As some of you may know, and as I have come to see through the drop off in readership through my weekly hit counter, I have not posted for 15 days. That is over two weeks. The maintenance of regular postings, two to three times a week, that I had hoped to be consistent with from the summer is harder than I thought. It is not for lack of interesting, random, sugar-high and caffeine-buzz, or educated thougts occurring in my head. On the contrary, being around a larger number of friends and peers as well as being back into a technical, academic setting, the volume is overflowing.
I'm just lazy sometimes.
I am a bit behind in my application process for employment. My graduate class is harder than I expected. Ordinary Differential Equations kicked my ass for a bit. I had some personal questioning in the relationship department. My romantic life blossomed into a million roses that make me smile with every step I take in the dull mud of Troy's streets in the fall.
I turned 21 on Sunday. No revelation or magical excitement occurred, save for the fact that I can actually go out with friends to drink and have more options than my normal nightcaps. In my recent writing, my greatest challenge, apart from consistency in frequency, appears to be thought and order. This posts perfectly orchestrates that idea since my soul really does reflect a bit much.
I am 21. I feel old. I was very tempted to resign, give up, and shut down this blog due to difficulty in maintaining my literary love child, however, I recently read through the comments of my last post. One was a drunk posting by a friend with a decent deal of thought behind it, and the other was a thoughtful post by my youngest sister Lizzy. My baby sister Lizzy can form educated arguements about the conditions of discrimination in today's society. My baby sister.
Now I feel old.
Condescention is an annoying trait in anyone, and unfortunately I am guilty of it through my protectionism and love for my sisters. For those who know me personally, you maybe already aware that I tolerate almost no level of moves, come-ons, hitting on, jokes, or any form of sexual line about my sisters. I am an overprotective sister. I am aware I smother. I love them. Through my own hardships, they are the world to me. There is nothing that I would not do for either of them. The hinderance of my love is that it is very easy to idolize a younger, more innocent, version of them to protect. Both of them are sometimes frozen in a moment of elementary school in my mind, back when the three of us were all at the same school. I could lead by good example, I could protect from snots in their class and on the bus, and I could be there to swap fruit snacks.
I can't do that anymore. I can lead by example still, and it is rewarding that all three of us have a sisterly relationship with a greater friendship feel instead of hierarchy, but the knight in shining armor is dead. The knight had to put a dress back on again and relocate to tea parties. I want to be there to ward off boys, high school drama, bad college study habits and just be there in every sense.
I am both proud and saddened by the aging of my sisters. My youngest is in her final year of high school. She is beautiful, intelligent, amazing, and still a thorn in my side occassionally. I love her and our middle sister with the intensity of a thousand suns, and for once, there is not any sarcasm painted onto that phrase. Regular posting as well as the growth and maturity of my darling little sisters are just things that I'm going to have to get used to. Both rewarding and disheartening at the same time, time goes on.
In the words of my mom and many other people wiser than myself, getting old's a bitch.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Because Feminists Actually Hate Everything
I normally attempt to publish a balanced blog in many aspects, including the overall tone and emotions that base the individual postings. Unfortunately though, since a good majority of my blogging subjects arise from unpredicted events or thoughts in my day, it is not always easy to sway or maintain that balance. Compounding that with the fact that my smartphone enabling me to not be on my computer 24/7, schoolwork being in full swing, and that I have been enjoying a happy and rewarding social life, means that I have not blogged in a while, so the negativity is surfacing to the top like the cream in a mug of coffee you've left out for too long.
I am a supervisor at RenXchange, the student arm of the Annual Fund in charge of receiving donations and connecting with alumni, at RPI. Being a supervisor entails charting the attendance of callers, assigning them through our calling program, SmartCall, prepping announcements, setting up games and selcting Jeopardy questions and other duties in the beginning of the night. When you have around 20 people entering the room, these tasks can take some time and thought, which is why we normally schedule two supervisors to work together.
