Things are finally calming down here. Today while she was leaving Grace, who is transferring, made the following statement:
" This is weird, I've never felt so attached to a place before."
Mission accomplished.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
About that...
Northern Michigan’s 15th Annual Drag Show
Approximately one thousand five hundred people filed into the Vandament Area last Friday night to attend Northern Michigan’s University’s fifteen annual drag show. The show featured several drag queens, one gender queer individual. I found the whole night to be entertaining and fascinating. Social deviation from the culturally created gender binary is refreshing and in a lot of ways absolutely hilarious. I believe that the drag show is meant to be kind of freeing for the audience and in that way it marks a transition for me.
For the sake of not diving face first into my own personal story of sexuality development I will only state the facts. Fact One: Last year I was” in the closet.” Every year at the show, drag queen Joey Black tries to identify all the queers in the audience by requesting that everyone who is comfortable clap and cheer when she shouts out the sexual preference one might identify with. One year ago for someone like me this was a horrific, yet eye opening experience. Last year I was so upset that I didn’t have the balls, or in this case the ovaries to identify myself as a queer person I almost cried. Coming to the realization that I wasn’t nearly as accepting of myself as I am to the rest of the LGBT community made me want to change, it woke me up, it scared me out of being afraid. I’ve recognized that this was a major step towards letting my sexuality become just another part of my wholeness and overall identity.
Fact Two: I’ve been working on developing through my experiences accepting myself. This year I attended the drag show with my girlfriend Robin and friends from the Student Finance Committee. In my mind the time had come, at last in some sort of full circle moment I was going to identify myself as queer without any hesitation at all, finally in this room of 1500, I was symbolically accepting myself. Joey black takes the stage; nervousness hits me, a good type of nervousness, but nervousness all the same. Taking the microphone in a gloved hand, she shouts out for a response from the gay men in the audience, then all the straight men, the straight women and then the lesbians. Crushed, I almost shout out with the lesbians just to complete my symbolic circle.In addition to my hesitation Robin's hand slipped into mine pulling downward before I might even think about putting it up.Robin hates the word lesbian. She laughs sheepishly at me. I explain my hesitation to her as if convincing myself that I don't really need my full circle moment. What about me and my simply queer identity?
Fact Three: Even awesomely inspiring drag queens make mistakes, but the gender queer saves us all. After a couple more glorious acts Midwest Gender Queer takes the stage. I’m skeptical of this performer. Jack was identified to the SFC as drag king. When asked specifically if Jack was a drag king or a gender queer Outlook said that Jack was in fact a drag king and that gender queer was incorrect. Though the title gender queer confused me to the point of true curiosity, not much about the title mattered when it came to performance. Jack, though less experienced than the drag queens seemed to care just as much about the message that a performance sent to the audience. Less trained in entertainment Jack wasn't received nearly as well as the queens and at times was far more difficult to watch. Jack was the performer though that thoughtfully added to Joey Black’s spectrum of sexuality and in doing so allowed me to come full circle with my own transition out of the fearful stage of my sexuality development. Jack asked the audience for a cheer, if they defined themselves as bi-sexual, pan-sexual, Trans, or with the generalization of queer. This allowed me and quite a few others to feel for a moment a sense of pride. As I’ve learned more about the development of sexuality spectrum I have realized that it may be hard to ever stop adding to it. Even with the age and experience differences I thought there was a lot to be learned from the entire cast of the drag show.
Approximately one thousand five hundred people filed into the Vandament Area last Friday night to attend Northern Michigan’s University’s fifteen annual drag show. The show featured several drag queens, one gender queer individual. I found the whole night to be entertaining and fascinating. Social deviation from the culturally created gender binary is refreshing and in a lot of ways absolutely hilarious. I believe that the drag show is meant to be kind of freeing for the audience and in that way it marks a transition for me.
For the sake of not diving face first into my own personal story of sexuality development I will only state the facts. Fact One: Last year I was” in the closet.” Every year at the show, drag queen Joey Black tries to identify all the queers in the audience by requesting that everyone who is comfortable clap and cheer when she shouts out the sexual preference one might identify with. One year ago for someone like me this was a horrific, yet eye opening experience. Last year I was so upset that I didn’t have the balls, or in this case the ovaries to identify myself as a queer person I almost cried. Coming to the realization that I wasn’t nearly as accepting of myself as I am to the rest of the LGBT community made me want to change, it woke me up, it scared me out of being afraid. I’ve recognized that this was a major step towards letting my sexuality become just another part of my wholeness and overall identity.
Fact Two: I’ve been working on developing through my experiences accepting myself. This year I attended the drag show with my girlfriend Robin and friends from the Student Finance Committee. In my mind the time had come, at last in some sort of full circle moment I was going to identify myself as queer without any hesitation at all, finally in this room of 1500, I was symbolically accepting myself. Joey black takes the stage; nervousness hits me, a good type of nervousness, but nervousness all the same. Taking the microphone in a gloved hand, she shouts out for a response from the gay men in the audience, then all the straight men, the straight women and then the lesbians. Crushed, I almost shout out with the lesbians just to complete my symbolic circle.In addition to my hesitation Robin's hand slipped into mine pulling downward before I might even think about putting it up.Robin hates the word lesbian. She laughs sheepishly at me. I explain my hesitation to her as if convincing myself that I don't really need my full circle moment. What about me and my simply queer identity?
Fact Three: Even awesomely inspiring drag queens make mistakes, but the gender queer saves us all. After a couple more glorious acts Midwest Gender Queer takes the stage. I’m skeptical of this performer. Jack was identified to the SFC as drag king. When asked specifically if Jack was a drag king or a gender queer Outlook said that Jack was in fact a drag king and that gender queer was incorrect. Though the title gender queer confused me to the point of true curiosity, not much about the title mattered when it came to performance. Jack, though less experienced than the drag queens seemed to care just as much about the message that a performance sent to the audience. Less trained in entertainment Jack wasn't received nearly as well as the queens and at times was far more difficult to watch. Jack was the performer though that thoughtfully added to Joey Black’s spectrum of sexuality and in doing so allowed me to come full circle with my own transition out of the fearful stage of my sexuality development. Jack asked the audience for a cheer, if they defined themselves as bi-sexual, pan-sexual, Trans, or with the generalization of queer. This allowed me and quite a few others to feel for a moment a sense of pride. As I’ve learned more about the development of sexuality spectrum I have realized that it may be hard to ever stop adding to it. Even with the age and experience differences I thought there was a lot to be learned from the entire cast of the drag show.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
dark sky happiness
Tonight in her eyes I can see a dark sky happiness, a peace that is natural to her like oxygen to the earth. She feels a perfect kind of alone, like a grain of sand swept away by the winds of her intellect, blown into a sea of a fitting uncertainty only to settle in the scariest, most beautiful parts of herself.
She builds her shaken soul like a sandcastle, she stands with a strength won't be destroyed by the tide of tomorrow or fade away like a reminder of yesterday. I play with her sunshine, lay on her beaches and skip my deepest secrets like pebbles across the oceans in her eyes. I beg myself for the courage to give her something she might believe in. I write down her wildest dreams in my soul. I scribble them poetically across the roots of the every Burch tree that still stands in the forest of her living, breathing diary. I give them a place where they can grow old.
I swear she bleeds the colors of the wind for I am almost afraid of her. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks hidden agony is beautiful.What does she see when she watches the rain poor from a gray sky? Does she cry for the homeless man who's cardboard castle is doomed to die , or does she grab his hand and remind him how dancing could make him feel like he could fly I wonder if the pain in her eyes is an allusion. Frightened by the very idea that her scars would be too beautiful to wish away. Afraid that she would heal faster than I could bring myself to understand. We are day and night, the latest part of night and the earliest part of the morning, separated by only seconds, a marvelous end and a beautiful beginning. I am swept up in myself until I loose myself within her and we cry a perfect purple into the latest hours of the firefly morning.
She breathes angry like wildfire and only cries when she can do so with the majesty of the ocean. She knows she's a drop of rain, a snowflake unlike any other. I know only of her springtime dreams.She wants to nourish the grass just to watch it grow slowly. She speaks to me as if she is far from herself, like parts of her long to be apart of something to the moon. She's the fog that sits on the horizon. The dew that caresses the grass like it's just waiting to evaporate into the weightless afternoon.She has become the mist that is cast into the atmosphere for sake of making our every encounter a hidden beautiful like the day dream stars in her dark sky evening. She is a natural mystery, I am overwhelmed with a loneliness, the wind blows and the my soul grows weary, she's two inches away and I'm not sure I could scream I love you loud enough for her to hear me.
She builds her shaken soul like a sandcastle, she stands with a strength won't be destroyed by the tide of tomorrow or fade away like a reminder of yesterday. I play with her sunshine, lay on her beaches and skip my deepest secrets like pebbles across the oceans in her eyes. I beg myself for the courage to give her something she might believe in. I write down her wildest dreams in my soul. I scribble them poetically across the roots of the every Burch tree that still stands in the forest of her living, breathing diary. I give them a place where they can grow old.
I swear she bleeds the colors of the wind for I am almost afraid of her. Sometimes I wonder if she thinks hidden agony is beautiful.What does she see when she watches the rain poor from a gray sky? Does she cry for the homeless man who's cardboard castle is doomed to die , or does she grab his hand and remind him how dancing could make him feel like he could fly I wonder if the pain in her eyes is an allusion. Frightened by the very idea that her scars would be too beautiful to wish away. Afraid that she would heal faster than I could bring myself to understand. We are day and night, the latest part of night and the earliest part of the morning, separated by only seconds, a marvelous end and a beautiful beginning. I am swept up in myself until I loose myself within her and we cry a perfect purple into the latest hours of the firefly morning.
She breathes angry like wildfire and only cries when she can do so with the majesty of the ocean. She knows she's a drop of rain, a snowflake unlike any other. I know only of her springtime dreams.She wants to nourish the grass just to watch it grow slowly. She speaks to me as if she is far from herself, like parts of her long to be apart of something to the moon. She's the fog that sits on the horizon. The dew that caresses the grass like it's just waiting to evaporate into the weightless afternoon.She has become the mist that is cast into the atmosphere for sake of making our every encounter a hidden beautiful like the day dream stars in her dark sky evening. She is a natural mystery, I am overwhelmed with a loneliness, the wind blows and the my soul grows weary, she's two inches away and I'm not sure I could scream I love you loud enough for her to hear me.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Reverse Cacoon
Calming are the waves of the ocean of anger that I willing submerse myself in when I paddle back the hours misery and return to our bottomless conversation.
