So, I graduated from college and moved back in with my parents. I know that all the books tell you to do that for as short a time as humanly possible. But my parents are gracious people and I'm good at rolling with the punches, so it works. Still, I'm counting down the months until I pay off my loans and move out.
Wait, did I just say that my parents are gracious people? I must have meant monsters who eat people named Grace. Every three months living here changes into something like living in a dungeon. And I know that it has nothing to do with me. Because I'm angelic.
Seriously, living with other people opens your eyes to how weird the rest of the world is and how selfish you can be.
For example, I think it's so strange that other people don't have seven projects started at the same time. It was Winston Churchill's philosophy that doing something different is as good as resting. And I agree. If I can change from crafting to writing to cooking to cleaning back to crafting to my other craft, it's very productive for me. But people in my family have thrown around the words, "slob" and "pig" and things. They seem to think that if I'm not currently physically working on something, I shouldn't have it out. And they're even less less supportive of my 10 other projects. I guess they don't see the mental work and joy that happens while I leave my sewing out. I see it as decoration; they see it as mess.
It's hard to balance my need to be creative and my family's need for a weird sort of order.
I'm learning to put away projects that are not essential, and my family is learning to give me some space. And it's not fun. But it's probably healthy.
This is the kind of adjustment that I have to make all the time because I'm living with other people. And, like I mentioned, every three months it gets especially hard. I hope that I'm growing because of it. Or that the next few months go really quickly.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Friday, June 8, 2012
Potential, continued...
I have to admit, I may have freaked more than I needed to about bringing the BF home. The whole week went splendidly. We laughed a lot.
I learned a lot about myself, him and how we interact in busy new situations. It made me laugh more than once, at his desire for adventure and new things. I take life as it comes and calculate my options, sometimes with reserve. He, on the other hand, tries to catch everything he can in the small moments of life. ( There's a great thing called patience!) In the Market, I could have used a leash to keep him going to and fro, but he persisted and I followed along. It was I who was along for the ride during this adventure.
He makes me smile a lot. He fit in, albet quiet at times, soaking all of it in and he did great in the hustle and bustle of our week. He met literally everyone and their dog and kept a smile on his face.
Potential, for the time being, neutralized. The worried potential from before turned into wonderful memories and new knowledge of one another. I like this much better.
Adieu,
Anne
I learned a lot about myself, him and how we interact in busy new situations. It made me laugh more than once, at his desire for adventure and new things. I take life as it comes and calculate my options, sometimes with reserve. He, on the other hand, tries to catch everything he can in the small moments of life. ( There's a great thing called patience!) In the Market, I could have used a leash to keep him going to and fro, but he persisted and I followed along. It was I who was along for the ride during this adventure.
He makes me smile a lot. He fit in, albet quiet at times, soaking all of it in and he did great in the hustle and bustle of our week. He met literally everyone and their dog and kept a smile on his face.
Potential, for the time being, neutralized. The worried potential from before turned into wonderful memories and new knowledge of one another. I like this much better.
Adieu,
Anne
Sunday, May 27, 2012
People and Calamity
The people in our lives...
The differences in people amaze me. The passions and lives of the ones around me bring a smile to my face. How unique are the lives different than my own. Sometimes, as I let my introverted side stage my reactions and initial impressions of new people, often I have no idea what they see and perceive of me. AND that is scary.
It's scary to think about how I carry myself and if who I say I am is truly represented. Selfishly, and in my humanity, of course I want people to like me, to laugh with me and to enjoy being around me. I have that moment... Oh goodness, will they still like me, if they find out X about me?
I think its a normal reaction.
As a child I would probe the friends who would come over for sleep overs for information.
Did you have fun, Do you like me, What did you like, Do you like me? I would over think about the things I didn't do right. Often trying to make up for them, apologizing rather than enjoying myself.
In my adulthood my reaction is subdued and sleek in its approach, yet similar to my childhood. I often rely on what I feel and what i want those around me to see. Secretly, still the desire to have people like me remains. But here is a different story.
I have a friend who is moving and today we had a goodbye lunch. As she was telling me about her move and the next stage of her life, she began to tell me how she remember's when we first met in Grad school. We laughed about the classes we took together and talked about the future. Taken back and surprised at what she said next, I learned something new.
"You know, you always had a smile on your face. You always asked me how I was doing and that really meant a lot to me". She proceeded to encourage both my bf and I about what's next for our lives, "God is good".
She is right... I do smile a lot. Often I smile because there are things in my heart just waiting to burst to the surface but I smile instead. This is what she saw. This is what she remembers and takes with her. She never paid attention to the things that I thought would disqualify me from friendship. The things I think from the outset which I believe people will reject me for, she never saw.
