graduated high school almost 7 years ago, I don't feel much older than I did at 18 when I graduated. In some ways, I feel much younger. Graduating high school, I felt on top of the world. I had completed my mandatory 12 years of public education. Technically, I had learned everything the state felt was necessary to produce a functioning human being, and I did it quite well; graduating with honors while escaping minimal reputation tarnsh and with a fair amount of trust and respect from my parents. I had everything figured out - relationships, finances, friendships, religion and politics...nothing was going to change. I was ready to take on the world and I had every confidence that my life was going to be charmed and special.
I was a tad bit naive.
The premise of the show is to follow these girls throughout their high school years and document the different experiences the girls have navigating a large high school, which is eerily similar to the one I attended. There are some girls on the show that I would have been friends with - the girls that were involved and moderately popular in school, but struggled with the battle of good and poor life decisions. There are some girls on the show that, unfortunately, I would never have known existed in my school. Looking through my senior yearbook at all the names and faces that are utterly unrecognizable are a testament to this fact.
I entered the 10th grade with the facade of a hopeless gooy-two-shoes involved in every activity and a head full of possibilities. I graduated my senior year a little bit more cynical and a lot more cautious. In the years that have followed, I have realized that while everyone might grow older, not everyone truly matures. And maturity means a significant more than suppressing giggles during sex scenes and being able to sufficiently hold your liquor.
How have I changed since high school? And have these changes produced a mature adult?
I guess I'll have to start with my definition of an "adult."
Being an adult means...
- resisiting the urge to audition for the Real World because you realize these kids stay up way past your bedtime.
- flipping past the Top 40 and hip hop radio stations because as an evolving woman and human being "apple bottom jeans and boots with the fur" are no longer an acceptable part of my wardrobe.
- finally understanding what my parents meant when they said "nothing good ever happens after midnight." Except for Conan O'Brien of course.
In all honesty, when I graduated high school I defined "adulthood" as having a real job and paying bills...on time. Adulthood isn't a checklist you can evaluate a year after graduating high school or college. It's not a gold starred diploma that arrives in the mail once you've secured your first IRA. You won't find a clause on your marriage or child's birth certificate stating that in signing these papers you have earned the title of "ADULT."
So, am I an adult yet? Well, I've certainly grown in the seven years since I graduated high school. I redefined what I need and want in friendships. I don't have nearly the circle of friends I had in high school and college, but yet the few people that are in my Circle of Trust are incredibly supportive and fulfilling relationships. I am slowly learning that a person's worth cannot be measured by the amount of clothes in a closet, but instead by the positive impact made on the surrounding environment and people. I know now that life isn't a competition to win at EVERYTHING...because that person who is always stressed about being the best and having everything first will most likely reach the ultimate finish line earliest...and have nothing memorable to show for it. I am learning to see the forest and not the individual trees. I am learning that I am my own person and I must live my life to make only myself happy. If I am confident that I am making the best life decision for myself, then that's all that matters.
And yes, I have also learned to pay the bills on time.
I was a tad bit naive.
The premise of the show is to follow these girls throughout their high school years and document the different experiences the girls have navigating a large high school, which is eerily similar to the one I attended. There are some girls on the show that I would have been friends with - the girls that were involved and moderately popular in school, but struggled with the battle of good and poor life decisions. There are some girls on the show that, unfortunately, I would never have known existed in my school. Looking through my senior yearbook at all the names and faces that are utterly unrecognizable are a testament to this fact.
I entered the 10th grade with the facade of a hopeless gooy-two-shoes involved in every activity and a head full of possibilities. I graduated my senior year a little bit more cynical and a lot more cautious. In the years that have followed, I have realized that while everyone might grow older, not everyone truly matures. And maturity means a significant more than suppressing giggles during sex scenes and being able to sufficiently hold your liquor.
How have I changed since high school? And have these changes produced a mature adult?
I guess I'll have to start with my definition of an "adult."
Being an adult means...
- resisiting the urge to audition for the Real World because you realize these kids stay up way past your bedtime.
- flipping past the Top 40 and hip hop radio stations because as an evolving woman and human being "apple bottom jeans and boots with the fur" are no longer an acceptable part of my wardrobe.
- finally understanding what my parents meant when they said "nothing good ever happens after midnight." Except for Conan O'Brien of course.
In all honesty, when I graduated high school I defined "adulthood" as having a real job and paying bills...on time. Adulthood isn't a checklist you can evaluate a year after graduating high school or college. It's not a gold starred diploma that arrives in the mail once you've secured your first IRA. You won't find a clause on your marriage or child's birth certificate stating that in signing these papers you have earned the title of "ADULT."
So, am I an adult yet? Well, I've certainly grown in the seven years since I graduated high school. I redefined what I need and want in friendships. I don't have nearly the circle of friends I had in high school and college, but yet the few people that are in my Circle of Trust are incredibly supportive and fulfilling relationships. I am slowly learning that a person's worth cannot be measured by the amount of clothes in a closet, but instead by the positive impact made on the surrounding environment and people. I know now that life isn't a competition to win at EVERYTHING...because that person who is always stressed about being the best and having everything first will most likely reach the ultimate finish line earliest...and have nothing memorable to show for it. I am learning to see the forest and not the individual trees. I am learning that I am my own person and I must live my life to make only myself happy. If I am confident that I am making the best life decision for myself, then that's all that matters.
And yes, I have also learned to pay the bills on time.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Cleaning House - random thoughts
For every 5 college roommate horror stories you hear, there is always a person who absolutely loved their roommate. I am that person. Times three. I was very lucky with my freshman dorm pot luck roommate Miranda - I never saw her. Then I lived for two years with Elaine the UNT soccer player, who was very different from me, but yet the balance worked. Last was Lauren who had transfered from Tech and loved to dance around our living room to Madonna with me. I got very lucky. Or maybe I'm just a good judge of character. Either way, I still keep in contact with both Elaine and Lauren. Since Elaine is currently in Russia studying Russian, our contact for the past few months has been via internet - Facebook and such. She is an avid reader of my blog and offered up this tidbit of wit and wisdom regarding my Fairy Tale blog.
"Maybe you won't be awoken from a deep sleep, be given legs by a sea witch, or fly on a magic carpet, but you will write your own unique, intensely special fairy tale--who wants those others anyway--they've already happened to someone else. Just enjoy your career, your friends, and you--a lot of people would love to be young, attractive, well-loved, and successful, so keep in mind that you are probably the envy of many!"