Remember how you were drowning in disappointment, and my not yet resentful words sink like defective life rafts, we have lost ourselves in a storm of honest helplessness and confusion.
My defense is the ugliest part of spring time. My values decompose. Parts of myself that you said seemed to fall from my identity like leaves from a tree . There they are sitting in the ground all winter finally molding and decomposing until they can nourish my roots and help me grow stronger. Roots that you refuse to recognize, you're stuck in your own visions of summer time, how could such a beautiful flower die like that? You look at me like I'm some kind of weed you want to pull out of your garden If our roots weren't so intertwined you might pluck me from the ground as if I didn't bud from you. A butterfly that looks like a moth.Our every encounter makes you wonder how I could emerge from metamorphosis like this. You do your best to build me another cocoon. As if I believe the light in her eyes is the moon and I swarm around them until I they won't light up my world anymore. The world has grown cold and so have I. How can I be killing everything about myself when I've been constantly stopping my own heart to breathe for you? How can everything that you taught me about my identity be lost when all I've been trying to do is find myself?
I bleed silent agony when I cut myself with the pieces of your broken heart. I cry as if I could heal myself with my own tears, or at the very least harbor my own feelings about what matters to me. Shouldn't I harbor you? Or was that ability one of the things swept away by the waves of recreation that have caused my soul to erode so demonically that sometimes we can't speak? If I called you every hour on the hour to say 'Mom, I love you," then might you realize how much I haven't lost sight of myself.
What if I wrote a book about dresses of glitter and tea cups of butterflies? I would dedicate it to us. I would paint pictures of cocoons and caterpillars only mentioning beautiful wings and how they grew. I would never mention the art of flight in case that offends you. Would it heal your heart to know that I remember those things? What part of who I have become shames your maternity? Is it my belief in myself that cuts you the deepest? What did you want for me? Please describe your dreams for me in the the kind of detail that might allow me to stitch together a blanket of accomplishments big enough to cover all the things you tell me you can't understand. I'd give it to you as a peace offering, warm up my heart and show you how the blood in my veins still runs an oxygen deprived blue and hope with all I have that you could find a part of me that still believes in you.
Remember how you were drowning in disappointment, and my not yet resentful words sink like defective life rafts, we have lost ourselves in a storm of honest helplessness and confusion.
My defense is the ugliest part of spring time. My values decompose. Parts of myself that you said seemed to fall from my identity like leaves from a tree . There they are sitting in the ground all winter finally molding and decomposing until they can nourish my roots and help me grow stronger. Roots that you refuse to recognize, you're stuck in your own visions of summer time, how could such a beautiful flower die like that? You look at me like I'm some kind of weed you want to pull out of your garden If our roots weren't so intertwined you might pluck me from the ground as if I didn't bud from you. A butterfly that looks like a moth.Our every encounter makes you wonder how I could emerge from metamorphosis like this. You do your best to build me another cocoon. As if I believe the light in her eyes is the moon and I swarm around them until I they won't light up my world anymore. The world has grown cold and so have I. How can I be killing everything about myself when I've been constantly stopping my own heart to breathe for you? How can everything that you taught me about my identity be lost when all I've been trying to do is find myself?
I bleed silent agony when I cut myself with the pieces of your broken heart. I cry as if I could heal myself with my own tears, or at the very least harbor my own feelings about what matters to me. Shouldn't I harbor you? Or was that ability one of the things swept away by the waves of recreation that have caused my soul to erode so demonically that sometimes we can't speak? If I called you every hour on the hour to say 'Mom, I love you," then might you realize how much I haven't lost sight of myself.
What if I wrote a book about dresses of glitter and tea cups of butterflies? I would dedicate it to us. I would paint pictures of cocoons and caterpillars only mentioning beautiful wings and how they grew. I would never mention the art of flight in case that offends you. Would it heal your heart to know that I remember those things? What part of who I have become shames your maternity? Is it my belief in myself that cuts you the deepest? What did you want for me? Please describe your dreams for me in the the kind of detail that might allow me to stitch together a blanket of accomplishments big enough to cover all the things you tell me you can't understand. I'd give it to you as a peace offering, warm up my heart and show you how the blood in my veins still runs an oxygen deprived blue and hope with all I have that you could find a part of me that still believes in you.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
How Not to Loose Your Best Friend Step Two
When you finally get the chance to sit down with the friend or group of friends you think you are neglecting don't be afraid to act normal.
What happens when you final have that five minutes to spare to see your old friends? I'll tell you what happens...awkward hellos. "I'm here in this place and you don't know it yet but you've missed me," types of hellos are exchanged. Half smiles are dusted with the confusion that accompanies the thought about why we no longer hug are then expressed. Sit down, it's awkward but you've finally made it back to the place that you weren't sure you could actually return to, you know, that place inside your soul were your best friend lives. Here we are sharing the only common experience I believe I can bring up without sounding too reminiscent....I mean being studious. I can still crack jokes, did you know that? I haven't forgotten that much about our friendship, we were always so good at laughing together. Look at us, pretty soon we're laughing at sexual innuendos and drawing copious amounts of attention to ourselves just like old times. Holy shit, I've missed all of you.
It's still weird the way we all walk away without I love you's or friendly embraces, it still bother's me that I haven't been able to see you all semester, but I'm not surprised that you looked at me like I'm still the same person you met two whole years ago. Happy Anniversary, Bro. <3
What happens when you final have that five minutes to spare to see your old friends? I'll tell you what happens...awkward hellos. "I'm here in this place and you don't know it yet but you've missed me," types of hellos are exchanged. Half smiles are dusted with the confusion that accompanies the thought about why we no longer hug are then expressed. Sit down, it's awkward but you've finally made it back to the place that you weren't sure you could actually return to, you know, that place inside your soul were your best friend lives. Here we are sharing the only common experience I believe I can bring up without sounding too reminiscent....I mean being studious. I can still crack jokes, did you know that? I haven't forgotten that much about our friendship, we were always so good at laughing together. Look at us, pretty soon we're laughing at sexual innuendos and drawing copious amounts of attention to ourselves just like old times. Holy shit, I've missed all of you.
It's still weird the way we all walk away without I love you's or friendly embraces, it still bother's me that I haven't been able to see you all semester, but I'm not surprised that you looked at me like I'm still the same person you met two whole years ago. Happy Anniversary, Bro. <3
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
How Not to Loose Your Best Friend:Step One
I am currently in the process of being let go by my best friend. It's a long grueling process. I'm not sure if it's my job, my relationship status, her busy schedule,or the fact that we hardly see one another that has caused us to fall apart. All I know is that I need to check in. I'm pretty sure I'm letting this friendship fade and I'm determined not to let that happen anymore.
Step One: Despite the fact that you no longer hang out as much as you did before, be sure to make awkward conversation when you see your friend in public places.
I know, I know, this seems a little pushy doesn't it? I mean if your best friend no longer wants to talk to you in public or just finds it easier to ignore you why give them the light of day? To words:extra effort. If this friendship really means anything to you keep talking. Everyone wants to feel special. If you feel like your being annoying that's okay. Being an annoying friend is way more effective then being the one who doesn't even glance in someone's general direction.This shows that you aren't ready to give up which is key to rebuilding bridges.
Step One: Despite the fact that you no longer hang out as much as you did before, be sure to make awkward conversation when you see your friend in public places.
I know, I know, this seems a little pushy doesn't it? I mean if your best friend no longer wants to talk to you in public or just finds it easier to ignore you why give them the light of day? To words:extra effort. If this friendship really means anything to you keep talking. Everyone wants to feel special. If you feel like your being annoying that's okay. Being an annoying friend is way more effective then being the one who doesn't even glance in someone's general direction.This shows that you aren't ready to give up which is key to rebuilding bridges.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
She looks like summer and walks like rain...
She reminds me that there is time to change. Oh and there is time; there is time to grow.. Her life seems to be going through some type of metamorphosis that is just about to peak. A butterfly, a gentle comparison she might never acknowledge.A butterfly breaking out of the cocoon she worked so hard to build herself. I wonder if butterflies really get this scared about finally breaking free. No one holds a mirror for a butterfly so they can look at what beautiful creatures they have finally become. I wonder if real butterflies get scared when the cocoon falls out from under them and the have to fly. I wonder if they ever see the reflection of their wings in a puddle of mud and want to kiss all the beautiful colors. I wonder if growing those beautiful tools of flight is a painful process. I wonder if real butterflies wonder why they were made to fly, or if they simply do without question. I'd be her puddle of mud. I'd kiss all her colors and make her see that flight is enough. I'd be the rays of sunlight that break through the window of the second grade classroom to illuminate the escape of the butterfly from it's cocoon. I'll be as awed as the children, I'll discover a new way of learning through her. I would never clip her wings, or keep her for myself. I love the way she freeing herself, but I cant help but want to save the cocoon and remind her that this is why I fell in love with a caterpillar. Beauty is change.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Road.
"Everyone who you read about, all those people have a disorder, they just know how to use it.'
I've heard two really insightful things today, this being the first.I thought about this concept and how it is imperative that I be in touch with what I need when I need it.That in order to become who I want to become I need to know how to use what challenges me most. I've also been thinking about how challenging that is for me as an individual. I've been thinking about the need to feel needed and the other aspects of my interpersonal relationships. I think most of all that I've been contemplating why it is that I continue to become aware of what I need and how those moments of discovery become pivotal points in my life; why is it that no matter what obstacle I face, no matter the challenge, no matter how disordered my life becomes, I've come to a point where defeat and victory are nearly synonymous in relation to the development of my soul?
The second inspirational thing I heard has helped to progress m mind through this. The idea that was placed in front of me today is that I will find the people I need when I need to find them; when I feel like I am on a road alone and experiencing something I feel I can't understand, I am, in fact, right where I need to be. I think the concept of developing my soul through other human beings inspires me more than anything else at all.
Why: In my life, especially in the last three years, nothing has proven to be more true than the idea that I am indeed a beautifully complicated soul, who only becomes more beautiful by becoming more complicated. I have discovered this complex correlation, in the only place I could and that is within myself. I am who I am and honestly I'm not quite sure I want to know everything there is to know about that person. Knowing myself completely would mean that I have lost the ability to surprise and underestimate myself; I would lose the ability to evolve and develop as a human being. This isn't to say that I don't want to explore the realities of my behavior. I want to better myself by being able to define what I value and why. I believe that I've become even more aware of myself lately because I've become astoundingly intoxicated by the way the people around me have been discovering things within themselves. Being here, in my home, with this intelligent and courageous group of young women has become a humbling and soul enriching experience. It is moving to witness someone discovering courage they didn't think they had, relating to others in a way they didn't expect, or searching for support they didn't know they needed, to find it in someone they've known for what seems like not nearly long enough.
