Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Monday, August 17, 2015

Words Escape Me

Well hello there. I've been breaking the first rule of blogging lately, which is blog.
That was profound. Maybe you should write this down:

Rule #1 of blogging: Blog.


I haven't been writing lately because of my other rules: be positive, don't complain, work through your feelings first before telling others. Truth is things have been downright exhausting, hard, and sad lately.

To keep all of my rules, I'm not going to go into it as yet. Just know that 2.5 weeks ago I intended to write a plucky piece about other things you can make when life gives you lemons. And I wanted to make this phrase viral:

When life gives you lemons, make lemon curd. 

Curd is such a gross word; it fits.

Here were the pictures for the positive post that I didn't write. This picture symbolized the things going wrong:
make lemon curd


This one represented controlling the "lemons" and making them into something useful and pretty:

bunt those lemons!

Shortly after taking this I almost keeled over because I was taking them on my back porch and overheated. I fled to Target to use WiFi, drink water, and get Advil. (I couldn't go inside my apartment because...it was filled with an asphalt smell. So much lemon curd to be made!)


At any rate, things have been difficult, and one thing I know and learned was after a lot of stress a person's higher level thinking skills (including creativity) plummets. It's simple brain chemistry. My brain was/is trying to help me survive.

I can fight. I can take flight, but unfortunately, I couldn't write. The thoughts were too visceral too raw, more meaningless onomatopoeias than words. It felt so unlike me that I wondered if I had brain damage. I asked friends if I seemed somehow altered, dumber, to test me, to be honest. But really it was my brain on cortisol over far too many days.

I think I see a glimmer after today of finding words again, which is a relief because I need to write to earn my keep.

For me, health and writing are linked, and they come only with quiet, peace, stillness and being alone. Are you that way?

I sat in silence for hours and hours driving. Hours and hours at home all alone. Hours in silent exercise in nature and another hour getting a massage. And I can hear myself writing now in my head.

So today I learned:

Until I am composed, I can't compose. 



Sunday, July 20, 2014

Compare and Contrast: July 15, 2013 vs. July 15, 2014 in St. Louis

Do you remember where you were a year ago today?

A few days ago, I was struck by the contrast of July 15th, 2013 with July 15th of 2014.

Last year, everything seemed to hit the fan at the same time.
I was sitting on the back patio at MediaCross and received a call from my landlord.
Earlier that day, I'd called to tell him there was mold in my apartment and could he relocate me into another unit while the problem was addressed.
 

This was a proactive step for me and very unlike my first dire thought: that the situation was unsolvable.
The call was not the rosy one my friends and family had encouraged me to hope for.

Explaining there was mold and that was why I was calling, he challenged with, "Where's the mold.  Where? Where is it?"  He cut me off, crescendo-ed, and then declared, "All the apartments have mold!"


Oh.


Years before, I had asked, and he told me it was coal dust coming through the plaster. This year it spread more than it ever had. After it appeared in every room from floor to ceiling following the air ducts, I thought he was either wrong or lying.

This declaration told all: lying.

This was upsetting, indeed, but instead of losing composure, I proceeded to sit and listen to my landlord break up with me.  By that I mean, he used all the language of a typical breakup.

"I think we just want different things."

"I don't think I can provide the standard of living you want."

"We've had a lot of problems, none of them were your fault, but I am ready to have us part ways."


I did want different things.
I desired my car to not be towed by my inebriated neighbors...again.
I wanted my oven to work during all months of the year, including November and December.
I did not want my dishwasher and sink to require bailing with a bucket after a rain.
Lastly, I wanted mold to not be growing up every wall in the house impacting the air quality.

"This is the best for each of us."

But this impacted everything. First of all, it meant the death of a dream.
My whole childhood I dreamed to live in Tower Grove.  It's the only dream I remember articulating, beside saying that I wanted to marry with Elvis. (This was an ill-fated desire.)
I had to let go of living near the Botanical Gardens, the park and my daily walk to the library.

Also, I had to put my cat into a emergency care because of his panting and labored breathing.  (This behavior was what caused me to challenge the coal dust explanation in the first place.)

Then, I held a garage sale to purge belongings and was helped by very loving and attentive friends.
Finally and frantically, I moved furniture into friends' homes and moved myself into my parents'.

