New look, new me?

I haven't written for a looooooong time. So long in fact, I may have had a baby or fell off the face of the Earth but negatory; not prego, not missing or dead. Sorry. I could sit here and talk about every single thing that's happened since last September, but I won't (mostly because I don't even remember all those details). Suffice to say some things happened which caused other things to happen which interfered with blogging. C'est la vie. But I've decided to come back and start over, so to speak. The blog has a new look, I figured it deserved one if I was returning after 9 months as a different person. Well, the same person, but the blog is about growing up and I feel I have done a lot of that (but not too much) in that time.
As you might've guessed, I'm writing as a long-awaited return but also because I can't sleep yet again and I guess there's no time like the present and also not sleeping perpetuates itself when your head is full. I'm not sure how to go about conducting this return or what to talk about since I feel like there are so many things I could choose from while simultaneously feeling like there's nothing at all. I'll make a list.
1. Quinn. I adopted a dog six months ago and he's awesome. I could seriously start a blog just about him and his antics, so it's no surprise I picked him first on the list, there will be more about him. Count on it.

2. I "failed" my first college class. Alas it is true. The word failed is in quotation marks because really, I didn't fail the class, but I do have to retake it. Thank you meltdowns as a result of repressing feelings from the aforementioned events for months, mixing with stress from this very class. Even though it's my fault, which I will admit and take full responsibility, I also feel like sometimes college and its politics are really stupid and arguably only about wasting as much of your time and money as possible. Again, C'est la vie. Hopefully I can save money on books and be a master in this field (I try to be as "glass half full" as I can be).
2.5. If it hadn't been for this class and a teacher I was convinced hated me and I thought I hated back (turns out I learned on the last day of the semester she didn't hate me and I kinda like her back, she's cool), I would never have figured out the direction I think I want to take my degree: disaster relief/preparedness, FEMA?
3. I learned a lot about figuring out who you can trust and how no matter what you do or say, people have their own old habits and demons and there's nothing you can do about it even if you have the purest, best intentions and the most passionate drive to help someone, some people just can't be helped and it's not your fault. More grown up, more reserved, less apt/willing to help people. Forever jaded. C'est la vie. 
4. I moved out of my parents house at the end of last summer. You'd never know it, I spend more and more of my time at my boyfriends house which is my latest internal struggle and one I've been dealing with for months that never ceases to be on my mind stressing me out. I cook. I'm remodeling a dresser and soon not one, but two rooms single-handedly in his house (blogs to come). I have not one, not two, but three drawers FULL of my stuff. I have my own tooth and hair brush that he gave/bought for me to have there. Yet, I pay rent to live somewhere else, and my roommate/best friend has told me on more than one occasion that she feels like a storage unit (and I honestly don't blame her). So, as I'm reminded in several aspects of my life, there is only one of me and I never know how to appease or what to do. Forever clueless. C'est la vie. (P.S: I WILL get C'est la vie tattooed on my body at some point. It is literally my life motto.) 
5. I've developed an appreciation for young adult novels (I never thought I would say that) with the help of reading my new favorite book The Myth of You and Me and The Fault In Our Stars which has led me to other John Green novels. 

As you can see, a lot of changes and growing up in the last several months, never a dull moment... A new creature/best friend who relies completely on me, yet I sometimes feel like I depend on him even more. Strides and falls in the progress of my degree. And my latest question; I know where I live and I know where my home is and there not always the same place, this is both freeing and disconcerting and extremely confusing and trying.

 

So it goes

I got a night where I needed a break from homework to finally toss this gem out into the cyber universe, enjoy!