I heard today that I have the people I need and that as I progress others will come into my life just as suddenly. I need the people in my life. It continues to astound me how much I become inspired by a five minute conversation with a friend; that alone drives my need to meet more people and truly invest in my relationships with the people I have come to know.
I think all in all this is about being thankful for the people who have unknowingly pointed me in the right direction and reassured me that I need not worry about the constant change. This is about knowing that I have the people I need and trusting within myself. In some ways this is a letter to myself, declaring that I am going somewhere. Despite the challenges, I am on a path that will lead me to love, peace,and goodness, regardless of my changing definitions of all of those things . I'm on a road I won't regret taking with a group of amazing people who are unknowingly leading me to a place I couldn't have known I needed to go.
Peace. Love. Vu.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Keep It Loose, Keep it tight.
Well I walked over the bridge
Into the city where I live,
And I saw my old landlord.
Well we both said hello,
There was no where else to go,
'cuz his rent I couldn't afford.
Well relationships change,
Oh I think it's kinda strange,
How money makes a man grow.
Some people they claim,
If you get enough fame,
You live over the rainbow.
Over the rainbow..
But the people on the street,
Out on buses or on feet,
We all got the same blood flow.
Oh, in society,
Every dollar got a deed,
We all need a place so we can go,
And feel over the rainbow.
But sometimes,
We forget what we got,
Who we are.
Oh who are are not.
I think we gotta chance,
To make it right.
Keep it loose,
Keep it tight.
Keep it tight.
I'm in love with a girl,
Who's in love with the world,
Though I can't help but follow.
Though I know some day,
She is bound to go away,
And stay over the rainbow.
Gotta learn how to let her go.
Over the rainbow.
Sometimes we forget who we got,
Who they are.
Oh, who they are not.
There is so much more in love,
Than black and white.
Keep it loose child,
Gotta keep it tight.
Keep it loose child,
Keep it tight.
Keep it tight,
Keep it tight,
Yaa..
Into the city where I live,
And I saw my old landlord.
Well we both said hello,
There was no where else to go,
'cuz his rent I couldn't afford.
Well relationships change,
Oh I think it's kinda strange,
How money makes a man grow.
Some people they claim,
If you get enough fame,
You live over the rainbow.
Over the rainbow..
But the people on the street,
Out on buses or on feet,
We all got the same blood flow.
Oh, in society,
Every dollar got a deed,
We all need a place so we can go,
And feel over the rainbow.
But sometimes,
We forget what we got,
Who we are.
Oh who are are not.
I think we gotta chance,
To make it right.
Keep it loose,
Keep it tight.
Keep it tight.
I'm in love with a girl,
Who's in love with the world,
Though I can't help but follow.
Though I know some day,
She is bound to go away,
And stay over the rainbow.
Gotta learn how to let her go.
Over the rainbow.
Sometimes we forget who we got,
Who they are.
Oh, who they are not.
There is so much more in love,
Than black and white.
Keep it loose child,
Gotta keep it tight.
Keep it loose child,
Keep it tight.
Keep it tight,
Keep it tight,
Yaa..
Friday, August 12, 2011
Hard Work.
A couple months ago a friend of mine sent me a link to this video. She told me that she wanted me to see it because it reminded her of me. That message changed my life. It reminds me that even when I feel like I'm doing it all wrong, someone else might not see it that way. I don't absorb technical information like some people can. I can grasp a complex concept, but I'm challenged by a lot of factual things. When I think back to this video it reminds me that, maybe I am doing something right. Maybe, despite my awkwardness and tendencies to be weird, people are actually picking up on what I'm trying to do. What I'm trying to do is love, love and accept. <3
Monday, August 1, 2011
Cannonball.
I decided a long time ago what I wanted to do with this year. I'm about to do it. No expectations for myself except that I do my best to be the best. In a nutshell I'm feeling a great amount of nervousness for what lies ahead of me. I find myself eager to jump and then afraid to fall. I find that walking into the future isn't enough. I'll jump or fall. I'm jumping and hoping to God I can fly. (That is a Hitch line) Here goes nothing. 
Monday, June 13, 2011
Bubbles
I didn't do anything overly academic today. Today I helped a three year old girl blow bubbles. It was literally the coolest thing I've done all summer. She was wearing those cute little white tights that every girl is required by unwritten law to wear by age eight.With her white tights he had on the cutest floral dress I've ever seen. It was worn enough to be a hand-me-down. This little girl was beaming with independence. Walking around the party like it was her very own empire. She was in her element, being three, that might just mean that she seemed to undoubtedly enjoy being in a brand new place.
I love witnessing the type of wonder I witnessed in this little girl. She was absolutely thrilled that I helped her blow bubbles, she found joy in both of our successes. It is fascinating to me how much joy kids find in the simple things. I am forever indebted to this three year old for giving me the opportunity to be simple and bubbly when I really needed it.
I love witnessing the type of wonder I witnessed in this little girl. She was absolutely thrilled that I helped her blow bubbles, she found joy in both of our successes. It is fascinating to me how much joy kids find in the simple things. I am forever indebted to this three year old for giving me the opportunity to be simple and bubbly when I really needed it.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
59 days
Today is day two of my two month count down before my return to Marquette.
It is my goal to stimulate my poor neglected brain cells everyday until I am reunited with the academic environment that is higher education.
Today I read this:
www.stumbleupon.com/su/22MJqI/www.scoop.it/t/the-slutwalk-movement
a) This is ridiculous. This is America, I'm not going to stay in the house for fear of wearing the wrong thing outside. Next thing you know they'll tell physical abuse victims that they're just in their houses at the wrong time looking like they could use a black eye. Some people just feed the idea that women are the lesser gender. Bullshit.
b) Slut walk? The word slut is much like the word nigger. I don't understand why people feel the need to redefine something offensive in order to get their point across. Redefining disrespect doesn't make it any less offensive in my opinion. Activism is great; labels are too simple for something this complex. I respect the activism and the message, but I don't think I could ever label myself a "slut" just because I want people to know that I have a right to choose what I want for my body. Hypocritically though, I could see myself supporting this event because it is eye catching and people pay attention to what is being said when activists do things like this. I respect and admire most of what these women and men are trying to do. As a member of Women for Women I am no stranger the power of a provocative or eye catching slogan to persuade an otherwise distracted student. I am just not a fan of redefining slut. I'm a woman, a survivor, a bad ass, adjectives may follow or precede, but I am not, nor will I ever be anyone's slut or bitch, not even my own.
It is my goal to stimulate my poor neglected brain cells everyday until I am reunited with the academic environment that is higher education.
Today I read this:
www.stumbleupon.com/su/22MJqI/www.scoop.it/t/the-slutwalk-movement
a) This is ridiculous. This is America, I'm not going to stay in the house for fear of wearing the wrong thing outside. Next thing you know they'll tell physical abuse victims that they're just in their houses at the wrong time looking like they could use a black eye. Some people just feed the idea that women are the lesser gender. Bullshit.
b) Slut walk? The word slut is much like the word nigger. I don't understand why people feel the need to redefine something offensive in order to get their point across. Redefining disrespect doesn't make it any less offensive in my opinion. Activism is great; labels are too simple for something this complex. I respect the activism and the message, but I don't think I could ever label myself a "slut" just because I want people to know that I have a right to choose what I want for my body. Hypocritically though, I could see myself supporting this event because it is eye catching and people pay attention to what is being said when activists do things like this. I respect and admire most of what these women and men are trying to do. As a member of Women for Women I am no stranger the power of a provocative or eye catching slogan to persuade an otherwise distracted student. I am just not a fan of redefining slut. I'm a woman, a survivor, a bad ass, adjectives may follow or precede, but I am not, nor will I ever be anyone's slut or bitch, not even my own.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Bullshit.
"You don't know what you have until it is gone."
This quote is bullshit. I always know what I have when I have it. In fact, I often appreciate what I have far more then necessary. Though, this is not the case with somethings. Somethings I am afraid that I will never appreciate enough. I should probably clarify that I am not loosing everything. I have received far more in the last couple of months than I plan on loosing in the months ahead. I'm still fully aware of the blessings that seem to be ever present in my life. I'm just saying that I am aware of the greatness that surrounds me and I am aware when some of those things are not as close in proximity to me as they once were. I have an annoying tendency to reflect upon things before they are gone completely. I think about them even more heavily when I have them no longer. I am aware of how lucky I am. I appreciate blessings past, present and future. I know what I've got, even when I'm gone for a while. <3
This quote is bullshit. I always know what I have when I have it. In fact, I often appreciate what I have far more then necessary. Though, this is not the case with somethings. Somethings I am afraid that I will never appreciate enough. I should probably clarify that I am not loosing everything. I have received far more in the last couple of months than I plan on loosing in the months ahead. I'm still fully aware of the blessings that seem to be ever present in my life. I'm just saying that I am aware of the greatness that surrounds me and I am aware when some of those things are not as close in proximity to me as they once were. I have an annoying tendency to reflect upon things before they are gone completely. I think about them even more heavily when I have them no longer. I am aware of how lucky I am. I appreciate blessings past, present and future. I know what I've got, even when I'm gone for a while. <3
Friday, May 20, 2011
Stolen
The human race has long thought of itself ignorantly as the ultimate goal of evolution, as the top of the food chain, the masters of the earth, of the cosmos even. What the humans have long overlooked was the race that towers above them, while living in the very same neighborhoods, for most of the year, effortlessly blending into the crowd, utterly indistinguishable. Yet, this very similar race answers to a higher calling, or perhaps suffers from a rare disorder, and along with the turn of the seasons they make themselves know for three long months. These are what we classify as camp counselors, a both psychologically and physically impossible entity. While relatively hard to spot for most of the year when the days begin to lengthen in the summer months they show themselves. You will notice generally sane and mostly well dressed people disappearing from your neighborhood, do not be alarmed they are not being hurt, they are gathering, you may not see them again until the fall. They are going to spend the summer months acting as a rare unnaturally occurring combination of a judge, doctor, coach, entertainer, and most of all friend. They are out on an impossible mission to undue ten years of damage in just six days. These ordinary people in your neighborhood, these average Joes and Janes, are in fact anything but ordinary. They are super heroes, unbathed kneeling in mud with a questionable case of what appears to be poison ivy, lungs filled with woodsmoke, and a genuine unwavering smile, trying indefinitely to start a campfire in a downpour, because they promised their campers s'mores.