I continued interning at MediaCross and started preparing for a new school year.

I found a new apartment, moved everything in and then found...more mold.


By August, I had moved 3 times, and then needed to move all of my school materials, files, filing cabinet, etc to a new classroom before the first day of school. By August 15th, I had picked up and moved every object I own in the world at least once.

It was too much. I was buckling under the stress and strain. My life felt fragmented, working in the city and sleeping and commuting from Illinois.  I had a wonderful network of family and friends around me, but they were bewildered as to how to help. One friend confessed it felt like watching a multi-car pileup as it was happening.  You want to help, but how?
It felt just like that.

I won't go through the whole domino effect. Use your imagination and fast-forward one year. (Don't forget to add in being rear ended.) I recommend picturing a montage; it goes faster that way.

On the other side of that series of unfortunate events, I can breathe.

.
Also I can take pictures of my feet, which is a growing symbol for free time.

To my knowledge, I haven't taken for granted having a safe, warm, dry, apartment that would pass health inspections.
I cherish that I am healthy and that Captain is too.

I'm glad to know I have solid relationships and networks of people who want to pitch in even when they don't know where to begin, and there is the likelihood of an explosion or two.

I'm so glad to know that after bouts of stress, unknowns, and lack of direction, the mind can re-awaken:

to beauty,
Credit: Julie Johnson


to humor,
to laughter and playfulness, 
IMG_0014 2014untitled-2.JPG
Credit: Photomaton

and to serving others.

Credit: Gretchen Borzillo
I'm glad I have a second chance at MediaCross, one where I haven't shed tears over housing or anything else. I've just been cheerfully productive!

Mostly, I'm glad that I can wake up to my life everyday.  As unknown as some of the pieces are, as different as it is from what I anticipated it would be, I'm glad call it mine.

Credit: Natalie Waymack



Monday, June 30, 2014

Top 3 Flirting Flummoxes of 2014

Tomorrow is July.
See?


To keep myself on track of my New Year's Resolutions/ Adoptions I'm checking in.
If you want to read the original post, click away.

In reference to the list I wrote for myself to accomplish this year, how is it going?
Am I writing more?  Yes.
Am I telling the truth more...that's a hard thing to measure, but am I expressing true things about myself to others?  Yes, in writing.
It's nice how they all can flow together and cross-promote themselves.
I'm not sure what cross-promote really means, but I think this is close enough.


But flirting?
If there is a learning curve in process, I am wondering has it started to curl yet?
Or to ellipsis?
Or to meniscus?
I love turning Science nouns into verbs and misusing them.  It's a completely Englishy thing to do.

Perhaps it's like the curvature of the earth and thwarts the understanding of the human eye.  I'm going with that, and I'm not completely discouraged about my "progress."
(First, you should know, I do despair from time to time.  And I have been the recipient of grace of friends and family who will come over and just hold me, if I am a sobbing mess.  I get messy and I ugly cry about singleness and dating and rejection.  I think it's important for people to know that.  Life isn't just puppies and kitties; hard happens, and it's important to be loved then. That is a true help.)

Another reason I am not completely discouraged is that I am funny, and I don't really tire of self-deprecating humor.  I hope you've also noticed that self-deprecating humor does not mean making light of my insecurities.  Nor does it entail laughing at my vulnerability.
Those aren't funny, that is a cry for help, and I don't want your help.
I want to give you 3.5 opportunities to laugh.

If a friend shared these with me, guy or girl, if properly executed, I would roll with laughter with them.
I want that for you.

#1
If you haven't read Why am I Still Single? The Answer, let me recap it in 3 run-on sentences.
In a coffee shop, I noticed a man standing behind me using my keen sense of smell.  His cologne wafted over to my nose, but it was faint enough for me to think he was far away (This is largely because men have seen too many Axe commercials and shellac themselves with cologne, which is unfortunate and abusive to noses everywhere.) Upon seeing him VERY near to me in my peripheral vision, I jumped, and I explained the jump by saying I smelled him before I saw him. Admittedly, the other version is better than this synopsis.

