Today someone at work found out I was a cheerleader in high school, and determined that I was a snotty, popular mean girl when I was a teenager. Which made me laugh because I was much more like the out-of-place girl trying too hard to be a part of a group that didn't really want me. Don't get me wrong, I had the core little group of best girl friends - Dorothy, Juli, Lori - but by no means was I popular. And I definitely wasn't cool enough to be a "mean girl" because that would imply that I had any sort of power. I'm pretty sure I had stonewashed jeans at one point. So... yeah.
This conversation with my friend at work unleashed this memory I have from elementary school, proving that I was no "mean girl" but was instead terrorized by the "mean girls" - who exist even in grade school and who are possibly even worse at that age because somehow they manage to shape who you are for the rest of your school-age years.
I'm not sure what grade I was in but it was young - maybe 3rd or 4th grade. Recess still happened, so it was young. I remember playing on one of those big metal ship things with a group of girls whose names I will not disclose but who to this day I feel bitter towards in completely irrational ways. I don't know how it happened other than they needed no reason to gang up on the weak one of the group but they did it anyway - because that's what mean girls do their whole lives. They pinpoint the weaker one and gang up, picking that person apart until they are left a sniveling and insecure shell of their former self. And so, while I don't remember exactly what happened, I absolutely remember every one of these four girls pulling my hair and kicking me but mostly pulling my hair while I crouched on the ground crying and begging them to stop. If it happened today they would probably take a video on their iPhone and post it to Facebook, after which I would find it online and sue them for brutality and win and then make a Lifetime movie about it to teach young girls about the dangers and injustices of bullying.
Instead, they grew bored and left me laying there and when I recovered, I got back up and spent the majority of the rest of my school-age days trying to fit into the popular crowd with this group of back-stabbing bitches who never got nicer and only got meaner and uglier and more powerful. Years later after it no longer mattered to me if I ever gained any of their approval, I saw one of them post on Facebook that she just hated high school because the memories were so painful for her, because everyone in school made her miserable, etc etc etc. And I had to laugh because although I don't remember her being anything but pretty and desired by all the boys, she clearly had some issue that she can't get past either. And I so badly wanted to reply to her post that she was beign ridiculous and she ruined my life by making my youngest grade school years miserable with her bullying, contributing in large part to the insecurities from which I would suffer for years and years to come.
And then I had to really really remind myself that I'm past all that and I'm a better person and all that. And I'm still reminding myself, because every once in awhile I run into someone who thinks I was some popular cheerleader in school who had it all - some little rich girl who never wanted for anything - and I have to remember how much hard work it took to get to the point where I could stand up straight and look people in the eye and how long it took me to look myself in the mirror and see anything but pimples and glasses. But the most important part is that now I can.
And I hope, oh I hope, that there isn't some girl out there who is remembering me as her "mean girl" because I don't remember being mean, but maybe I was. And if I was, I'm so sorry.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Regrets Come Easy
I don't consider myself a depressed person, or someone who suffers from depression or mental illness as a rule. I do think, however, that all of us suffer with bouts of depression from time to time, whether our chemicals are imbalanced or not. And a lot of it has to do with some repressed regret about your life, in my completely unprofessional/unlicensed opinion. I'm a firm believer that if you have navigated your whole life truly with no regrets and always happy go lucky, you're either lying to yourself or doing something wrong.
The people who live by a "No Regrets" rule are feeding themselves a crock of shit soup if you want my honest opinion. To be for real - you truly can manage to navigate your life without feeling regret for one thing or another? I have regrets from when I was, like, 9. No one has the presence of mind to decide on a regret-free life at any early enough age to actually make it happen.
So while we can all do everything possible to live a "regret-free life" after we have done many things worthy of regretting that perhaps we just don't want to admit to ourselves were regretful, despicable ideas, certainly I'm not the only one who has a whole slew of memories from my younger years that I wish I could forget. Because these memories, not the more recent ones from years of bad decision-making in my 'should have known better years', are the ones that genuinely make me cringe. These are the memories that visit me in the dark of night and keep me from falling asleep for the sadness I feel after I relive them. They probably seem really trivial to anyone else, including the people that I believe I hurt, but I feel genuine angst for my younger self, who couldn't have known any better.
