I remember something profound a co-worker of mine mentioned in passing. He said something to the effect of resolutions being worth while, but that resolutions should only be a blueprint for what we want to accomplish throughout the year. We can't stick to the plan one-hundred percent. So, while having resolutions, goals, and "things to do" are good for our mental state. Nothing should be set in stone, we should constantly be trying to be better people.
So...with that said. I give you my resolutions and a list of 5 things I want to accomplish in 2013, but I have to premise this post by saying that this is merely a blueprint. My ultimate goal in life is to be happy. I will adjust and move things around, as needed but for now this is what I want:
1.) To be more honest and open.
2.) To be more spontaneous.
3.) To be healthier.
4.) To be more spiritual
Some things I want to accomplish:
1.) Begin, finish, edit or revise a piece of written work.
2.) Twelve dates. (One each month?)(Within a month?) (Within a day?)
3.) Three-day fast.
4.) Travel the world. (Random destination?) (Somewhere I've been before?)
5.) Attend a church service of various denominations.
HAPPY 2013 EVERYONE!
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Greatest Moments of 2012: Number Five--Ode to Smith's Marketplace
5.
This year had been a year of learning and change. I became the back-up book keeper at Smith's Marketplace #444 in January 2012, and absolutely loved it. In the Fall of 2012 I decided to transfer stores and move to Smith's Marketplace #94 in the same position.
Moving to #94 has been one of the greatest moments thus far in my life. I have met and made some of the greatest friends here, and I absolutely love what I'm doing. They made the transition easier than a slice of Boston creme pie on a Sunday morning.
I couldn't have asked for a risk to pay off better than it has this year. I am so grateful for my new family, although I still adore, and constantly miss my beautiful family in Bountiful. I'm in good hands here downtown. I can't say enough how much I love it.
To Bountiful:
You were my family for a great four years. I grew up in Bountiful. I became an adult in Bountiful. I remember when I started back when I was 16 and just this little kid with a smile and a bad attitude, back then I hated going to work. I dreaded every moment, because I felt my social life was slipping away from me every moment I was there, but you made every day that I showed up better. Each and every one of you, will always have a place in my heart. You are where I began, and you will always be my second family.
To Downtown:
I was so scurred when I decided to come to this store. I didn't know a single person (besides "CoCo Beans") and I had no idea where I was going to get all the hours I needed, and I didn't know what I was going to do if it didn't work out, but every one has opened their hearts, their minds, and their ears to me; making this transition super easy. You are now an extension of my second family. I look forward to many years, months, days, hours and minutes with you in the next year. I thank you with all my heart.
This year had been a year of learning and change. I became the back-up book keeper at Smith's Marketplace #444 in January 2012, and absolutely loved it. In the Fall of 2012 I decided to transfer stores and move to Smith's Marketplace #94 in the same position.
Moving to #94 has been one of the greatest moments thus far in my life. I have met and made some of the greatest friends here, and I absolutely love what I'm doing. They made the transition easier than a slice of Boston creme pie on a Sunday morning.
I couldn't have asked for a risk to pay off better than it has this year. I am so grateful for my new family, although I still adore, and constantly miss my beautiful family in Bountiful. I'm in good hands here downtown. I can't say enough how much I love it.
To Bountiful:
You were my family for a great four years. I grew up in Bountiful. I became an adult in Bountiful. I remember when I started back when I was 16 and just this little kid with a smile and a bad attitude, back then I hated going to work. I dreaded every moment, because I felt my social life was slipping away from me every moment I was there, but you made every day that I showed up better. Each and every one of you, will always have a place in my heart. You are where I began, and you will always be my second family.
To Downtown:
I was so scurred when I decided to come to this store. I didn't know a single person (besides "CoCo Beans") and I had no idea where I was going to get all the hours I needed, and I didn't know what I was going to do if it didn't work out, but every one has opened their hearts, their minds, and their ears to me; making this transition super easy. You are now an extension of my second family. I look forward to many years, months, days, hours and minutes with you in the next year. I thank you with all my heart.
^^My first Zero balance at my new Store. Yippee!
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Top Moments of 2012: Number Four
4.
As I've mentioned before. I LOVE WEDDINGS, and I went to a lot of them in the summer, but I went to just as many missionary homecomings as I did weddings.
Same night. My finger "accidentally" got stuck in front of the camera. Tee hee. I have so much fun when we go out.
This is the result of that day. I went to bed with a smile on my face and a tired diaphragm from all the laughter. Needless to say Natasha is my favorite and always will be.
Moving on...
Like I said, many homecomings, including this one: Elder Essig returned from his mission and was just as divine as he was when he left. It's so strange to think that two years have already passed since I graduated high school, and now all of these guys are returning from their missions as the girls prepare to leave. This parallel universe just seems unreal, but yet so cool. The stories that get to be told, the legends that get to be made, and the memories which are now forever etched within us make life something worthwhile. I find only one word that fits exceptionally to describe the entirety of it all: astonishing.
As I've mentioned before. I LOVE WEDDINGS, and I went to a lot of them in the summer, but I went to just as many missionary homecomings as I did weddings.
That would be Natasha putting oil on a plate to eat bread at The Macaroni Grill when we went to eat after a wedding and she looked hawt. A man even noticed enough to check her out TWICE.
Moving on...
Monday, December 17, 2012
Number 3
3.
Earlier this year, in the spring semester, I took a "Survey of Theatre" class, and it was my favorite class of that semester. I learned a lot about the aesthetic of Theatre, and met a lot of great people. It was a class split into four sections, which included: Lighting, Sound, Construction and Costumes. The final module: costumes, held our final which was essentially a fashion show.
Our task? We were to build outfits (er, excuse me)/ costumes. Out of every day items that we found in garbage cans, out on the street, in our rooms, our cars, other peoples' back-packs. It didn't matter. We were asked to find ordinary items, that were not fabric based and create costumes out of them.
This is why I love Theatre, and Theatre people, their ability to create is astonishing. We had a blast putting together an intricate costume which I loved. The team I had was so much fun, and brought a lot great ideas to the table. We gathered cans and pine cones, leaves and wood, and made a character come to life. It was completely satisfying.
^^This was not posed. Completely candid.
Ours is the last one on the right end.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Number Two
I foresee me talking about a lot of people. This year was a year my life was filled and emptied with people, and I couldn't help but give-in to being sappy about one guy in particular.
He has been one of the greatest people I've met this year. There is only one word to describe him and that is fascinating. I have the best time when we massacre the town with our crazy-ness. He makes me laugh, and takes the most flattering Instagram photos of me.
He has been such a confidant whom I feel I'm able to talk to, laugh with, laugh at, relate to, and listen to. I am so grateful to have met him. I hope to go on many more excursions with him throughout 2013, but for now. I can only thank him for being someone I can call "friend".
2.
This Kid...
Braden Dunbar
He has been one of the greatest people I've met this year. There is only one word to describe him and that is fascinating. I have the best time when we massacre the town with our crazy-ness. He makes me laugh, and takes the most flattering Instagram photos of me.
He has been such a confidant whom I feel I'm able to talk to, laugh with, laugh at, relate to, and listen to. I am so grateful to have met him. I hope to go on many more excursions with him throughout 2013, but for now. I can only thank him for being someone I can call "friend".
Friday, December 14, 2012
Top Moments of 2012
When I tried to create my "best year" photo collage on Facebook it gave me four photos within the same month, and I was highly disappointed. I decided to take it upon myself and just blog about my favorite moments from this past year. With the New Year approaching I felt it was appropriate. So, I'll be sharing good times, bad times, fun times, sad times, and everything in between. I don't have a limit of how many I'll do. Just as they come to me I'll post them.
While perusing my photos I found these beauties so this moment will be number one!
1.
Matt Willie told me he wanted to "take me to a wedding," so I obliged. Mostly, because I love weddings. I'm not really sure as to why anymore. I feel like every wedding I attend falls short of something, and it never fulfills my expectations, but I find myself still obsessed, and still attending them. In the Summer alone I attended eight of them, and this was one of my favorites.
The venue was perfect, the couple was stunning, and the reception was so much fun. The room was filled with happiness which emanated from every soul in the room.
I had so much fun, and Matt was such a great date. We ended the night with a slow dance, and it's a beautiful moment I'm glad was caught on camera, and I got to share with him. All weddings should be like this one: spectacular not because of what is happening but because of who it is happening with.
While perusing my photos I found these beauties so this moment will be number one!
1.
The venue was perfect, the couple was stunning, and the reception was so much fun. The room was filled with happiness which emanated from every soul in the room.
I had so much fun, and Matt was such a great date. We ended the night with a slow dance, and it's a beautiful moment I'm glad was caught on camera, and I got to share with him. All weddings should be like this one: spectacular not because of what is happening but because of who it is happening with.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
What are you Thankful for?
With this launch of my blog, (formerly known as "Down on my Knees. Eyes Wide Open.")it's now called: Lies I tell my Mother (Because my Mother is always Right). It's the 2.0 version and it's kind of exciting. I feel I've come into my own skin as a writer, and a computer savvy blogger. Although I'm still trying to figure out all the logistics of how I want my blog to lay-out. I think for now, what I have out, will do.
Does the title seem strange to you? Good. I'll explain that later, but for today I just want to talk about THANKSGIVING. Why? Because today is that GLORIOUS holiday! Yippee.
I thought about what I wanted to say in this post, because I was just thinking I would drone on and on about what I'm thankful for, but that would take forever.
I narrowed it down to Five things I'm Thankful for, and I hope that by listing them. You'll be inspired to list some things yourself, and maybe you can share them with those you're choosing to spend today with, or just whisper them secretly to yourself, or think about them constantly throughout the day, and when you think of one, just shout it out wherever you are.
Either way you choose to declare your gratitude. I wish you and yours a beautiful Thanksgiving. May you be surrounded by love as we rush into the crazy holiday season, and find some solace in life in your abundance of blessings.
Five Things I'm Grateful for This Year (or in this Moment to be more Precise):
1. My Familia: This year I have discovered a new love for my family. My parents and my brother and sister all whom are growing into beautiful people each and every day. They are my haven away from the world. They are where I feel safest. I love them with all of me, but not just those who are blood related to me, but also my family which I've found by being on my own. I am so grateful for my friends, both those who are still around, and those which have come and gone. They have taught me lessons about love. I will never forget. They will always have grand pieces of my heart, and I am grateful I gave them away, and they were gracious enough to accept them.