On Sunday, I was scheduled to work both shifts, one during the afternoon and one during the evening with about a two hour break in between. Shortly after the first shift, my fellow supervisor texted me asking if she could be late for the second shift we were to work together. I responded that she could due to our loving, awesome relationship. I knew that this would mean that I would have to do all of the start of shift activities. I knew what I was getting into work wise. I was not aware of human behavior responses.
We select Jeopardy questions from an online archive of past televised games. Normally I do take the time to select and screen past games, but being in a bit of a rush due to a double workload, I clicked on and selected the first Celebrity Jeopardy game I could find. From the categories available in the selected game, I chose: City Nicknames, Shoes, Chick Flicks, Dorothys Rebeccas & Summers, Bad Hair Days and 4-Letter Anatomy.
Apparently I was actually selecting categories to push a radical feminist ideology down my poor callers' throats. While Dorothys Rebeccas & Summers did not register many complaints, but simply avoidance, the categories "Chick Flicks", "Shoes" and "Bad Hair Days" drew outcries of injustice from more than one male caller. I was accused of biasing the categories, of swaying the intellectual ability, of being unfair and picking "girly" categories. Apparently anything remotely female completely renders the male brain useless and incompetent. None of the male callers asked for clarification on the types of questions in each of those selected categories, even though "Bad Hair Days" dealt with the hair of both sexes and three out of five of the "Shoes" questions were about Harley Davidson, Chuck Taylors, and Nike.
None of my accusers seemed to comprehend that I had just done the work of two people, so it could be expected that quality might not be up to its normal par. None of my accusers seemed to be flexible to different categories or patience for me to find a new game, rather the overall message, through both phrasing and tone was that "female" categories are inferior to others.
When discussing this with Chelsea, she offered up her own anecdote of when she was deciding how to decorate her residents' doors. Selecting a superhero, she chose Wonder Woman and had to prepare herself mentally for backlash of why male residents had a girl on their doors. Remarkably for her, no negative criticism was voiced, save for the complaint that Wonder Woman does not seem to have many recognizable arch-enemies or villains. Her unspoken mental argument was this: if she had put Superman on everyone's doors, would the girls have complained? No, but somehow, if a guy has a Wonder Woman picture on his door it becomes a grave injustice against him, his gender and emasculates him.
It both perplexes and frustrates me that this ideology still exists in society, especially the educated bubble where I dwell. The flip side is even more frustrating. If I as a woman, speak openly about some injustice or something I find biased towards men, then I become judged for being an angry, feminist crybaby who wants the world handed to her on a platter. Whatever happened to both being equal? Feminism does not support superiority, nay, the very essence of it at its core is equality between the sexes, so then I ask, what is so threatening to men about anything female?
I am a supervisor at RenXchange, the student arm of the Annual Fund in charge of receiving donations and connecting with alumni, at RPI. Being a supervisor entails charting the attendance of callers, assigning them through our calling program, SmartCall, prepping announcements, setting up games and selcting Jeopardy questions and other duties in the beginning of the night. When you have around 20 people entering the room, these tasks can take some time and thought, which is why we normally schedule two supervisors to work together.
On Sunday, I was scheduled to work both shifts, one during the afternoon and one during the evening with about a two hour break in between. Shortly after the first shift, my fellow supervisor texted me asking if she could be late for the second shift we were to work together. I responded that she could due to our loving, awesome relationship. I knew that this would mean that I would have to do all of the start of shift activities. I knew what I was getting into work wise. I was not aware of human behavior responses.
We select Jeopardy questions from an online archive of past televised games. Normally I do take the time to select and screen past games, but being in a bit of a rush due to a double workload, I clicked on and selected the first Celebrity Jeopardy game I could find. From the categories available in the selected game, I chose: City Nicknames, Shoes, Chick Flicks, Dorothys Rebeccas & Summers, Bad Hair Days and 4-Letter Anatomy.