Oh Elaine. Leave those commies and come back to Texas. On Sunday afternoon when I went to update this blog, I stopped by Facebook and read her message. It was eerily similar to what I was about to post. After David and I broke up, I promised myself that I wouldn't become one of those women who covered their own self hatred and doubt with contempt and cynicsm of men, relationships and love. And, by all evidence in my last blog - I became that person. Needless to say, last week was NOT a good week for me emotionally. And I would like to sit here and tell you that it was someone else's fault...but it was mine. I shouldn't call. I shouldn't care. Regardless, despite my lack of glass slipper or house of dwarves, I do lead a rather charmed life and I should be more thankful and appreciative of it.
When I was younger I always heard people say that college was the best years of your life. I'm very concerned what the rest of those people's lives were like. They must have sucked. College was fun, but I felt like I was frozen in time and in mind. I didn't grow very much and I didn't really care too. I mean, the most growth I made was deciding that I didn't like shots of vodka and that draft beer is better than bottled. Even through my first full year of teaching, I didn't notice much of a change in myself. I was still desperately trying to hang on to the wild party girl of college and ended up being miserable with both feet stuck in different places. With the fall semester of my 2nd (and a half) year of teaching almost over, I am noticing changes and maturity in myself more than ever.
- I bought couches. And I'm excited. I think it was probably a highlight of my entire Thanksgiving vacation. I'm already concerned about stains.
- I'm okay with saying "No, I'm done drinking." (after 3 beers) or "I'm going to call it a night and head home." (at midnight)
- I iron. And not just pants. I iron the difficult shirts too! And cute jackets!
- I drink coffee. And it's not made for me by the nice people in the drive thru at Starbucks. Well...most of the time.
- I stand up for myself and defend what I believe at work. And not because I'm being defensive because I feel like a kid getting in trouble in the principal's office. But because I honestly know I'm doing a good job in the classroom - and I have the evidence to back it up.
- My Saturday night last weekend? Spent at Half Price Books and in bed watching a movie and reading. And it was splendid.
- My apartment has been consistently clean for three weeks. And the laundry is done. And apparently ironed! See above.
- I'm walking away. He's not worth it.
Next topic. I have a soul mate best friend. Her name is Amy. She is the Laverne to my Shirley, the Rhoda to my Mary and the Michelle to my Romy. Unfortunately, she is married, has a baby and lives in Maine. I mean, it's not unfortunate that she's married (I love Zam) or that she has a baby (Emma and my nephew will be married someday so that Amy and I will officially be related), but it's unfortunate that she lives in Maine. For some reason, on Sunday night, both Amy and myself had a few hours to talk to each other. I was having a quiet evening, and both her babies (daughter AND husband) were asleep. And we talked. Not just about how our holidays were or funny stuff we had seen on tv...but we REALLY talked. About kids, life, marriage, family and self-esteem. She's probably the one person outside of my mother and father that can truly anticipate my feelings, thoughts and needs before I do. I don't even have to tell her how I feel - I can describe the event or situation and she just knows. And vice versa, of course. I really feel blessed that her dad got out of the Army and moved the family to my hometown. Anyways. Amy and I were talking about our positions in life and how it was funny that we were becoming adults, seeing as how she was the first person I told about my first kiss. For all my life, I was the youngest by age. I was forever trailing around my older brothers, desperately trying to act their age. I became a true "teenager" last, didn't drive until I was a junior in high school, and was left at home from the bars in college because everyone else was 21, and I wasn't. I hated being the youngest. I hated how certain people in my life were so condescending towards me and my age just because of the fact that my parents accidentally got pregnant with me just a little after their own parents did. Anyways. Maybe the fact that I feel like I'm "behind" everybody as far as love and relationships go is because it brings back those feelings of not being "old" enough to do whatever everyone else was doing. I miss Amy.
Amy once told me something in passing, which I doubt she even remembers, but it has truly stuck with me since she said it. She told me once, in the most loving and sincere manner possible, that it was going to take one hell of a guy to settle me down because I can be a very difficult person to deal with. Thankfully, knowing Amy in the way that I do, I knew that she meant it from a place of love for me and pure devotion to me. :) But, to a certain extent...it's true. I am independent. I know exactly what I want, when I want it, and how I want it done. I don't accept second best - in anything. I have high standards for myself, as well as others and I hold myself (and others) to those standards. Granted, I understand that there is a certain amount of cooperation and compromise that is necessary for any and every relationship to last, but...at the cost of who I am and what I believe in? I don't think so. So maybe not everyone hangs their clothes in the neurotically organized manner in which I do. (Only white plastic hangers, all clothes facing the same way, according to style or season) That's fine - it's not my clothes. Maybe their way to get to the restaurant or movie theater is different. It's whatever, as long as we get there. (But don't argue with my Delilah navigation system!) But, for me to completely change who I am because you can't handle it? I don't think so. GS tried that. He "fell" for me because of my passion, independence and my ability to tell it like it is....but for some reason, when those characteristics were used during an argument (in the most rational and reasonable manner, of course) he didn't like them anymore. Sorry buddy. You can't order an ice cream cone and then send it back because it's too cold.
Well....I think that about covers it for now. My brain hurts and it's time for some mindless activities. Tonight on MTV Tila Tequila meets the parents!!! Oohh....drama...goody.
"Maybe you won't be awoken from a deep sleep, be given legs by a sea witch, or fly on a magic carpet, but you will write your own unique, intensely special fairy tale--who wants those others anyway--they've already happened to someone else. Just enjoy your career, your friends, and you--a lot of people would love to be young, attractive, well-loved, and successful, so keep in mind that you are probably the envy of many!"
Oh Elaine. Leave those commies and come back to Texas. On Sunday afternoon when I went to update this blog, I stopped by Facebook and read her message. It was eerily similar to what I was about to post. After David and I broke up, I promised myself that I wouldn't become one of those women who covered their own self hatred and doubt with contempt and cynicsm of men, relationships and love. And, by all evidence in my last blog - I became that person. Needless to say, last week was NOT a good week for me emotionally. And I would like to sit here and tell you that it was someone else's fault...but it was mine. I shouldn't call. I shouldn't care. Regardless, despite my lack of glass slipper or house of dwarves, I do lead a rather charmed life and I should be more thankful and appreciative of it.
When I was younger I always heard people say that college was the best years of your life. I'm very concerned what the rest of those people's lives were like. They must have sucked. College was fun, but I felt like I was frozen in time and in mind. I didn't grow very much and I didn't really care too. I mean, the most growth I made was deciding that I didn't like shots of vodka and that draft beer is better than bottled. Even through my first full year of teaching, I didn't notice much of a change in myself. I was still desperately trying to hang on to the wild party girl of college and ended up being miserable with both feet stuck in different places. With the fall semester of my 2nd (and a half) year of teaching almost over, I am noticing changes and maturity in myself more than ever.