You may wonder why anyone would do such a thing, but long have scholars pondered the very same question to no avail. The money is surely not what drives these creatures into the woods for a summer free of rest or relaxation. For at the end of the summer the average counselor has saved enough to buy one college textbook, a pair of new shoes to replace the pair mangled in the name of adventure, a new package of socks for the same reason, and enough gas to get back to campus.
After hearing this you may feel compelled to ask if any of it is really worth it. But then you would never be able to truly understand. I can try to describe to you why they do what they do, but until you are there until you see it, you will never truly understand. A camp counselor is, for lack of a more perfect word, worshiped by the campers they receive, but this is not why they do it, they are not at all conceited. They do it, all of it, for pickup day, the day at the end of the week when the campers return to your neighborhoods, different, confident. You see, the counselors remember how the campers came to them, some were silent, some may have even been screaming, crying, latched to their parents legs with a death grip. They came terrified and shy, unsure of themselves, ignorant of their true potential. In just six days of unmatched enthusiasm and effort, they leave smiling, joyous, promising to stay in touch forever, bragging about how they walked off the zip platform, the campers are glowing, they are confident, they are unstoppable. This is why the counselors do it, this is what makes them tick, keeps them going, it was never the coffee. To know they have made an impact in the life of child is worth never getting eight hours of sleep, missing out on the summer blockbusters, vacations, and all the other minor inconveniences that go along with the job.
Next time you find yourself in a Wal~mart and you see a rather rushed looking twenty some year old with a cart full of saran wrap, water balloons, and a single candy bar dressed in tye dye, arms strewn with friendship bracelets, muddy untied tennis shoes, and perhaps a questionable smell, take a second to think of how their day has gone so far. Three skinned knees, a bloody nose, five homesick campers, a bee sting, one lost bathing suit, countless "unbearable" mosquito bites, and thirty individual friendship bracelet making lessons to ten people; then look at your watch notice that it is only one o' clock, and realize you are standing next what can only be described as a super hero working each and everyday to change the world
You may wonder why anyone would do such a thing, but long have scholars pondered the very same question to no avail. The money is surely not what drives these creatures into the woods for a summer free of rest or relaxation. For at the end of the summer the average counselor has saved enough to buy one college textbook, a pair of new shoes to replace the pair mangled in the name of adventure, a new package of socks for the same reason, and enough gas to get back to campus.
After hearing this you may feel compelled to ask if any of it is really worth it. But then you would never be able to truly understand. I can try to describe to you why they do what they do, but until you are there until you see it, you will never truly understand. A camp counselor is, for lack of a more perfect word, worshiped by the campers they receive, but this is not why they do it, they are not at all conceited. They do it, all of it, for pickup day, the day at the end of the week when the campers return to your neighborhoods, different, confident. You see, the counselors remember how the campers came to them, some were silent, some may have even been screaming, crying, latched to their parents legs with a death grip. They came terrified and shy, unsure of themselves, ignorant of their true potential. In just six days of unmatched enthusiasm and effort, they leave smiling, joyous, promising to stay in touch forever, bragging about how they walked off the zip platform, the campers are glowing, they are confident, they are unstoppable. This is why the counselors do it, this is what makes them tick, keeps them going, it was never the coffee. To know they have made an impact in the life of child is worth never getting eight hours of sleep, missing out on the summer blockbusters, vacations, and all the other minor inconveniences that go along with the job.
Next time you find yourself in a Wal~mart and you see a rather rushed looking twenty some year old with a cart full of saran wrap, water balloons, and a single candy bar dressed in tye dye, arms strewn with friendship bracelets, muddy untied tennis shoes, and perhaps a questionable smell, take a second to think of how their day has gone so far. Three skinned knees, a bloody nose, five homesick campers, a bee sting, one lost bathing suit, countless "unbearable" mosquito bites, and thirty individual friendship bracelet making lessons to ten people; then look at your watch notice that it is only one o' clock, and realize you are standing next what can only be described as a super hero working each and everyday to change the world
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Wants
I want to write something beautiful.
I want to be understanding.
I want to climb a tree.
I want to go surfing.
I want to watch the sun rise.
I want to let go of the pain with all my might.
I want to laugh until I cry.
I want to see the red wood trees.
I want to coach a team sport.
I want to have meaningful conversations with my residents.
I want to go solo camping.
I want to dance until the break of dawn.
I want to do the walk of shame minus the shame.
I want to adopt children.
I want to see Wild Horses.
I want to go to the Middle East.
I want to see Malta.
I want to teach someone something important.
I want to love someone to the point they can feel it.
I want to change the world.
I want to be understanding.
I want to climb a tree.
I want to go surfing.
I want to watch the sun rise.
I want to let go of the pain with all my might.
I want to laugh until I cry.
I want to see the red wood trees.
I want to coach a team sport.
I want to have meaningful conversations with my residents.
I want to go solo camping.
I want to dance until the break of dawn.
I want to do the walk of shame minus the shame.
I want to adopt children.
I want to see Wild Horses.
I want to go to the Middle East.
I want to see Malta.
I want to teach someone something important.
I want to love someone to the point they can feel it.
I want to change the world.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Encounter?
I'm thinking about heading out to Encounter this weekend with some people I know who are going out there to spend some time with God. I'm wondering if that would be weird. I wonder if even God's people think it is odd that I am developing this really intense relationship with my idea of God and love so immediately.I feel like love, at least the love that I know can be between two human beings, isn't something I need to head into slowly. God is love.
Is it weird that I can understand the humanist perspective of atheism? I mean Atheists aren't terrible people. Atheists aren't devil worshipers. Many atheists love humanity and believe that this world is the something that we are apart of. I can see that. I can see being so wrapped up in the world that needing to acknowledge the higher power that may be there to support life wouldn't seem necessary. After all taking care of the earth and loving one another is supposed to be a ticket to heaven anyway. If only we could truly focus on that love. if we could zone in on love instead of being wrapped up in what is or is not. I think that is why I love this new praise outlet in my life. I can feel the love there. Pure love, the type of love that two human beings spend their lives trying to absorb in one another.That is the humanist part of spirituality that I identify with, but I feel that love and for some reason and I believe it is from God.
Is it weird that I can understand the humanist perspective of atheism? I mean Atheists aren't terrible people. Atheists aren't devil worshipers. Many atheists love humanity and believe that this world is the something that we are apart of. I can see that. I can see being so wrapped up in the world that needing to acknowledge the higher power that may be there to support life wouldn't seem necessary. After all taking care of the earth and loving one another is supposed to be a ticket to heaven anyway. If only we could truly focus on that love. if we could zone in on love instead of being wrapped up in what is or is not. I think that is why I love this new praise outlet in my life. I can feel the love there. Pure love, the type of love that two human beings spend their lives trying to absorb in one another.That is the humanist part of spirituality that I identify with, but I feel that love and for some reason and I believe it is from God.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Like.,
 |
| I speak and this is what people hear. Like blah blah blah. Like blah. I am honestly the one of the least articulate beings on the planet. I need to work on this. Conviction. |
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Lost it.
Today I went all out and lost my self-control. I cried in public again. Tears.
"We are strongest when we are weak." That is what the message was at Water's Edge today. I'm still grasping the concept. I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm begging God to love me, then I think I only do that because no one else does. I also think I'm an idiot because people do love me. Why do I need so much validation? I can't believe I cried. I feel so weak. I feel so vulnerable. I hate that feeling. I hate it.
Breathe. Stretch. Shake.
"We are strongest when we are weak." That is what the message was at Water's Edge today. I'm still grasping the concept. I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm begging God to love me, then I think I only do that because no one else does. I also think I'm an idiot because people do love me. Why do I need so much validation? I can't believe I cried. I feel so weak. I feel so vulnerable. I hate that feeling. I hate it.
Breathe. Stretch. Shake.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Dear God.
I thought she said cancer. I heard her. I think she might have been joking, but I thought I heard her say that they were checking her for cancer. I hope to God that I heard her wrong, that she was just getting checked and that she has no reason to believe that she might have a illness that could claim her life so young. I hope she was joking or maybe they were doing something else and she felt like they were checking her for cancer. God, I hope that was it. I'm worried. I hope she is okay. I need her to be okay.
I'd give her friendship up cold turkey if it would save her life.Other people need her far more than I do and I would give her up if it meant her and I were on the same planet for some 50 more years. Sometimes I believe that no one is capable of love like that woman. No one. I know I may be over reacting, but I'm allowed a bit of an over-reaction being that I value her so. I just won't say that I'm having this intense a reaction to something she won't even let bother her too much. Strongest.Person. Ever.
I hope I can feel like an idiot for writing this if I find out what is really happening.I hope I can look at her and see her bright happy eyes with out the look of anxiety. Please.
I'd give her friendship up cold turkey if it would save her life.Other people need her far more than I do and I would give her up if it meant her and I were on the same planet for some 50 more years. Sometimes I believe that no one is capable of love like that woman. No one. I know I may be over reacting, but I'm allowed a bit of an over-reaction being that I value her so. I just won't say that I'm having this intense a reaction to something she won't even let bother her too much. Strongest.Person. Ever.
I hope I can feel like an idiot for writing this if I find out what is really happening.I hope I can look at her and see her bright happy eyes with out the look of anxiety. Please.
Poetry.
I wrote another poem today. It has come to my attention that in doing so I am constantly absorbing the concept of love and spewing it all over the page, even if that is not actually my intention.Privately in my pessimism I have decided that I know nothing of the sort and that I am like an fictional novelist. Dare I say that I despite my being perplexed by the concept of love, I actually know nothing about it. I see it in other people, observe it, absorb it and to a point envy it. I do need to grow up. I'm like a child. Poetry is supposed to be a reflection of beauty. I feel like I am disgracing the pen writing about this subject I really know very little about. My capacity to love is infinite, however I need to capture some lyrical realism. I need to stop believing in humanity to the point of ignorance.
I am a child.
I am a child.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sing songs.
"Don't forget me I beg. Sometimes it lasts love. Sometimes it hurts instead. Never mind I'll find someone like you." - Adele
This song came on in Starbucks and I think it's a good sign. = )
When it's late I become overwhelmed by this need to appreciate people. Mondays are the worst and yet absolutely the best. Today is Tuesday. I think that it has pretty great potential.. I'm unsure why, but that doesn't bother me.