Apparently I was actually selecting categories to push a radical feminist ideology down my poor callers' throats. While Dorothys Rebeccas & Summers did not register many complaints, but simply avoidance, the categories "Chick Flicks", "Shoes" and "Bad Hair Days" drew outcries of injustice from more than one male caller. I was accused of biasing the categories, of swaying the intellectual ability, of being unfair and picking "girly" categories. Apparently anything remotely female completely renders the male brain useless and incompetent. None of the male callers asked for clarification on the types of questions in each of those selected categories, even though "Bad Hair Days" dealt with the hair of both sexes and three out of five of the "Shoes" questions were about Harley Davidson, Chuck Taylors, and Nike.
None of my accusers seemed to comprehend that I had just done the work of two people, so it could be expected that quality might not be up to its normal par. None of my accusers seemed to be flexible to different categories or patience for me to find a new game, rather the overall message, through both phrasing and tone was that "female" categories are inferior to others.
When discussing this with Chelsea, she offered up her own anecdote of when she was deciding how to decorate her residents' doors. Selecting a superhero, she chose Wonder Woman and had to prepare herself mentally for backlash of why male residents had a girl on their doors. Remarkably for her, no negative criticism was voiced, save for the complaint that Wonder Woman does not seem to have many recognizable arch-enemies or villains. Her unspoken mental argument was this: if she had put Superman on everyone's doors, would the girls have complained? No, but somehow, if a guy has a Wonder Woman picture on his door it becomes a grave injustice against him, his gender and emasculates him.
It both perplexes and frustrates me that this ideology still exists in society, especially the educated bubble where I dwell. The flip side is even more frustrating. If I as a woman, speak openly about some injustice or something I find biased towards men, then I become judged for being an angry, feminist crybaby who wants the world handed to her on a platter. Whatever happened to both being equal? Feminism does not support superiority, nay, the very essence of it at its core is equality between the sexes, so then I ask, what is so threatening to men about anything female?
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Superficial Conundrum
While it is still September, time passes faster than we expect. With that in mind, my 21st birthday is in less than a month, and consequently, Halloween is right around the corner. For many years growing up I was a witch until high school when I dabbled in the classics of being a cowgirl and a 1950s girl, poodle skirt and all.
College came and the dress code limitation flew out the window. That is about all the introduction you need for the precedenting the fact that I was, misguidedly, dressed up as Tinkerbelle freshman year. Sophomore year, with the fever of Dark Knight, I was primed to do a joint costume and be Tim Burton's imagining of Catwoman personified in Michelle Pfeiffer. Unfortunately the neccessary materials did not arrive in time forcing me to default to the transformed Sandy from Grease. At least I helped make Byron a kickass classic Robin costume. Junior year was nothing extraordinary being a mix of flapper and showgirl.
Senior year may be the year of spandex. In a nerdier, truer me, I am currently stuck perplexing over two costume ideas. The first is to be Sheik from LoZ, however, this requires a large investment of both time and cash since I would have to handmake an entire costume with bodysuit panelling. The other alternative is to order a costume, being Padme from Star Wars Episode II in the collosium scene. Yes that movie sucked almost as Episode III, but you have to admit, boots + jumpsuit + blaster = hot. You can't argue with that logic.
I hope to make this decision by the end of the week for either prep time or order processing. What say you folks? Video game or movie?
I really do appreciate when my readers read and comment.
Therefore if you read this post, PLEASE COMMENT!
College came and the dress code limitation flew out the window. That is about all the introduction you need for the precedenting the fact that I was, misguidedly, dressed up as Tinkerbelle freshman year. Sophomore year, with the fever of Dark Knight, I was primed to do a joint costume and be Tim Burton's imagining of Catwoman personified in Michelle Pfeiffer. Unfortunately the neccessary materials did not arrive in time forcing me to default to the transformed Sandy from Grease. At least I helped make Byron a kickass classic Robin costume. Junior year was nothing extraordinary being a mix of flapper and showgirl.