#2
I struck up a conversation near some restrooms with a handsome man around February or March while waiting for some friends to come out.  They were taking awhile, and he was leaning on a wall or rail, which is a universally good sign (Source: While You Were Sleeping where Bill Pullman still doesn't convince me that he is a romantic lead.  He makes a much better President/fighter pilot. Source: Independence Day.)
I had the very conscious thought, "Now's an opportunity to flirt,'"as if I were running a SWOT analysis on this scenario.  In a way, I was.

So I said...

"Do you watch Dr. Who?"

I didn't pretend to be interested in hockey, or flip my hair. I went straight for what is possibly the longest running nerdy show out there.
Additionally, I do not watch the show, so where on earth did I think this was going?
He did not watch the show, nor did I. That killed all conversation.


#3 explained in 2 parts 
About 2 months ago now, I started registering the physical proximity from men as a potential attack.

Some foundational information:

If there were a definitive Flirting for Dummies book out there, it would mention the importance of Proxemics.  
I have attached a definition for you to reference, it's a real thing and I know because I took a class on it.
It's highly important in communication and possibly even more so in flirting.  It's also why bars have loud music, so you have an excuse to lean in.  It also hastens alcohol intake.  Yeah.  That's a thing.   Note: This study is not something you site as a way to try to flirt.  I've tried siting research studies while flirting.  Don't do it; it has never worked the way I intended.

These incidents occurred, days apart.

Part 1
Well, in about April, I was walking past a congenial fellow. He raised up his arm in high five greeting fashion and said, "Hey you're here!"
What did I do?

I ducked and protected my face.

I saw the arm raising, doubled over, and protected my head. I wish this was on video or in 3-4 time-lapse photos that I would animate here.
I'm not implying this would have been flirting, had I not felt threatened.  Rather, I think what I do see happening here is the opposite of flirting.

Dropping to the ground is the opposite of flirting.

I know because this is my standard response to being tickled. Tickling is a flirting tactic that I undo by always dropping to the ground. It is horrifying to all interested parties, creating very disinterested parties, rapidly.


Part 2
About 2 days later...
In another environment, with a male friend and a male acquaintance, I was trying to exit and go home.  My guy friend desired me to stick around and go to a dinner party that a girl was hostessing.  I had not been invited to this dinner party, so I was trying to slink away, graciously declining.

I tried to explain my point of view without going into:

1) the higher math that is head counting,
2) the scarcity of food ratio,
3) seating and chair challenges,
4) the secrets of single girls, and
5) etiquette.

This proved difficult.

Having been a hostess myself, here is what I knew, but didn't explain:

DO NOT CRASH A DINNER PARTY.  
I know it's 2014, but there are manners and feelings to consider.  Mine have been not considered when I hostess and it stinks. I don't want to do that to someone else.
Particularly if it is happening in 15 minutes.
Especially if YOU were invited, but it wasn't a plus one sort of thing.
You have no idea the wrath that an uninvited girl showing up to a dinner party with a man can bring. If you have read any Jane Austen novel, use this as a guide.
Dinner parties are an excuse for a single girl to have single men over and seduce them with food.  If the hostess isn't into you, someone at the gathering invariably is.
Now, knowing this, did I want to be "that rude girl," eating chicken, and straddling a table leg because there was no place planned for me?
No, not really.

Still not finding the ability to explain my reticence clearly, the persuasions continued.
The male acquaintance said, "Oh I'll keep her here while you call to see if it's ok for her to come to dinner."
He advanced to distract me, and I...

turned around and assumed a somewhat crouched position that made my butt stick out, balled my hands into fists, and possibly closed my eyes.

If this were a 7th grade basketball game, I would call it boxing out, but it wasn't.

I can't remember what exactly transpired (since my eyes were shut), but offering up my backside and holding my arms up like a T-Rex got some attention.  I explained I thought he was about to grab me and hold me down.  (This is how you get a girl to attend a dinner party without RSVPing, right?)

To which he looked appalled and said, "No, I'm all sweaty."
He also had a soccer ball.

Men: No girl on earth has ever wanted to be grabbed by a sweaty man.  Ever.
Oh wait. Have you even seen the World Cup?**

At any rate, I was not grabbed.  Further, I was allowed to go home, eat my cold pizza, and wonder about why my reflexes had taken a turn toward being easily victimized.

Now.
For my 4th Flirting Flop/Fizzle, I believe I need a different post.  I will have it to you BEFORE July 4th.
I love timely writing pieces, but there's just something about equating flirting with Independence of America that is just wrong.  I like puns, but not enough to cast freedoms I have as a joke.