This song came on in Starbucks and I think it's a good sign. = )
When it's late I become overwhelmed by this need to appreciate people. Mondays are the worst and yet absolutely the best. Today is Tuesday. I think that it has pretty great potential.. I'm unsure why, but that doesn't bother me.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Loss
It kills me to know you are the closest thing I have ever had to loss. It still hurts when I think about all the things that I have that others do not. I hate that loosing you was the closest thing to heartbreak I've ever felt. All these people right here walking because of real loss and real pain. Cancer. Terrible loss. Crazy strength. Fight back and find a cure.
You. Weakness. I can't even look at you. I hate you, the type of hate that manifests its' self into violent terror. In my dreams I'm the terrorist. I am he person I never wanted to be. I'm the bad guy. I'm you and you are me. I'm the killer. I create the loss and you are helpless. You always manage to put up a fight, but I always win. I always beat you within an inch of your life and laugh. I always laugh before you should die, but you never do. You always live and I'm just happy to see you suffer. Suffer. Loss. It's over. It's been over. Take your good directions and go away. Fuck you and everything you've made me see. Fuck everything you've made me dream. My dreams are mine and I wouldn't give you one to save your mother fucking life. Would I? I wouldn't save you. In my dreams I wouldn't save you. I would though. Me. In this world were I am who I want to be, I would save you. In reality I am far more the life saver than I am the killer. I am far more a survivor who goes back into the disaster to save you in spite of who you are. I'm not the killer and I'm not the victim. Hear me mother fucker. I'm not a victim, I would still save you .
You. Weakness. I can't even look at you. I hate you, the type of hate that manifests its' self into violent terror. In my dreams I'm the terrorist. I am he person I never wanted to be. I'm the bad guy. I'm you and you are me. I'm the killer. I create the loss and you are helpless. You always manage to put up a fight, but I always win. I always beat you within an inch of your life and laugh. I always laugh before you should die, but you never do. You always live and I'm just happy to see you suffer. Suffer. Loss. It's over. It's been over. Take your good directions and go away. Fuck you and everything you've made me see. Fuck everything you've made me dream. My dreams are mine and I wouldn't give you one to save your mother fucking life. Would I? I wouldn't save you. In my dreams I wouldn't save you. I would though. Me. In this world were I am who I want to be, I would save you. In reality I am far more the life saver than I am the killer. I am far more a survivor who goes back into the disaster to save you in spite of who you are. I'm not the killer and I'm not the victim. Hear me mother fucker. I'm not a victim, I would still save you .
End of story.
I care far too much about what some people think. I care far too much about what she thinks. End of story. I care far too much about her.I should stop. I need to stop. End of story.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
When I'm on the beach building a sad castle...I love my life thisss muchhhhhhh.
When I'm writing things down. When I'm reading this book. It's all so different. It's all so the same.
Once again I'm torn between the need to feel brilliant and the need to feel young. I am so content just being myself and not choosing between the two. I worry that the more intelligent I feel the less I will feel free and appreciate the small things. I've been thinking about the concept and I've decided that this might not be true and just maybe the opposite could be what is correlational . Maybe.
There is this song by the Foo Fighters called 100 years. If you listen to music you might know it. The lyrics speak to me. I have found lately that it's okay to feel stuck between fifteen and twenty-five. That is were I am at; trying to just accept my resistant growth Believing in all that I am not just what will be. It's tougher than I thought.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Real Tallk.
It isn't really my faith that I'm questioning.I believe with all of my heart that there is a God out there and I believe in a bigger purpose for all of humanity. I mean over all I think that my spiritual health is nearly where it should be.
God and I have a relatively stable relationship.I talk to God all the time. I think what bothers me the most about the church is that I feel like it is trying to give me specific instructions about how to get to heaven. Over all being raised Catholic was a great experience. I think that the faith has played a large role in who I am. I just feel like I don't need a specific set of instructions on how to express my love to God and other people. My relationship with God is my own and I believe that he will provide for me my own path to whatever the greater good looks like.
Here is to finding my own way to God and still being thankful for the church. Here is to always remembering that love is the way to whatever good you may be looking for, God or not.
God and I have a relatively stable relationship.I talk to God all the time. I think what bothers me the most about the church is that I feel like it is trying to give me specific instructions about how to get to heaven. Over all being raised Catholic was a great experience. I think that the faith has played a large role in who I am. I just feel like I don't need a specific set of instructions on how to express my love to God and other people. My relationship with God is my own and I believe that he will provide for me my own path to whatever the greater good looks like.
Here is to finding my own way to God and still being thankful for the church. Here is to always remembering that love is the way to whatever good you may be looking for, God or not.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Dreamer.
Oh, what a constant battle I have with myself these days. I 've been going over these blogs that I've written to myself. Going over how much my perspective has changed over the past year. I think I'm looking for something again. I can't decide if it is something spiritual like Jesus or something piratical like a reinforcement so that my behavior doesn't seem like a total waste of my time.
I understand that it is weird that I'm constantly complaining about his something that I am not sure I ever had. I just wish I could justify all of the effort I've been putting forth with something. Any kind of reinforcement, a job or a hug from someone who really means it. My darling RA came into my room today just to tell me I was great. I loved this of course. I was just left wondering why she would say something like that. What have I done that is so wonderful?
This is my biggest weakness.I need to become better at making myself believe that I am awesome often enough that I believe in who I am and not just my dreams. Sometimes I feel like dreams aren't any good unless you can make them true. I try not remember that too often though. I am a big dreamer and sometimes the process is far too slow for my liking.
I'm difficult.
I understand that it is weird that I'm constantly complaining about his something that I am not sure I ever had. I just wish I could justify all of the effort I've been putting forth with something. Any kind of reinforcement, a job or a hug from someone who really means it. My darling RA came into my room today just to tell me I was great. I loved this of course. I was just left wondering why she would say something like that. What have I done that is so wonderful?
This is my biggest weakness.I need to become better at making myself believe that I am awesome often enough that I believe in who I am and not just my dreams. Sometimes I feel like dreams aren't any good unless you can make them true. I try not remember that too often though. I am a big dreamer and sometimes the process is far too slow for my liking.
I'm difficult.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Days.
I think that this blog's meaning becomes ambigous if I am not more clear about what I'm trying to do. I wanted this blog to be a reflection of my everyday. I wanted it to be a comperhensive list of things that I do on a daily basis that make my life experince unique. I think I am going to start writing about more daily happenings and somewhat less about how I feel. Though I do believe that behavior and emotion are highly corilated, so in that sense my feelings will still all be there.
Most of today was spent in class. I'm going to write a term paper on conformity for PY335. I think the concept of group think and the science behind conformity are closley related.
I had lunch with my SLFP mentor. Ann Sherman was absolutly meant to be my mentor.
I've been praying a bunch today about what to do for the summer. I feel like nothing is going to compare to what I could have been doing. Reluctantly I consider the alternatives as opportunities to better myself for next summer.
I've been thinking today about how much power one individual can have over another.I think that the concept of control is intimidating. I find also that I am amazed by how easily the right words or actions can turn someone's day around. I think I'm going to try and refrain from using facebook to tell people how amazing they are. It's a bit more awkward when said out loud, but I think people grasp things more when told in person.
Most of today was spent in class. I'm going to write a term paper on conformity for PY335. I think the concept of group think and the science behind conformity are closley related.
I had lunch with my SLFP mentor. Ann Sherman was absolutly meant to be my mentor.
I've been praying a bunch today about what to do for the summer. I feel like nothing is going to compare to what I could have been doing. Reluctantly I consider the alternatives as opportunities to better myself for next summer.
I've been thinking today about how much power one individual can have over another.I think that the concept of control is intimidating. I find also that I am amazed by how easily the right words or actions can turn someone's day around. I think I'm going to try and refrain from using facebook to tell people how amazing they are. It's a bit more awkward when said out loud, but I think people grasp things more when told in person.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Young.
I need some more love. I think I'm a love addict. It makes me feel immature. Does that make sense? Not in the I need attention all the time kind of way. I am not drawn to the concept of love because it means someone's attention. I just need to love more. I need to make someone smile. I need to feel like people are not looking through me. I assume that my not looking through people will result in people not looking through me. This is not so. I suppose I should just stop freaking out about nothing. Like I've said previously: My soul is thirteen.
Love. Forever. That is all I know.
I'm listening to this song a bunch lately. It is amazing.
Love. Forever. That is all I know.
I'm listening to this song a bunch lately. It is amazing.
Friday, March 4, 2011
For Colored Girls
I watched the newest installment of the Tyler Perry movie collection yesterday. It was quite complicated. It stared Janet Jackson and other big name black stars like Whoopi Goldberg. I love both of these lovely ladies, but both of their characters were extremely tough and closed off. The whole movie was about struggle (which is my new word) and finding peace after the storm. The whole movie was over run by beautiful poems and articulate fits of emotion during tragic events. It confused me a bit. The poetry was beautiful. The tragedy was terrible. The women were strong, smart, and beautiful even when they were being victimized. I was so perplexed by their pride in their color and astounded by the power they could find in one another. I understand that that was the point of the film. Black Female suicide has been on the rise for years and that is the demographic Tyler Perry was trying to reach by making this work into a movie. It was just so empowering to see the strength that was depicted at the end of the movie.
I sometimes wonder why I couldn't have been woman of color. I think I get that from my family. I've grown up around three or four older cousins who want to be a part of black urban culture. Not only do they want to be, but they are. I get jealous of them sometimes. I feel like they don't believe I value diversity. I feel like they judge me because I attend a university full of mostly middle class whites. They have never really said anything to me about college. I think they don't want to talk about it because they feel like I might try to make them feel subordinate to me. I wouldn't do that though. I love all of them for who they are and what they do. I hope they see that. I can't exactly come out and ask them if they think I don't know anything about urban black culture. I can't just go up to them and tell them how much I value their life experiences. I need them to know that I love and value them.
We are Family.
I sometimes wonder why I couldn't have been woman of color. I think I get that from my family. I've grown up around three or four older cousins who want to be a part of black urban culture. Not only do they want to be, but they are. I get jealous of them sometimes. I feel like they don't believe I value diversity. I feel like they judge me because I attend a university full of mostly middle class whites. They have never really said anything to me about college. I think they don't want to talk about it because they feel like I might try to make them feel subordinate to me. I wouldn't do that though. I love all of them for who they are and what they do. I hope they see that. I can't exactly come out and ask them if they think I don't know anything about urban black culture. I can't just go up to them and tell them how much I value their life experiences. I need them to know that I love and value them.
We are Family.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Lush.