It's not that I don't enjoy a good discussion with an idiot every once in a while...obviously it has its pros and cons, it's just I actually value my time (I know-the irony, right?). But it always opens your eyes to the fact that just when you think you're at your lowest point, there's always further rungs on the ladder of humanity you can sink to. And since this is my blog, which I'm not going to delete any time soon, I am going to monitor and protect it a little better. I am going to continue to post to it-and whether that's one post a day forever or the next post not coming about for another 6 months is something I can't decide and quite frankly, is no ones fucking business. That goes for the subject matter of the posts as well: happy/sad, celebratory/whiny, good/bad/ugly, etc. I'm entitled to write whatever I want and to make this decision and whatever measures I need to for it to happen. And I don't have to consider anyone or their feelings. I'm not apologizing for the things I said or even the way I said them. The only thing at this point I can think of that I should apologize for is that this happened, that I didn't do this from the beginning and that I let the opinions of some loser corrupt and taint my blog (that I don't really even use anymore). I knew when I started this blog about a year ago that there was potential for this to happen; That some dumb, shallow, egotistical termite would find it and make rude, pitiful observations about it and me as if he knew everything there was to know because he or she took the time to read a handful of my posts. I'm sure that type of thinking will take someone far, but I can only make this observation from the disgusting comments left by someone of this variety... Pride is a dangerous mechanism of the human psyche, so it goes.

I knew that it was a valid possibility, I just didn't care. I don't care what anyone thinks of me, especially some shallow, pathetic stranger on the Internet. If I did, the blog wouldn't exist and quite frankly my very existence would be questionable. It's people like this that are the reason suicide and depression are epidemics as a result of bullying and at the end of the day it's just sad. And you can sit there with your bs excuses and say you're the "strongest and fittest of the species" because you're an asshole, but to me, showing compassion and empathy and even offering to help anyone makes you stronger to the moon and back by comparison. It's sad there are people out there who think they're the prime specimens of society yet all they do is waste their lives on the Internet trolling blogs and criticizing and tearing them and their authors down. You read something that's really personal to someone and just because it doesn't mean anything to you, your response is to say something about it that's really hurtful for no other reason that to inflate your already enormous ego, feel pathetically superior next to a complete stranger and not even move on after, but continue. I honestly can't decide which part of that series of events is the worst... I'm not sure what your motive is to bully a stranger on the Internet but if it has anything to do with thinking that what you say is going to affect someone you are arrogant and disgraceful and you should be ashamed of yourself. Obviously it's ironic that I've taken the time for just that, but you will never hear or read me tell anyone that they "should ask their parents for a postpartum abortion" or anything of the like. And that's the difference.

I might be out of shape (fat, as you put it-ill be the first person to admit it), and lead the not-so-glamorous life of a broke college student, but at least I have everything I need in the people around me: a sister who is everything and more that a sister and a best friend could be, a wonderful boyfriend who before and beyond anything is the best friend who tore down all my walls as if they weren't there at all and does more for me than anyone should, a roommate and best friend who pales all others by comparison, not to mention awesome parents, friends (including 2 more best friends), family, and co-workers. My life is about adventures. It's about being with the people around me for however long I'm privileged and making the most of my time. It may not seem like a lot to you but at the end of the day, you're not involved and your opinion is not warranted or even relevant, so f.o.d. Run along now, I'm sure that basement apartment in your parents house needs vacuuming and those people in the personal section on Craigslist are just dying to see a Photoshopped picture of you

Gasp! A picture I took on my road trip with my boyfriend this summer to meet his parents. Eat your heart out.

All I know is...

Once upon a time I wanted to write a post that started something like this:
To the woman I work with, Mady, and anyone else who has felt and/or expressed an envy for my general apathy about most anything and everything: please stop. Stop feeling envious of not having and expressing emotions. It's not an easy way to go through life despite how easy I may make it seem. It is something I have learned, trained and forced upon myself and my life as a shield and I assure you it is neither easy nor pleasant. At this point it is more of a bad habit I can't break, one that I am probably most ashamed of. I can say that I am a jaded, bitter, complicated, sarcastic, passive-aggressive shadow of a person, and there's nothing to envy.