- I bought couches. And I'm excited. I think it was probably a highlight of my entire Thanksgiving vacation. I'm already concerned about stains.
- I'm okay with saying "No, I'm done drinking." (after 3 beers) or "I'm going to call it a night and head home." (at midnight)
- I iron. And not just pants. I iron the difficult shirts too! And cute jackets!
- I drink coffee. And it's not made for me by the nice people in the drive thru at Starbucks. Well...most of the time.
- I stand up for myself and defend what I believe at work. And not because I'm being defensive because I feel like a kid getting in trouble in the principal's office. But because I honestly know I'm doing a good job in the classroom - and I have the evidence to back it up.
- My Saturday night last weekend? Spent at Half Price Books and in bed watching a movie and reading. And it was splendid.
- My apartment has been consistently clean for three weeks. And the laundry is done. And apparently ironed! See above.
- I'm walking away. He's not worth it.
Next topic. I have a soul mate best friend. Her name is Amy. She is the Laverne to my Shirley, the Rhoda to my Mary and the Michelle to my Romy. Unfortunately, she is married, has a baby and lives in Maine. I mean, it's not unfortunate that she's married (I love Zam) or that she has a baby (Emma and my nephew will be married someday so that Amy and I will officially be related), but it's unfortunate that she lives in Maine. For some reason, on Sunday night, both Amy and myself had a few hours to talk to each other. I was having a quiet evening, and both her babies (daughter AND husband) were asleep. And we talked. Not just about how our holidays were or funny stuff we had seen on tv...but we REALLY talked. About kids, life, marriage, family and self-esteem. She's probably the one person outside of my mother and father that can truly anticipate my feelings, thoughts and needs before I do. I don't even have to tell her how I feel - I can describe the event or situation and she just knows. And vice versa, of course. I really feel blessed that her dad got out of the Army and moved the family to my hometown. Anyways. Amy and I were talking about our positions in life and how it was funny that we were becoming adults, seeing as how she was the first person I told about my first kiss. For all my life, I was the youngest by age. I was forever trailing around my older brothers, desperately trying to act their age. I became a true "teenager" last, didn't drive until I was a junior in high school, and was left at home from the bars in college because everyone else was 21, and I wasn't. I hated being the youngest. I hated how certain people in my life were so condescending towards me and my age just because of the fact that my parents accidentally got pregnant with me just a little after their own parents did. Anyways. Maybe the fact that I feel like I'm "behind" everybody as far as love and relationships go is because it brings back those feelings of not being "old" enough to do whatever everyone else was doing. I miss Amy.
Amy once told me something in passing, which I doubt she even remembers, but it has truly stuck with me since she said it. She told me once, in the most loving and sincere manner possible, that it was going to take one hell of a guy to settle me down because I can be a very difficult person to deal with. Thankfully, knowing Amy in the way that I do, I knew that she meant it from a place of love for me and pure devotion to me. :) But, to a certain extent...it's true. I am independent. I know exactly what I want, when I want it, and how I want it done. I don't accept second best - in anything. I have high standards for myself, as well as others and I hold myself (and others) to those standards. Granted, I understand that there is a certain amount of cooperation and compromise that is necessary for any and every relationship to last, but...at the cost of who I am and what I believe in? I don't think so. So maybe not everyone hangs their clothes in the neurotically organized manner in which I do. (Only white plastic hangers, all clothes facing the same way, according to style or season) That's fine - it's not my clothes. Maybe their way to get to the restaurant or movie theater is different. It's whatever, as long as we get there. (But don't argue with my Delilah navigation system!) But, for me to completely change who I am because you can't handle it? I don't think so. GS tried that. He "fell" for me because of my passion, independence and my ability to tell it like it is....but for some reason, when those characteristics were used during an argument (in the most rational and reasonable manner, of course) he didn't like them anymore. Sorry buddy. You can't order an ice cream cone and then send it back because it's too cold.
Well....I think that about covers it for now. My brain hurts and it's time for some mindless activities. Tonight on MTV Tila Tequila meets the parents!!! Oohh....drama...goody.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
You can't take it all with you...
I'm not a light packer. I take a huge duffel bag for a weekend trip. I am the girl with the overflowing purse that could fit a small child. I carried a 50 pound bag around Europe for 12 days and still thought I hadn't brought enough clothes. The phrase "Don't leave home without it" applies to me. I don't leave home without EVERYTHING. My packing philosophy is borrowed from the Boy Scouts. I am always prepared for every possible clothing situation. I like options.
Luckily, I have worked hard to unpack the baggage in my emotional life. I was carrying the weight of David and all that drama around with me for so long, until a good friend in college told me some very wise advice. I tried not to take TOO much relationship advice from her since she had been married two or three times and had yet to blow out the candles on her 30th birthday cake, but that's besides the point. She gave me a real gem on this particular subject.
Emotional baggage shouldn't be something that you carry around with you on a daily basis. It's something like an old trunk of stuff that you keep up in the attic and never think about. Once in awhile, you go up to the attic, rummage around in the trunk, throw out some stuff and reorganize. You shut the trunk up and don't go back there for awhile.
Baggage is not a bad thing. It's a necessary evil of life. Like bridesmaids and groomsmen hooking up after weddings. It's not always what you wanted to happen, but who doesn't get a little pleasure out of being accosted in an elevator?
Everyone has baggage and when entering a relationship, you have to be aware that your potential partner will have some. And it's not always pretty.
Baggage can come in many forms from "Mommy and Daddy Didn't Love Me Enough" to "I Gave Her My Heart and She Stomped On It." Anyway you shake it, if the person doesn't have their baggage locked up in their attic storage, run far away.
When I was little and we would return from a trip, it was always my job to unpack my suitcase and sort the clothes out for washing. I could never convince any other member of my family to do it for me. Same goes with emotional baggage. It's not anybody else's job to sift through your baggage. It wasn't my job to solve or cure David's Daddy baggage, his I'm Not Good Enough baggage, or his It's All My Parent's Divorce's Fault baggage. He was carrying the Louis Vuitton of luggage - the complete set. And, as is in real life, the cost was way to high for me to invest in that type of luggage.
I don't want to have to help any more guys to get to a better place in their life - whether it be emotionally, economically or job wise. I'm where I want to be and I deserve a guy that is in the same place. I've packed away my baggage from David, but it doesn't mean that I'll ever forget what he did or how he made me feel. It's that knowledge that has and will (hopefully) prevent me from falling into the same trap. The more I live on my own, the more I get over the "Desperately Seeking Parent's Approval" baggage. I live my life to make ME happy and satisfied. I still have the "Be Number One or Be Nothing" baggage - but I think that's just part of who I am and not necessarily something to be "dealt" with as the other two were.