**Regarding the World Cup:
**If you haven't seen it, let me break it down:
It's like the Miss Universe pageant, except each country sends and entire team of their most swarthy countrymen.  They run around for a month in front of cameras.
Hands off, Mr. Universes, don't touch me.  Don't you know you're sweaty?


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Friday, June 27, 2014

Shushing the Summer "Shouldn't you....?"

I have bouts with doubt.  Doubt bouts about myself.
Recently I wrote about the void that comes between school ending and summer beginning.  I developed a list of things I'm looking forward to doing to help cope.  I even explained to some people that it's a period of grieving.
"Yeah right" one said.
It's possible she thinks Summers for a teacher are like this Buzzfeed article.
Hilarious, open it in a different tab and enjoy, but don't forget to come back here.
And no, it's not like that.

And though prepared for it this time, the jolt of summer that is like stepping off of one of those flat escalators at the airport came.  You know the thing I'm talking about.  The one you nearly fall off with all your bags those first few steps.

Then came this new feeling, one I didn't make a list for, and I don't think I could have anyway.
This is the "You are Being Lazy" feeling.  The "Shouldn't you be  __________ today?"
Don't be fooled.  That blank looks innocent enough, but a whole lot can fit into it.  See?

Shouldn't you be....
getting married/ 
running in a marathon/
investing in the Stock Market/
backpacking through the Amazon/
cooking a turducken 
today?

It's an oppressive blank.


Here are 2 books that delve into it.

1.)

2.)


The latter book, I started reading but it really bummed me out.  Because I am an empath through and through and even when I wasn't feeling or thinking thoughts of acedia or it's impact spiritually, well there it was.  Thanks Kathleen Norris, you made me cry.

The former, I haven't read, but doesn't the title just say it all?  I'm getting it from the library perhaps it can resonate in a non-buzz-kill sort of way.  Some thoughts need laughter to dispel.

Yet again though, bookless (which is a form of vulnerability for me) I decided the only way to tell myself I'm not lazy (besides saying it in a mirror in a creepy way or piling more into my days) was to...you guessed it:

Write 


A



List



If you haven't figured it out already, I write lists.  What's more I'm quite prolific.  If someone would ever pop into my apartment they would see half cooked scraps of lists strewn about.  This is just my mind's way of showing itself scattered as it is and how very easily I lose the thread.
Nevertheless I write because I am a writer.


This reflective act of typing it all out however, really worked well.  It would totally blow if I found, "Oh yeah, I am really lazy.  I've done nothing all month," but that wasn't the case.

Here's what my June has looked like.

June 2: Last day of school with co-workers.  Co-worker happy hour.  Acquired 5 new Llewelyn's cups.  
They are red this season.  Grab them up, St. Louis!
June 3: Clean apartment and "pack" suitcase (quotation marks intended to show procrastination)
Finish book. Paint furniture
June 4: "Clean" apartment. Take Captain to parents' house.  "Pack" suitcase. Paint furniture.
June 5: PACK SUITCASE!  Fly to Denver. Finish book. Reunite with college roommate.  Mountains.
June 6: Denver exploring. Hiking.
June 7: Denver exploring.
June 8: Denver exploring. Hiking.
June 9: Fly to St. Louis.  Attempt flirting on plane. Unsuccessful. Pick up Captain from parents'.
June 10: Start internship at MediaCross (happening Tuesday-Fridays, so assume on each day hereafter)
June 11: Host book club (hosting includes: cleaning and baking and being nice).
June 12: Accepted into University of Missouri St. Louis.  Finished Firefly series. (Only 1 season!?!?!?!)
June 13: Take Kelly to Train station (6:00am) Welcome lunch at MediaCross.
June 14: Nothing (except internship) oh and watching Serenity, the movie that ends the Firefly series.
June 15: Hike with family at Hawn State Park. Celebrate Father's Day.
June 16: Take Captain to vet. Oil Change. Speak to UMSL Advisor.
June 17: Host book club (yes, a different one). Enroll in UMSL course.
June 18: Start grad.class. Get student ID and parking pass.
June 19: Dinner with Kate at Vin de Set.
June 20: A.M. coffee with Natalie. Wedding coordinator training @ rehearsal.
June 21: Wedding coordinator training @ wedding. Homework.
June 22: Attend church with Annie.  Lunch.
June 23: Pick up Kelsey from airport. Homework. See Grand Budapest Hotel. Fall in love with Wes Anderson.  Again. 
June 24: Meet with Kate to discuss Communications Team volunteering. Finish book.
June 25: Dinner at Martha's house.
June 26: Nothing????
June 27: A.M. coffee with friends. Cookout.
June 28: Unknown.