Mind Blown. It's the conversations in life over coffee, that change my perspective of myself, of who I want to be, of who I really am and how people love me just because I smile.
The differences in people amaze me. The passions and lives of the ones around me bring a smile to my face. How unique are the lives different than my own. Sometimes, as I let my introverted side stage my reactions and initial impressions of new people, often I have no idea what they see and perceive of me. AND that is scary.
It's scary to think about how I carry myself and if who I say I am is truly represented. Selfishly, and in my humanity, of course I want people to like me, to laugh with me and to enjoy being around me. I have that moment... Oh goodness, will they still like me, if they find out X about me?
I think its a normal reaction.
As a child I would probe the friends who would come over for sleep overs for information.
Did you have fun, Do you like me, What did you like, Do you like me? I would over think about the things I didn't do right. Often trying to make up for them, apologizing rather than enjoying myself.
In my adulthood my reaction is subdued and sleek in its approach, yet similar to my childhood. I often rely on what I feel and what i want those around me to see. Secretly, still the desire to have people like me remains. But here is a different story.
I have a friend who is moving and today we had a goodbye lunch. As she was telling me about her move and the next stage of her life, she began to tell me how she remember's when we first met in Grad school. We laughed about the classes we took together and talked about the future. Taken back and surprised at what she said next, I learned something new.
"You know, you always had a smile on your face. You always asked me how I was doing and that really meant a lot to me". She proceeded to encourage both my bf and I about what's next for our lives, "God is good".
She is right... I do smile a lot. Often I smile because there are things in my heart just waiting to burst to the surface but I smile instead. This is what she saw. This is what she remembers and takes with her. She never paid attention to the things that I thought would disqualify me from friendship. The things I think from the outset which I believe people will reject me for, she never saw.
Mind Blown. It's the conversations in life over coffee, that change my perspective of myself, of who I want to be, of who I really am and how people love me just because I smile.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Potential Calamity
Ever have those moments where you freak about the possibility of things going wrong, horribly terribly wrong? ( and it usually doesn't?)
I am in the midst of one of these potentials. I am taking the BF home for the first time AND we're flying across the country to get there. It's not like he's lived at home for years, no... He's from the south and I hail from the good ol' NW. Let the craziness begin!
I freaked out a bit, OKAY... a lot... when we made the trek to the south for Easter to meet his folks. I wasn't surprized that they were awesome, amazing, loving, welcoming and fun but I was still freaked out. It's a big deal. The first morning there, I sat down at the kitchen table with his folks and over coffee we got to know one another. Piece of Cake (Kentucky Bourbon Cake to be exact)... no problems and not the slightest potential for things to go a wry... (ha).
Having grown up in the NW, well... we do things different. Sure, I'm sweet... but I also have the tendency to be sharp, quick and severely independent. AND so does my family. They are loud and opinionated not sweet (some of the time) and southern like his fam. So I am worried, he will be floored when we get there.
For weeks I have been caught in this comparing our families funk... AND ultimately being somewhat ashamed of my unique, loud family. He (the BF) doesn't seem to be too worried, which is good. He actually has encouraged me NOT to compare and not to worry about all of this. BUT I am. Don't get me wrong... I love them a lot. They can just be a lot to handle sometimes.
After talking to my dad about how awesome people are from the south, he scolded me.
"listen here, sister. We are who we are. I'm sorry we didn't raise you in the south. I'm sorry we're loud. God forbid, the house is dirty. And who cares if we are. You are part of this loud, opinionated family."
Ouch... Dad wisdom, for the win.
I can't control opinions, or the volume of my sister's voice, or the words that come out of peoples mouths...
what matters are people's hearts. My family has a BIG heart and we laugh a lot. At each other and the things that happen around us. That makes all that other stuff not so important. And my Dad's word's per usual, cause me to reevaluate my heart.
Sure there's definite potential for things to be super crazy, super busy and sometimes just plain messed up. There is more potential for adventure, fun, laughter, getting to know each other better than there is for a nuclear disaster happening (fingers crossed).
Definite update soon.
Adieu,
Anne
I am in the midst of one of these potentials. I am taking the BF home for the first time AND we're flying across the country to get there. It's not like he's lived at home for years, no... He's from the south and I hail from the good ol' NW. Let the craziness begin!