Bottom line: I am relatively baggage free and I deserve the same from the person I'm in a relationship with.
Luckily, I have worked hard to unpack the baggage in my emotional life. I was carrying the weight of David and all that drama around with me for so long, until a good friend in college told me some very wise advice. I tried not to take TOO much relationship advice from her since she had been married two or three times and had yet to blow out the candles on her 30th birthday cake, but that's besides the point. She gave me a real gem on this particular subject.
Emotional baggage shouldn't be something that you carry around with you on a daily basis. It's something like an old trunk of stuff that you keep up in the attic and never think about. Once in awhile, you go up to the attic, rummage around in the trunk, throw out some stuff and reorganize. You shut the trunk up and don't go back there for awhile.
Baggage is not a bad thing. It's a necessary evil of life. Like bridesmaids and groomsmen hooking up after weddings. It's not always what you wanted to happen, but who doesn't get a little pleasure out of being accosted in an elevator?
Everyone has baggage and when entering a relationship, you have to be aware that your potential partner will have some. And it's not always pretty.
Baggage can come in many forms from "Mommy and Daddy Didn't Love Me Enough" to "I Gave Her My Heart and She Stomped On It." Anyway you shake it, if the person doesn't have their baggage locked up in their attic storage, run far away.
When I was little and we would return from a trip, it was always my job to unpack my suitcase and sort the clothes out for washing. I could never convince any other member of my family to do it for me. Same goes with emotional baggage. It's not anybody else's job to sift through your baggage. It wasn't my job to solve or cure David's Daddy baggage, his I'm Not Good Enough baggage, or his It's All My Parent's Divorce's Fault baggage. He was carrying the Louis Vuitton of luggage - the complete set. And, as is in real life, the cost was way to high for me to invest in that type of luggage.
I don't want to have to help any more guys to get to a better place in their life - whether it be emotionally, economically or job wise. I'm where I want to be and I deserve a guy that is in the same place. I've packed away my baggage from David, but it doesn't mean that I'll ever forget what he did or how he made me feel. It's that knowledge that has and will (hopefully) prevent me from falling into the same trap. The more I live on my own, the more I get over the "Desperately Seeking Parent's Approval" baggage. I live my life to make ME happy and satisfied. I still have the "Be Number One or Be Nothing" baggage - but I think that's just part of who I am and not necessarily something to be "dealt" with as the other two were.
Bottom line: I am relatively baggage free and I deserve the same from the person I'm in a relationship with.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Crossroads
I had lunch with my brother today and the conversation fell upon an interesting topic.
What I want out of life.
Do I want to settle down right now, or am I enjoying having boy toys?
Ugh...that's a tough one. Of course, it's nice to have a man around to hang out with, to lean on and to spoon with. But at the same time, in order for that to happen...you have to be in a serious relationship with him, right? Or else, it just gets weird and complicated. I have a brothel of men in my life right now that are simply friends...I think. Some of them might have other intentions, but I'm pretending not to have knowledge of those intentions. I enjoy spending time with each of them - drinking, playing video games, going out to eat and shopping. I'm sure that I if I pursued any one of them actively, I could form somewhat of a relationship...but then, I'd be potentially losing a good drinking or shopping buddy. My relationships with men right now are, for the most part, uncomplicated and easy, requiring little emotional effort on my part.
Do I want to get married?
Yeah, probably. But marriage is so...final. I just don't see myself as someone's wife. And I know for sure that I don't want all the hullabaloo that goes along with getting married. We'll see.
Do I want to have kids?
Even more than the wife thing...I know I don't see myself as someone's mother. Not right now, and I don't know if ever.
The thing is...there are so many different paths that my life could still take. Do I want to have a quiet life in the suburbs, driving an SUV and raising my kids? I feel that I would get so utterly bored and disconnected from what makes me happy in life. I'm sure that I could put on the happy face and pretend like I enjoyed the way my life had turned out, but I would bet that on my 40th birthday, I would collapse into tears because I hadn't lived my life the way I wanted. That I had somehow given up on all the personal goals and boundaries that I had set and wanted in my twenties...
So, on the other hand, do I want to have that fast paced, jet setting lifestyle in the big city? As glamorous as a Dallas high rise, BMW's, posh restaurants, and vacations in Tahiti sound...would I eventually become alienated from the type of person that my parents raised me to be? Would I get so obsessed with money, success and keeping up appearances that I would forget to form a lasting relationship with the important people in my life?
I think the bottom line is that I need to figure out the type of person and lifestyle I want to be and to have in ten years. And right now, I don't think that I'm in a place where I want to think that far ahead. I am completely infatuated with the way that my life is running right now. I have a great group of different friends that I can chill at the lake with, or I can party in Uptown with. I am getting to live every different type of possible lifestyle that I could ever want or need. I guess eventually, I will figure out what I want for my future and when I've done that, I will look for someone who has a similar vision.
What I want out of life.
Do I want to settle down right now, or am I enjoying having boy toys?
Ugh...that's a tough one. Of course, it's nice to have a man around to hang out with, to lean on and to spoon with. But at the same time, in order for that to happen...you have to be in a serious relationship with him, right? Or else, it just gets weird and complicated. I have a brothel of men in my life right now that are simply friends...I think. Some of them might have other intentions, but I'm pretending not to have knowledge of those intentions. I enjoy spending time with each of them - drinking, playing video games, going out to eat and shopping. I'm sure that I if I pursued any one of them actively, I could form somewhat of a relationship...but then, I'd be potentially losing a good drinking or shopping buddy. My relationships with men right now are, for the most part, uncomplicated and easy, requiring little emotional effort on my part.
Do I want to get married?
Yeah, probably. But marriage is so...final. I just don't see myself as someone's wife. And I know for sure that I don't want all the hullabaloo that goes along with getting married. We'll see.
Do I want to have kids?
Even more than the wife thing...I know I don't see myself as someone's mother. Not right now, and I don't know if ever.
The thing is...there are so many different paths that my life could still take. Do I want to have a quiet life in the suburbs, driving an SUV and raising my kids? I feel that I would get so utterly bored and disconnected from what makes me happy in life. I'm sure that I could put on the happy face and pretend like I enjoyed the way my life had turned out, but I would bet that on my 40th birthday, I would collapse into tears because I hadn't lived my life the way I wanted. That I had somehow given up on all the personal goals and boundaries that I had set and wanted in my twenties...
So, on the other hand, do I want to have that fast paced, jet setting lifestyle in the big city? As glamorous as a Dallas high rise, BMW's, posh restaurants, and vacations in Tahiti sound...would I eventually become alienated from the type of person that my parents raised me to be? Would I get so obsessed with money, success and keeping up appearances that I would forget to form a lasting relationship with the important people in my life?