One such memory - I was young, I don't know how old, and I had gotten my ears pierced. They mildly hurt, and I had to keep twisting those little gold studs to keep the holes from getting infected. I was scared to take the studs out of my ears, but the time had come where it was safe to take them out and replace them with cute earrings. I was too embarrased to tell my mom that I was scared, so when she came home from a special trip to the store to buy me cute new earrings, instead of being excited and happy which is surely what she was expecting I cried and locked myself in the bathroom (or clost? memory is fuzzy). She tried and tried to get me to come out and change my earrings but I stayed in there forever, refusing to come out. I dont' even remenber if I changed out the earrings afterwards. What I regret is that my mom did somethign really nice for me and I didn't appreciate it at all, and I feel bad that she was probably excited to come home and show me the present she bought for me and instead she was met with a screaming, crying little brat.
So this is the sort of thing that keeps me up at night - not the normal regret like being angry about sleeping with some guy or missing out on a great promotion.
The people who live by a "No Regrets" rule are feeding themselves a crock of shit soup if you want my honest opinion. To be for real - you truly can manage to navigate your life without feeling regret for one thing or another? I have regrets from when I was, like, 9. No one has the presence of mind to decide on a regret-free life at any early enough age to actually make it happen.
So while we can all do everything possible to live a "regret-free life" after we have done many things worthy of regretting that perhaps we just don't want to admit to ourselves were regretful, despicable ideas, certainly I'm not the only one who has a whole slew of memories from my younger years that I wish I could forget. Because these memories, not the more recent ones from years of bad decision-making in my 'should have known better years', are the ones that genuinely make me cringe. These are the memories that visit me in the dark of night and keep me from falling asleep for the sadness I feel after I relive them. They probably seem really trivial to anyone else, including the people that I believe I hurt, but I feel genuine angst for my younger self, who couldn't have known any better.
One such memory - I was young, I don't know how old, and I had gotten my ears pierced. They mildly hurt, and I had to keep twisting those little gold studs to keep the holes from getting infected. I was scared to take the studs out of my ears, but the time had come where it was safe to take them out and replace them with cute earrings. I was too embarrased to tell my mom that I was scared, so when she came home from a special trip to the store to buy me cute new earrings, instead of being excited and happy which is surely what she was expecting I cried and locked myself in the bathroom (or clost? memory is fuzzy). She tried and tried to get me to come out and change my earrings but I stayed in there forever, refusing to come out. I dont' even remenber if I changed out the earrings afterwards. What I regret is that my mom did somethign really nice for me and I didn't appreciate it at all, and I feel bad that she was probably excited to come home and show me the present she bought for me and instead she was met with a screaming, crying little brat.
So this is the sort of thing that keeps me up at night - not the normal regret like being angry about sleeping with some guy or missing out on a great promotion.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Internet Speed Bumps
Okay so I hate, no... despise, the practice of websites forcing you to prove you're not a robot by entering a word or combination of characters displayed on a screen before it will let you proceed to the next page. Some of them tell you that such practices serve a dual purpose by using what you enter to help turn real live books into digital books. I mildly approve of this practice so up until recently I haven't minded terribly entering a copy of the characters I see on screen in order to advance to the page I wish to go to. LIke I said, until recently. Now they're making them so difficult. First off, how are we supposed to get past this virtual speed bump when you can't even decipher what characters are on the screen? They're working so hard to make sure we're not some sort of hacker that they're making it impossible for us to get to where we want to go. Plenty of websites have missed out on getting my money because I haven't made it past this step on the first try, and I refuse to try more than once. The other day I did try more than once and it was so cryptic that after no less than FOUR tries I still couldn't get past, so I had to give up
This really pisses me off. I suppose that what pisses me off is that we as a people have backed ourselves into this impossible corner where we rely on technology to the nth degree and yet we are also terrified of it at the same time, and this presents a major inconvenience to those of us who are just trying to innocently navigate our lives using the means which are expected of us by the corporations and employers who provide us our livelihood. Which just really annoys me. If we didn't want to be dependent on this shit, why did we allow it to take over our lives in the first place? And why are we allowing it to become even more integral to our daily operations? Who of us can imagine a day without iPhone or our digital camera or the least our plain old cell phones?
I watched "I Know What you Did Last Summer" this morning, which is not all that old, and all I could think the whole time was "why don't they just call each other on their cell phones?" until I realized that cell phones weren't really popular then and not everyone, including me, had one when that movie was popular.
So anyway, I'm sick and tired of these internet speed bumps and am considering boycotting every operation that requires you to pass through one. No more internet shopping, no more internet reservations. I do not want to play into the hands of the people who believe that no matter how impossible they make it for us to use their websites, we will just accept it because we have no other choice. We do have a choice and that is to remember what we did 10 years ago, when life was a tiny bit simpler and we were all surviving just fine.