I freaked out a bit, OKAY... a lot... when we made the trek to the south for Easter to meet his folks. I wasn't surprized that they were awesome, amazing, loving, welcoming and fun but I was still freaked out. It's a big deal. The first morning there, I sat down at the kitchen table with his folks and over coffee we got to know one another. Piece of Cake (Kentucky Bourbon Cake to be exact)... no problems and not the slightest potential for things to go a wry... (ha).
Having grown up in the NW, well... we do things different. Sure, I'm sweet... but I also have the tendency to be sharp, quick and severely independent. AND so does my family. They are loud and opinionated not sweet (some of the time) and southern like his fam. So I am worried, he will be floored when we get there.
For weeks I have been caught in this comparing our families funk... AND ultimately being somewhat ashamed of my unique, loud family. He (the BF) doesn't seem to be too worried, which is good. He actually has encouraged me NOT to compare and not to worry about all of this. BUT I am. Don't get me wrong... I love them a lot. They can just be a lot to handle sometimes.
After talking to my dad about how awesome people are from the south, he scolded me.
"listen here, sister. We are who we are. I'm sorry we didn't raise you in the south. I'm sorry we're loud. God forbid, the house is dirty. And who cares if we are. You are part of this loud, opinionated family."
Ouch... Dad wisdom, for the win.
I can't control opinions, or the volume of my sister's voice, or the words that come out of peoples mouths...
what matters are people's hearts. My family has a BIG heart and we laugh a lot. At each other and the things that happen around us. That makes all that other stuff not so important. And my Dad's word's per usual, cause me to reevaluate my heart.
Sure there's definite potential for things to be super crazy, super busy and sometimes just plain messed up. There is more potential for adventure, fun, laughter, getting to know each other better than there is for a nuclear disaster happening (fingers crossed).
Definite update soon.
Adieu,
Anne
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Calamity: Riding a bike
I have not been on a bike since I was about 13.
Most of the time, I tend to exaggerate stories, sometimes to make myself feel better and other times to make other people also feel better for me. I fell off my bike when I was 13. I was on my way back from the library with a friend and I caught a patch of gravel and skid a few feet. Scratches and bruises abounded as I picked myself up feeling ashamed I fell off the bike in the first place and second... my friend thought it was HILARIOUS.
I'm sure she didn't mean to add further to the apparent physical bruises, but it did. Since then I would avoid riding my bike, talking about biking and also bringing it up when anyone asked why I had such a distaste for bikes. At this point ,since I had an audience, I began to elaborate.
"So, I was speeding on my bike trying to get away from Ninjas and caught a patch of gravel and then ate a ton of dirt. After I fell, said friend relentlessly mocked me"- Well it's mostly true... mostly.
Yesterday, I got invited to ride bike on the boardwalk with some friends. Okay, I can do this....
Little did I know that there were a few events at the ocean front... and we were going to bike through a mass of people.... awesome. BUT I did it... and as they say, it's as easy as riding a bike.
After 13 years of not riding a bike and some perspective, I'm still not over exaggerating when I am hurt. Who doesn't like a good story with Ninjas?
I am however, learning to let go of misunderstandings, of things that happened in my childhood that I never understood, things that hurt... I'm letting go and allowing my bruises to heal even if I don't understand why. I couldn't control the gravel being on the road that day, nor the reaction of my friend. There is so much outside of my control, so I am sure there will be more bruises along the way.
I pleaded to have a helmet yesterday (No luck) but I was fine. Other than the heart palpitations and sweating I was golden on that bike.
So, I'm getting back on the bike, and hopefully riding off into the sunset.
Adieu,
Anne
Most of the time, I tend to exaggerate stories, sometimes to make myself feel better and other times to make other people also feel better for me. I fell off my bike when I was 13. I was on my way back from the library with a friend and I caught a patch of gravel and skid a few feet. Scratches and bruises abounded as I picked myself up feeling ashamed I fell off the bike in the first place and second... my friend thought it was HILARIOUS.
I'm sure she didn't mean to add further to the apparent physical bruises, but it did. Since then I would avoid riding my bike, talking about biking and also bringing it up when anyone asked why I had such a distaste for bikes. At this point ,since I had an audience, I began to elaborate.
"So, I was speeding on my bike trying to get away from Ninjas and caught a patch of gravel and then ate a ton of dirt. After I fell, said friend relentlessly mocked me"- Well it's mostly true... mostly.
Yesterday, I got invited to ride bike on the boardwalk with some friends. Okay, I can do this....
Little did I know that there were a few events at the ocean front... and we were going to bike through a mass of people.... awesome. BUT I did it... and as they say, it's as easy as riding a bike.