I think the bottom line is that I need to figure out the type of person and lifestyle I want to be and to have in ten years. And right now, I don't think that I'm in a place where I want to think that far ahead. I am completely infatuated with the way that my life is running right now. I have a great group of different friends that I can chill at the lake with, or I can party in Uptown with. I am getting to live every different type of possible lifestyle that I could ever want or need. I guess eventually, I will figure out what I want for my future and when I've done that, I will look for someone who has a similar vision.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
I'm back!
Ugh...jet lag sucks.
Alright - here's the rundown on my trip to Europe. This is obviously a shortened version - there are some stories that can only be told in person because they are HILARIOUS.
Amsterdam:
- Saw the Anne Frank House, Van Gogh museum and the Heineken brewery.
- The Dutch men are BEAUTIFUL: tall, slim, great hair and high cheek bones. Sigh.
- Overnight train to Munich: met some other backpackers and sat up til 1 in the morning discussing American foreign politics and other such intellectual topics with them and two old German guys in the dining car.
Munich:
- Went to Dachau Concentration Camp on an incredibly beautiful day. It was insane to think that such disgusting and despicable events were carried out on the same rocks that I walked across. I found out that it is mandated by Germany that all German high school students tour a concentration camp. It was a very surreal experience.
- Went on a bike tour of the city with Mike's Bike Tours. Jumped in a freezing cold river in the middle of Englischer Gardens and then hung out with some guys we met on the tour at a couple of beer gardens. Beer came in LITER glasses. Yum.
Berlin:
- Walked along the East Wall Gallery of the Berlin Wall and went to the Checkpoint Charlie museum.
- Went on another bike tour with Fat Tire Bike Tours and saw the entire city. Most of the city is relatively modern because of the destruction wreaked on the city at the end of World War II.
- Went on a pub crawl with the Fat Tire guys. They took us to an Irish pub and I walked in and the song that was playing? David Hasselhoff's Looking for Freedom, which, ironically enough, was the song that he sang on top of the remains of the Berlin Wall on New Year's Eve in 1989. Those Germans - they LOVE the Hoff. We also went to this AWESOME bar in the former Communist East Berlin. It was five stories of concrete slab with all the walls spray painted. It really made me feel like I was in an illegal and underground bar in East Berlin in the early 1980s. It was so cool.
London:
- I traveled around London mostly by myself because Kristin was working, but I found that I really enjoyed being completely independent in a city that I had never been to.
- Toured Westminster Abbey, walked by the Parliament buildings and Buckingham Palace.
- Toured the Tower of London and St. Paul's Cathedral.
- On Tuesday night, when Kristin had a BP gala that I couldn't go to so I went and saw Les Miserables in the Soho Theater district. It was AMAZING. Definitely the highlight of London for me. I saw it when I was very young and I loved it...I had chills and tears in my eyes the entire time.
There is so much more to tell, but I'm too tired to write it all right now.
The main thing that I came away with from this trip is that I am okay on my own. When Kristin was at her conference, I toured the city and I would get hungry. And I had to sit at a cafe and eat all by myself. Strangely enough, I actually found it very relaxing and comforting. At the end of the trip, I told Kristin this: "I don't know what's waiting for me at home. I don't know what will happen in my love life, but I do know that no matter what, I'll be okay. I'm alright all on my own."
It was a pretty amazing trip. But I am VERY happy to be home. I cried when the plane touched down at DFW. But then again, I cried when the plane took off to London when I left. I cried a lot during the trip. But in a good way.
Alright - here's the rundown on my trip to Europe. This is obviously a shortened version - there are some stories that can only be told in person because they are HILARIOUS.
Amsterdam:
- Saw the Anne Frank House, Van Gogh museum and the Heineken brewery.
- The Dutch men are BEAUTIFUL: tall, slim, great hair and high cheek bones. Sigh.
- Overnight train to Munich: met some other backpackers and sat up til 1 in the morning discussing American foreign politics and other such intellectual topics with them and two old German guys in the dining car.
Munich:
- Went to Dachau Concentration Camp on an incredibly beautiful day. It was insane to think that such disgusting and despicable events were carried out on the same rocks that I walked across. I found out that it is mandated by Germany that all German high school students tour a concentration camp. It was a very surreal experience.
- Went on a bike tour of the city with Mike's Bike Tours. Jumped in a freezing cold river in the middle of Englischer Gardens and then hung out with some guys we met on the tour at a couple of beer gardens. Beer came in LITER glasses. Yum.
Berlin:
- Walked along the East Wall Gallery of the Berlin Wall and went to the Checkpoint Charlie museum.
- Went on another bike tour with Fat Tire Bike Tours and saw the entire city. Most of the city is relatively modern because of the destruction wreaked on the city at the end of World War II.
- Went on a pub crawl with the Fat Tire guys. They took us to an Irish pub and I walked in and the song that was playing? David Hasselhoff's Looking for Freedom, which, ironically enough, was the song that he sang on top of the remains of the Berlin Wall on New Year's Eve in 1989. Those Germans - they LOVE the Hoff. We also went to this AWESOME bar in the former Communist East Berlin. It was five stories of concrete slab with all the walls spray painted. It really made me feel like I was in an illegal and underground bar in East Berlin in the early 1980s. It was so cool.
London:
- I traveled around London mostly by myself because Kristin was working, but I found that I really enjoyed being completely independent in a city that I had never been to.
- Toured Westminster Abbey, walked by the Parliament buildings and Buckingham Palace.
- Toured the Tower of London and St. Paul's Cathedral.
- On Tuesday night, when Kristin had a BP gala that I couldn't go to so I went and saw Les Miserables in the Soho Theater district. It was AMAZING. Definitely the highlight of London for me. I saw it when I was very young and I loved it...I had chills and tears in my eyes the entire time.
There is so much more to tell, but I'm too tired to write it all right now.
The main thing that I came away with from this trip is that I am okay on my own. When Kristin was at her conference, I toured the city and I would get hungry. And I had to sit at a cafe and eat all by myself. Strangely enough, I actually found it very relaxing and comforting. At the end of the trip, I told Kristin this: "I don't know what's waiting for me at home. I don't know what will happen in my love life, but I do know that no matter what, I'll be okay. I'm alright all on my own."