Verdict= Not Lazy
Alternate verdict= Potentially Crazy



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Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Why am I Still Single? The Answer.

Why are you still single?
A bold question if ever there was one.

You would be surprised how very many times I have been asked this.  I believed and assumed (until writing this) that the question was born from a person's deep courage that (unfortunately) overflowed into words. But since finishing writing this post (on paper), I have circled back and concluded that maybe it isn't a surplus of courage but a deficit of tact.
Whatever attribute that is present or absent when asking something so personal, my response is fairly standard.  I reel.
I can't manage to say, "Oh that's private" or "How dare you."   Instead, I typically am so taken aback and startled that I generally give an honest, though halting, answer, not because my audience deserves to know, but because the only thing that comes to the surface is the truth.
But, if I weren't taken aback this is the sort of real-life moment I could relate as my answer.

Why?
Because I am a grown woman who leaves work after a hard day to go buy a chocolate chip cookie and coffee.  But I can't simply buy a cookie and coffee.  Life makes it much more complex than a simple money for goods transaction.

While in line, a person managed to sidle up behind me in my blind spot and stand questionably close- so close that his musky cologne wafted over alerting me.  The scent said "There is a man nearby," so I can only assume the cologne was doing it's job announcing an aura of male-ness.
As I stepped  up in line to order a chocolate chip cookie, I caught sight of him in the corner of my eye and it caused me to jump a little. (He was in fact standing that close.  Had he been a ninja, I would be dead.)
And this is how I recovered after jumping.

Me: Oh!  I'm sorry.
I looked at the man and noticed he is very attractive.  This observation typically ends all chances of a coherent conversation.

Me: I smelled you before I saw you there.

Let that sentence that I really said out-loud hover in the air and 
sink in. 

A feeling of horror passed over my body.  Yes, I said what I heard myself say.

Him: (weak smile) Ah ha.

I stepped forward and started to order.

Me to the barista: I'd like a chocolate chip cookie.

I noticed now that the barista is also attractive and realized how juvenile I sounded at this very moment in time.

Me turning to the smelly man: But that's a good thing.  I mean, it's a good smell.

Me turning to the barista: And I'd like a cup of coffee

Barista: What size would you like? 12 oz.... 14 oz?

Me: Of cookie?

Barista: (silence)
Me: Oh.  I'd like a 12 oz coffee and a 16 oz cookie (joking).

I paid.
I apologized to the man behind me a second or third time.
I gave the barista another "help me" and "did that really happen?" look.
Barista said telepathically: Yes, that really did happen. Walk away now.

I and slink away to find a seat.


Yes world, I say whatever comes to mind instead of mindfully flirting.
I eat cookies after work and lick the chocolate from my fingers in public.
I attempt to be complimentary but instead tell men they smell and forget to tack on the oh-so-important word "good" until it is essentially too late.

You may find that adorable.  That's fine.  It is a true representation of my daily life.  I can say my personality and ability to stumble over words when ruffled gives me plenty of reasons to laugh.  It's good that I am able to laugh at myself while keeping my dignity.

But if you are asking me why I am still single, then that, the above story, is now "The Answer."
I'm going to rehearse it so it comes out smoothly.

Thank you so much for taking such a keen interest in my life, but really, stop asking.
The people who need to know why, know already.  And if you have to ask instead of me telling you voluntarily, then you aren't on my emotional life VIP list.


Thursday, March 13, 2014

An Adopted Family that Stays Together

I would like to preface this post by saying, I love my family.  My mom, my dad, my brother and I are very close in all senses of that word.  I turn to them in times of trouble and times of joy,
but this post is not about them.

Not everyone has the benefit and blessing that is a close biological family,
and that is a shame.

But I have another family that I'd like to tell you about today.