After 13 years of not riding a bike and some perspective, I'm still not over exaggerating when I am hurt. Who doesn't like a good story with Ninjas?
I am however, learning to let go of misunderstandings, of things that happened in my childhood that I never understood, things that hurt... I'm letting go and allowing my bruises to heal even if I don't understand why. I couldn't control the gravel being on the road that day, nor the reaction of my friend. There is so much outside of my control, so I am sure there will be more bruises along the way.
I pleaded to have a helmet yesterday (No luck) but I was fine. Other than the heart palpitations and sweating I was golden on that bike.
So, I'm getting back on the bike, and hopefully riding off into the sunset.
Adieu,
Anne
More on Defining Calamity
We thought of the word "Calamity" while trying to put all our names together. "Col-An-Kaitie" It probably wasn't a good idea since we're not actually celebrities, but I like what came out of it. I like the word "calamity."
First it makes me think of Calamity Jane. Now there's a woman who defies some stereotypes. I don't know a lot about her, but she stands out as someone who is going to do her own thing. And I think that each of us has done unique and beautiful things with our lives.
The word "calamity" sounds loud. And we are loud with our voices, our values, and our sarcasm. I look to these friends for honesty. Sometimes we cause calamities for other people. And that's okay. I imagine the three of us as troublemaking heroes. Doing our own thing. Stirring the pot. Saving the world.
Also, calamity sounds hard, and life is hard. All of us have had problems, big and little, that feel like calamities. But no matter how big the disasters, we've lived through them. We've come through strong.
And we've come through together. I've depended on these friends during the best of times and the worst of times. We haven't always been perfect friends, but we've been friends. And we've been ones who helped each other through. That's the best kind of calamity.
Defender of Truth and Justice,
Colleen
First it makes me think of Calamity Jane. Now there's a woman who defies some stereotypes. I don't know a lot about her, but she stands out as someone who is going to do her own thing. And I think that each of us has done unique and beautiful things with our lives.
The word "calamity" sounds loud. And we are loud with our voices, our values, and our sarcasm. I look to these friends for honesty. Sometimes we cause calamities for other people. And that's okay. I imagine the three of us as troublemaking heroes. Doing our own thing. Stirring the pot. Saving the world.
Also, calamity sounds hard, and life is hard. All of us have had problems, big and little, that feel like calamities. But no matter how big the disasters, we've lived through them. We've come through strong.
And we've come through together. I've depended on these friends during the best of times and the worst of times. We haven't always been perfect friends, but we've been friends. And we've been ones who helped each other through. That's the best kind of calamity.
Defender of Truth and Justice,
Colleen
Calamity: Self-Doubt
Once in a while I admit something horrible to people. I make it seem casual, but it is not casual to me. My secret is this: I don't feel very prepared for my field of work. I wonder if I am really suited for my field.
I feel really bad.
I'm not ready to give up, but my concerns are real. I'm not very good at my work yet. That's not something that I imagined. My internship was hard. Dread crushed my chest most of the time that I did it. If the economy were better, I would probably know by now. As things stand, I'm caught in the meantime.
When I confess this to friends, the answers that I get are not usually helpful. I don't think there's a perfect answer. I just have to face it. But there are some things that are more or less helpful.
Not Helpful
I bet you are great. I wish I could watch you do your job.
(You weren't listening. I'm being honest, not self depreciating.)
2. You should just...
(This isn't a "just" thing. It's a big, hard decision.)
Helpful
1. Work hard at it.
2. Failure brings growth.
3. You'll be okay no matter what.
4. Stories about others who have faced what I'm facing.
5. Advice about how to improve.
Do you see the difference? Do me a favor and listen to someone today, instead of dismissing their concerns. It's a big deal to them.
I feel really bad.
I'm not ready to give up, but my concerns are real. I'm not very good at my work yet. That's not something that I imagined. My internship was hard. Dread crushed my chest most of the time that I did it. If the economy were better, I would probably know by now. As things stand, I'm caught in the meantime.
When I confess this to friends, the answers that I get are not usually helpful. I don't think there's a perfect answer. I just have to face it. But there are some things that are more or less helpful.
Not Helpful
I bet you are great. I wish I could watch you do your job.
(You weren't listening. I'm being honest, not self depreciating.)
2. You should just...
(This isn't a "just" thing. It's a big, hard decision.)
Helpful
1. Work hard at it.
2. Failure brings growth.
3. You'll be okay no matter what.
4. Stories about others who have faced what I'm facing.
5. Advice about how to improve.
Do you see the difference? Do me a favor and listen to someone today, instead of dismissing their concerns. It's a big deal to them.
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