It was a pretty amazing trip. But I am VERY happy to be home. I cried when the plane touched down at DFW. But then again, I cried when the plane took off to London when I left. I cried a lot during the trip. But in a good way.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Wild Child
I have a good friend named Kristin, who I am going to be traveling through Europe with in about 10 days. Kristin and I were raised in similar families: upper middle class, happily married parents, strong foundation in community and church, etc. We both felt enormous pressure to be the "perfect" girls. The ones who people looked at and said: "what a fantastic young lady." And being a "fantastic young lady" never felt like it included being a "normal" teenager. It meant never drinking, never staying out past our curfew, never sneaking out of the house...all of which meant never having any fun to Kristin and myself.
Kristin and I figured out our own little manipulative ways of keeping up appearances to our parents, to the community and to the school that we were still perfect little angels that never did anything wrong. As could be expected, it didn't last forever and after one forgettable St. Patrick's Day during my junior year of high school, the halo slipped off, I fell from the pedestal, I was grounded for a month, and my actions were monitored much closer from then until high school graduation day. I won't go into the details, but in the words of myself at 16 - it sucked.
That curbed any rebellion for awhile. But after graduation...all bets were off. It started with our parents being out of town and continued for about three and a half years into college. Maybe it was a sign of deeper issues, or just the freedom of being able to stretch out my wings, but I went wild in college. I joined a sorority which practically shoved a drink in your hand the minute you rushed.
I was hung over on my first ever day of college. Please keep in mind that this was an 8:00 class on a Monday morning.
I enjoyed the drinking and the partying. I enjoyed looking cute, going out with a big group of girls and that feeling of having an entire night full of interesting possibilities. Who would we meet? What drama would unfold, which we would always rehash the next morning? Would that cute guy from the party call? (PS - he never ever called) How would the girls in our rival sororities drunkenly embarrass themselves, for which we would revel in the idea that we a superior, classier group of women? Neverminding the fact that it had, in fact, been us the week before making complete fools of ourselves on the back patio of RBar in front of a group of ZTAs or KKGs.
I was NOT, by far, the hardest drinker of the bunch. Those girls were weeded out quickly by the end of freshman year. They just drifted away...and none of their "sisters" ever cared to find out what happened to them, or to even worry about their drinking problem in the first place. But I had my moments when I would somehow find myself waking up on the bathroom floor, wondering how I had gotten home. I am completely ashamed to admit this to you, whether you are my friends, my family or my coworkers.
And through all the insanity, the post flag football drinks at State Club, the pre partying before and after Date Parties, and the pre partying before RBar and then to the frat houses after RBar...I somehow kept my grades up. It was like, if I was doing well in school...then there wasn't a problem.
If I met the 19 year old version of myself right now out at a party...I wouldn't like her. I would see her as a stupid, young, brat who had no idea of the manner in which she was presenting herself. I still see girls like this at the bar and they absolutely disgust me.
So...when did it all stop? When did I grow up?
Well, up until my junior year of college (I was still 20) drinking had been fun. Luckily, I had survived the first few years of college drinking without a ticket, an arrest, or being physically/mentally/emotionally damaged in any way. Drinking was fun - it was something to do at the end of the week...I had never truly experienced the darkest depths of what drinking could do to someone.
Then I met him. I met and fell in love with an alcoholic that made me so terrified of drinking. I saw the effects that it had on him and I tried my damnest to stay sober - someone in the relationship had to be. He literally scared me straight.
But, I think he's been given more than enough discussion in this blog already.
And you're probably asking yourself: What does all this have to do with anything?
Since graduating college, I have been living in two completely separate worlds and it is getting exhausting being two people.
Half of me is a teacher - a person who is respected in the community, someone who has a huge responsibility to be a role model to impressionable teenagers.
The other half of me is still that wild party girl from college. I'm only 23 - just because I graduated college doesn't mean that I'm going to lay down and die.
Maybe it all comes back to that point of I always saw my own teachers on this pedestal, and I think that I have to live up to this impossible ideal of who I should be, and how I should live my life.
I tried to play the part of the good girl, but my heart was never truly in it. I wanted to stay out all night. I wanted to be a party girl. I wanted anything that was drastically different from what my parents thought was right.
That curbed any rebellion for awhile. But after graduation...all bets were off. It started with our parents being out of town and continued for about three and a half years into college. Maybe it was a sign of deeper issues, or just the freedom of being able to stretch out my wings, but I went wild in college. I joined a sorority which practically shoved a drink in your hand the minute you rushed.
I was hung over on my first ever day of college. Please keep in mind that this was an 8:00 class on a Monday morning.
I enjoyed the drinking and the partying. I enjoyed looking cute, going out with a big group of girls and that feeling of having an entire night full of interesting possibilities. Who would we meet? What drama would unfold, which we would always rehash the next morning? Would that cute guy from the party call? (PS - he never ever called) How would the girls in our rival sororities drunkenly embarrass themselves, for which we would revel in the idea that we a superior, classier group of women? Neverminding the fact that it had, in fact, been us the week before making complete fools of ourselves on the back patio of RBar in front of a group of ZTAs or KKGs.
I was NOT, by far, the hardest drinker of the bunch. Those girls were weeded out quickly by the end of freshman year. They just drifted away...and none of their "sisters" ever cared to find out what happened to them, or to even worry about their drinking problem in the first place. But I had my moments when I would somehow find myself waking up on the bathroom floor, wondering how I had gotten home. I am completely ashamed to admit this to you, whether you are my friends, my family or my coworkers.
And through all the insanity, the post flag football drinks at State Club, the pre partying before and after Date Parties, and the pre partying before RBar and then to the frat houses after RBar...I somehow kept my grades up. It was like, if I was doing well in school...then there wasn't a problem.
If I met the 19 year old version of myself right now out at a party...I wouldn't like her. I would see her as a stupid, young, brat who had no idea of the manner in which she was presenting herself. I still see girls like this at the bar and they absolutely disgust me.
So...when did it all stop? When did I grow up?
Well, up until my junior year of college (I was still 20) drinking had been fun. Luckily, I had survived the first few years of college drinking without a ticket, an arrest, or being physically/mentally/emotionally damaged in any way. Drinking was fun - it was something to do at the end of the week...I had never truly experienced the darkest depths of what drinking could do to someone.
Then I met him. I met and fell in love with an alcoholic that made me so terrified of drinking. I saw the effects that it had on him and I tried my damnest to stay sober - someone in the relationship had to be. He literally scared me straight.
But, I think he's been given more than enough discussion in this blog already.
And you're probably asking yourself: What does all this have to do with anything?
Since graduating college, I have been living in two completely separate worlds and it is getting exhausting being two people.
Half of me is a teacher - a person who is respected in the community, someone who has a huge responsibility to be a role model to impressionable teenagers.
The other half of me is still that wild party girl from college. I'm only 23 - just because I graduated college doesn't mean that I'm going to lay down and die.