2. Social Media: I really love Facebook, and not because it's the best place to stalk people, or waste the majority of my time. I learn a lot of my news from Facebook, and I've met some of the greatest people via the internet sensation. It is a new wave of the future and I'm on board, 5,000 percent.
3. Me: I know, this sounds weird, but my roomie Kiko made a joke of it while we sat at the breakfast table this morning, but then I really thought about it, and it struck me: I am totally grateful for myself. I think we all should be. Who else knows our pain, our triumphs, our heart aches, our success; more than we do? I have made it here, granted with the fantastic help of so many people, but I had to experience the journey, and that's what life is all about.
4. My Job: I have come to realize that I really love my job. I love what I'm doing, and I love who I work with, and I love being able to perform tasks that in the beginning, I totally resented, but now I am so thankful that I have a place to not just go for a pay check, but I arrive not knowing what awaits, but knowing that most days I'm leaving with an ache in my muscles and a smile on my face.
5. Education: I'm not just talking about a "higher education", it's not about something that you can get from a textbook. It's about an education you get just from living life. The things I have learned both in college and just from life have made all the difference in how I deal with things and how I find what is goodness in the world. I will be a life learner, and that will change everything.
Happy Thanksgiving Every One. Take some time to enjoy everything in your life, and maybe afterwards you can play a Christmas song or two to get you ready for what I like to call: The Rush.
Kelly Clarkson "Thankful"
Does the title seem strange to you? Good. I'll explain that later, but for today I just want to talk about THANKSGIVING. Why? Because today is that GLORIOUS holiday! Yippee.
I thought about what I wanted to say in this post, because I was just thinking I would drone on and on about what I'm thankful for, but that would take forever.
I narrowed it down to Five things I'm Thankful for, and I hope that by listing them. You'll be inspired to list some things yourself, and maybe you can share them with those you're choosing to spend today with, or just whisper them secretly to yourself, or think about them constantly throughout the day, and when you think of one, just shout it out wherever you are.
Either way you choose to declare your gratitude. I wish you and yours a beautiful Thanksgiving. May you be surrounded by love as we rush into the crazy holiday season, and find some solace in life in your abundance of blessings.
Five Things I'm Grateful for This Year (or in this Moment to be more Precise):
1. My Familia: This year I have discovered a new love for my family. My parents and my brother and sister all whom are growing into beautiful people each and every day. They are my haven away from the world. They are where I feel safest. I love them with all of me, but not just those who are blood related to me, but also my family which I've found by being on my own. I am so grateful for my friends, both those who are still around, and those which have come and gone. They have taught me lessons about love. I will never forget. They will always have grand pieces of my heart, and I am grateful I gave them away, and they were gracious enough to accept them.
2. Social Media: I really love Facebook, and not because it's the best place to stalk people, or waste the majority of my time. I learn a lot of my news from Facebook, and I've met some of the greatest people via the internet sensation. It is a new wave of the future and I'm on board, 5,000 percent.
3. Me: I know, this sounds weird, but my roomie Kiko made a joke of it while we sat at the breakfast table this morning, but then I really thought about it, and it struck me: I am totally grateful for myself. I think we all should be. Who else knows our pain, our triumphs, our heart aches, our success; more than we do? I have made it here, granted with the fantastic help of so many people, but I had to experience the journey, and that's what life is all about.
4. My Job: I have come to realize that I really love my job. I love what I'm doing, and I love who I work with, and I love being able to perform tasks that in the beginning, I totally resented, but now I am so thankful that I have a place to not just go for a pay check, but I arrive not knowing what awaits, but knowing that most days I'm leaving with an ache in my muscles and a smile on my face.
5. Education: I'm not just talking about a "higher education", it's not about something that you can get from a textbook. It's about an education you get just from living life. The things I have learned both in college and just from life have made all the difference in how I deal with things and how I find what is goodness in the world. I will be a life learner, and that will change everything.
Happy Thanksgiving Every One. Take some time to enjoy everything in your life, and maybe afterwards you can play a Christmas song or two to get you ready for what I like to call: The Rush.
Kelly Clarkson "Thankful"
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Shame
"Shame"
By: Nathan Rust
Remnants of last night.
Are etched in stains on the photo frame
of my computer screen.
It screams at me.
Shame.
Shame on you.
The delight you reap.
Shameful.
It is not
in the sin I find remorse.
It is in the lie.
Painted lines outline
the contour
of every muscle
that twitched
at your touch.
Every stroke
with that brush
paints my lips with
the words
you utter,
as you reach
that peak
at the point of the mountain--
which we climb.
I delight
in my happiness
of a stranger's pain.
Unknown to me
makes it bearable.
Okay.
I say.
Never leave.
Kiss me.
Please.
He begs. To let me
let him,
stay in my bed.
Like a vagabond
he begs on his feet
knowing I'll
oblige to his needs.
Indulge with me.
He say.
Indulge with me.
Shame.
When I let him stay
he slips from under my
naked fingers
to runaway
and lie with--
the other.
My brother
who is unaware
I've betrayed every prayer
he offered in my name.
Dirty glass seems clean
due to rain--
and the tears which
wash them.
Peace, seems a far
distant deserted land
to which I can't reach
for I am
parched
and thirsty
for him.
Again.
Then--
I drink
finding nothing but
Empty.
By: Nathan Rust
Remnants of last night.
Are etched in stains on the photo frame
of my computer screen.
It screams at me.
Shame.
Shame on you.
The delight you reap.
Shameful.
It is not
in the sin I find remorse.
It is in the lie.
Painted lines outline
the contour
of every muscle
that twitched
at your touch.
Every stroke
with that brush
paints my lips with
the words
you utter,
as you reach
that peak
at the point of the mountain--
which we climb.
I delight
in my happiness
of a stranger's pain.
Unknown to me
makes it bearable.
Okay.
I say.
Never leave.
Kiss me.
Please.
He begs. To let me
let him,
stay in my bed.
Like a vagabond
he begs on his feet
knowing I'll
oblige to his needs.
Indulge with me.
He say.
Indulge with me.
Shame.
When I let him stay
he slips from under my
naked fingers
to runaway
and lie with--
the other.
My brother
who is unaware
I've betrayed every prayer
he offered in my name.
Dirty glass seems clean
due to rain--
and the tears which
wash them.
Peace, seems a far
distant deserted land
to which I can't reach
for I am
parched
and thirsty
for him.
Again.
Then--
I drink
finding nothing but
Empty.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
To my Bestie
They say that people are brought into our lives, for a reason. That they are sent to teach us a lesson, guide our hearts, and heal our souls. I have seen this in my life, and I have seen that timing is everything. As I say good-bye to my best friend, I look at it as a tragic ending. Somewhat of a series finale to a great television show. Something like Will and Grace, MASH, Friends...etc. It's epic, but not in the good way. It's sad, but exciting. It's new and different. What will I do with my Monday nights at 7 now that this show is gone?
I don't know.
Although I am sad at his decision to leave me, I am forever grateful to what I have gained from our friendship together, and I am excited to know that although I am sure I will see him again. When we do meet, we will be different people, and rather than have to pick up from where we left off, we are able to start a new chapter to build a newer, fresh, and vibrant chain in our friendship.
I am numb.
I can't help but think that maybe I didn't say exactly what I wanted to say to him, in person. Perhaps, I didn't convey just how much I do care for him. This is where good-byes get a little tricky. How do I know what is enough?
I don't. So here it is...my goodbye.
I love you, and I always will. I hope no one confuses this love with a romantic epiphany. My love comes from a brotherhood, perhaps even a motherhood. I love you with all of me, and hope you know that I wish for you worlds of happiness that keep you working towards positive aspirations in your life, and as long as you are happy. I can do the same. You have lifted me up, when I was down. You have made me smile, when I was sad, and we have survived the turmoils of cross roads that could have persuaded us to walk different paths when it was premature, and we didn't. We lasted longer than that, and I feel, personally. There was a reason. I don't think I'll ever know exactly what it is, but I know that it has changed my life, forever.
So, this is good-bye, for now.
But when we meet again, may we sit, and talk for hours, laugh for moments that exceed our lives, and live life to the fullest of it's extent.
Adieu.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Rapper Rhythms in my Mind
Rapper Rhythms in my Mind
By: Nathan Rust
Okay.
Okay.
He says, it will all be, okay.
Not that I'll change
or grow
or find something
new.
Not that I'll live
and run--or
speak to you.
Anyways.
It will all be okay.
People don't change
or die
or leave.
Like you do.
Please.
Not right now,
not today,
nothing--
of this sort
will be "okay".
Save,
your positive pleas
for someone who,
locked up their emotions
in a tomb--
Today.
I will cry.
I will scream.
I will run.
Today.
I will not be okay
with being okay,
because learning to
love,
means learning to hurt
and showing that hurt
means I can love
again.
When you come back.
Then--
I'll be okay,
but for now...
I'll hate seeing you
escape
my doorway.
When I watch you walk
away.
I'll imagine who we use to be
then I'll be ok.
By: Nathan Rust
Okay.
Okay.
He says, it will all be, okay.
Not that I'll change
or grow
or find something
new.
Not that I'll live
and run--or
speak to you.
Anyways.
It will all be okay.
People don't change
or die
or leave.
Like you do.
Please.
Not right now,
not today,
nothing--
of this sort
will be "okay".
Save,
your positive pleas
for someone who,
locked up their emotions
in a tomb--
Today.
I will cry.
I will scream.
I will run.
Today.
I will not be okay
with being okay,
because learning to
love,
means learning to hurt
and showing that hurt
means I can love
again.
When you come back.
Then--
I'll be okay,
but for now...
I'll hate seeing you
escape
my doorway.
When I watch you walk
away.
I'll imagine who we use to be
then I'll be ok.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Just some Second-Hand thoughts on First- Class Problems.
As of late I have been exposed to others' blogs that have been written on issues to which I find myself opposing their stance. Many of these are by friends of mine. So, I've decided to take the liberty, probably improperly, to blog, on these certain topics.
First off...I will be referring to a good friend of mine: Eric Blackwood's blog on "Being Nice." It can be viewed here:
http://www.ericblackwood.blogspot.com/2012/09/wait-that-means-they-arent-necessarily.html
The main point I'm trying to make, and the biggest issue I take with this entry is that people, who are nice, are not necessarily good. I don't find that to be the point. I agree, good acts don't necessarily parlay to being good people, but who is inherently "good", and to take that further what is "good"? It is an idea that is filtered into our minds, and varies from person to person, because it is influenced by our lives, and our surroundings as children and into our adulthood. Being good is as flippant as the idea of "perfection" or "love".