I recently read a book titled Lush by Natasha Friend at the suggestion of my Resident Adviser. The book is written for a younger demographic of readers, but the message that the author portrays to the reader is one that applies to any age group and many situations.
The fictional story unfolds through the eyes of thirteen-year-old Sam who's father is a raging alcoholic. Sam's character is proof that an addiction or disorder of any kind can greatly effect the way an individual views every part of the world. Sam's life seems to be a constant struggle. Friend makes Sam someone that readers can empathize with, even if they haven't been directly effected by alcoholism.Sam is the type of extraordinary student that dwells in every middle school across the nation.She is insecure in most trivial parts of ordinary life, yet she is remarkably brave in every terrible situation that she finds herself in. Readers that can relate to that insecurity and situational bravery are bound to gain something from the depiction of Samatha's experience.
As her father's condition worsens Sam grows tired of having no one she can confide in. Brilliantly, she comes up with a strategy that enables her to communicate with a complete stranger that visits her public library. The person from the library responds and consequently becomes her confidant. Sam shares everything with this person, even the things she won't tell her closest friends. Sam's library pen pal goes by the pen name A.J.K.
The story progresses through Sam's struggle to maintain a relationships with all of the people in her life.It was impossible not to empathize with the way Sam was trying to keep herself from changing too much and yet grow into someone else who is ready to deal mature freindships, new romantic interests, and an addict father. The author does a spectacular job describing and highlighting the minor characters and how the interactions between these characters cause the turmoil in Sam's life. It is easy to see how constantly dealing with the consequences of other people's choices has worn down on Sam. I can recall a time when I had to deal with consequences as a result of another person's decision.Everyone has on of these experiences. Friend does a such great job consistently asking the reader empathize with Sam, it's almost too easy.
I know the story is written well because it was easy for me to identify with thirteen-year-old Sam."I'm twenty years old," I kept telling myself as I read on. "I'm twenty, she is thirteen and I am relating to all of her insecurities. Mature." At first I felt like I hadn't matured at all sense the 8th grade. I was jealous. I was seemed to be a monstrosity at thirteen. Sam is almost popular and voted "best boobs" on one of those rating lists that hopefully only exist in fictional boy's locker rooms. Jealous. I was not, at thirteen, ever voted "best" anything, forget "best insert physical feature here." If it wasn't for this poor girl's struggle with her alcoholic father, weirdly ignorant mother and diverse friendships I would have closed the book feeling subordinate to a fictional character. Despite our differences I was still able to realte Sam to myself and I think that says alot about the fashion the book was written in.
After tragedy strikes Sam feels alone. The library becomes her sanctuary. This is understandable. As the story went on I felt myself identifying with Sam's pen pal A.J.K. A.J.K is a listener and a friend to Sam when she really needs someone.It soon becomes vital for Sam to have a friend who knows what has happened to her.It becomes apparent that A.J.K. is dealing with growing pains too. A.J.K. is more of the helper in their friendshi, but both characters are bonded by their need for acceptance while dealing with identity in two different capacities.
By the end of the book I was attached to both characters and both situations. Again I realized that as human beings it is in our nature to identify with whatever it is our struggles are.It is part of the human experience to get to know ourselves as we try maintain relationships. It sounds cheesy but, life gets ugly and beauty is born in all of those terrible things. Beauty is when I use my struggle with who I am to help someone else. Beauty is every awkwardly meaningful conversation. Beauty is friendship.For me beauty is in acceptance of everything I was at thirteen, everything I am and everything I will be. Every plight is different and I'm not sure that anyone else has interpreted acceptance as the message behind the meaning of Lush, but it's worth the read to find out what any individual interpretation of the book might be like.
To all you "adults" out there who feel you too are thirteen years old when you think about accepting all you have and have not overcome, I think you're beautiful and I accept you.
The fictional story unfolds through the eyes of thirteen-year-old Sam who's father is a raging alcoholic. Sam's character is proof that an addiction or disorder of any kind can greatly effect the way an individual views every part of the world. Sam's life seems to be a constant struggle. Friend makes Sam someone that readers can empathize with, even if they haven't been directly effected by alcoholism.Sam is the type of extraordinary student that dwells in every middle school across the nation.She is insecure in most trivial parts of ordinary life, yet she is remarkably brave in every terrible situation that she finds herself in. Readers that can relate to that insecurity and situational bravery are bound to gain something from the depiction of Samatha's experience.
As her father's condition worsens Sam grows tired of having no one she can confide in. Brilliantly, she comes up with a strategy that enables her to communicate with a complete stranger that visits her public library. The person from the library responds and consequently becomes her confidant. Sam shares everything with this person, even the things she won't tell her closest friends. Sam's library pen pal goes by the pen name A.J.K.
The story progresses through Sam's struggle to maintain a relationships with all of the people in her life.It was impossible not to empathize with the way Sam was trying to keep herself from changing too much and yet grow into someone else who is ready to deal mature freindships, new romantic interests, and an addict father. The author does a spectacular job describing and highlighting the minor characters and how the interactions between these characters cause the turmoil in Sam's life. It is easy to see how constantly dealing with the consequences of other people's choices has worn down on Sam. I can recall a time when I had to deal with consequences as a result of another person's decision.Everyone has on of these experiences. Friend does a such great job consistently asking the reader empathize with Sam, it's almost too easy.
I know the story is written well because it was easy for me to identify with thirteen-year-old Sam."I'm twenty years old," I kept telling myself as I read on. "I'm twenty, she is thirteen and I am relating to all of her insecurities. Mature." At first I felt like I hadn't matured at all sense the 8th grade. I was jealous. I was seemed to be a monstrosity at thirteen. Sam is almost popular and voted "best boobs" on one of those rating lists that hopefully only exist in fictional boy's locker rooms. Jealous. I was not, at thirteen, ever voted "best" anything, forget "best insert physical feature here." If it wasn't for this poor girl's struggle with her alcoholic father, weirdly ignorant mother and diverse friendships I would have closed the book feeling subordinate to a fictional character. Despite our differences I was still able to realte Sam to myself and I think that says alot about the fashion the book was written in.
After tragedy strikes Sam feels alone. The library becomes her sanctuary. This is understandable. As the story went on I felt myself identifying with Sam's pen pal A.J.K. A.J.K is a listener and a friend to Sam when she really needs someone.It soon becomes vital for Sam to have a friend who knows what has happened to her.It becomes apparent that A.J.K. is dealing with growing pains too. A.J.K. is more of the helper in their friendshi, but both characters are bonded by their need for acceptance while dealing with identity in two different capacities.
By the end of the book I was attached to both characters and both situations. Again I realized that as human beings it is in our nature to identify with whatever it is our struggles are.It is part of the human experience to get to know ourselves as we try maintain relationships. It sounds cheesy but, life gets ugly and beauty is born in all of those terrible things. Beauty is when I use my struggle with who I am to help someone else. Beauty is every awkwardly meaningful conversation. Beauty is friendship.For me beauty is in acceptance of everything I was at thirteen, everything I am and everything I will be. Every plight is different and I'm not sure that anyone else has interpreted acceptance as the message behind the meaning of Lush, but it's worth the read to find out what any individual interpretation of the book might be like.
To all you "adults" out there who feel you too are thirteen years old when you think about accepting all you have and have not overcome, I think you're beautiful and I accept you.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Light and Fluffy.
I am going home for spring break. I better work on the pig tails and light and fluffiness that accompanies my home life. I guess it wouldn't hurt for me to seem a little less cinical. I feel badly for everyone that lays eyes on this blog being that it portrays me to be a bit of a conceded bitch.
I'm not all about myself. Promise.
I'm not all about myself. Promise.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Bull Shit.
Dr.Olsen claims that the Justice system is far to harsh with the sentences it gives to most sex offenders. In his opinion it is far too easy to get on the sex offenders list. He called sexual abuse that doesn't involve penetration playing ''Ditty Bop." He argues that in prehistoric days, when sex wasn't seen a morally wrong or right, sex was taught to youngsters by relatives and older friends. I was the most appalled he also brought up how there are studies that show that if a child isn't penetrated by the abuser then all the emotional damage they have as a part of the abuse will literally disappear.He defended that it is proper to put away sex offenders who commit twice, but that's it. It was bull shit. I hated it.
I was so close to walking out today. I regret not walking out. I think he would have followed me out and apologized. I still needed to make a point. I feel badly for not saying something about how offended I was. How dare he be little what happens to people. How dare he.
Yesterday I heard that one of my darlings is reading her story at Hear Us Roar this year. When I found out that she had been sexually assulted I felt my heart break. I felt literal pain for her soul. I still feel it.
I was so close to walking out today. I regret not walking out. I think he would have followed me out and apologized. I still needed to make a point. I feel badly for not saying something about how offended I was. How dare he be little what happens to people. How dare he.
Yesterday I heard that one of my darlings is reading her story at Hear Us Roar this year. When I found out that she had been sexually assulted I felt my heart break. I felt literal pain for her soul. I still feel it.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Worries.
Okay. I'm blogging for a bit of stress relief so here is my rant.
I can't stop thinking about how awesome it would be on summer orientation staff. I had RA selection today. I think I fucked up. I feel like I am not unique enough to be noticed by people who don't know me. I'm terrified of rejection, which is ironic because I value growth so much. I'm scared that everything I do messes everything I have going for me right up. I worry far too much about impressing people. I focus on my self far too often. I'm weird, it's noticeable. I have a dorky laugh. I give off the impression that I would like to be other people. I just want to be me. I feel like I know who that is. I value love.
Acceptance. I need to find it with in myself first.
I'm worried about becoming an RA because I haven't "dealt" with some of my own issues, but I'm confident in my abilities to lead. It's getting around time for self-acceptance week. I read Voices of Courage last week in my own type of preparation. I'm starting to forget how I felt exactly. I can't recall the feelings. I remember the anger but I can't harness it. I think that might be good. I feel guilty for letting myself grow past it.
Tomorrow should be the SOS phone call day. I'm so excited. I still can't stop thinking about how awesome it would be. I keep thinking I threw myself under the bus with the challenges question. I mean now that I think a about camp and things I've made pretty valuable connections with quiet kids. I want this so badly. I start to feel like that's a bad thing, then I remember that it is just my nature to desire things that are important and that is something I can't control.
I can't stop thinking about how awesome it would be on summer orientation staff. I had RA selection today. I think I fucked up. I feel like I am not unique enough to be noticed by people who don't know me. I'm terrified of rejection, which is ironic because I value growth so much. I'm scared that everything I do messes everything I have going for me right up. I worry far too much about impressing people. I focus on my self far too often. I'm weird, it's noticeable. I have a dorky laugh. I give off the impression that I would like to be other people. I just want to be me. I feel like I know who that is. I value love.