That was as far as I got. And despite how painfully true it is, I've come to realize that it's part of who I am, along with many other things that a lot of people like and others dislike. And I'm not about to sit here and pick them all apart and try to defend myself. I don't feel like I owe an explanation for the things I do and the decisions I make. Not even to my disapproving family. It's my life and while I would prefer they leave me alone to make my mistakes, fight my battles, and conquer oh so many hurdles (many of which they seem to be the subject of) I know that that's a wish not even a shooting star or a million dollars could realize for me. At the end of the day they're going to do and say and think and believe what they want while also restricting that same luxury from me and everyone around them because that's their form of "caring". That back seat, behind your back, facebook burning, hypocritical, let's break out the wine and pretend we can hide how we feel in the laughing and sarcasm that follows-type of caring.
And in the center of the stage is me and my life trying to put everything somewhere I can hide it and quietly try to decide whether it's the shame or the betrayal that hurts more. Eventually realizing that while they think they know me and my life, they don't even know the first thing about me. I've grown up a lot in the last year or so and in the growing up I've grown away and it's a beautiful but difficult thing. I've learned to become my own person and in that endeavor who I am is someone my family can't seem to accept. And everyone but my family, has said things (in varying forms of language) like "if you're happy, what difference does it make?" or "as long as you're happy" and I always think about this scene from "Little Miss Sunshine"...

I feel like I won the lottery with the way things are. I wouldn't change anything and while I sometimes wish terribly I could bring my family into my life, I know deep down they would criticize literally everything and put down every detail that makes it what it is and what I love. I always think of myself and tell other people that I'm the black sheep in my family and I wonder if the reason they don't like my life is because they don't like me... All I know is, things change, and at this point they'll never be the same. And despite how apathetic I am to nearly everything, I'm having a really hard time dealing with how my happiness makes a lot of people miserable.

Maybe it's the timing, it is April after all. I'm pretty sure I will be driving up to Red Rocks by myself on the 17th just for the occasion and then partying all weekend to celebrate the birthdays of two of my favorite people who are huge pieces of my life as it is now and as I hope it stays for as long as possible.

My discovery in Flagler Beach, FL.

 It's not a secret when I say that I love Florida. In fact, I think it's one of the few things about me that is widely known and accepted. And only because it's incredibly true and impossible to deny.After all these years, we have our usual spots and places like everyone everywhere, it's hard to divert once you have habits and a routine. But this trip, on our customary trip to the beach (which also happened to be my birthday :P), we stumbled across something new (to us), exciting and rather beautiful in its own way. We found this awesome huge pier at a busy intersection that we needed to get home. Armed with curiosity, time and a sense of adventure, we parked and checked it out.
What we found was a lot of people fishing on the pier, people surfing in the water below, birds everywhere and unexpectedly, memories and moments carved into the boards of the pier itself. At first, they seemed to have a depressing connotation, and be almost solely about death and love cut short, but as you wander and continue to read, there are proposals, birthdays and a deep sense of poignancy I have not encountered before. Literally everything from "goodbyes" to "I love yous" to personal messages about fishing and surfing and sunshine and the pier itself. My sister and I have discussed going back there just to read them. My dad would go back in heartbeat...to fish. But to me, it doesn't matter what you do there, the feeling of peace is undeniable, and I would go back just for that.

I am not an emotional person. At all. Ever. My sister jokes (at least I think she's joking) that I don't have a heart. Of course, that's coming from someone who cries at literally anything and everything... But I found myself getting emotional while reading these carvings; sometimes laughing, sometimes getting a little teary eyed. Especially at this one:

The fact that it says "keep on truckin'" really gets to me. My grandfather drove semis almost all his life, and being there I was forced to think of him and the other people who have passed away. But him especially. He always surfaces in my mind whenever I find myself in a situation like that. Always. And I couldn't help but feel like he would have really liked that pier.

These are pictures of the surfers I got...

Letting Go

A few months ago I wrote a post about a run-in with an old friend and a song. And while the song has not been tarnished or forgotten since, it might not have been as strongly a cure for my anxiety and confusion as I thought... The saga continues. 