To example this, I have to reference myself as a senior in high school, and reading The Lord of the Flies, it was when my English teacher, in discussion, referenced an interview William Golding who was quoted as saying something to the extent of: People are inherently bad, that is why it is so hard to be good.
At first I was taken aback by such a statement, and almost appalled at the idea that people are bad, but it occurred to be that bad-ness, much like good-ness is an effect of surrounding and upbringing.
For me, I could relate that being bad was always the easier choice, but it is when I am given the choice to be bad, that I recognize that "good" even exists.
Eric believes that people who do good things are not necessarily good people. I disagree. I believe all people want to be good, therefore they do good things, and doing good things is not a rouse to have ourselves be seen as good people.
He references that man or woman who helps as an act charity (whatever act, is for you to choose) and then that person, that same man or woman is living their life as an adulterer. Infidelity is a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. These people are not bad people. If we are to pin the idea that infidelity is an act which makes someone a "bad" person, we'll have to include the act of murder, binge drinkers, porn watchers, etc. etc. Then who's left?
No one.
Are these acts immoral? Yes. Are some of them addictions? Yes. But the people who commit them have chosen to be bad. Why? Because it is inherent within them to choose what was bad for them, for whatever reason, and who are you and who am I to judge them for that?
Again, they are not bad people. They are people who have chosen bad things. It does not mean that because they went to church on Sunday to help with a food drive, or took time to help someone jump their battery that their bad choices are disregarded.
As a society we are so quick to judge a person by their acts--and I can agree with Eric on that--when we should be judging them by their character. Someone can have a good heart and make bad choices. Someone can have a bad heart and make good choices. These are not what we should be looking for, but rather, the character and qualities of one's heart, soul, and mind. How do you see that?
You begin by understanding someone's story, their background, who they are and where they come from, and why they believe what they believe. From there you will see someone's true character. People just want to be heard. They don't want your charity, your money, your possessions, your hand-me-downs. People just want other people to give them the time of day.
They don't want to be good or do good things. Although those things ease the pain of one's past and possible future, and perhaps even aids in salvaging whatever sort peace we still have in the world. Being good is minuscule to what truly matters and that is being kind.
This is just my two-cents about the world, and a different point of view on an issue someone else has written about. Take this as you will. Comment. Cry. Shout. Yell. Scream. Stomp. Like. Don't like. Whatever it may be I'd be very interested in what you have to say. Just don't come banging on my door at 2 in the morning. That would be inconvenient and rude.
Much Love...
First off...I will be referring to a good friend of mine: Eric Blackwood's blog on "Being Nice." It can be viewed here:
http://www.ericblackwood.blogspot.com/2012/09/wait-that-means-they-arent-necessarily.html
The main point I'm trying to make, and the biggest issue I take with this entry is that people, who are nice, are not necessarily good. I don't find that to be the point. I agree, good acts don't necessarily parlay to being good people, but who is inherently "good", and to take that further what is "good"? It is an idea that is filtered into our minds, and varies from person to person, because it is influenced by our lives, and our surroundings as children and into our adulthood. Being good is as flippant as the idea of "perfection" or "love".
To example this, I have to reference myself as a senior in high school, and reading The Lord of the Flies, it was when my English teacher, in discussion, referenced an interview William Golding who was quoted as saying something to the extent of: People are inherently bad, that is why it is so hard to be good.
At first I was taken aback by such a statement, and almost appalled at the idea that people are bad, but it occurred to be that bad-ness, much like good-ness is an effect of surrounding and upbringing.
For me, I could relate that being bad was always the easier choice, but it is when I am given the choice to be bad, that I recognize that "good" even exists.
Eric believes that people who do good things are not necessarily good people. I disagree. I believe all people want to be good, therefore they do good things, and doing good things is not a rouse to have ourselves be seen as good people.
He references that man or woman who helps as an act charity (whatever act, is for you to choose) and then that person, that same man or woman is living their life as an adulterer. Infidelity is a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes. These people are not bad people. If we are to pin the idea that infidelity is an act which makes someone a "bad" person, we'll have to include the act of murder, binge drinkers, porn watchers, etc. etc. Then who's left?
No one.
Are these acts immoral? Yes. Are some of them addictions? Yes. But the people who commit them have chosen to be bad. Why? Because it is inherent within them to choose what was bad for them, for whatever reason, and who are you and who am I to judge them for that?
Again, they are not bad people. They are people who have chosen bad things. It does not mean that because they went to church on Sunday to help with a food drive, or took time to help someone jump their battery that their bad choices are disregarded.
As a society we are so quick to judge a person by their acts--and I can agree with Eric on that--when we should be judging them by their character. Someone can have a good heart and make bad choices. Someone can have a bad heart and make good choices. These are not what we should be looking for, but rather, the character and qualities of one's heart, soul, and mind. How do you see that?
You begin by understanding someone's story, their background, who they are and where they come from, and why they believe what they believe. From there you will see someone's true character. People just want to be heard. They don't want your charity, your money, your possessions, your hand-me-downs. People just want other people to give them the time of day.
They don't want to be good or do good things. Although those things ease the pain of one's past and possible future, and perhaps even aids in salvaging whatever sort peace we still have in the world. Being good is minuscule to what truly matters and that is being kind.
This is just my two-cents about the world, and a different point of view on an issue someone else has written about. Take this as you will. Comment. Cry. Shout. Yell. Scream. Stomp. Like. Don't like. Whatever it may be I'd be very interested in what you have to say. Just don't come banging on my door at 2 in the morning. That would be inconvenient and rude.
Much Love...
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Thank you (and some other comments too)
I was a Freshman in College (yikes! It's been a long three years), I was taking my Writing 2010, and we all had to choose a subject to write our five page paper on and present it to the class. Naturally, I chose gay bullying.
It was among my research that I found that many of the teenagers and young adults who had committed suicide due to bullying that year, they all became just a number, a statistical portion of evidence for people like me: a college student. To prove why bullying is so wrong. I didn't want them to be numbers. I wanted those kids, those who weren't able to live their lives, at least truly, to an extent that they loved themselves fully, I wanted them to have names and stories, and vicariously, I found mine.
There were so many emotions brought on by my paper. I was angry. I was sad. I was overwhelmed. Confused. Misunderstood. More than anything, I was a fraud, and I had been for nineteen years of my life. I was living two lives under one skin and I hated it. I hated the lying. I hated the scheming, and I hated the idea that I would never be able to have a husband, a family, one dog, one cat, twins, and a cow named Betsy (okay maybe the latter four I embellished on).
I had been posting status updates on Facebook (as much as I do now, yes), and the more I posted, the more obvious it became that I was a little...different. My updates caught the eye of my aunt, who then called my grandmother, who then called my mother. I came home from school one day, and sat at the counter with my mother as she made me something to eat. It was our ritual.
I didn't decide that day would be the day, but because of my paper it was just always on my mind, and that day it weighed heavily on my conscious, and my mother could see that. Our conversation went something like this:
Mama: Are you okay? She sits on the stool next to me at the counter
Me: I'm okay.
Mama: You know Grandma called me and said Stacy saw some things on your Facebook.
Me: Yeah.
Mama: Weird things. You should stop posting things on there.
Me: Okay.
Mama: Do you want to tell me something? You can tell me anything.
Me: I looked into my mother's eyes I don't want to tell you.
Mama: Why?
Me: I think you already know.
Mama: I need you to say it.
Me: I can't.
Mama: If I ask, will you tell me?
Me: I nodded "yes".
Mama: Do you like boys?
Me: Yes.
Mama: Did you think I would hate you because you like boys?
Me: Yes.
At this point my mother raised herself from her stool. Walked around the counter. Looked at me with tears forming in her eyes and said:
Mama: Did you think I would hate you because you are gay?
Me: Yes. I did.
Mama: I will never hate you. You are my son. I will always love you.
Then she embraced me, and we cried. After the waterworks settled, and the breathing came back to a momentum of speaking proportions. We talked for hours about how I felt, about how she felt, and about everything in between.
It was almost two weeks after that. I felt I had to come out again, because my mother who refused to acknowledge that I like men, pushed me back into the closet. Unconsciously I'm sure of it. It was new and frightening for her, as it was for me as well. We were all in a space of awkward and shock.
It's been two and a half years, and my family (my brother and sister included) have become the loves of my life, and the support system that have trudged over borders I would have never thought possible. They are my rock.
With this all said, and today being National Coming Out Day, I must say, coming out was not an easy feat. It was something that took me a very long time to do, and it was something that I did when I was ready. The path after coming out, was probably harder than before or even during the coming out process, because after finally saying it, I had to redirect, or re-create rather, a life that was new and exciting, and more over: Mine.
With this said, I must end this note (novel) with this:
Thank you to my parents, who may agree or disagree or not even care about my life, but who have shown me time and time again, that they love and support me, and it is I who do not feel worthy to be in their life due to their kindness and undying devotion to me. I love you mom and dad.
To my sister, who has made all the difference, thank you for loving me, and letting me love you. Thank you for your acceptance. You are truly a woman of character and class.
To my baby bro, you are my child, and I adore you. Your innocence is recognized in my eyes as something that is fading, but you'll always be little Jerry.
To my friends, my extended family, my co-workers, my lovers, (those don't really exist), my strangers and unborn children: Thank you for letting me be me. Your support, and your ignorance (for those selected few) have given me strength and courage to go on.
I love you all, and hope that I allow you the same freedom as you have allowed me to not be just a number.
It was among my research that I found that many of the teenagers and young adults who had committed suicide due to bullying that year, they all became just a number, a statistical portion of evidence for people like me: a college student. To prove why bullying is so wrong. I didn't want them to be numbers. I wanted those kids, those who weren't able to live their lives, at least truly, to an extent that they loved themselves fully, I wanted them to have names and stories, and vicariously, I found mine.
There were so many emotions brought on by my paper. I was angry. I was sad. I was overwhelmed. Confused. Misunderstood. More than anything, I was a fraud, and I had been for nineteen years of my life. I was living two lives under one skin and I hated it. I hated the lying. I hated the scheming, and I hated the idea that I would never be able to have a husband, a family, one dog, one cat, twins, and a cow named Betsy (okay maybe the latter four I embellished on).