Acceptance. I need to find it with in myself first.
I'm worried about becoming an RA because I haven't "dealt" with some of my own issues, but I'm confident in my abilities to lead. It's getting around time for self-acceptance week. I read Voices of Courage last week in my own type of preparation. I'm starting to forget how I felt exactly. I can't recall the feelings. I remember the anger but I can't harness it. I think that might be good. I feel guilty for letting myself grow past it.
Tomorrow should be the SOS phone call day. I'm so excited. I still can't stop thinking about how awesome it would be. I keep thinking I threw myself under the bus with the challenges question. I mean now that I think a about camp and things I've made pretty valuable connections with quiet kids. I want this so badly. I start to feel like that's a bad thing, then I remember that it is just my nature to desire things that are important and that is something I can't control.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Loss.
I just know read a blog about the feelings you get after having lost someone you love with your whole soul. The whole of this young woman's soul being so vast and beautiful that having been given any part of it must have been overwhelming. To be given all of it with unconditional love and admiration must have been something that is unfathomable by someone such as myself. I morn for her.
Having lost someone at such a young age must have made it nearly unbearable. I am so lucky never having lost anyone of major significance. I mean that not in a way that disrespects the souls of those I have lost, but only to say that we should have known each other better. I am so afraid that someone is just going to drop out of my life. I know my fear is nothing in comparison to the pain she feels. Losing her mother. My soul aces for her loss. Knowing that all I've ever "lost" was you almost gives me comfort. Knowing that you are gone and I am that much stronger makes me content.
My life seems so trivial in contrast to her's. My story lacking the significance. I'm so afraid of awkwardness. How did I get this way? I hope I never loose the people in my life and regret the things I long to say, but I will loose or be lost. I hope to love so much that I will never fade away.
Having lost someone at such a young age must have made it nearly unbearable. I am so lucky never having lost anyone of major significance. I mean that not in a way that disrespects the souls of those I have lost, but only to say that we should have known each other better. I am so afraid that someone is just going to drop out of my life. I know my fear is nothing in comparison to the pain she feels. Losing her mother. My soul aces for her loss. Knowing that all I've ever "lost" was you almost gives me comfort. Knowing that you are gone and I am that much stronger makes me content.
My life seems so trivial in contrast to her's. My story lacking the significance. I'm so afraid of awkwardness. How did I get this way? I hope I never loose the people in my life and regret the things I long to say, but I will loose or be lost. I hope to love so much that I will never fade away.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Again with the people in my life.
I'm not sure if blogs are supposed to be as much of a diary type thing as mine is. I may be centered around the things in my life, but this is my blog so I assume that will be accepted.
I had my SOS interview today. I thought it went rather well. As I hoped they would be, Josh and Dylan completely chill people. I think I did a fairly good job. The will to do it is even stronger now. Oh we shall see.
I talked about what a big difference M.Persons has made in my life. This was mostly because they wanted to know who made my orientation. Becky made my orientation. So. Much. Love.
Sit. Wait. Hope.
I had my SOS interview today. I thought it went rather well. As I hoped they would be, Josh and Dylan completely chill people. I think I did a fairly good job. The will to do it is even stronger now. Oh we shall see.
I talked about what a big difference M.Persons has made in my life. This was mostly because they wanted to know who made my orientation. Becky made my orientation. So. Much. Love.
Sit. Wait. Hope.
The warmth of the sunshine.
When I was in the fourth grade I saw a movie about mountains how you can be comfy snowboarding in a bathing suit due to the weird climate in some places. Today is that day in Marquette. It is so warm here. The snow is melting faster than I've ever seen. I know the snowing sky is bound to come back. I hope it does. Today I'll take the sunshine.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The roller coaster is always fun.
Wow. Here is the truth about how tonight just went.
9:00 freak out a bit
930 freak out a bit more
10:00 Start holding my phone in hand and looking at it.
10:15 Start excepting all potential realities
10:30 Shed tear number one
10:45 Shed tear numbers 2- 24 and get in the shower
10:50 More Tears
11:00 Wonder how pathetic I am for being quite upset
11:15 Be really really upset for wanting anything as badly as I want this. It might not be healthy this much desire for one potentially amazing experience.
How will I face the music?
11:23 Decide that the math test I have tomorrow can not wait for tears.College waits for no self-esteem set backs
11:25 Put my hair up. Hear the phone ring. Answer it. Josh!
11:26 Hang Up the Phone. Jump up and down with Agnes.
11:27 Feel like a fool for doubting myself.
11:28 Celebrate with some people outside (quietly) Nearly piss off my RA. Hug her several times.
11:30 Come back to reality. Decide to be myself and hope that how awesome I would be at this shines brighter than these weird ass quirks of mine. Most days I'm thirlled my emotions run about as deep as the sea. Today, I'm just hoping that someone might see what a valuble player of the team I would be. = )
9:00 freak out a bit
930 freak out a bit more
10:00 Start holding my phone in hand and looking at it.
10:15 Start excepting all potential realities
10:30 Shed tear number one
10:45 Shed tear numbers 2- 24 and get in the shower
10:50 More Tears
11:00 Wonder how pathetic I am for being quite upset
11:15 Be really really upset for wanting anything as badly as I want this. It might not be healthy this much desire for one potentially amazing experience.
How will I face the music?
11:23 Decide that the math test I have tomorrow can not wait for tears.College waits for no self-esteem set backs
11:25 Put my hair up. Hear the phone ring. Answer it. Josh!
11:26 Hang Up the Phone. Jump up and down with Agnes.
11:27 Feel like a fool for doubting myself.
11:28 Celebrate with some people outside (quietly) Nearly piss off my RA. Hug her several times.
11:30 Come back to reality. Decide to be myself and hope that how awesome I would be at this shines brighter than these weird ass quirks of mine. Most days I'm thirlled my emotions run about as deep as the sea. Today, I'm just hoping that someone might see what a valuble player of the team I would be. = )
Oh no.
I've been overly confident today. It's 9:45 and still no word on Summer Orientation Staff Interviews. Selection got over at eight, which means they have approximately forty-five minutes to call with in the time they said they would. I want this so badly. I'm so worried. I'm so sad already. I'm sad already and time hasn't even passed yet. I want this. I'm sitting on that fence between complete joy and utter disappointment. I don't wat to fall off into utter disappointment, but there is nothing I can do but wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. I'm waiting. Hoping and waiting.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Pressure.
Remember how I said earlier that growth is one of my core values? Well, I think I'm having a bit of a time of it as of latley. I understand the concept that growth of any sagnificance is often rather difficult. I understand that if I really want to improve any of my skills I'm going to need to be open to feedback and constructive critism, but latley I've been asking for constructive critism and it literaly terrifies me. I'm such a coward sometimes.
I lost my phone when I went sledding this weekend. I'm hopefully going to be able to get another one tomorrow. I need one becuse I have selection coming up. I'm really nervous about selection for both the Summer Orientation Staff and Resident Advisor positions. There are slightly more than five O-Staff positions and almost 37 RA positions. I heard that from Lynnea...side note about Lynnea as a person...she's amazing and I know we both want the same things coming out of RA selection and I'm rooting for her almost as much as I'm rooting for myself., which is with every fiber of my being. Anyway last year there were approximately 48 positions and 70 or so applicants. This year there are approximately 37 positions and probably more applicants than last year. I'm confident in my abilities, but I'm getting pretty nervous.
I lost my phone when I went sledding this weekend. I'm hopefully going to be able to get another one tomorrow. I need one becuse I have selection coming up. I'm really nervous about selection for both the Summer Orientation Staff and Resident Advisor positions. There are slightly more than five O-Staff positions and almost 37 RA positions. I heard that from Lynnea...side note about Lynnea as a person...she's amazing and I know we both want the same things coming out of RA selection and I'm rooting for her almost as much as I'm rooting for myself., which is with every fiber of my being. Anyway last year there were approximately 48 positions and 70 or so applicants. This year there are approximately 37 positions and probably more applicants than last year. I'm confident in my abilities, but I'm getting pretty nervous.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
My mind is racing.
There is so much going on.
President Obama is coming Thursday and I get to help out with the whole event. I am literally volunteering to help with the presidential visit. I do think that Obama's administration is a work in progress. Everything about him is a work in progress. That is what I like about Barack Obama. He's progressive both literally and politically. He is a symbol of learning while attempting excellence.
Women for Women...
I had a dream. I had a dream that I told my mother that I was a feminist. In the dream she told me that I couldn't be a feminist without being a butch lesbian.Well mom.... I proceeded to say fuck a bunch of times. She only responded with shock when I said feminist(making it the new F-bomb). She told me to sit down and be quiet. I need to learn to keep things fluffy. I need to learn to dress up more. What happened to my little girl who liked to dress up? Stop talking about stuff like you're talking to a group Hailey. Light and fluffy. I now hate the words light and fluffy. I used the word feminist like twenty times today. Why must I try so hard to be a rebel child? If only if I was happy with light and fluffy. I'm not even a bad ass. I am in no way radical at all/. I feel like a t-shirt feminist. I'm usually proud of how strongly I care about the issues. Today I hurt for the little girl who was happy with fluffy. Tomorrow I fight hard for the young woman who wants a voice.
Momentary freak out.
Ironically, I was asked to contribute work to a zine today. Not a feminist thing, but after that dream I probably would have jumped at it anyway. It still drives me crazy that someone cares what I have to say. Women for Women basically supports my dream recovery everyday. Thank God.
I need to declare my gender studies minor. I need to do something good for the word. I need to stop being such an awkward dork. I need to earn how to speak in pubic without sounding like a Valley girl. I need to learn to accept myself. I too am a work in progress.
President Obama is coming Thursday and I get to help out with the whole event. I am literally volunteering to help with the presidential visit. I do think that Obama's administration is a work in progress. Everything about him is a work in progress. That is what I like about Barack Obama. He's progressive both literally and politically. He is a symbol of learning while attempting excellence.
Women for Women...
I had a dream. I had a dream that I told my mother that I was a feminist. In the dream she told me that I couldn't be a feminist without being a butch lesbian.Well mom.... I proceeded to say fuck a bunch of times. She only responded with shock when I said feminist(making it the new F-bomb). She told me to sit down and be quiet. I need to learn to keep things fluffy. I need to learn to dress up more. What happened to my little girl who liked to dress up? Stop talking about stuff like you're talking to a group Hailey. Light and fluffy. I now hate the words light and fluffy. I used the word feminist like twenty times today. Why must I try so hard to be a rebel child? If only if I was happy with light and fluffy. I'm not even a bad ass. I am in no way radical at all/. I feel like a t-shirt feminist. I'm usually proud of how strongly I care about the issues. Today I hurt for the little girl who was happy with fluffy. Tomorrow I fight hard for the young woman who wants a voice.