Recently, as many things bewilder me in random yet similar ways, as usual, I am at the mercy of throwing random thoughts and questions into the cosmic void that is the internet and this blog to try to cope as best as I am capable. I was faced with another meeting with this same friend on what is literally the biggest day of the year in retail: Black Friday. How sensible it is that "fate" would bring him to the exact store where I've worked at for over 2 years and that I should pass him in the exact route I took from my area to the restroom. 
Fate: an awkward, teasing biotch. Of course, I then went for my cell phone, not far away and safe and sound in my locker, to text my sister and a friend I was sure would be awake at 1 in the morning (unlike my sister). 

You're probably thinking, ok...so? Here is my question, the reason for this post: Why can't people let things go? Why can't the past stay in the past? And on another, but subtly similar note; what is the motive, the thought process that goes through someone's mind before creating a questionable, potentially hostile situation? 

Maybe it's due to the timing of recent events: the situation with the bully at work and now another public meeting with someone who I wish would just forget about me forever. But I just don't get it. It's in the past, leave it there, and move on. Is that really so complicated? Is it really so much for me to ask for or expect? All I want is to be grateful for the situations and experiences life brings me and leave them where they belong: in the past, in my memories and no where else. 

Mind you, I have no qualms or problems with reminiscing about something or someone, but not because I expect them to happen again, to see them again to feel or react the same ways, just because it's fun to remember things and people who are gone. But only to a point. People leave, change and in my case many times over, they die. And there's nothing you can do about it, except remember them, be grateful for the memories and lessons, hold onto them and move on.

I get that there's a period after someone leaves, or a fight or falling out, where one goes through a sadness, a period of missing someone and trying to move on and get used to being without this person. You come to realize that despite their absence, you'll always remember them good or bad, but they are gone. They have the same experiences and memories as you, which is a comfort, but it doesn't change anything. Let it go. Move on. Not for them, but for you. You deserve a new start as much as them. You owe it to yourself to cut your losses and learn from them. And that's it. 

...

The other part of this post is about shoplifting. Why do people do it? What part of it seems like a good idea? You MIGHT get away with it. But, on the chance that you don't, you get a red mark forever on your background check, which could be seen by anyone from your neighbor to a potential employer. Besides which, you'll most likely have to deal with the police and be banned from the store you just tried to steal from... What part of any of that seems redeeming? And what could possibly be worth going through all that for? You'd think people would just see it for what it is: there are no redeeming qualities that make it a worthy hobby and if you're successful, your theft raises the prices of merchandise for the rest of us in what is already a terrible economy. Of course, why would a shoplifter be considerate enough to think about anyone but themselves, but it's a legitimate fact of what they do...

Anyway, someone needs to explain it to me because I don't get it. Honestly, I hadn't thought about it that much until I started working at a department store where I was asked to be a witness for a shoplifting apprehension. Which was neither pleasant nor exciting. I had to sit in a room and listen to a girl my sister's age apologize, cry hysterically and beg for mercy regarding calling the police and her mother. All over a pair of sunglasses.

Mom, Dad and Churchill

I would like it to be known here that until recently, I've never had any face-to-face problems with people I work with; associates, supervisors, managers, etc. Ever. Lately however, I've had the misfortune of butting heads with 2 people I work with at once; and one was in a managerial position (thankfully she was just temporary).
The  other person is not temporary, and for some reason insists on creating more tension and conflict between us than there already is. Fortunately, I don't have to work with her very often-but when I do there's always a very thick and obvious tension because she knows I'm not very fond of her. Any other person would just get over it, realize you can't please/be friends with everyone and move on (which I am more than willing to do). She is obviously unfamiliar with this concept...
I had contradictory views on conflict and how to deal with it as a kid. My dad always taught us to be the bigger person and live and let live while my mom tried to teach us to stick up for and defend ourselves if and whenever possible using logic and strong word choice.
I had the unlucky chance of working with her recently and, as history is doomed to repeat itself, she confronted me-more like cornered me in a small room; about why I don't like her/don't want to be her friend/am not nice to her, blah blah blah. But this time, she told me she heard why, and was equipped with surprisingly accurate information. Lucky for her that we share friends and acquaintances in what has suddenly become a much smaller place to me. Anyway, while she was cornering and berating me with stupid and obscure questions and excuses, the only thing I kept thinking is, "Seriously, who cares? Why do you care so much? What difference does it make what I think of you?" And still, I don't get it.