I had been posting status updates on Facebook (as much as I do now, yes), and the more I posted, the more obvious it became that I was a little...different. My updates caught the eye of my aunt, who then called my grandmother, who then called my mother. I came home from school one day, and sat at the counter with my mother as she made me something to eat. It was our ritual.
I didn't decide that day would be the day, but because of my paper it was just always on my mind, and that day it weighed heavily on my conscious, and my mother could see that. Our conversation went something like this:
Mama: Are you okay? She sits on the stool next to me at the counter
Me: I'm okay.
Mama: You know Grandma called me and said Stacy saw some things on your Facebook.
Me: Yeah.
Mama: Weird things. You should stop posting things on there.
Me: Okay.
Mama: Do you want to tell me something? You can tell me anything.
Me: I looked into my mother's eyes I don't want to tell you.
Mama: Why?
Me: I think you already know.
Mama: I need you to say it.
Me: I can't.
Mama: If I ask, will you tell me?
Me: I nodded "yes".
Mama: Do you like boys?
Me: Yes.
Mama: Did you think I would hate you because you like boys?
Me: Yes.
At this point my mother raised herself from her stool. Walked around the counter. Looked at me with tears forming in her eyes and said:
Mama: Did you think I would hate you because you are gay?
Me: Yes. I did.
Mama: I will never hate you. You are my son. I will always love you.
Then she embraced me, and we cried. After the waterworks settled, and the breathing came back to a momentum of speaking proportions. We talked for hours about how I felt, about how she felt, and about everything in between.
It was almost two weeks after that. I felt I had to come out again, because my mother who refused to acknowledge that I like men, pushed me back into the closet. Unconsciously I'm sure of it. It was new and frightening for her, as it was for me as well. We were all in a space of awkward and shock.
It's been two and a half years, and my family (my brother and sister included) have become the loves of my life, and the support system that have trudged over borders I would have never thought possible. They are my rock.
With this all said, and today being National Coming Out Day, I must say, coming out was not an easy feat. It was something that took me a very long time to do, and it was something that I did when I was ready. The path after coming out, was probably harder than before or even during the coming out process, because after finally saying it, I had to redirect, or re-create rather, a life that was new and exciting, and more over: Mine.
With this said, I must end this note (novel) with this:
Thank you to my parents, who may agree or disagree or not even care about my life, but who have shown me time and time again, that they love and support me, and it is I who do not feel worthy to be in their life due to their kindness and undying devotion to me. I love you mom and dad.
To my sister, who has made all the difference, thank you for loving me, and letting me love you. Thank you for your acceptance. You are truly a woman of character and class.
To my baby bro, you are my child, and I adore you. Your innocence is recognized in my eyes as something that is fading, but you'll always be little Jerry.
To my friends, my extended family, my co-workers, my lovers, (those don't really exist), my strangers and unborn children: Thank you for letting me be me. Your support, and your ignorance (for those selected few) have given me strength and courage to go on.
I love you all, and hope that I allow you the same freedom as you have allowed me to not be just a number.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
A letter-poem I wrote (first draft)
To the man who says I don't understand:
I do not claim to be entitled, and I certainly do not disregard your heartache.
You have been broken.
I am not here to put you back together.
Rather, I am here...
to throw away the broken pieces
and create new ones.
I have been bitter. Rude. Naive.
Insensitive and unkind.
I am sorry.
I was also broken.
You put me back together.
I don't remember when
I gave you that permission?
Sir, you are amazing
and I have been blind.
To what I truly feel.
I love you.
Whatever love means,
I feel that for you.
I must, because no matter how
hard I try
to bury it back deep in my soul
or dispose of it into the world
it returns,
to my heart.
Stronger.
Every time.
Don't let me frighten you,
especially if you don't understand,
because I'm just as perplexed
confused
and frightened as you.
In your eyes, I see your past,
as it navigates your future.
I don't ask for rings.
I don't ask for flowers.
What I simply want for us.
No.
For you, is to be happy
and the truth will be in
your eyes, sir.
I know more than you think.
But less than you know.
It is not my life to steer.
It is not my path to sow.
Do not love me in return
and my silence shall be shown.
To all I've said and done
I bring in peace.
Forget me my love.
For I fear, I have come
too late.
Sincerely,
Confusion
I do not claim to be entitled, and I certainly do not disregard your heartache.
You have been broken.
I am not here to put you back together.
Rather, I am here...
to throw away the broken pieces
and create new ones.
I have been bitter. Rude. Naive.
Insensitive and unkind.
I am sorry.
I was also broken.
You put me back together.
I don't remember when
I gave you that permission?
Sir, you are amazing
and I have been blind.
To what I truly feel.
I love you.
Whatever love means,
I feel that for you.
I must, because no matter how
hard I try
to bury it back deep in my soul
or dispose of it into the world
it returns,
to my heart.
Stronger.
Every time.
Don't let me frighten you,
especially if you don't understand,
because I'm just as perplexed
confused
and frightened as you.
In your eyes, I see your past,
as it navigates your future.
I don't ask for rings.
I don't ask for flowers.
What I simply want for us.
No.
For you, is to be happy
and the truth will be in
your eyes, sir.
I know more than you think.
But less than you know.
It is not my life to steer.
It is not my path to sow.
Do not love me in return
and my silence shall be shown.
To all I've said and done
I bring in peace.
Forget me my love.
For I fear, I have come
too late.
Sincerely,
Confusion
Monday, September 3, 2012
It's my Birthday
...and I'll cry if I want to. Isn't that how the song goes? I think I remember hearing that song for the first time as part of the Casper soundtrack. Oh, good times...
It's true, tomorrow is my birthday and I'm turning the big 21. I've found that turning 21 receives various sorts of responses, and they vary exponentially, and vary drastically from reactions in past years. Two of the most popular responses are: 1.) Are you going to drink your brains out? You're going to have so much fun. 2.) Yikes! 21? Next thing you know, you'll be 25 and then it just goes down hill.
I'm paraphrasing both of those, but you get the idea. Either way I'm not sure how I feel about becoming the big 21. I guess I have no real expectations for it. To be honest, I just want to be able to get into pubs to finally see those secret concerts bands put on throughout the year.
I guess 21 also feels somewhat like a mid-adult life crisis, because I feel as if I have accomplished so much, but yet I've accomplished so little. I feel like such a success, but such a failure. Moreover I feel like I know a lot, but yet I have much more to learn.
For my age, that might be true, perhaps I know more than any sort of young adult should know, for whatever reason, but I recognize I know nothing at all compared to those who have lived life for 30 or 40 years, plus. I know my parents know more than I do, and my grandparents know more than that.
I guess my point is that being 21 makes me feel like I'm stuck at a crossroads, which is really no different than I've felt for the past two birthdays, but this time something has changed. Something is just a little bit different.
This time, I'm not scared. I feel empowered by my uncertainty of what the future holds. I feel excited by the spontaneity that life may bring me. I no longer feel defeated. I feel...remarkable, in the most tragic sense of the word.
I know, one day, far away from now or maybe not so far away from now. I'll look back at this post and think I was completely awkward and utterly pathetic, but I think that's the point. That tomorrow my life doesn't change completely, but that it begins an incredible journey towards something better. A more mature, honest, compelling, hard-working, self-respecting: Nathan. More than that, I hope I dedicate myself to remaining happy, and doing whatever it takes to do so.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
It makes me Smile
As I reminisce and revel in my "past"--I put it in quotations, because it's quite ridiculous to even mention my past as my past, because it's connotation insinuates that I have a "past" worth mentioning when in reality, I don't, really. That's besides the point. I can't help but smile at a story I remember from when I was "younger"--the aforementioned blurb applies here as well.
I was working at our local amusement park with my best friends, who still live up to that title today: Gabrielle and Natasha are their names, and we were so excited to be working, not only would we have our own personal "grown-up" income, but we were working together.We were super excited! We were ticket takers, so all we had to do was stand at the entrance of a ride, and make sure everyone had a stamp on their hands. Why we were called Ticket Takers never dawned on me...till now? Weird.
It was a scorching summer in the dry-dead-heat of 110 in the shade of Utah. Although when I was 15 it didn't seem so hot, but now, thinking back...it was really hot. On a random day of the week I was scheduled to work one of the roller coasters. At this specific attraction you had the pleasure of standing in a box, literally a box. You'd think that because you were covered by some sort of apparatus it would be less hot. Think again. Not only was it hotter than an oven heated to 450 degrees, the heat also perpetuated the smell of cigarette butts, and the smell of pee from who knows where.
I stood at my post in the box and watched as person after person shoved the outside of their hand in my face as I gave them not so attractive looks. Until one day, a group of men. I repeat men. Not boys. Not guys. Men. Approach the glorious box with smirks, each one a different adorable smirk which is credited to their personality I would assume. There was three of them. They went on, through the turnstile. Staring.
As I continued gasping for my breath in the heat of the dry air, and wiped the beads of sweat from my brow. The sun was beating on my back as it began to set, and as I stood facing forward, diligently keeping to my duties. I hear some rustling behind me, but pay no attention to it.
It was at a moment when there were no patrons in my line.
I looked...
on the ground sat a single rose. I grabbed on to it, and smelt it. It was refreshing and romantic. I couldn't help but smile, and I smiled the rest of the night.
Long story-short: eventually the men came back around and explained that they had left the rose, and got my number. It led to nothing, (there are details I'm not at liberty to share online) but I share this story, because it is so vivid in my mind, and it led to me think, why?
It's nothing really substantial or life changing. It wasn't something that forever changed my ideas or beliefs of anything. It was just a rose, some random man left at my feet. A man, I never saw again.
I guess for a 15 year old it was some sort of fantasy that had come true, and I kept that rose until it died. Smelling it, and holding it, and reminding my self of the fairy tale I was now living, and it lasted for at least a week. The bliss of...a land far, far away. Perhaps that is why I remember it. Not because I was in love, or because some man noticed me. Perhaps I remember it because like many fairy tales: it just makes me smile.
Now, at the age of 20 I find myself in a grown up world, where every adult tells me to never believe in those fairy tales. That Sleeping Beauty, Belle, Ariel, Cinderella, and Snow White were all stupid little girls who were created out of the mind of some shut in writer, who wanted to make things up. They are lies, people tell me, but I refuse to agree with them.