This really pisses me off. I suppose that what pisses me off is that we as a people have backed ourselves into this impossible corner where we rely on technology to the nth degree and yet we are also terrified of it at the same time, and this presents a major inconvenience to those of us who are just trying to innocently navigate our lives using the means which are expected of us by the corporations and employers who provide us our livelihood. Which just really annoys me. If we didn't want to be dependent on this shit, why did we allow it to take over our lives in the first place? And why are we allowing it to become even more integral to our daily operations? Who of us can imagine a day without iPhone or our digital camera or the least our plain old cell phones?
I watched "I Know What you Did Last Summer" this morning, which is not all that old, and all I could think the whole time was "why don't they just call each other on their cell phones?" until I realized that cell phones weren't really popular then and not everyone, including me, had one when that movie was popular.
So anyway, I'm sick and tired of these internet speed bumps and am considering boycotting every operation that requires you to pass through one. No more internet shopping, no more internet reservations. I do not want to play into the hands of the people who believe that no matter how impossible they make it for us to use their websites, we will just accept it because we have no other choice. We do have a choice and that is to remember what we did 10 years ago, when life was a tiny bit simpler and we were all surviving just fine.
Just When I Was Starting to Get Homesick...
It snowed in the Northeast. In October. So yeah... nevermind.
In other news, went on a helicopter ride last week that may have changed my mind on rollercoasters. I have never been so thrilled as I was on Tuesday when the pilot starting bobbing and weaving and all manner of fun stuff in air that I would have expected to send me into a tailspin of vomiting and crying. Instead I wanted more more more. After that I'm thinking maybe I would like roller coasters after all. But probably not. But this is enough to convince me to maybe try. Maybe. Don't tell my husband.
In other news, went on a helicopter ride last week that may have changed my mind on rollercoasters. I have never been so thrilled as I was on Tuesday when the pilot starting bobbing and weaving and all manner of fun stuff in air that I would have expected to send me into a tailspin of vomiting and crying. Instead I wanted more more more. After that I'm thinking maybe I would like roller coasters after all. But probably not. But this is enough to convince me to maybe try. Maybe. Don't tell my husband.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Finding a Voice You Feel Comfortable With
Perhaps not everyone struggles deeply with finding an outer voice that fits them. I am sure there are certain personality types, certain types of people, who feel more comfortable speaking out than others. I am of the variety who must analyze every word I say before it escapes through my lips, who worries for hours after I have spoken up that what I said was stupid or wrong or silly.
My goal, my New Years Resolution (if I can make one three months before I'm supposed to) is going to be to become comfortable with what I have to say. What makes human beings so exceptional is our capacity to think for ourselves and to have differing, and opposing, viewpoints. This should not be looked upon as a fault if one person differs from others in a group, or if one person has questions about a topic that everyone else seems to feel comfortable with. In fact, it is increasingly becoming my experience that, when I muster the courage to ask my question, I am met with a certain extent of uncertainty from the person who presumably should know the answer right away. Our willingness to ask questions is an example of our ability for critical thinking and problem-solving, a virtue not a weakness.
If any of us are in a situation where something gives us reason to pause, or we get that feeling that something is not quite right - we must speak up. More often than not, your intuition will be right and some issue, be it minor or critical, will be uncovered because you dared to ask for clarification.
Still, although I am learning this lesson it is a hard one to put into practice for me, because I am still getting comfortable with my own voice. Yesterday I got cold-called from a lady who just jumped right into the conversation by telling me she was from the "Vote No to Charter Amendment 3 coalition" and could she count on my vote against this bill. Before I would have probably said yes just to avoid any further conversation and hung up, after all - how would anyone know that I have zero intent to go vote either yes or no for this amendment. And then I thought, no - how dare you call me demanding that I commit to vote no to this amendment without even offering to talk to me about it. And I have actually wondered what it is when I drove by various Vote No signs recently. So I asked her to tell me more about the amendment, and she rushed through an explanation that I didn't understand but it had to do with the local police force, which I actually happen to really care about. So I asked again and she gave me the same boiler plate explanation and asked again for my commitment to vote no. Before - I might have just said yes. But this time i told her I would not commit to voting no for the amendment because I didn't know enough about it.
And guess what. Hail and locusts didn't rain from the sky. I didn't die of a heart attack. She didn't laugh at me or call me names. She simply thanked me for my time, told me there is a Facebook site, and hung up, and I felt glad that I was honest with her about my intent.
It isn't easy - but we all must find our voice, our ability to use our voice. Without it, we are just pawns playing in to other people's agendas.