Maybe it all comes back to that point of I always saw my own teachers on this pedestal, and I think that I have to live up to this impossible ideal of who I should be, and how I should live my life.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Little Girl Lost
Two weeks from tomorrow I leave for Europe with one of my closest friends, Kristin. We're hitting up Amsterdam for a few days, then off to Munich, staying with Josh for a weekend in Heidelberg and finally back to London for the remainder of the trip. I'm extremely nervous - there is so much to think about. From packing and clothing options, to money and the question that continually has run through my head: "What if I don't like the food they eat there?" The most major things have been taken care of - lodging, transportation and a basic outline of what we'll do when we get there.
I think the scariest thing about the entire trip is what it signifies. I'm doing this on my own. My parents are not helping me pay for it, nor will my mother be there interpreting the language for us like she was in Italy. I think that this might be the farthest that I have ever physically been from my parents. And it kind of terrifies me.
Plus...I'm terrified of the plane crashing into the ocean. Because then you're screwed.
I am the youngest of three children in my family by a lot. I was the accident. Oops! Eight years after they had my middle brother Mike, I was born. I am the only girl - the princess. I never had to take care of anything that was a big deal like this - I could almost always convince SOMEBODY in my family to "help" me, to which I just backed off and let them do it for me. Yes, I tended to be lazy and a tad bit manipulative. In turn, I think that this has made my transition into adulthood a little harder. Remembering to pay bills on time was a shock, as was the fact that my father made me pay him to change my oil.
Anyways. Back to Europe. I'm excited. I truly am. I'm not sure if I'm more excited about seeing the sights or doing something this big COMPLETELY ON MY OWN. I kind of feel like it's time to cut the umbilical cord. As much as I love and respect my parents and I know that I will NEVER be able to repay them for everything that the did for me growing up and do for me now....it's time to stand on my own. I can change my own oil. If I go over on my budget for the month - I will deal with it. I can take my own clothes to the dry cleaners. I can figure out how to make the stinkin' grilled cheese sandwiches on my own. And if I mess up...well...then I'll call Mom.
As much as I resemble my parents physically, we are often on different ends of the spectrum when it comes to politics, drinking and sadly...morals. I don't know when the tides changed and I went from a fairly conservative little Catholic girl to this die hard liberal woman. I'm going to put my money on going to the University of North Texas having something to do with it. I felt guilty when I made an educated decision to vote for John Kerry in the 2004 Presidential election. I felt like I was disobeying my parents, or letting them down in some way. Like I was a little rebel thumbing my nose at them just because I could. I know that to a certain extent, they don't approve of my lifestyle. I don't think that either of them can relate to who I am or what I hold important and value in my life at times. I think that when my mother was pregnant with me, she had this vision of her daughter all dressed in pink and acting like a lady. I played in the mud as a child, and hated dresses. I'm not that conservative, lady-like and delicate woman that I think she wanted me to be. But I wouldn't be happy that way. I like being loud. I like laughing with the guys at the dirty jokes. Hell - I like TELLING the dirty jokes. I'm bold and brassy and sometimes a little intimidating. I look at her and, no offense Mom, I don't see this dainty, lady-like, waif of a woman. I see someone who has stood up for herself, someone who likes to laugh and drink wine with good friends. I see her as one of the strongest women that I have ever met...and I'm just like her, but yet, I don't feel like I measure up.
I also feel like I'm completely disrespecting my parents and that if my mother were to read this, she would get upset and therefore I feel guilty and I am beginning to think that I shouldn't even publish this. Do you see the internal conflict that I'm wrestling with? These are my thoughts and my feelings but I'm afraid to let her know because it would disappoint and hurt her...
My parents are pretty conservative with their money as far as buying clothes, music, going out is concerned. Don't get me wrong - they're not penny pinchers. They live in an older, but updated house; they both drive new cars and most of all - they take fantastic trips. And my mom doesn't sleep in anything less than 3 stars. Apparently, we are more alike than previously thought. :) I have the worst habit. Everytime I buy something, I hear my mother's voice: "And how much did that cost? It's cute - but do you need more clothes?" Or my father's: " I bet if you looked in the back of your closet, you could find that same exact thing." I actually feel guilty spending the money that I earn because I'm afraid that my parent's are going to get angry with me. It's not their money, but still...I guess it's just something that was ingrained in my head when I was in college and actually spending all their money on complete crap that I don't ever wear anymore. We just have different priorities. They tend to go grocery shopping at least once a week and spend their money. I go clothes shopping at least once a week, in contrast to my monthly/bimonthly grocery shopping trip. I don't eat that much at my house because I would much rather be able to fit into that size 8 skirt that I bought, then chow down on frozen pizza. And plus, if I get hungry...my mom will let me eat the leftovers.
I just want to be able to make decisions, large and small, for my own life without automatically thinking of what my parents would say or think or if they would disapprove or not. I want to be independent and make decisions for my own life based on what I believe to be right for me because I think that if I am able to do that...maybe I'll make decisions that will make ME happy.
And Mom...if you're reading this - don't cry. I love you. I just can't be everything that you want me to be. I just want to be me and have you be okay with that.
I think the scariest thing about the entire trip is what it signifies. I'm doing this on my own. My parents are not helping me pay for it, nor will my mother be there interpreting the language for us like she was in Italy. I think that this might be the farthest that I have ever physically been from my parents. And it kind of terrifies me.
Plus...I'm terrified of the plane crashing into the ocean. Because then you're screwed.
I am the youngest of three children in my family by a lot. I was the accident. Oops! Eight years after they had my middle brother Mike, I was born. I am the only girl - the princess. I never had to take care of anything that was a big deal like this - I could almost always convince SOMEBODY in my family to "help" me, to which I just backed off and let them do it for me. Yes, I tended to be lazy and a tad bit manipulative. In turn, I think that this has made my transition into adulthood a little harder. Remembering to pay bills on time was a shock, as was the fact that my father made me pay him to change my oil.
Anyways. Back to Europe. I'm excited. I truly am. I'm not sure if I'm more excited about seeing the sights or doing something this big COMPLETELY ON MY OWN. I kind of feel like it's time to cut the umbilical cord. As much as I love and respect my parents and I know that I will NEVER be able to repay them for everything that the did for me growing up and do for me now....it's time to stand on my own. I can change my own oil. If I go over on my budget for the month - I will deal with it. I can take my own clothes to the dry cleaners. I can figure out how to make the stinkin' grilled cheese sandwiches on my own. And if I mess up...well...then I'll call Mom.