I don't believe that fairy tales come true. I am not that naive, but I do believe that I can create my own fairy tale, everyone can. We all can have our moments where every step is enchanting and every moment unreal, but it is in our imperfect lives that we must find those moments of happiness and adolescent storybook endings. I hope one day I find someone who will sweep me off my feet (and I will do the same in return) and we'll live in an uncharted kingdom. With acres and acres of land, and we'll have spontaneous performances of song and dance. We'll give each other roses, and true loves kiss, and essentially, someday:
We'll live Happily Ever After.
"Smile" :)
I don't believe that fairy tales come true. I am not that naive, but I do believe that I can create my own fairy tale, everyone can. We all can have our moments where every step is enchanting and every moment unreal, but it is in our imperfect lives that we must find those moments of happiness and adolescent storybook endings. I hope one day I find someone who will sweep me off my feet (and I will do the same in return) and we'll live in an uncharted kingdom. With acres and acres of land, and we'll have spontaneous performances of song and dance. We'll give each other roses, and true loves kiss, and essentially, someday:
We'll live Happily Ever After.
"Smile" :)
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
The Story I'd Never Tell
My first "Love"
Give of your heart, and taketh of nothing till it is given back to you.
It was 2005 I had finally come into mine own skin (or so I thought), and all because I had experienced love for the first time. I remember when I first met Fernando (his name is changed for privacy purposes), it was in our choir class in 8th grade. He was very popular and all the ladies loved him. I didn't take much liking to him, at first, because he wasn't my type--as everyone called it.
I was dedicated to one thing and that was singing. So, I didn't pay much attention to anyone else other than the choir director: she was crazy. There's really no other sufficient descriptors other than she was crazy, which I found to be a normality among all choir teachers. Perhaps it's a requirement before one can receive their degree. Something like Crazy Tactics 1010, and you progressivly get crazier so you have to take Weird 2010, and Supercalifragiwhatothewhawhawho 3000 until you finally can graduate with Insanity 4052 which is obviously a thesis class in which you actually are insane, in a classroom.
Anyways, Fernando was my first love, and I knew he was my first love because he's the first boy to ever utter those three lovely short-breath phrases. Sigh.
It was a Saturday afternoon, late fall, very close to winter. Probably October. We had exchanged numbers, and he had called me fairly early in the morning, and we chatted all day. It was really quite cute, because I would have to go do something and then call him back. We would talk. Then, he would have to go do something, and then call me back. It went on like this until at least 11 at night. Which when I was in eighth grade was considered rebellious. I'm wild. I know.
Finally I said "Hey, Fernando I've got to get some sleep."
To which he replied, "oh okay. I love you."
I'm not sure what happened at that moment, but I did not catch "I Love You." All I heard was a mumble. So I asked him to repeat himself. To which he got embarrassed, and refused to repeat it. I egged him on to PLEASE repeat what he had said, to which he finally succumbed...
"I Love You." He said.
To which my first reaction was crusty, because I had been talking to him for A DAY? How could one fall in love with someone in a day, but I couldn't resist but to return the sentiment, and I went to sleep with the admonition that he and I were to be married the next day.
This happened Saturday, on Monday Fernando ignored me at every corner in the hallway. He refused to speak to me in class, and I virtually never saw him again. I had no idea what to do with myself. I was confused. I was taken aback, I was pretty much everything, but hurt, because being the 15 year old that I was I still believed in every fiber of my being Fernando loved me, and why? Because he said so...
In March of that same year, I decided enough was enough. He told me he loved me so why was he not constantly at my side? Also, I found out in January of that same year he had been romantically "involved" with my best friend. So, I said enough was enough. I confronted him via text message and I said, "FERNANDO how are you?"
He said, "Fine."
I said, "Do you like me, still?"
He said, "No."
I said, "Did you ever like me?"
He said, "No."
This is the point where my heart shattered to pieces, and I cried, and I died, and I fell apart.
I was as many would call a hawt mess. I remember specifically crawling under my bed, covering up in blankets, and crying, hard.
Looking back at it all. I find it was ridiculous. I mean, "love" at 15? That wasn't love. It wasn't until many years later that I was reflecting on that moment in life that I found that I was never in love, or maybe I was in love, but I was "in love with being in love." I found out soon enough that this is not true love.
I mock myself at the silly things I thought when I was younger and this was one of those things, but although it was something that has become somewhat of a joke in the storybook of my past. It has forever changed the way I view myself, the way I view love, and how I view the world. That may seem a bit expansive, but it's true.
Fernando was the first man who said he loved me, and although he took it back faster than an Olympic track athlete could run the short-distance long jump. He still said it. He was my first, and sometimes I wish he were my last...
Give of your heart, and taketh of nothing till it is given back to you.
It was 2005 I had finally come into mine own skin (or so I thought), and all because I had experienced love for the first time. I remember when I first met Fernando (his name is changed for privacy purposes), it was in our choir class in 8th grade. He was very popular and all the ladies loved him. I didn't take much liking to him, at first, because he wasn't my type--as everyone called it.
I was dedicated to one thing and that was singing. So, I didn't pay much attention to anyone else other than the choir director: she was crazy. There's really no other sufficient descriptors other than she was crazy, which I found to be a normality among all choir teachers. Perhaps it's a requirement before one can receive their degree. Something like Crazy Tactics 1010, and you progressivly get crazier so you have to take Weird 2010, and Supercalifragiwhatothewhawhawho 3000 until you finally can graduate with Insanity 4052 which is obviously a thesis class in which you actually are insane, in a classroom.
Anyways, Fernando was my first love, and I knew he was my first love because he's the first boy to ever utter those three lovely short-breath phrases. Sigh.
It was a Saturday afternoon, late fall, very close to winter. Probably October. We had exchanged numbers, and he had called me fairly early in the morning, and we chatted all day. It was really quite cute, because I would have to go do something and then call him back. We would talk. Then, he would have to go do something, and then call me back. It went on like this until at least 11 at night. Which when I was in eighth grade was considered rebellious. I'm wild. I know.
Finally I said "Hey, Fernando I've got to get some sleep."
To which he replied, "oh okay. I love you."
I'm not sure what happened at that moment, but I did not catch "I Love You." All I heard was a mumble. So I asked him to repeat himself. To which he got embarrassed, and refused to repeat it. I egged him on to PLEASE repeat what he had said, to which he finally succumbed...
"I Love You." He said.
To which my first reaction was crusty, because I had been talking to him for A DAY? How could one fall in love with someone in a day, but I couldn't resist but to return the sentiment, and I went to sleep with the admonition that he and I were to be married the next day.
This happened Saturday, on Monday Fernando ignored me at every corner in the hallway. He refused to speak to me in class, and I virtually never saw him again. I had no idea what to do with myself. I was confused. I was taken aback, I was pretty much everything, but hurt, because being the 15 year old that I was I still believed in every fiber of my being Fernando loved me, and why? Because he said so...
In March of that same year, I decided enough was enough. He told me he loved me so why was he not constantly at my side? Also, I found out in January of that same year he had been romantically "involved" with my best friend. So, I said enough was enough. I confronted him via text message and I said, "FERNANDO how are you?"
He said, "Fine."
I said, "Do you like me, still?"
He said, "No."
I said, "Did you ever like me?"
He said, "No."
This is the point where my heart shattered to pieces, and I cried, and I died, and I fell apart.
I was as many would call a hawt mess. I remember specifically crawling under my bed, covering up in blankets, and crying, hard.
Looking back at it all. I find it was ridiculous. I mean, "love" at 15? That wasn't love. It wasn't until many years later that I was reflecting on that moment in life that I found that I was never in love, or maybe I was in love, but I was "in love with being in love." I found out soon enough that this is not true love.
I mock myself at the silly things I thought when I was younger and this was one of those things, but although it was something that has become somewhat of a joke in the storybook of my past. It has forever changed the way I view myself, the way I view love, and how I view the world. That may seem a bit expansive, but it's true.
Fernando was the first man who said he loved me, and although he took it back faster than an Olympic track athlete could run the short-distance long jump. He still said it. He was my first, and sometimes I wish he were my last...
Monday, July 30, 2012
Secret Guilty Pleasures
As I sit here in my room writing this post I think of our guilty pleasures. I mean, everyone has them, but I don't think we realize they exist in our lives until prompted with the idea that they do exist within us. So, I'm taking it upon myself to write this in the utmost honest importance of telling everyone my secret pleasure, in hope that you'll look at your life and find those secrets which make up your happiness, but first...
Yikes. I must digress to tell you my absolute epiphany for publishing such a revealing secret which may leave me scarred, and ultimately vulnerable. I find that I think far too much. My brain is constantly in overload. I've come to a point in my life where, for the most part, I can control the outrageous frenzy which exists in my cerebral interior. Sometimes such thoughts bring me to a sad place. I'm never really sure why, and I never really know when it happens (because it doesn't happen often), but when this does happen I've found that only one thing makes me feel better...
Dance.
:) It's true. I just pop my ear buds in and pump up the dial on my iPod to an awful decibel and dance (probably more like prance) around my room. In no time a smile appears on my face, and I've found that's because all my thoughts, the ones that roam rambunctiously in my head. They disappear, and for a moment they don't exist. It's me and the music. That's it.
A wise man once told me: "It's amazing what dancing naked in the mirror to 'Be Italian' from the musical Nine, will do for your self-esteem."
It was that wisdom which started my entire venture to begin prancing around my room. Although my self-esteem doesn't receive a boost, and I don't do it naked; the essence of the advice has forever changed my life.
Tonight was one of my dancing nights.
So I say indulge in your greatest guilty pleasures, because life will get you down. Whether it's just for a moment, a minute, an hour, days or weeks, or perhaps you're one of those lucky few who has life beating you like an egg in a cake mixture every single day. Take a moment to steal that extra scoop of fudge swirl ice cream, or run those five miles on the treadmill, or perhaps it's something less tedious like reveling in a great novel or drawing the great horizon.
Whatever it may be: love it, may you genuinely smile while enjoying it, and may it rejuvenate you to continue your dance with life.
Song of Choice: Pretty Girl Rock by Keri Hilson
Yikes. I must digress to tell you my absolute epiphany for publishing such a revealing secret which may leave me scarred, and ultimately vulnerable. I find that I think far too much. My brain is constantly in overload. I've come to a point in my life where, for the most part, I can control the outrageous frenzy which exists in my cerebral interior. Sometimes such thoughts bring me to a sad place. I'm never really sure why, and I never really know when it happens (because it doesn't happen often), but when this does happen I've found that only one thing makes me feel better...