Momentary freak out.
Ironically, I was asked to contribute work to a zine today. Not a feminist thing, but after that dream I probably would have jumped at it anyway. It still drives me crazy that someone cares what I have to say. Women for Women basically supports my dream recovery everyday. Thank God.
I need to declare my gender studies minor. I need to do something good for the word. I need to stop being such an awkward dork. I need to earn how to speak in pubic without sounding like a Valley girl. I need to learn to accept myself. I too am a work in progress.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Today .
Today is my birthday. Twenty years of life I've lived. I'm too much more amazed with today than I am with everyday. Fittingly enough today was Live Learn Lead, which is a program put on through the housing office to develop students into better leaders. There was a discussion about what we value as individuals. I think that the only thing that I really know about who am becoming is were my values are rooted. Before today I had already decided in my mind that over all I value love, acceptance, and service to others. Having made this decision after a long process of thinking about it in my UN 250 class, today it was rather enjoyable to reflect on why. I couldn't be completely open about it of course, because people I know were there and I've noticed that getting sentimental with people in a professional setting leads to awkwardness.
Love:
I think that when knowing someone starts to influence who you are in an incredible way that is when you start to love them. I think that might be why for the mist part we love our families from birth, because they are literally who we are in the biological and psychological sense.That is why I love the people in my life who aren't my family, because they too have become this intricate part of my being. It wasn't until last year that I realized how many people will touch my life. I will always be thankful for that realization.
Acceptance:
Again, last year was really a great experience for me. After the New Year's Dilemma (that's the title these days) Self Acceptance Week (Women For Women) was really a moving experience for me. I think that acceptance goes hand in hand with love. If you can be open enough to the idea of letting someone influence you to the point that you love them then acceptance is the difference between love and simple admiration. The type of acceptance that accompanies love requires that you evolve as a part of someone and they evolve as a part of you.
Service:
I just officially added this one to my list of values today. I guess I'm beginning to realize more and more everyday that life is process. I'm never going to stop writing my story because as long as I'm alive there will be something to say, something to do, something to live for and people to love. I think that is why I value growth so much. Unlike change growth is not related to regression. Growth is progress. Growth is all the reasons life is beautifully complex.
Finally, I write something with substance.
Love:
I think that when knowing someone starts to influence who you are in an incredible way that is when you start to love them. I think that might be why for the mist part we love our families from birth, because they are literally who we are in the biological and psychological sense.That is why I love the people in my life who aren't my family, because they too have become this intricate part of my being. It wasn't until last year that I realized how many people will touch my life. I will always be thankful for that realization.
Acceptance:
Again, last year was really a great experience for me. After the New Year's Dilemma (that's the title these days) Self Acceptance Week (Women For Women) was really a moving experience for me. I think that acceptance goes hand in hand with love. If you can be open enough to the idea of letting someone influence you to the point that you love them then acceptance is the difference between love and simple admiration. The type of acceptance that accompanies love requires that you evolve as a part of someone and they evolve as a part of you.
Service:
I've realized that I have enough passion for good to change the world. I think that I may have decided this in SLFP. I think that what really inspired me was my obsession with education and the service that teachers provide for students everyday. I like to think that one day I will be able to spread my passion for education to people in the Congo. The women in the Congo deal with a huge amount of sexual assault due to a war based on exploitation of the natural resources that can be found there.I think education could stop that shit. I know, why education? I mean no one was thinking about educating the the Nazi's while they were killing the Jews. How could that help? I don't know. I just feel like if people weren't so desperate for resources because they learned other methods for sustaining themselves then we could stop rape in the Congo with education.I might be ignorant to the real issues.Growth:
I just officially added this one to my list of values today. I guess I'm beginning to realize more and more everyday that life is process. I'm never going to stop writing my story because as long as I'm alive there will be something to say, something to do, something to live for and people to love. I think that is why I value growth so much. Unlike change growth is not related to regression. Growth is progress. Growth is all the reasons life is beautifully complex.
Finally, I write something with substance.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Stupid.
You posion my thought process. I can't think around you and I start to sound like an idiot. I get this weird feeling that you dislike me. I can't stand it and it makes my heart ache, literaly it is painful for me. I just don't know what to do.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Goodbye
Friday, January 28, 2011
I'm blank.
I need something. I can't figure out just what I need. I just know that something feels like it is missing again. I just don't want to be this blank anymore. I feel so empty and I don't know why.
I think it's love that I want. Love for anything. Love for God I think. I think that the faith is missing again, I need him. I need to feel him in my life. I know that some people aren't spiritual and it is fine with me if they are happy that way, believing in science and that is all. I just can't seem to fit my head around not worshiping God. I think I'm floating some where between Catholicism and Christianity. I'm afraid to walk away from the church. I'm not even sure if that is honestly what I want. I just know that I need more God. I need to love him more. I need to feel that love. I need to live in that.
I think it's love that I want. Love for anything. Love for God I think. I think that the faith is missing again, I need him. I need to feel him in my life. I know that some people aren't spiritual and it is fine with me if they are happy that way, believing in science and that is all. I just can't seem to fit my head around not worshiping God. I think I'm floating some where between Catholicism and Christianity. I'm afraid to walk away from the church. I'm not even sure if that is honestly what I want. I just know that I need more God. I need to love him more. I need to feel that love. I need to live in that.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
I'm still scared.
I have no idea what to do. I believe that everyone has a purpose and that perhaps she is a broken road of sorts. Being that I'm the broken one and she is simply a beautiful path. The most beautiful path, that I want to follow to the end. Alas, I cannot because it is becoming clearer to me that this path is for someone else to take and of course I will have to blaze my own.
I do apprciate the beauty though, and how far she has brought me.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Ready. Set. Go.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Pushing Myself.
I've been pushing myself as much as I can. Pushing myself to workout, pushing myself to talk to more people, pushing myself to let go of my insecurities and pushing myself to try new things. Things are going well for right now. I mean besides the money situation, I officially don't have enough money to buy my social psychology book..I've charged far too much money on my account for school. Spending six hundred dollars in textbooks means I'm economically challenged for the rest of the semester. Oh the ups and downs of college life.
I started the whole teaching assistant bit for Introduction to Gender Studies.I had my first official office hour today, I'm quite excited about the whole thing. The whole subject is very fascinating. I never realized how much the norms society are influenced by gender. People fascinate me so, I am perplexed by the nature of human beings. Issues of gender are exceptionally interesting. I sometimes try to analyze myself and what people think of me. My mother says I have definitely taken on a masculine nature despite my strong feminist values.Being that I value what she thinks I always analyze what she says. Sometimes I think that I might be different. I think then that life as a process calls for evolution and I need not feel bad for evolving.
I started the whole teaching assistant bit for Introduction to Gender Studies.I had my first official office hour today, I'm quite excited about the whole thing. The whole subject is very fascinating. I never realized how much the norms society are influenced by gender. People fascinate me so, I am perplexed by the nature of human beings. Issues of gender are exceptionally interesting. I sometimes try to analyze myself and what people think of me. My mother says I have definitely taken on a masculine nature despite my strong feminist values.Being that I value what she thinks I always analyze what she says. Sometimes I think that I might be different. I think then that life as a process calls for evolution and I need not feel bad for evolving.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
To the girl who forgot she needed me a little.
Dear Friend,
I can't tell you if we are growing apart or if we might just be drifting away from any mutual interest we may have had. I miss you. I mean I see you everyday, and we still laugh and hang out for maybe five minutes at a time when I ask you to listen to me. I can't remember the last time that you just came over to tell me something without being asked. I don't remember the last time you wanted to tell me something just to tell me about it. I'm not sure we even have mutual friends, sometimes I feel like you want me to know you could get on without me, that I have no actual significance in your everyday.
I want to drown in music and forget that I still need you in my life.
Your friend? .
Hailey
I can't tell you if we are growing apart or if we might just be drifting away from any mutual interest we may have had. I miss you. I mean I see you everyday, and we still laugh and hang out for maybe five minutes at a time when I ask you to listen to me. I can't remember the last time that you just came over to tell me something without being asked. I don't remember the last time you wanted to tell me something just to tell me about it. I'm not sure we even have mutual friends, sometimes I feel like you want me to know you could get on without me, that I have no actual significance in your everyday.
I want to drown in music and forget that I still need you in my life.
Your friend? .
Hailey
Friday, January 14, 2011
Yesterday Tara told me that I helped her believe in love. It's funny how much I want to do with my life, but most of all I just want people to know that love is a behavior and is the most fulfilling thing I have ever experienced. I believe in it above all else.Love is what I want to do for the rest of my life. Love. <3
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Under the Influenece.
I am constantly overwhelmed by the large number of good people that walk in and out of my life on a regular basis. I am excited to go home and see all the wonderful people that are in Marquette. This winter break was far more enjoyable than the last one as a result of the presence of certain people. My life is constantly changing for the better. I am always living under the influence of the spectacular people who inspire me. I'm excited to get back to Marquette, but I will be forever grateful for the awesomeness of people everywhere.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Service.
Graduate school? The Peace Corps.? TOMS? Missions Team?
I know after I graduate with my B.S. from Northern I will be spending time doing some serious service. I haven't decided how yet, of course. The peace Corps however, pays off my student loans and nearly pays for a master's degree at the same time. This of course is looking like an awesomely affordable way to do what I want to do.Right now I'm simply weighing all the options.
"To give real service you must add something which cannot be bought or measured with money, and that is sincerity and integrity." ~ Douglas Adams
Whatever it is, you can bet I'll be doing it for the right reasons. <3
I know after I graduate with my B.S. from Northern I will be spending time doing some serious service. I haven't decided how yet, of course. The peace Corps however, pays off my student loans and nearly pays for a master's degree at the same time. This of course is looking like an awesomely affordable way to do what I want to do.Right now I'm simply weighing all the options.
"To give real service you must add something which cannot be bought or measured with money, and that is sincerity and integrity." ~ Douglas Adams
Whatever it is, you can bet I'll be doing it for the right reasons. <3
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Taylor Mali Typography
I found this on the Facebook wall of one of my appealingly intellectual friends. I think the poem is brilliant and I do desire to be articulate enough to explain my beliefs with conviction.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