Senior year may be the year of spandex. In a nerdier, truer me, I am currently stuck perplexing over two costume ideas. The first is to be Sheik from LoZ, however, this requires a large investment of both time and cash since I would have to handmake an entire costume with bodysuit panelling. The other alternative is to order a costume, being Padme from Star Wars Episode II in the collosium scene. Yes that movie sucked almost as Episode III, but you have to admit, boots + jumpsuit + blaster = hot. You can't argue with that logic.
I hope to make this decision by the end of the week for either prep time or order processing. What say you folks? Video game or movie?
I really do appreciate when my readers read and comment.
Therefore if you read this post, PLEASE COMMENT!
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Wish List Wednesday!
It's that time again folks since I'm back into the swing of things with school, blogging, and sickness! Nothing says back to school like being a walking ball of congested mucus! Every year in college, it never seems to fail that I get sick in the middle of September; I don't know why considering I eat a balanced diet, work out regularly, and try to get 6-8 hours of sleep every night. Karma and my stress just like to work against me I guess.
Anywho, I am sick. Very very sick. I missed my geology I lab this morning. I do not miss class. I do not like missing class, and in short this is an abomination to my soul. I woke up feeling horse, tired, congested, with a sore throat, painful chest cough, mild headache, and a feeling that my whole body ached. Being sick sucks. Therefore the theme of this Wish List Wednesday is designed with an aesthetic towards the medicinal.
First off, if money was no option and comfort was in mind,
Who wouldn't want a fainting couch? Laying around just got more glamorous.
Secondly, one could argue that this doesn't need to be on a wish list, since it is listed at $7.80 and I can purchase it in the store, but I don't have a car. I feel wretched. We're going to go with it.
The "Tao de Fruit" tea from Teavana is one of my favorite herbals, and at the rate that I'm consuming tea, a greater stock is always welcome.
Lastly, at home we have several Pendleton blankets. For those of you who haven't heard of them, they are the most comfortable, warm, and sturdy blankets known to man.
It is a goal of mine in life to have a cedar chest full of these.
With the conclusion of this week's Wish List Wednesday, here's hoping that I don't die tomorrow.
Anywho, I am sick. Very very sick. I missed my geology I lab this morning. I do not miss class. I do not like missing class, and in short this is an abomination to my soul. I woke up feeling horse, tired, congested, with a sore throat, painful chest cough, mild headache, and a feeling that my whole body ached. Being sick sucks. Therefore the theme of this Wish List Wednesday is designed with an aesthetic towards the medicinal.
First off, if money was no option and comfort was in mind,
Who wouldn't want a fainting couch? Laying around just got more glamorous.
Secondly, one could argue that this doesn't need to be on a wish list, since it is listed at $7.80 and I can purchase it in the store, but I don't have a car. I feel wretched. We're going to go with it.
The "Tao de Fruit" tea from Teavana is one of my favorite herbals, and at the rate that I'm consuming tea, a greater stock is always welcome.
Lastly, at home we have several Pendleton blankets. For those of you who haven't heard of them, they are the most comfortable, warm, and sturdy blankets known to man.
It is a goal of mine in life to have a cedar chest full of these.
With the conclusion of this week's Wish List Wednesday, here's hoping that I don't die tomorrow.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Killing Time and My Liver
Hello folks, all four of you that read my blog. I am currently in the process of better composing my thoughts for part two of my last blog post, but in the meantime I have turned to the substances that make my life a bit more cheery. I made dark chocolate brownies with butterscotch chips last night after having a delightful dinner of a mango teriyaki salmon with stir-fry vegetables.
(Bad picture of my brownies)
Today I had a BLT at Francesca's downtown with Chelsea, and for dinner I made French onion soup with a salad and toast. The moral of the story is that butter, chocolate, and cream help. They don't solve your problems, but damn, they do try to help. The one "vice" food that is currently omitted from my diet of self pity is red wine. Due to silly legal constraints (1 month and 4 days folks!) it takes me longer than I'd like to obtain the burgundy goodness, making its absence from my apartment much too noticeable. With all this time to contemplate the despairing labyrinth that is my mind, I ask you readers, whoever you may be, what is your favorite kind of wine? White or Red? Type?