Dance.
:) It's true. I just pop my ear buds in and pump up the dial on my iPod to an awful decibel and dance (probably more like prance) around my room. In no time a smile appears on my face, and I've found that's because all my thoughts, the ones that roam rambunctiously in my head. They disappear, and for a moment they don't exist. It's me and the music. That's it.
A wise man once told me: "It's amazing what dancing naked in the mirror to 'Be Italian' from the musical Nine, will do for your self-esteem."
It was that wisdom which started my entire venture to begin prancing around my room. Although my self-esteem doesn't receive a boost, and I don't do it naked; the essence of the advice has forever changed my life.
Tonight was one of my dancing nights.
So I say indulge in your greatest guilty pleasures, because life will get you down. Whether it's just for a moment, a minute, an hour, days or weeks, or perhaps you're one of those lucky few who has life beating you like an egg in a cake mixture every single day. Take a moment to steal that extra scoop of fudge swirl ice cream, or run those five miles on the treadmill, or perhaps it's something less tedious like reveling in a great novel or drawing the great horizon.
Whatever it may be: love it, may you genuinely smile while enjoying it, and may it rejuvenate you to continue your dance with life.
Song of Choice: Pretty Girl Rock by Keri Hilson
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Through the Crackling Fire Pit
Stubborn feet walk the plank--
hot coals which burn the souls,
of feet and crave the pane--
from windowed glass.
Ouch,
I whisper.
Tears drench my face,
as they cascade--
from the plateau which are
mine eyes,
down to my feet.
Sssss...
the coals reply.
The symphony which plays
songs of farewell.
To this impassioned child
I bore, but now--
give away.
I run away.
Looking,
forward.
Only forward.
It still burns.
hot coals which burn the souls,
of feet and crave the pane--
from windowed glass.
Ouch,
I whisper.
Tears drench my face,
as they cascade--
from the plateau which are
mine eyes,
down to my feet.
Sssss...
the coals reply.
The symphony which plays
songs of farewell.
To this impassioned child
I bore, but now--
give away.
I run away.
Looking,
forward.
Only forward.
It still burns.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Are We Beautiful?
I've been thinking a lot about beauty lately. I'm not really sure where this idea evolved from, but I keep thinking about it. Perhaps, it's the tiny blemish I just developed on my left temple? Or the audacious capacity my nose takes up on my face. I guess, I just started to think: am I beautiful?
Who would want me with this awful scar on my face, or these brown eyes, or these crazy emotions I feel about being beautiful and what that means. I am destined to be alone, I thought. Then, I thought to myself, naturally, that I should compare myself to others. So I did. But rather than seeing other's imperfections as reason to heighten my own self-esteem I found those imperfections to be beautiful.
A mother and daughter who cashed-out at my register with their groceries; two stoic women with pasty complexion, pointy noses and glasses to boot. They looked like twin sisters. They are beautiful. A man who had too much sun as a child (as well as an adult), maybe he was a construction worker, or concrete layer. Whatever it might have been, his skin was burnt and dry. He is beautiful.
I think what I realized is that too many times we stand in the mirror to ask ourselves if we are beautiful and if we live up to the astonishment which are those unreachable beauties, which people (some people) have been cursed with what society see's as "perfect" genes.
I guess, in short what beauty is, it is more about what beauty isn't, and it isn't some competition where we must compare ourselves to one another. It is our fulfillment of taking what we have, and making it work.
Who would want me with this awful scar on my face, or these brown eyes, or these crazy emotions I feel about being beautiful and what that means. I am destined to be alone, I thought. Then, I thought to myself, naturally, that I should compare myself to others. So I did. But rather than seeing other's imperfections as reason to heighten my own self-esteem I found those imperfections to be beautiful.
A mother and daughter who cashed-out at my register with their groceries; two stoic women with pasty complexion, pointy noses and glasses to boot. They looked like twin sisters. They are beautiful. A man who had too much sun as a child (as well as an adult), maybe he was a construction worker, or concrete layer. Whatever it might have been, his skin was burnt and dry. He is beautiful.
I think what I realized is that too many times we stand in the mirror to ask ourselves if we are beautiful and if we live up to the astonishment which are those unreachable beauties, which people (some people) have been cursed with what society see's as "perfect" genes.
I guess, in short what beauty is, it is more about what beauty isn't, and it isn't some competition where we must compare ourselves to one another. It is our fulfillment of taking what we have, and making it work.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Home
So school is over, and the summer has come. It's really always bittersweet when this time of year comes. I tend to forget how much this part of the school year hurts me, or rather, excites me. This year, especially, has been bitter-sweet due to many good-byes, but yet so many Hello's to new opportunities, and ideas, and hobbies. I have much I want to accomplish this year. This summer to be exact. I want to start running. I want watch lots of movies, and hang out with tons of people. I want to work. A lot, actually. Just get me some money, and I missed a lot of work last year I should make up for.
This time, last year, I was flying to London. A year ago, tomorrow, actually. I miss London, deeply, and one day I'll go back. I'm not sure exactly when, but I'm definitely going back. Although I miss it. I am so excited for this summer, and the future that awaits me. The horizon which I have set before me beams bright and sets anew.
Besides that, saying Goodbye this year was a lot harder than last year. Which is kind of unsettling seeing as this year; I said goodbye to strangers, and last year I said goodbye to my parents. The difference? I think the difference is that I know I was going to see my parents' again. I think I take that fact for granted far more than I should. I think that I'm going to see them more often than I see anyone else, both because I want to, and because I'm obligated too, but this year I had to say farewell to a bestie, and many goodbyes to all my house mates in Building 615.
I have come to adore all these people, and saying good-bye was really hard, but it was an ending to such a happy story, and such a great way to begin a new chapter among the novel I call "my life".
I'm happy I'm home with my parents now. The first night in my Queen size bed felt like I was floating on clouds in heaven. It was peaceful. I also missed my room, and dare I say; even my family.Although I'm back home and had to wish all my dearest friends good-bye...friends who have taught me more about life, and a myriad of other excellencies they shall never know that have changed my life forever--it's always great to find my way back to the place where it all begin, and I find it fitting that this is where I begin, again.
This time, last year, I was flying to London. A year ago, tomorrow, actually. I miss London, deeply, and one day I'll go back. I'm not sure exactly when, but I'm definitely going back. Although I miss it. I am so excited for this summer, and the future that awaits me. The horizon which I have set before me beams bright and sets anew.
Besides that, saying Goodbye this year was a lot harder than last year. Which is kind of unsettling seeing as this year; I said goodbye to strangers, and last year I said goodbye to my parents. The difference? I think the difference is that I know I was going to see my parents' again. I think I take that fact for granted far more than I should. I think that I'm going to see them more often than I see anyone else, both because I want to, and because I'm obligated too, but this year I had to say farewell to a bestie, and many goodbyes to all my house mates in Building 615.
I have come to adore all these people, and saying good-bye was really hard, but it was an ending to such a happy story, and such a great way to begin a new chapter among the novel I call "my life".
I'm happy I'm home with my parents now. The first night in my Queen size bed felt like I was floating on clouds in heaven. It was peaceful. I also missed my room, and dare I say; even my family.Although I'm back home and had to wish all my dearest friends good-bye...friends who have taught me more about life, and a myriad of other excellencies they shall never know that have changed my life forever--it's always great to find my way back to the place where it all begin, and I find it fitting that this is where I begin, again.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Day 8
Name Five passions you have?
1. Music
2. Work
3. People
4. Learning
5. Love
Perhaps these are a bit ambiguous, but ambiguous is my middle name.
1. Music
2. Work
3. People
4. Learning
5. Love
Perhaps these are a bit ambiguous, but ambiguous is my middle name.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Day 7
What is your dream job and why?
If I only knew computer, if I only knew.
I have wrestled with so many thoughts as to what I want to be when "grow-up". I don't think I've come to a solid conclusion, but it did bring me to an interesting idea. I was talking with my room mate the other night about what we would do if we just inherited 1,000,000,000,000 dollars, and his response was: "I don't think I could stop working. It would just be so foreign to me. I'll always need to work." To which I responded...
CACKLE.
Yes, I laughed at him, and I think I might have also given him a raised eyebrow, crazy-person look. Then, once I gathered my smart alic remarks. I turned to him and said: "No, trust me, once you've worked yourself to the bone, and have so much money and you don't HAVE to work another day in your life. You won't. Think of the things you could do. You could travel the world all your days, participate in philanthropy works, do things you would have never imagined you'd be doing. No, Kiko, you would not work. Anyone in their right mind, wouldn't."
Perhaps that's not exactly what I said, but you get the gist of it, and it made me think about work, and what work ethic has meant to me, and right now, all I'm dedicated to is finding a job I'll enjoy doing for the rest of my days. Something that will pay my student loans, but something that gives me the gratification of being alive. I want to mark the world, at least, in some way. It doesn't have to be huge.
Just something.
That's what I want my dream job to be.
Just something.
:)
If I only knew computer, if I only knew.
I have wrestled with so many thoughts as to what I want to be when "grow-up". I don't think I've come to a solid conclusion, but it did bring me to an interesting idea. I was talking with my room mate the other night about what we would do if we just inherited 1,000,000,000,000 dollars, and his response was: "I don't think I could stop working. It would just be so foreign to me. I'll always need to work." To which I responded...
CACKLE.
Yes, I laughed at him, and I think I might have also given him a raised eyebrow, crazy-person look. Then, once I gathered my smart alic remarks. I turned to him and said: "No, trust me, once you've worked yourself to the bone, and have so much money and you don't HAVE to work another day in your life. You won't. Think of the things you could do. You could travel the world all your days, participate in philanthropy works, do things you would have never imagined you'd be doing. No, Kiko, you would not work. Anyone in their right mind, wouldn't."
Perhaps that's not exactly what I said, but you get the gist of it, and it made me think about work, and what work ethic has meant to me, and right now, all I'm dedicated to is finding a job I'll enjoy doing for the rest of my days. Something that will pay my student loans, but something that gives me the gratification of being alive. I want to mark the world, at least, in some way. It doesn't have to be huge.
Just something.
That's what I want my dream job to be.
Just something.
:)
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Day 6
What's the hardest thing you've experienced?
Ummm...2006?
Can I choose a whole year? Because it sucked, but it's a good kind of suck-age, at least, now I know it's a good kind. Back then I was total mess, and fell apart.