As much as I resemble my parents physically, we are often on different ends of the spectrum when it comes to politics, drinking and sadly...morals. I don't know when the tides changed and I went from a fairly conservative little Catholic girl to this die hard liberal woman. I'm going to put my money on going to the University of North Texas having something to do with it. I felt guilty when I made an educated decision to vote for John Kerry in the 2004 Presidential election. I felt like I was disobeying my parents, or letting them down in some way. Like I was a little rebel thumbing my nose at them just because I could. I know that to a certain extent, they don't approve of my lifestyle. I don't think that either of them can relate to who I am or what I hold important and value in my life at times. I think that when my mother was pregnant with me, she had this vision of her daughter all dressed in pink and acting like a lady. I played in the mud as a child, and hated dresses. I'm not that conservative, lady-like and delicate woman that I think she wanted me to be. But I wouldn't be happy that way. I like being loud. I like laughing with the guys at the dirty jokes. Hell - I like TELLING the dirty jokes. I'm bold and brassy and sometimes a little intimidating. I look at her and, no offense Mom, I don't see this dainty, lady-like, waif of a woman. I see someone who has stood up for herself, someone who likes to laugh and drink wine with good friends. I see her as one of the strongest women that I have ever met...and I'm just like her, but yet, I don't feel like I measure up.
I also feel like I'm completely disrespecting my parents and that if my mother were to read this, she would get upset and therefore I feel guilty and I am beginning to think that I shouldn't even publish this. Do you see the internal conflict that I'm wrestling with? These are my thoughts and my feelings but I'm afraid to let her know because it would disappoint and hurt her...
My parents are pretty conservative with their money as far as buying clothes, music, going out is concerned. Don't get me wrong - they're not penny pinchers. They live in an older, but updated house; they both drive new cars and most of all - they take fantastic trips. And my mom doesn't sleep in anything less than 3 stars. Apparently, we are more alike than previously thought. :) I have the worst habit. Everytime I buy something, I hear my mother's voice: "And how much did that cost? It's cute - but do you need more clothes?" Or my father's: " I bet if you looked in the back of your closet, you could find that same exact thing." I actually feel guilty spending the money that I earn because I'm afraid that my parent's are going to get angry with me. It's not their money, but still...I guess it's just something that was ingrained in my head when I was in college and actually spending all their money on complete crap that I don't ever wear anymore. We just have different priorities. They tend to go grocery shopping at least once a week and spend their money. I go clothes shopping at least once a week, in contrast to my monthly/bimonthly grocery shopping trip. I don't eat that much at my house because I would much rather be able to fit into that size 8 skirt that I bought, then chow down on frozen pizza. And plus, if I get hungry...my mom will let me eat the leftovers.
I just want to be able to make decisions, large and small, for my own life without automatically thinking of what my parents would say or think or if they would disapprove or not. I want to be independent and make decisions for my own life based on what I believe to be right for me because I think that if I am able to do that...maybe I'll make decisions that will make ME happy.
And Mom...if you're reading this - don't cry. I love you. I just can't be everything that you want me to be. I just want to be me and have you be okay with that.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Confusion
So...it's been awhile since I've blogged but it's mostly due to the fact that I haven't really had anything to blog about. I took a few weeks off from the bar scene and actually stayed at home on both Friday AND Saturday nights. This was good for a few reasons - first of all, when you're not at the bar with a guy by your side, a night out drinking costs a LOT more. And also...I'm learning to be alone, but more importantly - to be OKAY when I'm alone.
There has been something else running through my neurotic, slightly self-obsessed and very vain little brain lately. All through college and post college up until this point, I always had to be dating the IT guy. Maybe it started with the pressure from the sorority to date only the guys from the hottest fraternity, despite the fact that they were complete neaderthals or maybe I was trying to compensate for not ever feeling like I was considered pretty and "date-able" by the hot guys in middle and high school. Whatever the reason, I dated the beautiful men. The ones that should be on the cover of GQ although they didn't have two brain cells to rub together. Beautiful, but incredibly vapid. I always pictured myself marrying a beautiful man and having beautiful children living in a beautiful house driving beautiful cars and blah, blah, blah. Sadly, I was, well I still am, so concerned with what people from high school and college think of the guys that I date. I want them to see the pictures I post on myspace or facebook and think "Damn! She looks good - and look at her hot boyfriend." But, why do I have ANYTHING to prove to them? The people I truly care about don't care about the GQMP (GQ Model Potential) of a guy that I date. They just want to make sure that he treats me right and I'm happy in the relationship in general.
When I expressed this sentiment to my middle brother, Mike, who has always been the "screw 'em if they don't like it" kind of guy, he seemed relieved that I had finally come to this conclusion.
"Munchkin Butt (his affectionate nickname for me) you're finally growing up."
I personally think that it's more than just growing up. Everyone grows up because everyone has a birthday, but not everyone MATURES. And maybe that's the difference. Maybe I'm trying to mature in the type of people I date and the type of relationships that I form. I'm not looking for some amazingly beautiful guy that I can take out just to impress my friends. In truth, they'd be more impressed if he had a real job with a steady income and could hold a conversation at dinner.
There has been something else running through my neurotic, slightly self-obsessed and very vain little brain lately. All through college and post college up until this point, I always had to be dating the IT guy. Maybe it started with the pressure from the sorority to date only the guys from the hottest fraternity, despite the fact that they were complete neaderthals or maybe I was trying to compensate for not ever feeling like I was considered pretty and "date-able" by the hot guys in middle and high school. Whatever the reason, I dated the beautiful men. The ones that should be on the cover of GQ although they didn't have two brain cells to rub together. Beautiful, but incredibly vapid. I always pictured myself marrying a beautiful man and having beautiful children living in a beautiful house driving beautiful cars and blah, blah, blah. Sadly, I was, well I still am, so concerned with what people from high school and college think of the guys that I date. I want them to see the pictures I post on myspace or facebook and think "Damn! She looks good - and look at her hot boyfriend." But, why do I have ANYTHING to prove to them? The people I truly care about don't care about the GQMP (GQ Model Potential) of a guy that I date. They just want to make sure that he treats me right and I'm happy in the relationship in general.
When I expressed this sentiment to my middle brother, Mike, who has always been the "screw 'em if they don't like it" kind of guy, he seemed relieved that I had finally come to this conclusion.
"Munchkin Butt (his affectionate nickname for me) you're finally growing up."
I personally think that it's more than just growing up. Everyone grows up because everyone has a birthday, but not everyone MATURES. And maybe that's the difference. Maybe I'm trying to mature in the type of people I date and the type of relationships that I form. I'm not looking for some amazingly beautiful guy that I can take out just to impress my friends. In truth, they'd be more impressed if he had a real job with a steady income and could hold a conversation at dinner.
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