I love and completely agree with this quote. Having friends is great; especially if you have several different types of friends and personalities and ideas to surround yourself with. I'll be the absolute first person to admit how awesome having friends is. I don't know where or who I would be or what I would do had it not been for my friends, past and present. But enemies... having enemies is great too. It teaches you that not everyone is going to think the sun shines out your ass, laugh at your jokes or even agree with you on most anything. It's a crucial lesson to anyone. The point of being human and having a free will is that you're entitled to your beliefs and opinions as much as anyone else, and that basic principle is a recipe for disaster; making mistakes, climbing hurdles, growing up and moving on.  Why would you want to be friends with everyone you meet anyway? That seems exhausting...and pointless...
I've wasted whatever time and energy against my will in a stupid confrontation that didn't even accomplish anything. So now I've decided to take dad's advice; if and when she confronts me again, I'm not going to answer her. I'm not even going to look at her. What's the point in trying to defend myself against someone who so vehemently and ignorantly believes that she's right and didn't do anything wrong: the very base of this exact conflict... Messy, cyclical, laughable. There's no point. She's never going to believe what I'm saying even happened, let alone has any merit. So I'm gonna let her have her flawless fantasy, and not even give her the time of day.
I can't speak for the possibility in the distant future if I have to resort to involving management, but let's hope that she somehow acquires the ability to take a hint and grow up...

November 5th

There is a Native American quote that says, "There is no death, only a change of worlds."

It's always hard around this time of year, being so close to the holidays, but I think it's twice as bad this year since it's the first year without her. Not only for today, but the day twenty days from now that marks the day she died, and the holidays in general. My grandma always taught me that lipstick is a must for any special occasion, that the serving of vanilla when baking is a suggested starting point and that no matter what, life is way better when you have friends and family to share it with.

Papa taught me that mischief is a necessary ingredient for life, that sometimes it's better to make others happy instead of yourself and to appreciate what's around you before it's gone, and that was a lesson from beyond the grave... I miss their voices and laughs, their  habits and endless love and support.

I'll always miss them no matter what day it is. But I always thought it was so bizarre that my mom's dad and my dad's mom would share the same birthday (different years). And for some reason the weeks leading up to November 5th have been very hard. Just considering all the things that have been accomplished, and all that's before us; my sister is graduating from high school and moving on to college, I just officially declared my major at UCD about a week ago. These are the things that overwhelm me now, but I've also been thinking about the inevitable end and questionable point to life. I wonder if they died happy and proud or empty and regretful...Why are we given a life and free will, filled with decisions and experiences, for it to end and for you to be ripped away from everything and everyone you love and eventually forgotten...? Maybe it's the fact that I turned my back on my religious upbringing and consider myself to be in a perpetual state of cynical questioning, but sometimes I really don't get it. It's probably just me realizing that two of the best people I've ever known are gone and I will never be able to completely understand or explain how much I owe them and what they meant to me. Like most things, as you might have guessed, it's better if I just don't think about it.

I took them for granted. I wish I had known what was right in front of me before it was gone. But that to me is an important lesson in this life: experience and regrets teach you that regret is, in fact, useless and accomplishes nothing except that you have to learn from your mistakes and appreciate what's around you. It's not even really my "regrets" that eat me up so much today, but just the general feeling of missing someone and knowing that they're gone forever. I think this Thankgiving I'll be thankful for the people I have around me, for however long.