1. I fell in and out of love with my first "boy-friend"...it's a really complicated story, but "cliff notes" version is: I met this boy, he told me he liked me, I believed him, then he told me he "loved" me, I told him I "loved" him back, then he never spoke to me again. It was awesome. Actually, not so much. I remember one near day after the "incident", I crawled under my bed, and cried, for like an hour...no biggie. Oh gosh. I can't believe I'm writing this.
2. My Dad almost died. Literally, almost died. Actually, I think at one point he had flat-lined and he had to be resuscitated, you know, with those electric-magnetic things that jump start your heart. Again, long story short, he developed a bacterial infection in his lungs which caused one of them to collapse which sent him to the ICU although, that's what we know now, the entire time this was happening doctors had no idea what was happening, while the bacteria kept growing in my Dad's lungs for three weeks. Oh yeah, that was the year we got to spend Thanksgiving in the hospital.
Welp. That's pretty much the tragedy of my life. Although it was the hardest time of my life. I truly believe my life took a turn for the better at that point. I still look back on those dark times, and am so grateful for the life-lessons it has taught me. When I thought I fell in love; that was also the first time I had "come-out" to anyone. I learned a lot about God while my Dad was in the hospital, because I prayed a lot. I also learned a lot about empathy and compassion. The outpour of love was tremendous. I still remember. That year, we weren't suppose to have a Christmas, because we had no money (doctor's bills). But Christmas Eve there was a door bell ring, and in our door step were an abundance of gifts, big and small. Those gifts, among monetary donations that appeared in the mail, and gift cards, and checks, and flowers, and meals that were delivered to us by strangers, by neighbors, and by people who just preferred to stay anonymous...are the reason I believe in the goodness of the world.
I learned a lot more, but there simply isn't enough time, and certainly not enough happy tears I can shed for this one post.
Anyways, that was probably the hardest thing(s) I've ever experienced.
Ummm...2006?
Can I choose a whole year? Because it sucked, but it's a good kind of suck-age, at least, now I know it's a good kind. Back then I was total mess, and fell apart.
1. I fell in and out of love with my first "boy-friend"...it's a really complicated story, but "cliff notes" version is: I met this boy, he told me he liked me, I believed him, then he told me he "loved" me, I told him I "loved" him back, then he never spoke to me again. It was awesome. Actually, not so much. I remember one near day after the "incident", I crawled under my bed, and cried, for like an hour...no biggie. Oh gosh. I can't believe I'm writing this.
2. My Dad almost died. Literally, almost died. Actually, I think at one point he had flat-lined and he had to be resuscitated, you know, with those electric-magnetic things that jump start your heart. Again, long story short, he developed a bacterial infection in his lungs which caused one of them to collapse which sent him to the ICU although, that's what we know now, the entire time this was happening doctors had no idea what was happening, while the bacteria kept growing in my Dad's lungs for three weeks. Oh yeah, that was the year we got to spend Thanksgiving in the hospital.
Welp. That's pretty much the tragedy of my life. Although it was the hardest time of my life. I truly believe my life took a turn for the better at that point. I still look back on those dark times, and am so grateful for the life-lessons it has taught me. When I thought I fell in love; that was also the first time I had "come-out" to anyone. I learned a lot about God while my Dad was in the hospital, because I prayed a lot. I also learned a lot about empathy and compassion. The outpour of love was tremendous. I still remember. That year, we weren't suppose to have a Christmas, because we had no money (doctor's bills). But Christmas Eve there was a door bell ring, and in our door step were an abundance of gifts, big and small. Those gifts, among monetary donations that appeared in the mail, and gift cards, and checks, and flowers, and meals that were delivered to us by strangers, by neighbors, and by people who just preferred to stay anonymous...are the reason I believe in the goodness of the world.
I learned a lot more, but there simply isn't enough time, and certainly not enough happy tears I can shed for this one post.
Anyways, that was probably the hardest thing(s) I've ever experienced.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Day 5
Name 5 things that make you happy right now?
Just five...oh dear.
1. My bestest friends: Natasha, Claire, Gabby, Arri, Boyd, Eric, Matthew, Matthew, Laura, Andy, Emily, people at work, people on the street. People. Lots of People. Mom. Dad. Sister. Brother, and many others.
2. Music. Any and all types. Wait, most types. Celine Dion.
3. The anticipation of going to KELLY CLARKSON!
4. The failure I feel constantly.
"If you're not making mistakes; you're not working at full capacity."
5. The confusion I feel...constantly.
Just five...oh dear.
1. My bestest friends: Natasha, Claire, Gabby, Arri, Boyd, Eric, Matthew, Matthew, Laura, Andy, Emily, people at work, people on the street. People. Lots of People. Mom. Dad. Sister. Brother, and many others.
2. Music. Any and all types. Wait, most types. Celine Dion.
3. The anticipation of going to KELLY CLARKSON!
4. The failure I feel constantly.
"If you're not making mistakes; you're not working at full capacity."
5. The confusion I feel...constantly.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Day 4
List 10 things you would tell your 16-year old self...
1.Don't let teachers push you around. They are people just like you. You both deserve respect.
2.Do things you think you can't do.
3.Don't try to be someone your not.
4.Try not to always eat the lunch meat. Your fortunate to have a car and a job. Eat out. It's probably healthier.
5.Sing more.
5.Practice. Practice. Practice.
6.Nothing is as tragic as your peers will make them. Four years and then it's over. NBD.
7.Go to EVERY single dance.
8.Work harder at getting good grades. They make a difference.
9.Look for opportunities, and take advantage of them. Don't let them pass you by.
10.Walk with purpose.
1.Don't let teachers push you around. They are people just like you. You both deserve respect.
2.Do things you think you can't do.
3.Don't try to be someone your not.
4.Try not to always eat the lunch meat. Your fortunate to have a car and a job. Eat out. It's probably healthier.
5.Sing more.
5.Practice. Practice. Practice.
6.Nothing is as tragic as your peers will make them. Four years and then it's over. NBD.
7.Go to EVERY single dance.
8.Work harder at getting good grades. They make a difference.
9.Look for opportunities, and take advantage of them. Don't let them pass you by.
10.Walk with purpose.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Day 3
Describe your relationship with your parents?
Hmm...My parents and I are very close now, and I'm constantly amazed now, at what they sacrificed when I was child, and I'm constantly amazed at what wonderful human beings they are even in their flaws.
My Mother: I hate calling my mother my "best friend," because I feel first and foremost she is my mother, but I do feel like she is at least, some sort of friend figure. She has taught me so many great lessons in life, and although I would never admit this. There have been many-a-times when my mother has given me advice that I just ignored, and it came back and bit me right in the...buttocks. I hate that she's always right, but I'm sure it took her time to get there, and the more I find that she is right...the more I find myself contemplating a little bit more whether to listen to her. My mother is strong, wise, loving, compassionate, and incredible woman.
My Father: I use to hate my father. I won't lie. I hated him. My mother said that we would fight so often when I was a teenager she was contemplating sending us to counseling. My dad and I are alike in many ways, but oh so different in many others. Now that I've "matured" I look back at how much he's accomplished and many things he's done for me, and I can truly, that I love him. He is one of the greatest men in my life, which I never, EVER thought I could write or say, or express in any way. He has been a provider, and a constant beam of support. Now, we're good. We're real good.
Hmm...My parents and I are very close now, and I'm constantly amazed now, at what they sacrificed when I was child, and I'm constantly amazed at what wonderful human beings they are even in their flaws.
My Mother: I hate calling my mother my "best friend," because I feel first and foremost she is my mother, but I do feel like she is at least, some sort of friend figure. She has taught me so many great lessons in life, and although I would never admit this. There have been many-a-times when my mother has given me advice that I just ignored, and it came back and bit me right in the...buttocks. I hate that she's always right, but I'm sure it took her time to get there, and the more I find that she is right...the more I find myself contemplating a little bit more whether to listen to her. My mother is strong, wise, loving, compassionate, and incredible woman.
My Father: I use to hate my father. I won't lie. I hated him. My mother said that we would fight so often when I was a teenager she was contemplating sending us to counseling. My dad and I are alike in many ways, but oh so different in many others. Now that I've "matured" I look back at how much he's accomplished and many things he's done for me, and I can truly, that I love him. He is one of the greatest men in my life, which I never, EVER thought I could write or say, or express in any way. He has been a provider, and a constant beam of support. Now, we're good. We're real good.
Day 2
Name 3 legitimate fears and explain how they became fears?
Ummm now that the question is brought up...I have no idea. I mean I get scared of spiders and snakes. Are those legitimate?
As cheesy as it may sounds...I've always been afraid of being "alone", in any sense: alone, physically and spiritually, without my parents, without a lover, or love interest, without God, or even without strangers. I was deathly afraid of being Alone. Although, I think what I feared the most was the sadness that people con notate with being alone, but the truth is being alone is never as sad as we think it may be. Being alone can be liberating and strengthening. I've found that I have learned most about myself and about, really everything when I am alone.
It's quite the place of solitude and rebirth. Being alone is not tragic. Now, I embrace being alone, even the idea of never finding someone to be my significant other. I have come to a place of understanding and acceptance. That loneliness is not horrendous. In many ways it's beautiful. No matter how lonely you may be, because the truth is...you're never really alone, ever.
Ummm now that the question is brought up...I have no idea. I mean I get scared of spiders and snakes. Are those legitimate?
As cheesy as it may sounds...I've always been afraid of being "alone", in any sense: alone, physically and spiritually, without my parents, without a lover, or love interest, without God, or even without strangers. I was deathly afraid of being Alone. Although, I think what I feared the most was the sadness that people con notate with being alone, but the truth is being alone is never as sad as we think it may be. Being alone can be liberating and strengthening. I've found that I have learned most about myself and about, really everything when I am alone.
It's quite the place of solitude and rebirth. Being alone is not tragic. Now, I embrace being alone, even the idea of never finding someone to be my significant other. I have come to a place of understanding and acceptance. That loneliness is not horrendous. In many ways it's beautiful. No matter how lonely you may be, because the truth is...you're never really alone, ever.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Day One...It's not what you think.
So, I was perusing through Pinterest. You know, the latest fad, and found this list of thirty questions. So every day this month. I'll answer these questions. Why am I doing it? I have no idea, and part of me is a little frightened at how vulnerable I'm making myself. I'm going to be as honest as I can with each of these questions, as I can.