My goal, my New Years Resolution (if I can make one three months before I'm supposed to) is going to be to become comfortable with what I have to say. What makes human beings so exceptional is our capacity to think for ourselves and to have differing, and opposing, viewpoints. This should not be looked upon as a fault if one person differs from others in a group, or if one person has questions about a topic that everyone else seems to feel comfortable with. In fact, it is increasingly becoming my experience that, when I muster the courage to ask my question, I am met with a certain extent of uncertainty from the person who presumably should know the answer right away. Our willingness to ask questions is an example of our ability for critical thinking and problem-solving, a virtue not a weakness.
If any of us are in a situation where something gives us reason to pause, or we get that feeling that something is not quite right - we must speak up. More often than not, your intuition will be right and some issue, be it minor or critical, will be uncovered because you dared to ask for clarification.
Still, although I am learning this lesson it is a hard one to put into practice for me, because I am still getting comfortable with my own voice. Yesterday I got cold-called from a lady who just jumped right into the conversation by telling me she was from the "Vote No to Charter Amendment 3 coalition" and could she count on my vote against this bill. Before I would have probably said yes just to avoid any further conversation and hung up, after all - how would anyone know that I have zero intent to go vote either yes or no for this amendment. And then I thought, no - how dare you call me demanding that I commit to vote no to this amendment without even offering to talk to me about it. And I have actually wondered what it is when I drove by various Vote No signs recently. So I asked her to tell me more about the amendment, and she rushed through an explanation that I didn't understand but it had to do with the local police force, which I actually happen to really care about. So I asked again and she gave me the same boiler plate explanation and asked again for my commitment to vote no. Before - I might have just said yes. But this time i told her I would not commit to voting no for the amendment because I didn't know enough about it.
And guess what. Hail and locusts didn't rain from the sky. I didn't die of a heart attack. She didn't laugh at me or call me names. She simply thanked me for my time, told me there is a Facebook site, and hung up, and I felt glad that I was honest with her about my intent.
It isn't easy - but we all must find our voice, our ability to use our voice. Without it, we are just pawns playing in to other people's agendas.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Mystery Solved
Well, after tossing all of the food in the fridge, dumping the ice in the icemaker, and washing every assemblage inside, we discovered the source of the horrible egg smell. The water filter had gone bad while we were on vacation and the nasty water sat there going bad all this time. Problem solved. Heading to home depot for a new water filter and then to stock back up on beer and frozen pizza. Yay.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Fun and Sad Text Messages
Tonight I got a text message from my friend that said she was at a bar in West Chester celebrating WCU's homecoming and that the floor she was standing on was covered in broken Corona bottles and limes. On the one hand, this was a fun text that made me laugh and text back something along the lines of "miss that!" and then go raid my stinky refrigerator for a beer or five so that i could pretend to relive my college days - none of which featured Coronas by the way. Where are these kids getting their money? We were lucky to have Natty Lights - normally we hung out at the corner bar that sold 50 cent beers out of miniature sized beer mugs most likely washed in lukewarm day-old dishwater. Even my present lifestyle doesn't include Corona beers seeing as I made the massive step up to Coors Light upon getting a job that paid marginally more than my rent and my car note combined. Digressing... I am drinking Coors Light.
On the other, much more promiment, hand, this was a sad text that made me miss living in the Northeast where the majority of my friends are. If I was there, I would be out at the bar pretending to be 20 again and celebrating Homecoming, the significance of which I have never understood. But I don't, so I'm not. Which is probably a good thing but I do miss my friends. Maybe I would miss them a little less if stupid Hurricane Irene had not screwed up my plans to visit them this summer. Speaking of which, I have a pack of 12 custom coozies that say "Anchor Splash 2011 - Avalon, NJ" on them sitting on my kitchen counter that I never got to give out - too bad my friend Paco does not have one to stick her Corona and lime in right now.
On the other, much more promiment, hand, this was a sad text that made me miss living in the Northeast where the majority of my friends are. If I was there, I would be out at the bar pretending to be 20 again and celebrating Homecoming, the significance of which I have never understood. But I don't, so I'm not. Which is probably a good thing but I do miss my friends. Maybe I would miss them a little less if stupid Hurricane Irene had not screwed up my plans to visit them this summer. Speaking of which, I have a pack of 12 custom coozies that say "Anchor Splash 2011 - Avalon, NJ" on them sitting on my kitchen counter that I never got to give out - too bad my friend Paco does not have one to stick her Corona and lime in right now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)