Any specific recommendations for something new?
(Bad picture of my brownies)
Today I had a BLT at Francesca's downtown with Chelsea, and for dinner I made French onion soup with a salad and toast. The moral of the story is that butter, chocolate, and cream help. They don't solve your problems, but damn, they do try to help. The one "vice" food that is currently omitted from my diet of self pity is red wine. Due to silly legal constraints (1 month and 4 days folks!) it takes me longer than I'd like to obtain the burgundy goodness, making its absence from my apartment much too noticeable. With all this time to contemplate the despairing labyrinth that is my mind, I ask you readers, whoever you may be, what is your favorite kind of wine? White or Red? Type?
Any specific recommendations for something new?
Daily Grind Part 2...Also Known as "Duh"
Unfortunately, there is no trace of nutella to be found in my apartment; on the bright side I made dark chocolate brownies with butterscotch chips.
We have all heard that there is beauty in the little things. The simple sudden surprises in life are really what color the pages of our lives. From the movie "Zombieland", I believe that rule #32 is "appreciate the little things". Time and time again I have heard things of this accord, however, although the previous statements originally served as the backbone for this post, they will not be the focus.
Initially appreciating the little things, both special quirks and gestures of appreciation, seemed to be the cure and moral to my relationship puddle of frustration. For those of you who follow me according to my postings and in real life, I am currently in a relationship. While we technically started dating in July, my travels back home and to the Shore, along with our combined work schedules, have caused disruptions in our dating time line. What, chronologically, is two months, is actually half that. Perhaps it simply seems more to me due to my feelings. I try not to divulge too much of my personal life that is directly linked to others on the internet, but I like him.
I really like him.
Having a less than subpar year, or in my prefered term a social nuclear cloud, for relationships both romantic and not last year could give me baggage. It did. It could also have set me up for lower standards, transformed into a cynical pool of hatred and distrust. I am very glad it didn't, but I think that is due to the fact that I have some trust issues to begin with. The baggage slung over my shoulder, under my arm, and strapped to my hands hasn't seemed to interfere though. I really like this guy. Affection rendered me to the level of an annoying air-headed teenage girl over the summer. Like like like. Butterflies in the stomach feelings; those haven't been present for a long while.
This is the reflection point where I almost hope that my boyfriend doesn't read this blog so he doesn't have to roll his eyes at me some more.
In regards to those feelings, everything has been fairly cloud nine for me and us, considering the schedules we have to work with, or so I thought. Bringing me to the conclusion in this two part blog is the "duh" moment, the public service announcement of life: communication is vital and necessary for a healthy relationship. Our schedules caused a bit of a rainy front to conglomerate in my cloud nine. Not seeing someone you care about sucks, however, holding it against them and beating yourself up only sucks more.
Before the action that propelled this post, I was mustering up the gusto to write about appreciating the little things as a way of just getting by, however, as pointed out to me by my boyfriend, the minimum should not be the goal. While there certainly exists value in the little things, you should strive for happiness. Why force yourself to live on bread and water in the desert if the option of steak and potatoes exists? None of this would have occurred to me if I had not done one simple task. Talk to him.
In a two part conversation through AIM and in person, compromise was reached. Sides were understood. I had an end to overly judging and critiquing my every behavior and emotional response. I could go into a lot of psycho babble about upbringing, models of communication and relationships, but I am currently working to separate myself from anything that might be deemed negative in an attempt to better observe it and objectively form intelligent, caring decisions. Communicating with your partner is un-ignorable. Without communication you don't have a relationship. Trust, love, and respect are in there too, but hopefully I don't have any issues with those and no need to write a blog post wringing my insides tighter than my suit after water polo practice. Maybe if you're lucky, a good talk will also lead to a good cuddle.
Who doesn't enjoy a good cuddle?