It'll be a process, because I'm not one to wear my emotions on my sleeve. I hope it also sparks a conversation for people to start looking at this list (and themselves) a little bit more, and realize that no matter how much we put ourselves out on that ledge...if we fall, there will always be someone at the bottom, waiting to catch us, because they know exactly what we're going through.
Cheesy. I know, but roll with it.
Number One: 20 Random Facts.
1. I once stuck Cheerios so far up my nose, my parents had to pick them out with tweezers.
2. When my sister was born; I went back to diapers.
3. I've never dated a Jewish man.
4. Today when I saw a man wearing a yamaka...I imagined what our first date would be like... including our date conversation. (if you want to know how it went, just ask, I'm a little ridiculous):)
5. Instead of illustrating my emotions through actions...I sing. Loud.
6. I know everyone is secretly jealous of me.
7. Sometimes I tell little white lies^^just because I think they're funny. Usually it's lined with a whole lot of sarcasm.
8. I consider myself witty, but I would never admit that (oops).
9. If Plans A, B, C, or D don't work out. E and F are (1) Become a pilot (2) Become a NASCAR driver.
10. I still want to be on Broadway.
11. I don't have secrets...except for one, and the only person who will know it...is my husband.
12. I have personal conversations with myself in the car to; and from work.
13. I read a lot of memoirs.
14. I find drag queens very entertaining.
15. I'm planning on becoming a YouTube sensation. I'm just waiting for the perfect moment.
16. 6 Men.
17. I really don't want to be 20 anymore.
18. When I get really excited about something I don't really talk about it, but when I'm not really excited about something, I talk about it ALL the time.
19. In my head I'm constantly writing a novel about my life.
20. Until I was about 12. I was going to be a mixture of Celine Dion, Kelly Clarkson, and Cinderella in one. That was my life goal. Needless to say, my priorities have changed. Now I just want to be Beyonce.
THE LIST:
1. List 20 random facts about yourself.
2. Describe 3 legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears.
3. Describe your relationship with your parents.
4. List 10 things you would tell your 16 year-old self, if you could.
5. What are the 5 things that make you most happy right now?
6. What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced?
7. What is your dream job, and why?
8. What are 5 passions you have?
9. List 10 people who have influenced you and describe how.
10. Describe your most embarrasing moment.
11. Describe 10 pet peeves you have.
12. Describe a typical day in your current life.
13. Describe 5 weaknesses you have.
14. Describe 5 strengths you have.
15. If you were an animal, what would you be and why?
16. What are your 5 greatest accomplishments?
17. What is the thing you most wish you were great at?
18. What has been the most difficult thing you have had to forgive?
19. If you could live anywhere, where would it be and why?
20. Describe 3 significant memories from your childhood.
21. If you could have one superpower, what would it be and what would you do with it first?
22. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 15 years?
23. List your top 5 hobbies and why you love them.
24. Describe your family dynamic of your childhood vs. your family dynamic now.
25. If you could have dinner with anyone in history, who would it be and what would you eat?
26. What popular notion do you think the world has most wrong?
27. What is your favorite part of your body and why?
28. What is your love language?
29. What do you think people misundertand most about you?
30. List 10 things you would hope to be remembered for.
It'll be a process, because I'm not one to wear my emotions on my sleeve. I hope it also sparks a conversation for people to start looking at this list (and themselves) a little bit more, and realize that no matter how much we put ourselves out on that ledge...if we fall, there will always be someone at the bottom, waiting to catch us, because they know exactly what we're going through.
Cheesy. I know, but roll with it.
Number One: 20 Random Facts.
1. I once stuck Cheerios so far up my nose, my parents had to pick them out with tweezers.
2. When my sister was born; I went back to diapers.
3. I've never dated a Jewish man.
4. Today when I saw a man wearing a yamaka...I imagined what our first date would be like... including our date conversation. (if you want to know how it went, just ask, I'm a little ridiculous):)
5. Instead of illustrating my emotions through actions...I sing. Loud.
6. I know everyone is secretly jealous of me.
7. Sometimes I tell little white lies^^just because I think they're funny. Usually it's lined with a whole lot of sarcasm.
8. I consider myself witty, but I would never admit that (oops).
9. If Plans A, B, C, or D don't work out. E and F are (1) Become a pilot (2) Become a NASCAR driver.
10. I still want to be on Broadway.
11. I don't have secrets...except for one, and the only person who will know it...is my husband.
12. I have personal conversations with myself in the car to; and from work.
13. I read a lot of memoirs.
14. I find drag queens very entertaining.
15. I'm planning on becoming a YouTube sensation. I'm just waiting for the perfect moment.
16. 6 Men.
17. I really don't want to be 20 anymore.
18. When I get really excited about something I don't really talk about it, but when I'm not really excited about something, I talk about it ALL the time.
19. In my head I'm constantly writing a novel about my life.
20. Until I was about 12. I was going to be a mixture of Celine Dion, Kelly Clarkson, and Cinderella in one. That was my life goal. Needless to say, my priorities have changed. Now I just want to be Beyonce.
THE LIST:
1. List 20 random facts about yourself.
2. Describe 3 legitimate fears you have and explain how they became fears.
3. Describe your relationship with your parents.
4. List 10 things you would tell your 16 year-old self, if you could.
5. What are the 5 things that make you most happy right now?
6. What is the hardest thing you have ever experienced?
7. What is your dream job, and why?
8. What are 5 passions you have?
9. List 10 people who have influenced you and describe how.
10. Describe your most embarrasing moment.
11. Describe 10 pet peeves you have.
12. Describe a typical day in your current life.
13. Describe 5 weaknesses you have.
14. Describe 5 strengths you have.
15. If you were an animal, what would you be and why?
16. What are your 5 greatest accomplishments?
17. What is the thing you most wish you were great at?
18. What has been the most difficult thing you have had to forgive?
19. If you could live anywhere, where would it be and why?
20. Describe 3 significant memories from your childhood.
21. If you could have one superpower, what would it be and what would you do with it first?
22. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? 10 years? 15 years?
23. List your top 5 hobbies and why you love them.
24. Describe your family dynamic of your childhood vs. your family dynamic now.
25. If you could have dinner with anyone in history, who would it be and what would you eat?
26. What popular notion do you think the world has most wrong?
27. What is your favorite part of your body and why?
28. What is your love language?
29. What do you think people misundertand most about you?
30. List 10 things you would hope to be remembered for.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Learning to Love where I'm at
So...I was reading O Magazine. This week actually.
One of the main articles was about writing a Six Word Autobiography about yourself.
It's meant to be revealing, and completely captivating all in just six words!
I was working on this over and over again in my head, and came to standstill every time.
I just couldn't come up with six little words (it's much harder than it sounds).
I finally, while getting my hair cut at my local salon came to find MY six word Auto-biography:
Learning to Love where I'm at.
I was a little wary as to what it might co notate, perhaps ideas that I am forcing myself to love where I'm at, or what I'm doing, but I came to accept the idea that I was not forcing myself to love where I'm at, but rather, to learn to create a life I can love where I'm at.
It's hard living life, I think we're all aware of that. There are romances that become heart breaks, lives that become death, people who come and go, jobs which are lost, and every day mercies that just don't seem fair, and it's hard to see the silver-lining sometimes.
But I've found that with the good must come the bad. With the happy must come the sad, and I am so grateful for those oppositions. When I think of them, I know that what is happening is meant to happen. It's beautiful how life works in those mysterious ways.
A friend of mine, his sister, just shared a beautiful story about a very important gentleman who has left her life. Her strength amongst trial is truly admirable, and is my inspiration for this post. But whether it be the loss of someone dear to us, or whether it be a lonely-heart break, by a man--neither is minuscule, both impact our lives in ways that change them, and help us to realize life...life is meant to lived and learned. Life is meant to hurt, only to reap the goodness.
May we move forward every day learning to be better than yesterday.
"To God be the Glory."
http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/The-Cast-of-The-Color-Purple-Sings-the-Title-Song-Video
One of the main articles was about writing a Six Word Autobiography about yourself.
It's meant to be revealing, and completely captivating all in just six words!
I was working on this over and over again in my head, and came to standstill every time.
I just couldn't come up with six little words (it's much harder than it sounds).
I finally, while getting my hair cut at my local salon came to find MY six word Auto-biography:
Learning to Love where I'm at.
I was a little wary as to what it might co notate, perhaps ideas that I am forcing myself to love where I'm at, or what I'm doing, but I came to accept the idea that I was not forcing myself to love where I'm at, but rather, to learn to create a life I can love where I'm at.
It's hard living life, I think we're all aware of that. There are romances that become heart breaks, lives that become death, people who come and go, jobs which are lost, and every day mercies that just don't seem fair, and it's hard to see the silver-lining sometimes.
But I've found that with the good must come the bad. With the happy must come the sad, and I am so grateful for those oppositions. When I think of them, I know that what is happening is meant to happen. It's beautiful how life works in those mysterious ways.
A friend of mine, his sister, just shared a beautiful story about a very important gentleman who has left her life. Her strength amongst trial is truly admirable, and is my inspiration for this post. But whether it be the loss of someone dear to us, or whether it be a lonely-heart break, by a man--neither is minuscule, both impact our lives in ways that change them, and help us to realize life...life is meant to lived and learned. Life is meant to hurt, only to reap the goodness.
May we move forward every day learning to be better than yesterday.
"To God be the Glory."
http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/The-Cast-of-The-Color-Purple-Sings-the-Title-Song-Video
Saturday, January 14, 2012
I'm 18 going on 20
It's amazing how two years can change your entire life. I am constantly amazed at the persona I WAS when I was eighteen. Now, being twenty (although still completely naive) I have learned so much about myself, about life, about school, about men, about dating, and about so many other aspects of life that have influenced me to become better.
It makes me smile the growth I have been able to accomplish in just a mere two years. I am so lucky. I am so happy. It has taken a lot of hard work, a whole bunch of luck, and even more love that has influenced me now.
I can't even imagine what life is going to bring me in the next ten years with as much as life has brought me in the last two.
It's rad.
It's wonderful.
It's on.
It makes me smile the growth I have been able to accomplish in just a mere two years. I am so lucky. I am so happy. It has taken a lot of hard work, a whole bunch of luck, and even more love that has influenced me now.
I can't even imagine what life is going to bring me in the next ten years with as much as life has brought me in the last two.
It's rad.
It's wonderful.
It's on.
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