I have friends that I consider to be family.  We have been there for each other over the years and have survived a lot of joys, sorrows and have remained intact.

When we are all together, I often sit back and pull out of the moment and start trying to figure out how this came to be.  I have no idea how my face looks in these moments, quizzical no doubt.
Especially lately I wonder, even aloud, how did I get these people?

And I mean this not as a criticism to myself or to them.  It's a compliment.
This is an astounding bunch of people.

Such a wide span of knowledge and interests.
So many dreams, aspirations, talents, adventures, and accomplishments.
So many different employers and specialties:
The St. Louis Zoo, Boeing, The Covering House, NISA, the VA Hospital, Wash U, Juniper, etc.

One way that this particular branch of my family tree came to be was at one point in time we all were part of the same Community Group, which is similar to a Bible Study.  A lot of us have gone our different ways, but to keep in touch we've started having Family Dinner every 2 weeks.

It doesn't matter if I am sweaty with no makeup, had a horrible or great day, or am running early or late.  By the time I get to dinner, it doesn't disappear, but I am in a safe place.  It's like declaring sanctuary against the world, which feels so good.  Don't we all long to do that?

This week at the table we discussed All the Things as usual.
From Indian food, to Zoo stories (one of my favorite parts of any dinner), to travel, to the Old Testament linking it to the gospel, the St. Louis Beard and Mustache Club, fermentation, raising chickens, where to get nutritional yeast, and the highlight of our friend's year, since it was her birthday.  It's deeply inspiring to hear how they spend their days and live life.

And as I said before, not everyone is blessed with a wonderful biological family.  And not everyone has the benefit of a vibrant support of an adopted geographic family.
But you can get one.

It took work though, and it takes time.  Now it takes planning, because as much as I love my friends, our interests and schedules are so diverse that we don't bump into each other without mapping it out.  (Or maybe it would intersect for me if I would start indoor rock climbing...but, NO.)

I do know that the first step to getting friends is to have the courage to say, "Hey, we should be friends."
I have had the best relationships sprout from this simple sentence.

And the another tip is to have the presence of mind to notice when you miss them and to reject that.  It seems so simple to say and mean, "Hey, I miss you.  Let's fix that," and then make a time right then to see each other; it takes watchfulness to identify and rectify.

I can share more about how to cultivate and be open to friendships, because it has taken so much time and tries and failures and successes over years and years to better get a handle on what it is to have and be a friend, but I won't do that here now.

Instead, for today, in the middle of Spring Break, I am glad to say:
I have a family of friends in the city I love, and I am ever so grateful.



*It is also extremely important to mention that there are even more family members to speak of outside of this branch that shares meals together.  It's just easier to speak of one group rather than the many individuals I love.


Thursday, February 20, 2014

Kill Two Birds with One...Man Cat

Today is Love Your Pet Day, and so I'd like to introduce you to mine.
I've been waiting awhile before saying it outright, but I own a cat.

It's not that I don't love dogs.  I don't believe there are "only two types of people."  I simply don't have the budget to properly love on a dog.  Instead, I have a cat, and I dog sit any chance I can get.

But what is truly on my mind has been the writing process.

A friend of mine recently asked how I decide what to post on this blog and it's associated Facebook page versus my personal Facebook.

I do have some "branding standards" that I won't bore you with, particularly since they are subtle differences. But it can be a challenge generating ideas at times.
So I will be posting semi-regularly what helps me write.

Writing Tip #1

I recommend running ideas past someone you trust.
This brings us full circle.


I have trained my cat to critique my work. He pitches ideas from time to time, but I didn't find his suggestion on a piece about increased smelliness of Iams Purrfect Delights cat food to be compelling enough.  (Though he has a point.  He won't eat it; it stinks to high Heaven, and it is no longer welcome in this apartment.)

But really.  Find someone you trust to share your ideas with and can help you improve.

A Highly Related Tip #2

Also, figure out if you are the type of writer who can stand abrasive let's start from the ground up help or who needs course correction advice.
If you don't know this about  yourself yet, you need to do some digging.  Establishing what your critique tolerance is will only help preserve your friendships/ relationships and help your writing as well.
And, at least in my experience, you can build up to getting more and more truthful appraisals and feedback, if you aren't equip to do so yet.