I am aware that most of this post boils down into one sentence, maybe a paragraph at most of what you should take away from this, or chuckle at me about. You would think that I know to talk to my boyfriend concerning issues. The knowledge is in my head, just sometimes remembering to use it is a bit more difficult. Heck, explore my brain in ODE's while I'm trying to remember back to first semester freshman year in Intro to DiffEq. So yes, "duh" this is obvious, "duh" I should know this, but every once in a while, remembering how to do those things that make a relationship work make the cuddle that much better.
As a final note, what I've been listening to while creating the final composition:
We have all heard that there is beauty in the little things. The simple sudden surprises in life are really what color the pages of our lives. From the movie "Zombieland", I believe that rule #32 is "appreciate the little things". Time and time again I have heard things of this accord, however, although the previous statements originally served as the backbone for this post, they will not be the focus.
Initially appreciating the little things, both special quirks and gestures of appreciation, seemed to be the cure and moral to my relationship puddle of frustration. For those of you who follow me according to my postings and in real life, I am currently in a relationship. While we technically started dating in July, my travels back home and to the Shore, along with our combined work schedules, have caused disruptions in our dating time line. What, chronologically, is two months, is actually half that. Perhaps it simply seems more to me due to my feelings. I try not to divulge too much of my personal life that is directly linked to others on the internet, but I like him.
I really like him.
Having a less than subpar year, or in my prefered term a social nuclear cloud, for relationships both romantic and not last year could give me baggage. It did. It could also have set me up for lower standards, transformed into a cynical pool of hatred and distrust. I am very glad it didn't, but I think that is due to the fact that I have some trust issues to begin with. The baggage slung over my shoulder, under my arm, and strapped to my hands hasn't seemed to interfere though. I really like this guy. Affection rendered me to the level of an annoying air-headed teenage girl over the summer. Like like like. Butterflies in the stomach feelings; those haven't been present for a long while.
This is the reflection point where I almost hope that my boyfriend doesn't read this blog so he doesn't have to roll his eyes at me some more.
In regards to those feelings, everything has been fairly cloud nine for me and us, considering the schedules we have to work with, or so I thought. Bringing me to the conclusion in this two part blog is the "duh" moment, the public service announcement of life: communication is vital and necessary for a healthy relationship. Our schedules caused a bit of a rainy front to conglomerate in my cloud nine. Not seeing someone you care about sucks, however, holding it against them and beating yourself up only sucks more.
Before the action that propelled this post, I was mustering up the gusto to write about appreciating the little things as a way of just getting by, however, as pointed out to me by my boyfriend, the minimum should not be the goal. While there certainly exists value in the little things, you should strive for happiness. Why force yourself to live on bread and water in the desert if the option of steak and potatoes exists? None of this would have occurred to me if I had not done one simple task. Talk to him.
In a two part conversation through AIM and in person, compromise was reached. Sides were understood. I had an end to overly judging and critiquing my every behavior and emotional response. I could go into a lot of psycho babble about upbringing, models of communication and relationships, but I am currently working to separate myself from anything that might be deemed negative in an attempt to better observe it and objectively form intelligent, caring decisions. Communicating with your partner is un-ignorable. Without communication you don't have a relationship. Trust, love, and respect are in there too, but hopefully I don't have any issues with those and no need to write a blog post wringing my insides tighter than my suit after water polo practice. Maybe if you're lucky, a good talk will also lead to a good cuddle.
Who doesn't enjoy a good cuddle?
I am aware that most of this post boils down into one sentence, maybe a paragraph at most of what you should take away from this, or chuckle at me about. You would think that I know to talk to my boyfriend concerning issues. The knowledge is in my head, just sometimes remembering to use it is a bit more difficult. Heck, explore my brain in ODE's while I'm trying to remember back to first semester freshman year in Intro to DiffEq. So yes, "duh" this is obvious, "duh" I should know this, but every once in a while, remembering how to do those things that make a relationship work make the cuddle that much better.
As a final note, what I've been listening to while creating the final composition:
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Return to the Daily Grind
It is currently Saturday, September 11th, 2010. The absence of my blogging from the internet domain has been extended from my original hypothesized two weeks due to the family visit to the Jersey Shore, yard work and friends in Portland, crazy classes and the fact that my "e" key started to stick on my keyboard only after the warranty of my laptop ended. Initially, I thought about commemorating the end to my break with a posting about the Shore, family, a generic "huzzah" to classes or jumping in to the kiddie pool with a toe in Wish List Wednesdays. Stuck in a conundrum of how to end my conundrum, I find myself sitting here, on my couch on a Saturday night with my laptop on my lap, the remains of spaghetti-os and "Julie and Julia" playing on Starz. There will not be a break in the break until I decide to actually get up and do something.
The remarkable thing about tonight has been nothing. Nothing is a good thing. I have been able to eat dinner by myself, lay horizontally on the couch, dip into loneliness and attempt to drag myself out of it. Melodramatic stereotypes aside, I have had some rough patches in life, with the previous semester taking the top tier of the cake of my life. I enjoy the company of others to no end, and there is serenity in silence and being alone, however, I always seem at a cross road on how I can handle myself with just myself in the room. I like to think that I am always there for my friends, and despite my poor judgement, I like to think I chose decent friends to reciprocate those sentiments. Friends and aloneness aren't my difficulty.
Those more than friends people are where life gets tricky.
Boyfriends, boy-toys, romantic interests, gigantic messes, everything in between and those who I care for dearly (family included) can make your life amazing...or resemble a nuclear cloud. While at college, I have experienced homesickness, however, it always seems that longing is worse the closer you are to someone geographically. While I do not like to overly apologize and find it petty and compromising to ones' self, this is one of those posts where I feel that it is necessary to not apologize for my emotions. Stereotypes about overly emotional women be damned. I get lonely easily.
Searching for that someone in your life varies from person to person. I know friends who just seemed to click, from my best friend to a high school acquaintance who has been with his sweetheart all through college. Friends who can't commit for more than a week to those who have almost sworn off the other sex, there yet seems to be a method, even a common thread running through those stories of "the one" or even a "balanced" relationship. What is balance? What is a good relationship? Is it possible to have a "good" relationship even if one of the parties isn't fully whole?
Are these legitimate questions on my part or am I just waisting my time?
This will be a two-part post, with more answers to come after I ponder over a baguette and some nutella. There is nothing that nutella can't help.
The remarkable thing about tonight has been nothing. Nothing is a good thing. I have been able to eat dinner by myself, lay horizontally on the couch, dip into loneliness and attempt to drag myself out of it. Melodramatic stereotypes aside, I have had some rough patches in life, with the previous semester taking the top tier of the cake of my life. I enjoy the company of others to no end, and there is serenity in silence and being alone, however, I always seem at a cross road on how I can handle myself with just myself in the room. I like to think that I am always there for my friends, and despite my poor judgement, I like to think I chose decent friends to reciprocate those sentiments. Friends and aloneness aren't my difficulty.
Those more than friends people are where life gets tricky.
Boyfriends, boy-toys, romantic interests, gigantic messes, everything in between and those who I care for dearly (family included) can make your life amazing...or resemble a nuclear cloud. While at college, I have experienced homesickness, however, it always seems that longing is worse the closer you are to someone geographically. While I do not like to overly apologize and find it petty and compromising to ones' self, this is one of those posts where I feel that it is necessary to not apologize for my emotions. Stereotypes about overly emotional women be damned. I get lonely easily.
Searching for that someone in your life varies from person to person. I know friends who just seemed to click, from my best friend to a high school acquaintance who has been with his sweetheart all through college. Friends who can't commit for more than a week to those who have almost sworn off the other sex, there yet seems to be a method, even a common thread running through those stories of "the one" or even a "balanced" relationship. What is balance? What is a good relationship? Is it possible to have a "good" relationship even if one of the parties isn't fully whole?
Are these legitimate questions on my part or am I just waisting my time?
This will be a two-part post, with more answers to come after I ponder over a baguette and some nutella. There is nothing that nutella can't help.
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